CHAPTER XVIII
In the Nick of Time
"STEADY, lads! Aim low. Don't throw a single shot away."
Calmly and resolutely Captain M'Bride's voice travelled along thewhole length of the trench. Every man possessing a rifle gripped theweapon resolutely, while the rest of the defenders, armed withwhatever means of defence came to hand, braced themselves for thecoming desperate struggle.
It was close on sunset. Not a breath of wind tempered the stillstifling heat. The gale of wind that had beset the whaler had not yetreached the sun-baked sand-dunes where the _Portchester Castle's_survivors still held grimly to their scanty defences.
After a series of feints extending over the greater part of the day,the Senussi were at last about to make a determined onslaught. Thecamel-men had dismounted and sent their docile animals out of harm'sway, but the horsemen had massed in a long curved line of foot. Therewas some semblance of military order in the array, taught no doubt bytheir former Turkish instructors, for on each flank, and on risingground, riflemen were posted so as to pour a converging force uponthe British, while the horsemen, supported by hundreds of dismountedArabs armed with sword and spear, charged the extreme left of thedefences.
This was a masterly stroke that Captain M'Bride had not anticipated,for here the trench ran in a diagonal direction to the sea, and ifcarried would expose the rear of the centre to a flanking andenfilading fire. But what the attackers did not know was theexistence of a novel form of _fougasse_--the row of petrol tins.
Clearly the foremost of the assailants were visible in the slantingrays of the setting sun. Behind them followed a cloud of sand, thrownup by the horses' hoofs, through which could be discerned theindistinct forms of a howling mob of fanatical warriors armed withcold steel. In the forefront rode a tall bearded fellow with greenjibbah and turban. With his right hand he brandished a long, straighttwo-edged sword, while in his left he bore a green banner with ascarlet crescent.
"They are not fighting under Turkish colours," remarked CaptainM'Bride to Dacres, who stood by his side. "A sort of Holy War banner,I take it."
Evidently Afir-al-Bahr was of the same opinion, and, finding that hehad not to fight against a force under the Turkish Crescent, hepicked up a huge axe that had come ashore in one of the ship's boats.
"What's that fellow doing?" enquired the skipper hurriedly.
Dacres, whose service in Egypt had made him fairly proficient withthe language of the Eastern Mediterranean States, spoke a few wordsto the Turkish airman.
"I think it's all right, Captain M'Bride," explained Dacres. "The manhas no intention of breaking his parole. He knows quite well that ifhe should fall alive into the hands of the Senussi their treatmentwould be much worse than ours. He told me that some time ago a partyof these meek and mild gentlemen mutinied, and murdered their Ottomanofficers."
"Then let him carry on," decided the skipper. He gave a quick glancein the direction of the oncoming foe. The foremost were now withintwo hundred yards.
"Volley firing by sections--ready!"
A well-timed volley burst from the British trench. The high-velocitybullets, fired at point-blank range, wrought havoc in the crowdedranks of the Senussi. Saddles were emptied by the dozen, and beforethe stricken riders had time to fall to the ground the second sectionpoured in a murderous fire.
Yet undaunted the Senussi pressed on, the standard-bearer, apparentlyunhurt, still brandishing his gleaming weapon. Then, slowly yetsurely, he began to lean forward until he lay across the horse'sneck. The banner dropped from his nerveless grasp just as a bullet,striking the animal on its white blaze, brought man and steed to theground.
In an instant another Arab had snatched up the green flag, and, withredoubled shouts, the dense and now disorganized mob came thunderingacross the level stretch of ground in front of the zariba.
It was now Osborne's time to take up the work with which the absentWebb had charged him. Already one of the bright-red petrol cans hadbeen holed by a couple of accurately placed shots, and the highlyvolatile fluid was escaping and soaking into the hot sand. TheLieutenant could even detect the pungent fumes of the evaporatingspirit. Raising the short, smooth-bored pistol, Osborne pressed thetrigger. The missile--a red rocket--burst against the perforated tin,just as the foremost of the assailants were leaping over the moundthat partly concealed the line of tins.
The next instant flames shot twenty feet or more into the air--a fireso intense that the heat could be distinctly felt by the defenders ofthe trench, while the zariba quivered in the current of air set up bythe sudden rise of temperature.
Five seconds later the adjacent tin exploded, and then another andanother, until the tongues of fire darted a good fifty feet skywards.
That part of the attack was checked and beaten back. The fire barragewas impassable; but on the enemy's left their impetuous rush broughtthem right up to the zariba.
Dauntlessly the Arabs sought to tear away the prickly barrier. Riflescracked, but the number of small arms at the disposal of the Britishwas insufficient to annihilate--it could only diminish--the greatsuperiority of the enemy's forces.
Several of the seamen, armed with knives and marline-spikes lashed tothe end of oars and poles, rendered yeoman service by the use ofthese improvised pikes. Others, having provided themselves with asupply of large stones, hurled them across the intervening barrier atthe nearmost of their assailants.
Nor was Afir-al-Bahr to be denied. With his axe he foughtdesperately, dealing smashing blows whenever a fanatical Arabsucceeded in getting within reach.
For some moments the situation was extremely critical. The improvisedpikes were no match for the long broad-bladed, razor-edged spears,and the advantage of fighting behind the zariba was fast disappearingas the fearless and desperate Senussi persevered in the work oftearing away the wall of thorns.
Against these tremendous odds the handful of the _PortchesterCastle's_ crew fought magnificently, making the best use of theirungainly weapons. British courage and dogged pluck were there. Themen meant to hold their position at all costs, but already thenumbers were being thinned by the relentless pressure of the Arabassault.
At this critical juncture Captain M'Bride, realizing that the Britishleft was in no immediate danger--for the contents of the whole lineof exploded petrol cans were blazing furiously--rushed up everyavailable rifleman. In a few moments the attack, that had had everyappearance of being successful, broke down. The Arabs melted away,the survivors retreating in disorder, leaving fifty or more of theirnumber huddled in front of the partly demolished zariba, and othersat varying distances from the defences.
"We've been and gone and done it now," commented Major Fane.
"How's that?" queried Dacres, as he held out his left wrist for hischum to apply a bandage to a deep but clean gash caused by thepartly-parried thrust of a spear.
"We've fired all the petrol except the two tins we held in reserve.We have none available to repeat the dose."
"I fancy they've had quite enough, eh, what?" rejoined Dacres."Thanks, old man, it feels absolutely all right. A trifle on thetight side, perhaps, but for an amateur, Billy, you know how todoctor a fellow. Hallo, Osborne; how goes it? My word, that petrolflare shook 'em up a bit; but we needn't have used the lot. I wasjust saying----"
"It is indeed unfortunate," interposed Captain M'Bride. "We certainlyought not to have used the whole quantity. I had no idea that itwould make such a furnace. Nearly lifted my eyebrows off, by Jove!"
"It's my opinion that the Arabs won't come up for a second dose,"remarked Dacres.
"If they do they'll exercise more caution," said the skipper. "Wemust be prepared for a night attack. I've told off a party to pick upthe rifles, ammunition, and spears of the Senussi left on the field.Mr. Osborne, will you see that the zariba is repaired?"
The Lieutenant saluted, and hurried away to carry out the Captain'sorder. Already twenty additional Mauser rifles had been brought in,and about four hundred rounds of ammunition. These were s
erved out tothe seamen, the recipients being specially cautioned to keep thecaptured ammunition apart from the British Service cartridges, sothat no confusion would arise in the event of a possible attackduring the hours of darkness.
Osborne had not allowed the lessons of the grim conflict to passwithout gaining useful hints. At his suggestion the zariba wasincreased in thickness, the height remaining the same, while theground for a width of twenty yards in front was liberally "salted"with sharp-pointed thorns that were buried "business end uppermost"in the sand, leaving a couple of inches projecting as a trap forunwary and unshod feet.
Since there was not another _fougasse_ to fire, the Lieutenant loadedthe Very's pistol and lashed it to the stump of a bush about ahundred yards from the trenches. To the trigger he tied a thin pieceof cord, obtained by unreeving the strands of a length of rope, andsecured the other end to a picket driven deeply into the sand. In theevent of any of the Senussi creeping up to the defences at night,contact with the cord would instantly give the alarm.
By dint of hard work, these preparations were completed before theshort twilight gave place to intense darkness. It was now blowinghard from the nor'east, and, in spite of the fact that only a narrowstrip of ground lay between the rear of the trenches and the sea, thedefences were exposed to irritating clouds of fine sand thatpenetrated almost everything--even the intricate breech-mechanism ofthe magazine rifles.
"I wonder how the whaler is faring?" was the question that rose tothe lips of almost every member of the shipwrecked crew, not once butmany times. With the rising breeze the men realized that the boat hada dead beat to wind'ard, and that, even if she could still carrycanvas, her progress towards the distant goal would be very, veryslow.
The night was cold, for the sand radiated its heat with remarkablerapidity, while the on-shore wind was bitterly keen. Without adequateclothing the men suffered acutely, their condition accentuated by thequick contrast with the scorching rays of the sun during the day.Those not detailed for sentry work huddled together in the trenches,the wounded being provided with awnings fashioned from the boats'sails stretched between pairs of oars. Slowly the hours passed, for,although not a single watch belonging to the castaways had survivedthe prolonged immersion in salt water, a fairly accurate count oftime could be kept by means of the position of certain well-knownstars.
At about midnight the sky was overcast, and even this means ofcalculating time was at an end. In utter silence the sentriesmaintained a vigilant look-out, while their comrades either dozedfitfully or lay awake, shivering with cold, and on thorns ofexpectancy for the night attack.
Suddenly the tense stillness of the night was broken by a sharpreport, followed by the appearance of a vivid light two hundred feetor more in the air. The Very pistol had been discharged.
Instantly the defenders sprang to their feet. Those having riflesmanned the loopholes, opened the "cut-offs" of the magazines, andprepared to pour a withering fire into the expected mass of Senussi.
But nothing in the nature of a wild chorus of war-cries pierced thedarkness. In the distance could be heard sounds of commotion amongstthe Arabs, who had encamped at about two or three miles from thescene of the previous encounter. In front of the zariba all wasquiet.
"Did you see anything, Wilson?" asked Osborne of one of the sentries.
"Nothing, sir," was the reply. "And when that rocket went off it wasas clear as day, in fact my eyes are still dazzled by the light."
"Perhaps it was a sniper or a scout," suggested Dacres, who at thefirst alarm had hurried to his post.
"If so, I fancy he's made himself scarce," added Osborne.
"By the by, Osborne," remarked Major Fane, "did you set that cord upfairly tight when you fixed it to the trigger?"
"As taut as I dared," replied the Lieutenant. "It wanted only afour-pound pull to set off the cartridge."
"Then I fancy I can explain," continued the Major. "You didn't makeany allowance for the contraction of the cord with the dew."
Osborne bit his lip. He was too straightforward to offer excuses. Heknew perfectly well the effect of damp upon rope, and at thiscritical time he had omitted to make practical use of his knowledge.The false alarm had turned out every man when they badly needed sleepand rest.
The Very's pistol was reloaded and the trigger-line slacked off. Oncemore the men not on sentry sought to gain some hours of slumber intheir uncomfortable surroundings.
The rest of the night passed without further incident, the enemymaking no further attempt to molest the camp. With the dawn thedefenders were roused. A small quantity of water, half a biscuit, anda morsel of salt beef were served out, and on this scanty ration eachman had to exist for the next six hours.
"Where's that Turkish fellow?" enquired Osborne. "He hasn't put in anappearance for his food."
No one had seen him, for owing to his religious scruples the Ottomanaviator had constructed his shelter at a little distance to the rearof the trench.
"I seed 'im makin' for his caboodle just after that there set-to lastnight, sir," volunteered one of the seamen. "Shall I rout 'im out?"
"No, I'll go," said Dacres. "I can speak his lingo." And crossing theintervening stretch of sand he reached the artificial hollow that theTurk had dug out.
Afir-al-Bahr was lying on his side; his "prayer-carpet", which devoutMohammedans carry with them in all circumstances, was spread at hisfeet. To all appearance the Turk was sleeping peacefully--but it wasthe sleep of death. During the attack on the zariba he had received amortal wound; yet, with a remarkable reticence, he had crawled awayto die in solitude.
They buried him hastily in the hollow he had constructed. No volleyswere fired over his grave--cartridges were too precious for that; no"Last Post" rent the air, since no bugle was available. Yet thehomage of the _Portchester Castle's_ ship's company to a brave andgallant enemy--a man who had done his level best to blow the ship topieces, and had afterwards fought side by side with his country'sfoes--was none the less sincere.
Hardly had the last rites been accomplished when signs of renewedactivity were visible amongst the Senussi. During the night theirnumbers had been augmented by other bands of desert nomads, until thepresent strength more than exceeded the force that had delivered theprevious attack with such disastrous results.
Yet the Arabs appeared to be in no immediate hurry. Evidently theyguessed that the defenders were scantily supplied with food andwater. They could afford to wait until the British, faint withhunger, and weakening under the effect of the enervating, torridatmosphere, would be unable to offer any strenuous resistance.
"I almost wish they'd make a move, by Jove, I do!" remarked Dacres."Suppose I oughtn't to say it though, since the longer they wait themore chance we have of rescue; but it's slow work hanging on to amound of sand and expecting those fellows to make a rush."
