Czytaj książkę: «On the Road to Bagdad: A Story of Townshend's Gallant Advance on the Tigris», strona 9

"And we'll just roll him over on to his damaged side, like that," the Cox told them. "That means that, as he breathes, that side won't move, and can't move overmuch, while the other one will be doing all the work for him. He is opening his eyes, I do declare! Why! – "

Two penetrating and rather fierce optics were fixed on the trio in the cabin at that moment, while the Commander struggled to move. Then the eyes opened quite widely, the lips curved, and in a second or two he was smiling serenely.

"So the Cox is practising on me all that I've taught him, eh?" he asked, and Geoff noted with relief that the voice was stronger and steadier. "I knew it would come to that some day; I kind of guessed it. Well, Cox, what's the verdict? What's the diagnosis? Is it a cure this time, or has that Turkish officer put in a shot likely to deprive His Britannic Majesty of a somewhat valuable officer? Ahem!"

The gentle cough he gave brought another driblet of blood to the corner of his lips, and caused Geoff to kneel down beside the Commander and expostulate with him.

"Really, sir," he said, "you must keep quiet and stop talking. You – "

The eyes of the old sea-dog who had seized so greatly upon the fancy of Geoff and his chum, opened widely again, and that same expansive, warm-hearted grin was turned upon them.

"Oh! oh!" he exclaimed; and, there was no doubt about it now, his voice was growing steadily stronger. "So our young officers wait until their senior is knocked out, and then start bullying and ordering! Oh! So that's the game, is it, Keith? You are beginning to show up in your true colours! Believe me, my lads, I'm not nearly so bad as you imagine, and, 'pon my word, in a little while I shall be fit to get up and start smoking."

Then he laughed, or, to speak the truth, cackled, for the effort of real laughter was beyond him, while he glanced quizzically at Geoff as that young officer coloured furiously. Yet, though he knew that the Commander was making fun of him, he was delighted at his progress, and a moment later was joining in the merriment.

"Come now," said the Commander, a little later, "tell me all about the thing. You had just knocked that Turkish officer out, and a huge Turk was lifting his hands in token of surrender. I don't seem to remember anything after that; I must have tumbled backwards into this cabin. And now that you have laid me on the floor, there's no seeing anything but the sky above me. Where are we? Where's the Turkish launch? What happened? And, of course, we captured the beggars!"

Very quickly Geoff told him precisely what had resulted from their attack upon the Turkish launch, and how they had captured the vessel, and what remained of her crew.

"We are lying to, behind the island, at this moment, sir," he added, "for by doing so we are hidden from the enemy. I thought it best to repair damages."

"Yes, yes! Human and material," smiled the Commander, who was ever on the look-out for some little joke. "But wait! I may not be the only one wounded. What's the report from my fellows?"

Philip had already obtained it, and at once communicated the facts to Commander Houston.

"One man hit through the fleshy part of his arm, and only slightly incapacitated; another has lost the tip of one finger. That's all the human part about it, sir," he said, with a grin. "As for the material: there are half a dozen holes bored through your motor-launch, and I believe the Cox has already made a cure by means of filching material from the box containing surgical dressings."

"Good! We have come through that little business splendidly," said the Commander. "And now, what next?" he asked, fixing his eyes on Geoff and then swinging them round to Philip. "What next? You have captured the launch – "

"We!" expostulated Geoff. "You were in command, sir, don't forget that! And by the time you fell their resistance was almost finished."

"Then 'we' – we have captured the launch, and that, you will remember, was a point I laid stress on. Then?" asked Commander Houston, peering into Geoff's face. "Did it occur to you, young Keith, that – "

Geoff smiled at the wounded Commander, and seated himself opposite to him.

"I think the same idea occurred to me, sir," he said, "and perhaps somewhere about the same moment. You see, the Turks aboard that steamer, the fellows who fired that gun at us, know now well enough that the British have sent a motor-boat up the River Euphrates, and a motor-boat is a thing they will be hunting for. But a steam-launch, one of their very own, manned by a Turkish officer and Turkish soldiers, would have a chance to pass up the river right under their noses. In command of a boat like that, a fellow might find out a great deal more than if still aboard this motor-boat. So I thought that if we were lucky enough to capture the launch we might send off a party on her."

