CHAPTER II

  Under Fire

  AN hour later Lieutenant Chigi Riefi, having completed his watch ondeck, returned to his cabin. Both lads sprang to their feet inanticipation as the door opened, and the astonishment of the Englishyouths and the young Italian officer was mutual.

  The lieutenant began to pour out a series of rapid questions. Hugh,on his part, with his limited knowledge of Italian, was unable tofollow his questioner, whose perplexity increased when he found thathe had two foreigners in possession of his cabin.

  But by degrees he calmed down, and, when in broken words Hughexplained why they were waiting there, the lieutenant told the ladsthat a serious mistake had occurred--far more awkward than itappeared to be at first sight.

  "There is no Signor Reeves on board this ship," said Riefi. "It isagainst strict orders for any civilians, especially foreigners, to beon board. You must be brought before the captain at once. But do notbe alarmed on that score; we can see that a real mistake has beenmade. Unfortunately, you must come with us to Tripoli. No doubt theCommander-in-Chief will have you sent back by the first availableship."

  "But our friends--they will be in a terrible fright!"

  The Italian shrugged his shoulders.

  "_Corpo di Baccho!_" he exclaimed; "there will be many terriblefrights before this affair is over. But stay here; I must inform thecaptain."

  "We're in a hole," remarked Hugh dolefully, when the two chums foundthemselves once more alone.

  "Never mind, Rags! We're here, and all the moaning in the world won'talter the case. Perhaps they will send a wireless message."

  "I won't mind so much if they do. In fact, I would rather enjoy thefun. What will the other fellows say when they hear we've been to areal war--none of your public-school field days? Besides, Mr. Reeveswill be there to give an eye to us."

  "I'm afraid Mr. Reeves will have other things to attend to," repliedGerald. "But here they come, so stand by for a good wigging."

  The lieutenant returned, accompanied by the captain of the ship andan army officer; but, greatly to the lads' relief, the Italianofficials treated them with every consideration. To theirdisappointment, however, the boys were informed that the _VictorStroggia_ was not fitted with "wireless"; but directly she camewithin signalling distance of any of her consorts thus provided, thenews of their presence would be sent for transmission to Naples.

  "You may go on deck if you wish," continued the captain, speakingslowly and distinctly, so that Hugh could follow him. "We willprovide you with meals, and Lieutenant Riefi is willing for you tosleep on the floor of his cabin. But don't, for your own sakes, getinto mischief."

  Hugh thanked the captain on behalf of Gerald and himself, and whenthe officers had withdrawn, the lads lost no time in availingthemselves of the permission to go on deck.

  It was now nearly sunset. Away on the port quarter could be discernedthe rugged outlines of the mountainous Italian peninsula. Astern, theisland of Capri was a good ten miles off, while a thin column ofsmoke, standing out clearly against the bright sky, marked theposition of the smouldering volcano of Vesuvius. Quite three milesahead, four transports were ploughing steadily along, their funnelsbelching out clouds of flame-tinged vapour; while two more shipsfollowed the _Victor Stroggia_ at about the same distance astern.

  Up to the present, being in safe waters, there had been no fear ofinterruption from the Turkish torpedo vessels which, according toItalian reports, had left the Golden Horn. Nevertheless, had a daringTurkish commander made a raid upon the struggling and unescortedtransports, the result would have been disastrous to the Italianarms.

  At night, however, precautions were taken against attack. Thetransports steamed with screened lights, silence was strictlyenjoined, and the troops were forbidden to smoke. But nothinguntoward happened, and when the two lads arose from their comfortablebed on the floor, and looked through the now open scuttle, they sawthat they were still within sight of land--the island of Sicily.

  Here was the transports' rendezvous, and under a powerful escort ofbattleships the fleet headed for the African shore; and just aftersunrise on the following morning the lads had their first glimpse ofthe glaring white houses and minarets of Tripoli.

  Suddenly a burst of cheering came from one of the transports. Theshout was taken up by the other vessels, till the air re-echoed tothe tumultuous roar. Tripoli had been bombarded. The powerfulordnance of the modern battleships of the Italians had been let looseagainst the crumbling brickwork and mud walls of the antiquateddefences. A glorious victory! Adowa was avenged!

  Already the town of Tripoli was in the hands of the victorioussailors and marines. The Italian tricolour floated over the forts,while several of the timorous inhabitants did not hesitate to displaythe red, white, and green flag from the flat roofs of theirclosely-barricaded dwellings.

  "Mr. Reeves will be too late after all," remarked Gerald.

  "It seems like it. However, I think the troops are beginning todisembark. I wish they would let us go ashore."

  But no: to the lads' entreaties the Italian captain gave a polite yetfirm refusal. No foreigners, other than accredited warcorrespondents, were allowed to land, pending definite orders fromGeneral Caneva, the Commander-in-Chief.

  Four days passed. The transport, denuded of troops, still lay in theroadstead. Occasionally a few shots were fired by the Arabs andTurks, who had retreated to an oasis on the fringe of the desert, towhich the Italian troops would reply by frantic volleys. But most ofthe time was spent by the invaders in throwing up earthworks anderecting wire entanglements; for, in spite of their numbers, theItalians did not treat their fierce and swift-moving foes with acontempt that other civilized nations have had to pay dearly forunder similar circumstances.

  Meanwhile, the lads had contrived to send a message to Hugh's parentsat Naples, and, having fulfilled their obligations as best theycould, they settled themselves wholeheartedly to making the best oftheir novel experience.

  On the morning of the fifth day they were called from the cabin,where they had been temporarily installed, and to their delight foundthat Mr. Reeves was awaiting them on the deck.

  "You're a fine pair of rascals," he exclaimed; "causing your peopleno end of anxiety!" The war correspondent had heard the particularsof their adventure almost as soon as the _Victor Strozzi_ reachedTripoli. The news of how two English lads had evaded theCommander-in-Chief's express orders had spread through the fleet, thetransports, and the army; and Arthur Reeves heard of it from a fellowcorrespondent directly he set foot ashore.

  "The dad knows all about it by now," replied Hugh; "so he won'tmind."

  "He'll be glad to see you back," said Mr. Reeves grimly. "You are toreturn by the _Aleppo_. She sails for Brindisi the day afterto-morrow."

  "Hard lines!" ejaculated Hugh. "But since we've one clear day,couldn't you take us ashore? There's not much doing at present--Imean, you're not very busy, are you?"

  "Not more than usual," replied Mr. Reeves meaningly. "However, if youpromise not to get into mischief, I'll see what can be done."

  In less than half an hour the war correspondent returned with thewelcome news that the lads could go ashore as soon as they were able,with the proviso that they were to be under Mr. Reeves's directsupervision, and were not to approach within one kilometre of thefiring line.

  "That's fair and reasonable, you must understand," concluded theirnewly-appointed guardian. "The Italian officials are trusting you,and if anything goes wrong I must be responsible; so remember! Boyswill be boys, I know; but don't betray the confidence that is placedin you."

  Hugh and Gerald gave the required promise. A boat was lying at thegangway of the _Victor Stroggia_, and into this the three Englishmenstepped. As the boat shot under the stern of the ship, Mr. Reevespointed to a small craft of about twenty tons, painted black, withfelucca rig.

  "That's the _Victor Strozzi_," he announced. "Not much resemblancebetween the two vessels, eh?"

  "She's rather small to make such a long
voyage."

  "But perfectly seaworthy. She was as lively as a top. My boneshaven't ceased to ache yet."

  On landing, they were stopped by a sentry, who demanded theEnglishman's permit. This was immediately produced. The man looked atit as if he understood, and returned the document.

  "When I landed just after sunrise this morning I found that I hadleft my permit on board," said Mr. Reeves. "As I did not want toreturn for it, I gave the sentry the first piece of paper I cameacross in my pocket. That passed me all right; but what do you thinkit was?"

  "An hotel bill?"

  "Good shot, but not quite right. A receipted account for a hundredcigars!"

  "There's not much damage done!" remarked Gerald.

  "Disappointed, eh? It's a good job there isn't, or the nativeswouldn't take things so calmly. Look at that benevolent old chap!"Mr. Reeves pointed to a tall Arab with an almost Hebraic cast offeatures, who, swathed in white from head to foot, was calmly sittingon an empty ammunition case and eating dates.

  "He would be a nasty customer if rubbed up the wrong way; but theItalians have had the good sense and taste to respect the Moslemreligion. Now observe that fellow, as docile as a cat in spite of hislooks."

  The second native was of a totally different type from the first. