see it. Time and again I've tried to explain why I went into the
service, and why I stay in it; but I've given up that sort of thing
now, because my friends only laugh and say, 'Well, you _have_ got the
fever, Van, but you can't give it to us.'" Here his horse stumbled
slightly, but he easily lifted him, and then asked, "Say, old man,
who's this Captain Penryhn?" and he waved his hand towards an officer
in foreign uniform who was riding next our surgeon.
"Why, you met him," said I, "just before you were sent over to join
'the enemy.'"
"That's true enough; but I barely caught his name, and beyond the
fact that he's in British uniform, and that Penryhn is his name and
'captain' his title, I'm still uninformed."
"Well, I can't help you out to any great extent," I rejoined, just as
the rattle of the drums gave place to a crash of brazen melody from
the band, "for all I know is that he's one of Stearns' acquisitions,
is over here on leave, holds his commission in 'Her Majesty's
Sixty-fifth,' and seems to be a decent, soldierly sort of fellow. You
must remember that I've been more or less on the jump to-day, and
haven't had time to cultivate acquaintances."
"We'll get a chance for cultivation later, no doubt," observed Van
Sickles as we came in sight of the long train of cars, side-tracked
and waiting to take us aboard and carry us back to the city. "He
probably will dine with us to-night, and then we can"--
"Battalion--_halt!_" rang out the colonel's voice, and we reined up,
as the seven hundred rifles behind us were brought down, with a rattle
and crash, to the carry. "Order--_arms!_ In place--_rest!_" followed;
and we dismounted, and gave over our horses to the men waiting to lead
them to their car at the head of the train.
An hours ride brought us back to the city, a short march through
the lamp-lighted streets found us at the great armory, towering up
in the dusky twilight, and then, one by one, the companies were
dismissed, and seven hundred veterans were set free to resume the
pursuits of peace--which I trust they at once did. We of headquarters
dined together at the hotel which lies just around the corner, and
afterwards, by twos and threes, sauntered up to The Battery, to smoke
our after-dinner cigars and fight over again the day's battle.
When Van and I entered the cosey old room the fun had been started.
"That's all right about your flank attack," the lieutenant-colonel was
saying, in answer to the senior major's assertion that a brilliant
move by his detachment had won the day for the attacking side; "oh,
yes--_that's_ all right; but if it had been the 'real thing,' I'd have
cut you up into sausage-meat with the sharpshooters I'd tucked into
that clump of pines."
"Well, why didn't you--as it was?" inquired the major, calmly cutting
the end from his cigar.
"Because the boys had run short of ammunition," replied the
lieutenant-colonel.
"Ah! they _had_, had they?" remarked the major sarcastically; "and
if it had been the real old stuff I'd have been wiped out, would I?
Humph! A bush full of sharpshooters _without ammunition_ doesn't seem
to strike me as being much of an obstacle. It's no use, Billy--there's
where I caught you napping; empty boxes are empty boxes, whether
they've been emptied of blank or ball."
"I was outnumbered, anyway," said the lieutenant-colonel, on the
defensive for the second time that day. "How in thunder could I take
four companies, and play 'em off against eight?"
"I don't know, I'm sure," pleasantly replied the major. "You thought
you could, though, when we planned this thing out. Miscalculated just
a hair, eh?"
"Hello, here's Stearns," put in Van, with a view to diverting the
conversation into safer courses before the traditional tranquillity of
The Battery should become ruffled. "How are you, Tom? Good evening,
Captain Penryhn."
Stearns and his companion came up to the fireplace, in which a
cheerful blaze had been kindled to take the chill from the air of the
cool October evening, and for a moment the discussion was dropped;
but it wasn't long before some chance word renewed the argument, and
so, on Van's suggestion, we made a change of base to one of the small
tables in the corner of the room, and left the strategists to settle
their differences without our aid.
Now, it happened that Bones had been called away immediately after
dinner, and so Van appropriated the absent surgeon's pet story,
and entertained our visitor by telling how the doctor and "Acme"
had brought the Cavalry Cup to our headquarters. It happened also
that the recital of this yarn of ours reminded the Englishman of an
experience of his own--and that was what I had started to tell you
when I had to branch off into so many explanations.