"Showing that wise heads think in the same direction," the Commander laughed a second later, though his eyes were twinkling with excitement. "Confound this wound! But for that, I can tell you, I should have commanded this second expedition. The scheme is just one that is likely to succeed, and, as you say, Keith, has better chances than we should have, now that the Turks have dropped upon us. Being wounded myself, of course, I shall have to give way to another, and it looks to me as though our friend the Cox would have to command this little expedition."

You could have knocked Philip and Geoff down with the proverbial feather. Their faces, which had been smiling before and lit up with enthusiasm, suddenly lengthened, while they regarded the Commander with something akin to horror, if not positive anger.

"But," exploded Philip, "I – you – we – "

Commander Houston laughed again, laughed till he choked and coughed, and until Geoff begged of him to take things quietly.

"I – you – we – " he said at last, mimicking Philip. "Well, well! I'll tease you no further. Of course, Keith will take charge of this little affair; and seeing that you, Denman, are, as it were, under his direct command, why, of course, he'll take you with him. For me, though I like to take things in the right way, and not make a fuss, I realize well enough that that Turkish officer has knocked me out completely. Don't worry!" he went on. "I'm hit hard, I know, but it takes a precious deal to kill a man of my stamina; and, to tell you the truth, though I feel weak and rather knocked out for the moment, I'm very far from dying. But marsh lands and swamps, such as we lie in, are not good for wounds; and that being the case, and since I should be a hindrance to the whole party, I shall 'bout ship and steam down to the Shatt-el-Arab. We know the route now, we shall have little to fear once we are away from this neighbourhood, and we can travel with a diminished crew. Keith, my boy, set about investigating the contents of our capture."

Leaving the Commander in the cabin, and taking the precaution to haul a piece of sailcloth over the opening above so as to shelter him from the direct rays of the sun – which were now pouring down upon the marshes – Geoff and Philip stepped aboard the captured launch, and made a thorough survey of her, discovering a quantity of rifles and ammunition, besides a supply of dates and coffee. In a cabin aft of the engine-room there were some tinned provisions, which no doubt had belonged to the officer. For the rest, there was sufficient fuel aboard to take the vessel a considerable distance, and, in fact, little was required to make her fit for service.

"We could go off on her right away," Geoff told his chum, his voice exultant, "for there is food enough on board to feed you, and me, and the crew we shall require to man her. As to water, we can get that from the boiler at any time, and so need have little fear of fever. I vote we ask the Commander to allow us a certain supply of provisions and ammunition for the men we take with us. As to the number of the latter, of course, he will decide upon it; but the sooner we select our men the better, for they must discard their present clothing and dress up in the uniforms of the Turkish soldiers."

When they came to the point of selecting the half-dozen men that the Commander decided to allot them, Geoff found that he was face to face with an unexpected difficulty. For, calling the sailors about him on the deck of the Turkish launch – as he wished to leave the Commander quietly resting – he had barely opened his mouth sufficiently to explain what was about to happen, and to call for volunteers, when every man of the party stepped forward. More than that, there was an insinuating smile on the faces of all, without exception, the sort of smile a man indulges in when he wishes to ask a favour. It was a kind of dilemma which an older man than Geoff, and one far more experienced, would have dealt with at once, though not without difficulty; but Geoff, we admit the fact, was utterly confounded.

"But," he stuttered, "I – don't you know – I – well, that is, I only want six of you, so what's the good of all of you volunteering?"

"That's just it, sir," the Cox explained. "There's not a single man jack here who don't want to be one of the party. Beg pardon, sir," he added, a moment later, seeing that Geoff was puzzled and perplexed, "if you was to leave it to us we'd soon fix the business. We'd draw lots, and then not a single one of the men could feel that he was out of favour. The lucky ones would be envied, that's all, and the rest of 'em would go back with the Commander as pleasant as possible."