"Looks as though your half-expressed wish will be gratified, oldman," replied Major Fane, as a swarm of white-robed men edged alongto the right of the defenders' position, taking considerable care tokeep good cover. "See their move? They're making for the beach. Ifthey get behind us, there'll be the deuce to pay!"
The tactics of the Senussi necessitated a rearrangement of thedefenders. At Captain M'Bride's order, those of the riflemen who hadbeen armed with rifles taken from the dead Arabs were detached fromthe centre and moved to a flanking position, so as to command theapproach along the shore. Those seamen who had brought their ownrifles were still retained in front of the zariba, so as to check anyfrontal attack.
Meanwhile Osborne, assisted by two volunteers, boldly left theshelter of the trenches and began to dig up the scorched andblistered petrol tins. These they set up in a conspicuous place a fewyards in front of the original line, coolly completing the task inspite of an erratic fire from the Arab sharpshooters.
"What's the move?" enquired Dacres when the Lieutenant returnedsafely to shelter.
"It may work; it's a little ruse," replied Osborne. "They'll seethe tins easily enough. I've put the
best side of them facingoutwards. If they think that we'll be able to repeat thecurtain-of-fire business, they'll think twice before making a frontalattack. It's quite bad enough to be taken in the rear of both flanks,without a direct rush."
"There's the green banner again," exclaimed Fane. "That looks likebusiness."
"Steady, my lads," shouted the heroic skipper. "Let 'em have it."
The rattle of musketry sounded along the shore. The result surpassedall expectation, for, to the defenders' surprise, scores of Senussitoppled over on the sand, some writhing, although for the most partthose who fell lay still. The rush ended abruptly, the rest of theArabs turning and running at full speed for the shelter of the dunes.
"That's knocked the stuffing out of them," declared Captain M'Bride."Now, lads, there's another haul of equipment."
A dozen or more of the seamen who did not possess rifles made theirway through the zariba, and approached the fallen foe with theintention of despoiling them of their arms. While engaged in thistask, quite fifty of the fallen Senussi sprang to their feet, andfell upon the tricked men. The ruse was disastrous as far as thedefenders were concerned, for those remaining in the trenches darenot fire for fear of hitting their comrades. Before a rescue-partycould approach, the over-eager despoilers, hopelessly outnumbered,were cut down to a man, while the cunning Arabs, pursued by a fiercefire from the vengeful defenders, succeeded in regaining the mainbody with severe losses.
The handful of the _Portchester Castle's_ crew who had fallen in thisdaring ruse could ill be spared. Although they had fought and diedgamely, and had accounted for more of the enemy than their ownnumbers, the relative loss went against the beleaguered force. Theyhad gained experience at a high price.
Another grave discovery was brought home to the sorely pressed men.Their ammunition was running short. Magazine rifle-fire is apt tomake heavy inroads upon the stock of cartridges, and, although themen had exercised considerable restraint and had hardly thrown away asingle shot; the fact remained that the supply had dwindled down toless than a couple of hundred.
"And the worst of it is," confided Major Fane, "we have those fourwomen--passengers from the _Sunderbund_--in our hands. They are asplucky as one could wish; by Jove, they are! If the worst comes tothe worst----"
"Yes, Major," added Captain M'Bride quietly. "I understand. We mustnever let them fall alive into the hands of these brutes."
Throughout the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon theSenussi continued their wearing-down tactics, making numerous feints,either singly or simultaneously at different points; yet no definiteattack matured. All the while a long-range fire was directed upon thedefences, and although the enemy wasted prodigious quantities ofammunition the net result was two men severely, and four slightlywounded.
"Now they mean business, I fancy," said Major Fane, as a tremendoushubbub, in which the beating of drums figured largely, came from theenemy position. "These fellows seem to fancy the hours beforesunset."
A vast semicircle of dark-featured Arabs, their strength nowexceeding three thousand, told pretty plainly that the defences wereto be rushed from all available directions. This time, save for a fewexceptions, all the attackers were on foot, although in the centrerode another green-turbaned Amir, bearing the emerald-hued bannerthat was to bring victory to the Faithful.
Even as the survivors of the _Portchester Castle_ stood ready for theorder to open fire, the air was torn by the shrill screech of a heavyprojectile, quickly followed by another and another. With asuccession of terrific crashes, twelve-pounder shells burst fairlyamidst the dense serried ranks of the Senussi. It was more thanfanatical courage could stand. They broke and fled, leaving the greenbanner torn to shreds in the grasp of the lifeless Amir.
Too utterly done up even to cheer, the rescued garrison gazedseawards. Less than two miles from shore, and pelting onwards at agood twenty-five knots, was a British destroyer. It was rescue in thevery nick of time.