"Rather brutal bit of luck, I should call it," observed the English
captain, referring to Bones' racing exploit. "Must have been very
melancholy for the troopers. Well, luck's a factor that can't be
disregarded. I had a rare slice of luck myself, once on a time, and in
the way of riding, too. Fancy I'll tell you of it. Do you mind?"
No, we didn't mind; and so Captain Penryhn proceeded to tax our
credulity in this wise:
"I ran upon this particular piece of good fortune in--let me think--in
'84," said he, bringing out his words slowly and with an accent
which fell oddly upon our ears, and yet certainly detracted nothing
from the interest of the story. "It was in Egypt, where we'd had to
interfere somewhat in the course of matters. Daresay you remember what
led up to all the bother?" Van nodded assent, and so I could do no
less, though I'm morally certain that our combined knowledge of the
Egyptian question could have been put into four lines of type without
overcrowding. "Then I'll jump _in medias res_ at once," Penryhn went
on, "merely stopping to explain how I happened to be in Egypt at that
time.
"I then was in the Sixty-fifth--the 'York and Lancaster' regiment--the
same corps in which I now hold my captaincy. I was on leave, however,
and had obtained permission to attach myself to the staff of Baker
Pacha, who was fitting out his expedition for the relief of Tokar. I'd
gone into this venture simply for the fun of the thing, but before I
got quit of it I was forced to the conclusion that I possibly had been
led into it under a mistaken set of impressions; for the fun was much
less in quantity and of a far poorer quality than I had anticipated."
Penryhn picked up the mug which Sam had set upon the table, took a
long pull at its amber contents, and then remarked, "Do you know, this
American beer of yours is very good? In fact, I find myself coming to
fancy it strongly, though I must admit that at first I didn't. It's
much the same with Americans themselves: we Englishmen really don't
care much about them until we learn to know them well, but when we
_do_ know them we become very fond of them. I found that to be so
in the case of Carroll--Major Carroll, of your Eighteenth Regular
Cavalry, who was with me on the campaign of which I am telling."
"Of our Eighteenth Cavalry?" said I, inquiringly. "Why, how came he in
Egypt?"
"He was looking for sport, as I was," Captain Penryhn replied. "He was
military _attaché_ at Berlin, and had got leave for a few months. We
both were volunteer aides-de-camp to Baker."
Here, noticing that the Englishman had got well towards the last inch
of his cigar, I silently proffered my freshly filled case. He half
drew out a weed, but pushed it back to its place, saying "I'm of a
mind to try one of your pipes, if I may?"
"You certainly shall," said I. "Hi! Sam, bring the cobs." Penryhn took
a pipe, filled and lighted it, and then remarked, "Oh, I say! I rather
wondered why so many of you were smoking these things, but _now_ I
don't. Sweet, isn't it, eh?"
"Yes, we call a cobful of plug a comforting sort of smoke," said Van,
"and it takes the entire crop of a fifty-acre cornfield to keep The
Battery supplied with smoking utensils."
"Not really?" said our astonished guest.
"Possibly not quite," I put in; and then, in order to check Van in
any further flights of imagination, I asked, "Didn't you have some
difficulty, captain, in getting your expedition into shape? As I
recall it, at this late day, Baker Pacha rather came to grief in his
attempt at relieving Tokar."
"Difficulty?" said Penryhn. "Yes, we had an abundance of it. Baker had
drawn together a mob of something over five thousand men. Did I say
_men_? Sheep would be better--and black sheep, too; for the rabble we
had with us, under the nickname of 'soldiers,' was made up for the
most part of cowardly Egyptian _fellahen_, who had been driven into
the ranks either through fear of the bastinado or else by the actual
application of it. Great Wolseley! Never such a mob had masqueraded as
an army since war was invented."
"How were you officered?" asked Stearns, tossing a match to Van, whose
pipe had managed to go out.
"Mainly by Egyptians," replied the Englishman, "though there were
enough Europeans to pound the mass into at least a semblance of order
and discipline. But it's utterly impossible to put brains into a solid
Egyptian skull, nor can you put any heart into one of those miserable,
half-human _fellahen_: and that was unfortunate, you know, because it
takes a tidy bit of heart to go out into the desert against the wild
tribesmen; while as for brains--well, enough brains for aiming and
firing a rifle are almost indispensable. 'Pon my soul, we actually
lost scores of men by the random firing of our own troops. What d'ye
think of _that_?"