Within a few minutes, as a matter of fact, the whole matter had been amicably settled; and thereafter Geoff and Philip were busily engaged in dressing the men they were to take with them, securing for that purpose the clothing of Turks who had fallen during the conflict. Then, about an hour before dusk fell, they set off from the place where they had been lying behind the island, the Turkish engineer still manning his engine, while one of their own men was at the wheel. Philip was right for'ard, quite a fierce-looking Turk in his dirty khaki uniform and fez head-covering. As for Geoff, he sat on the little platform just in front of the funnel, and no one taking even the closest look at him would have suspected him of being a British officer. A moment before, he had gripped the Commander's hand and had received a cheery send-off from him. Then smoke gushed from the funnel, the Turkish engineer pulled gently at his throttle, and the screw of the steam-launch began to churn the water. Signals were exchanged between those seeming Turkish soldiers on the deck of the launch and the British sailors still remaining on board the motor-vessel. Then the launch gained the far end of the island, and, swinging round it, disappeared, the last glance which Geoff cast over his shoulder showing him a number of disconsolate individuals watching their departure, while, seated aft on the motor-vessel, were the nine or ten prisoners whom they had captured. Stealing silently across a wide stretch of swamp, and answering cheerily a signal flung out from the bigger Turkish steamer somewhere away on the river, the launch was headed to the left until she gained a group of islands.

"In here, Excellency," said the native, who, naturally enough, formed one of the party. "There's a channel amongst those islands which I have followed, and which will take us up within half a mile of the river stream, yet hidden from it. Let the man drive the boat faster while there is nothing here to impede us."

As darkness fell that night, the launch was tearing along through the stagnant water, flinging a bow wave on to the islands which cropped up, now to the right and now to the left of her. Sometimes her steersman was forced to make her swerve somewhat violently, to avoid an obstruction consisting of ooze and mud and covered with thick-growing reeds, but for the most part her course was directly forward, and parallel to the river. At length, as darkness fell, the engines were stopped, and the boat was brought to a halt between two islands. There the anchor was dropped, and the little force made ready to spend the night and to prepare for an eventful to-morrow.

CHAPTER IX
A Cutting-out Expedition

"What's that? Listen! I heard something!"

Geoff cocked his head up over the side of the cabin in which he and Philip had been partaking of their evening meal, and turned his face towards the River Euphrates, across the waste of ooze and mud and water which separated their captured launch from it – a waste hidden by the darkness, and yet illuminated ever so faintly by a crescent of the moon, which was already floating above them, while stars peppered the sky in every direction, and helped to make things visible. Across the waste of water, dulled by the whisper of the evening breeze as it rustled through the reeds and osiers, a sound had come to Geoff's ears, a sound which caused him to enjoin silence upon all aboard the steam-launch. Then, as he listened, there came to his ears, at first faintly only, but growing steadily yet gradually louder, the plug, plug of the paddles of a river steamer.

"The Turk who had the cheek to fire that shot at us!" exclaimed Philip. "Listen to him! He's going up the river, and I dare say he's wondering what's happened to his launch, and whether he'll find that rather nice and comfortable little vessel waiting for him up-stream. Eh, Geoff?"

"Listen! The paddles are going slower, and it sounds to me as if the steamer was going to pull up for the night. You must remember that the Euphrates isn't the sort of river that one cares to steam up at any kind of pace during the hours of darkness, for by all accounts it's stuffed full of sand-banks and muddy islands, which are always changing, 'specially after rains and storms. There's a voice," Geoff went on; "that's someone giving an order! And now the paddles have ceased altogether."

"Plunk! There goes her anchor. She's come to a roost without a doubt!" ejaculated Philip. "That's rummy, ain't it? Our Turkish friends will be settling down for their evening meal – or whatever sort of thing they have – within sound of us, and, I'll lay my hat, without suspecting that their precious steam-launch is within easy reach of them."

Geoff stretched out a hand in the semi-darkness and gripped his chum by the shoulder.

"Splendid!" he said.

"Eh?" asked the other, a little bewildered. "What's splendid? Having the Turks so close to us? 'Not 'arf', as 'Tommy' is fond of saying. Why, we shall have to lie as quiet as mice here, and the next thing you'll be doing will be to order us to cease smoking, for fear the light of our pipes should be seen aboard the steamer. Most inconsiderate of that Turk, I call it! For he might at least have stopped down the river, or gone a little higher, so that we might have passed a peaceful night, and made ready for all sorts of things to-morrow. 'Splendid!' Hum! Sorry I can't agree with you, my dear fellow."

If he could only have guessed what was in Geoff's mind at the moment, and could have seen that young fellow quite clearly, Philip might easily have given expression to quite different opinions. For, to be precise, our young hero, dressed in the uniform of a Turkish officer, and with a Turkish fez perched on his head, was as near the actual thing as could well be imagined. In daylight, in the city of Bagdad, and, for that matter, in any other city, he might very well have passed muster; while the fact that he was able to speak the language fluently – as fluently as any native – made his disguise all the better; and now, with some idea in his head to which Philip was a stranger, there occurred to Geoff the thought that the coming of this steamer to such close quarters presented a splendid opportunity. He shook his chum savagely, so as to silence him.

"You don't let a fellow finish!" he exclaimed. "But it's splendid, really splendid, that that steamer should have dropped her anchor within easy reach of us."

"And why, pray?" asked Philip, rather inclined to banter with his senior officer.

"Why, being so near makes it all the easier for a fellow to get aboard her."

"A – bo – ard her!"

Philip opened his mouth wide, and his eyes too, though that didn't help him to see his chum any the better.

"Well – but – surely – you don't mean to – Well, I'm hanged!" he exclaimed. "And – of course – of course it's splendid, as you say – a splendid opportunity. But you'll never think of going alone, eh, Geoff?" he asked, with a pleading note in his voice. "Supposing a Turkish sentry caught hold of you? Supposing you got 'lagged' immediately you were on board, what then? I – "

"You would be required aboard this launch to take command of the expedition," Geoff told him curtly. "But let's be serious, Phil. We're out to learn all we can of the Turks, and, as you know, it's been reported that the enemy are gathering somewhere up the River Euphrates, behind or in this long stretch of marsh land. We might push up the river in the early morning and discover them. We might barge into the very midst of them, and find ourselves surrounded, with no chance of getting away and carrying our information to Head-quarters. But what we want to know is known aboard that steamer. The officer in command is nearly sure to be of superior rank, and in any case he must know where the Turks are assembling."

"And so," argued Phil, as he bit at a cigarette, "and so, my boy, you've designs on the steamer. 'Pon my word! I wish I was able to speak the lingo. Languages are things I've always hated; but I can see what advantages they give to a fellow, what fun they bring him, and – ahem! – what chances of promotion. So you'll go aboard? Wish the dickens I could come with you."

"I shall go aboard and find out the whereabouts of this officer."

"And then you'll listen to his conversation through the keyhole if need be," said Philip, whose buoyant spirits always made him seize upon the smallest opportunity of being facetious. "Keyhole, eh? Wonder if Turks have 'em? Anyway, you'll contrive to find a spot from which you can hear the old bounder; and then, of course, the business will be to make him converse upon the subject upon which you are most interested. That's a teaser, eh? How will you do it? Supposing he's immersed in an argument about the war, and about the rights and wrongs of the Turks and the Germans; or supposing he's only telling his under-officer – for I suppose there is such an individual – all about his home life, his wife and his children, his house and his garden. Supposing, in fact, he won't get on to your line of argument, and won't babble about the Turks and their concentration in the marshes."

Hum! It certainly was a teaser, and the situation as Philip drew it had not occurred to Geoff before. That it was possible to reach the steamer in the tiny dinghy carried aboard the launch, and to clamber unseen aboard her, he did not doubt; that he might, by skill and cheek, contrive thereafter to get within sight and sound of the Commander, he thought was within the bounds of possibility; but to make that Commander talk, to make him give the information which Geoff sought, was an entirely different matter altogether.

"By George!" he exclaimed; "that would be awkward."

"It would," Philip told him in tones of irony. "You're aboard the steamer, you've – not actually, but let us say metaphorically – sat down in the cabin occupied by this old bounder, and then he won't talk, you can't make him talk; he's glum, we'll say; he's agitated about the loss of the steam-launch; he can't make up his mind what all that firing meant, and where his twenty-odd soldiers and the two officers who commanded them have got to. In fact, he's in the dickens of a stew, in a beastly temper, smoking a cigar, and won't say 'nothink'."

"Oh, shut up!" Geoff told him angrily.

"Like the Turkish captain, in fact," Philip laughed. "But, seriously, just as you said a moment ago, seriously, what's to be done? You know the old adage: 'You can take a horse to the water, but no amount of kicks or coaxing will make him drink'; well, this old Turk may be just like that obstinate old horse. He's there, aboard his steamer, and nothing will make him talk, not even – "

"Stop!" commanded Geoff abruptly. "'Nothing will make him talk,' you say? Won't it? I mean to get information out of the old beggar – for I presume he is old – but don't forget that neither of us have seen him yet, so he may be young and active. All the same, I am going aboard now, and, of course, if I don't come back within reasonable time you will have cause to believe that I have been captured. Then the command of the expedition devolves upon you, and it is for you to carry out the work entrusted to us. Just launch that dinghy, quietly, my lads," he called over the front of the cabin, "and see that there's a paddle in her."

Geoff began to grope in the cabin of the steam-launch, till his hand presently lit upon the pannier containing dressings, which had been handed over to them by the gallant Commander, whom they had left wounded aboard the motor-boat.

"You may want it, lads," he had told them. "There is never any saying when you may come up against the Turks, and, having had one brisk little engagement with them, you may have another, and, of course, may very well have some of the crew wounded. Of course, I hope that that won't be the case, but you never know your luck. For that reason we'll divide up the dressings, I taking sufficient for my own purposes while you take enough for yours."

"Got it!" exclaimed Geoff, as his hand lit upon the pannier. "Now for a pad of cotton-wool and a couple of bandages."

"Eh!" asked Philip curiously; "'Couple of bandages,' 'cotton-wool' – you're going aboard a steamer, now what in the name of the dickens is that for?"

Geoff didn't tell him to mind his own business, for he was far too polite a young fellow to give such an answer, neither did he speak to his inquisitive chum gruffly even; instead, he maintained silence, whilst he carefully picked out the bandages and the pad of cotton-wool. Then Phil suddenly gripped him by the shoulder.

"I've got it!" he exclaimed.

"Got what?" asked Geoff curtly.

"Got it, of course," came the answer; "the bandages and the pad of cotton-wool; the idea, my dear boy, the very smart and brilliant brain-wave that's come to you. You're going to – "

"What?"

"What! Why of course the brain wave," Philip told him hotly. "I've guessed your idea; you're going to get aboard that steamer, and just because that old bounder of a Turk – "

"What old bounder of a Turk? The Captain?" asked Geoff. "He isn't old. At least, how do we know that he's old? He may be young, middle-aged, bald-headed and toothless."

The two of them were getting quite angry, and for a moment or two it looked as though the wordy warfare in which they were beginning to be engaged would develop into quite a battle. Then Geoff giggled – an excited little giggle – while Phil joined his chum heartily, and brought one hand down with a thump on the broad of his back.

"Jingo!" he exclaimed. "You're right, of course we don't know whether the old bounder is young or old, or even toothless; but we do know that there's a captain or an officer in charge of that steamer, and, what's more, we know, what you want and didn't tell me, that we're going to capture him."

"We're going to!" exclaimed Geoff. "I thought I'd already said, as the officer commanding this expedition – "

"Ahem!" coughed Philip. "Certainly, sir, you did say that," he said in his most demure manner. "But the job, if you'll allow me to say so, is rather a big one – in short, and in fact, it's a 'tough nut' you propose to crack, and in cracking it you're just as likely to come to grief yourself, and possibly to have your head cracked. Indeed, as your immediate junior, as one anxious for the success of this most important expedition, it becomes my duty to point out that failure on your part, failure because you have gone into the matter without sufficient forces at your command, will lead inevitably to the ghastly failure of the whole expedition. Once the alarm is given, once there is no longer the chance of a surprise, in fact, once the Turks are on the qui vive, and know what we are up to, the game's up, and we've lost! Nice to have to return to the camp on the Shatt-el-Arab, and tell 'em that we've been a hideous failure!"

He was piling it on with a vengeance, was Philip, but then he was an artful, if light-hearted and jovial fellow, and here he had a most distinct object in view. He plucked Geoff eagerly by the sleeve.