"I think you ought to have had Van Sickles, here, to do a little
missionary work among your marksmen," said I, laughing. "He's our
I.R.P., you know, and since he came into commission he has been
eminently successful in keeping our boys from killing each other."
"Beg pardon," said Penryhn, doubtfully, "your I.R.P.?"
"Inspector of rifle practice," explained Van, adding, "Shouldn't think
you could have afforded to waste your darkies in that fashion."
"My dear fellow," said our visitor, in a tone of the deepest disgust,
"it isn't possible to waste an Egyptian soldier. The only waste I can
think of is that of the powder and lead it takes to blow him to--to
oblivion."
"That was good material to recruit from," remarked Stearns. "Didn't
you feel a little shaky about going out with it?"
"I've not the slightest hesitation in admitting that I did," replied
the English captain; "and just before we started on our final advance,
I bet a dinner with Major Carroll that if we got into a fight, our
black regiments wouldn't face the music for an hour. It wasn't a bad
bet, for I won by a good, wide margin.
"Well, on the fourth of February, in '84, we marched out our 'army'
from Trinkitat, waded across the shallow lagoon to the mainland, and
struck out over the sands for Tokar--twenty miles away. You think
that you have done rapid work to-day in fighting a sham battle inside
half-a-dozen hours, but _we_ made a record that, in one way, is
incomparably better than yours; for we marched four miles, fought just
fifteen minutes by my bracelet watch, and the campaign _ended_ right
there! Can you equal that, eh?"
"Blest if it wasn't hustling!" said Stearns. "You had pretty nearly a
soft thing in that bet of yours, didn't you?"
"It wasn't half a bad speculation," replied Penryhn, as Sam replaced
our empties by four newly filled pewters. "Bah! a good part of
our fellows couldn't find spirit enough even to run, and stood
stock-still, paralyzed with fright, until they were cut down in their
tracks. The rest of 'em--and the braver ones _they_ were--set off on
a jog-trot for Trinkitat, going just fast enough to afford gentle
exercise to the cheerful savages, who trotted along after them and
carved them up at their leisure. Ah, perhaps things weren't in a devil
of a box!"
"I judge that you wasted precious little time in trying to rally your
men," observed Stearns.
"On that point your judgment is very fair indeed," returned the
Englishman. "Rallies aren't manufactured out of that kind of rubbish.
I much sooner should have thought of attempting to catch a hurricane
in a scoop-net. Perhaps if I'd been on hand at the first break I
might have had a try or two at it, but it so happened that I'd been
sent with a handful of native cavalry to scatter a bunch of horsemen
threatening our flank. When I left the column on this errand, Baker
was preparing to 'form square,' but the Mahdi's men came dancing in
before he had time for the manoeuvre, and when we came galloping
back from our dash the fight was _over_; and, as I've said, fifteen
minutes had been time, and ample, for the winding up of that campaign.
"It was a very rum go, and I reflected that, under all the
circumstances, I might as well devote my time and attention to getting
myself, with unpunctured skin, back to Trinkitat. However, I thought
I'd edge in a bit towards the flying rabble, on the chance of falling
in with Carroll; and so I spurred into the outskirts of the mob of
fright-crazed blacks. As luck would have it, I ran upon my man almost
immediately, and to my dying day I never shall forget how he was
busying himself.
"You may think it absurd, but when I rode up to your countryman I
found him holding by the collar an Egyptian major, whom he was
spanking--yes, actually _spanking_!--with the flat of his sword.
Affairs were at the last ditch of desperation, and every moment's
delay brought death by so much the closer; and yet, for the life of
me, I couldn't help laughing at the sight. The poor major was bawling
and sobbing with pain and fright, while Carroll was laying it on with
jolly goodwill, accompanying each whack with a burst of transatlantic
profanity which, under any ordinary circumstances, would have made me
shiver.
"But I hadn't any time to waste in watching performances of this sort,
and so I rode up closer, yelling, 'Carroll! _Carroll_, old man, are
you mad? You've not an instant to spare! The black devils are close
upon us! Where's your horse?' Carroll gave two more resounding whacks
to his captive, shook him until his teeth rattled, and then set him
free, with a parting kick to speed him on his way to safety. Then he
looked up at me with, 'Hello, Pen! My horse? That mud-colored major--I
hope they'll lift his woolly scalp!--he _shot_ my horse! Pulled his
revolver, shut both eyes, blazed away, and hit poor old _Selim_. I
swear, Pen, he nearly made me lose my temper!'"