"Rotten, that!" he told him. "Just fancy what the fellows would say! They'd not forget to tell us all about it, and make nasty remarks about chaps with swollen heads who'd gone up the river on their own, thinking to do a heap, and returning without carrying out their object, or even nearly completing it. See?" he asked Geoff, with decided emphasis, and repeated his demand as a movement of his chum seemed to denote some signs of giving way. "Just think it over, Geoff! You go aboard the steamer and creep along the deck till you come to the Captain's cabin. Don't forget that you want the bounder to talk about the Turks and their position, and just remember what I said when I suggested that he'd talk on any and every subject rather than that. Well, aboard the steamer you can't make him answer your questions, or launch out into an explanation of the Turkish plans of campaign; so you decide to kidnap him, and have the idea of plugging his mouth with that cotton-wool, and winding a bandage about his head. Very pretty! Awfully nice if the thing works! But will it? Supposing he shouts before you plug his toothless mouth – he was toothless I think we agreed – supposing he's not alone, what then? You're done! Your plan's defeated. You might just as well have stayed aboard this launch and rested. But – "

"But if Phil – the eager Phil – happened to be close at hand, ready to brain the other fellow. Ah!" exclaimed Geoff, and for the life of him he couldn't help laughing at the excitement and the eager pleading of his chum.

It made him laugh when he remembered how adroitly and how expertly Philip had worked round the question, had pointed out so very clearly the chances of failure, and then had come in at the end with the greatest arguments for his own inclusion in the adventure. Arguments which Geoff himself could not deny; for a friend at hand, a stanch friend, might very well turn the scales in his favour, and, after all, what a prize the Captain of that steamer would be, if they could only lay their hands on him.

"Better far than the chief I bagged at the very beginning of the campaign," he told himself, though he spoke aloud.

"Agreed!" said Philip. "I don't, of course, want to say that that wasn't quite a nice little business, but then, this is really 'It', or will be if we bring it off. So I come, don't I?"

"You do. Your revolver's loaded, eh?"

"And ready," Phil said, "and the dinghy is alongside."

"Then come on."

Leaving the oldest sailor in charge of the launch, with instructions to lie in that position till morning came, and then to look about for them, and to return down the Euphrates in the event of not discovering their officers, Geoff and Philip crept gingerly into the dinghy, which had been brought close alongside, having been launched from the deck of the little steamer where it was usually carried.

"Push off," said Geoff, "and keep your ear open for a hail, for it'll be no easy job to find you in the darkness."

"Aye, aye, sir," replied the man, "good luck to you."

Geoff dipped his paddle in the water, and thrust hard with it, while Philip, seated in the stern, used a paddle as a rudder. Stealing along the narrow channel in which the steam launch lay, they soon rounded the end of one of the islands which formed it, and halted there for a while to allow their eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness. Then they turned sharp left, facing the direction in which the River Euphrates lay, and stole onward across the waste of waters, threading their way between muddy banks where the slime and ooze clung, and often diving under perfect archways of reeds, where the islands were close together. Once or twice they had to return on their tracks, finding their way obstructed, and on one occasion they bumped gently into an island, and stuck fast for a while, till Geoff came aft – thus tipping the bows of the dinghy upward and so loosening her. It was perhaps half an hour later that they felt, rather than saw, that they had gained the main stream, the wide expanse of smooth, almost motionless water, where eddies from the river sometimes stirred the surface, and where the flow, moderately rapid in the centre, was so retarded as to be almost imperceptible.

"Straight across," whispered Geoff, "there are the lights of the steamer just up-river of us, so we'll cut across to the centre, where I reckon her to be lying, and then steal up behind her. Gently with your paddle, Phil, for a splash might attract the attention of a sentry and bring rifle-fire upon us."

Another ten minutes passed, during which they plunged their paddles gently though firmly into the stream, and forced the little boat steadily upward, and during that time the dull, dimly visible hull of the vessel lying out in mid-stream gradually grew bigger and bigger. At length they were right under her stern, and found that, though low-built in the centre, and indeed generally, she was yet well above their heads, so much so that the dinghy lay close to the rudder and practically under the stern of the vessel. It was just then that the end of a trailing rope struck Phil gently across the face, and, groping for it, he had soon seized upon it firmly.

"Half a mo'!" he told Geoff. "What's this? A rope, a rope to make our boat fast to. Now I call that particularly accommodating of this old party we've come to visit."