"Were your native officers all as efficient as this one?" I inquired,
after we had laughed a little over this piece of marksmanship.
"Why, compared with the others, he was a hero," said Penryhn, in all
earnestness, "for he actually fired a shot. Most of 'em turned and ran
without even stopping to pull trigger.
"But though all this now may seem funny enough in the telling, the
humor of the situation wasn't quite so apparent _then_, for the few
seconds that this little occurrence had consumed had brought danger
very close to us. The half-naked Arabs had begun to carve their way
right into the heart of our stampeding crowd, and from my seat in the
saddle I could see them getting altogether too neighborly to suit my
ideas of comfort. 'Catch hold of my stirrup,' I said to Carroll, 'and
come along out of this.' He sprang towards me, but before he reached
my side a great wiry savage came tearing through the mob, and with one
sweep of his long sword hamstrung my horse. Probably he meant to have
taken a shy next at me, but he lost the chance, for Carroll plumped
a bullet into his neck, and he went tumbling down all of a heap. All
that, though, was cold comfort; for there we were, _on foot_, and with
any odds you please against our getting out of the scrape alive.
"'The game's up, old fellow,' said I, clearing myself from my
struggling horse. 'Come up here to me, and so long as our ammunition
lasts we'll fight it out, back to back.' Our chances seemed so
desperate, you see, that I didn't give even a thought to escape.
'The hell we will!' responded Carroll, whose language somehow seemed
unnecessarily lurid, 'I guess _not_! Pick up your heels, Pen, and
make a scramble for it. We can fight just as well running as we can
standing still.'
"At the word he started off, and I followed him, for though death
seemed inevitable I didn't have quite the courage to stay and face
it alone. 'It's no sort of use,' I panted, as we ran along side by
side; 'we can't foot it for four miles over this sand--in our boots,
too--and get clear of those naked desert-devils.'
"'Well, who's going to?' was the answer I got. Carroll had looked
over his shoulder, and catching sight of a camel which, urged on by
a Soudanese, was lumbering down upon us, he halted and faced about.
'Hi! you black son-of-the-Nile,' he shouted, 'hold up! You _won't_?'
he went on, bringing up his revolver, and roaring out his command in
Arabic. 'Take that, then!' and he fired twice. The first shot was a
clean miss, but at the second the poor chap rolled over and dropped
headlong upon the sand, while Carroll jumped to catch the riderless
camel. 'Hold him by the nose!' I yelled, 'that's the only way you can
manage him!' '_I've_ got him,' he sang out in reply, as he caught the
dangling cord. 'Whoa! you hump-backed beast of misery! Hi! Steady, you
four-legged, graceful nightmare! How in blazes, Pen, can we make him
kneel?'"
"Well, how _did_ you?" inquired Van, removing his pipe from between
his teeth in order to ask the question.
"We simply didn't," said the Englishman, blowing forth a mighty volume
of fragrant smoke, and following this up with a succession of short
puffs, "because neither of us knew the trick. 'He looks higher than
a house,' said I, as I stood helplessly beside the ungainly animal,
'but we've got to scale him somehow.' 'Here, hold his head,' said
Carroll, 'and I'll make a bluff at mounting him,' and then, after we
had exchanged places, he sprang up, caught at some part or other of
the camel's trappings, and managed to haul himself up. 'Pass up the
lines, Pen, and look lively,' he called out. 'Old Humpty's getting
uneasy--and so am I. Give me your hand, and climb as if the Mahdi
himself were after you!' I tossed him the rein, and started to follow
him up, but the minute I released the camel's head the terrified beast
lunged forward, knocking me over like a ninepin, and when I got to my
feet again he was fifty yards away--and going like a race-horse.
"'Clean bowled!' I muttered, as I realized what had happened. 'He
can't manage him, so my last chance is played,' and with a farewell
glance at Carroll's receding figure I faced towards the desert--the
direction from which I knew my death was on its way to me--drew my
revolver, filled an empty chamber in it, cocked it, and waited for the
end.
"All around me the rush of terror-stricken blacks continued, while in
front, and not far away, I could catch the flash and gleam of steel
when some Arab butcher hove his sword up into the air, to bring it
whistling down upon one of our defenceless darkies. Frightened? Yes, I
was in a blue funk, but it was the sort of fear that has a good share
of ugliness in it, and I shut my teeth down and watched out for some
one to kill.
"In a fix like that a little time goes a long way, and it seemed as
though I had been standing there for hours--though probably it was
a matter of but minutes--when a long, misshapen shadow darkened the
sand beside me, and I heard a voice shouting, 'Quick, Pen, for your
life! Your hand, old chap--_your hand_! I can't control this fellow
much longer!' It was Carroll--the blessed, profane old angel!--who had
worked some Yankee miracle with that camel, and had come back to pick
me out of the wreck.
"Without a word, for seconds were precious then, I thrust my
revolver into my belt--not the most careful thing I could have done,
considering that it was full-cocked--and by a desperate bit of
scrambling got up behind my rescuer. Off started the camel, stretched
out at top-speed, swaying from side to side, and plunging and rising
like a troop-ship in the Bay of Biscay, while we two fugitives clung
to whatever we could lay hands upon. But it was comforting to note the
rate at which he took himself over the sand, and I actually began to
pluck up a trifle."
"Then you didn't complain of your accommodations," remarked Stearns,
suggestively.
"I? No, I wouldn't have minded being tossed in a blanket if each toss
had sent me away from Osman Digna's sweating savages.
"Well, we hung on like monkeys, and after a time became used to the
jolting. Finally Carroll turned his head and said, 'You all right,
Pen?'
"'Yes; and you?' said I.
"'Happy as a hoo-poo,' said he; 'but I've got all I can do to steer.
You'll have to do the shooting, old man; and when your gun goes dry
you'll find two shots left in mine. Help yourself to it, if you need
it.'
"Now, I'm quite certain that I couldn't have hit a bungalow, under the
circumstances, but I piped up cheerfully with, 'All right; you keep
your eye out for Trinkitat, and I'll 'tend to matters at this end.'
"Luckily I didn't have to experiment at holding on with one hand and
shooting with the other, for our long-legged mount held his gait
nobly, and took us into Trinkitat, sound and safe, and at such a rate
of going that we weren't much behind Baker and those of his staff who
had escaped with him."
"Hm! that was a near call, Captain Penryhn," observed Van Sickles.
"I certainly thought so at the time," said the Englishman, shifting
his position in his chair, "and I've seen no cause since to change my
opinion. Carroll affected to make light of the whole affair, though,
and declared that we could have got away on foot; and to prove it, he
brought up the case of his Egyptian major, who actually managed to
escape."
"No! Really?" asked Stearns. "I should hope that he and Carroll didn't
meet afterwards."
"But they did," said Penryhn, with an expansive grin. "Oh, yes,
they met--and it was a funny meeting, too. Carroll walked right up
to his man, grabbed him by the hand, and congratulated him on his
escape. And then he apologized for his conduct, and said that he
felt compelled to give satisfaction for it; wherefore he would meet
the aggrieved Egyptian whenever and wherever he might choose, and
would fight him in whatever way he might be pleased to suggest. But
this generous offer was too much for our native friend, and with a
profusion of thanks truly Oriental he declined it, even going so far
as to declare that the slapping he had undergone at the hands of the
ever-noble and beneficent Carroll--'might his illustrious line long be
permitted to continue!'--without doubt had saved his life, since it
had been the means of spurring him on to a magnificent and gloriously
maintained dash for safety. And so that matter ended happily and to
the complete satisfaction of all concerned."
At this point the colonel came over to our corner and carried away
Penryhn to show him the photographs of our field-work of the previous
year. Stearns got up and went with them, leaving Van and me to smoke
in comfort and exchange at our leisure our views of things in general.
Now, that man Van Sickles is a sceptical sort of person, and he
began to question the probability of the Englishman's story; but I
maintained, as I still do, that it must have been true--for I'm myself
something of a liar, and it's hard work for a brother-prevaricator
to take me into camp. So I tell you the yarn in the full confidence
that it is a true one; and I further will remark that last spring
Penryhn sent over to Stearns an Arab shield, together with half a
dozen villainous, iron-bound spears and a couple of long, straight,
nasty-looking swords, all of which things now may be seen up in The
Battery, where we've arranged them upon the wall, above the big
book-case.
THE HYMN THAT HELPED
THE HYMN THAT HELPED.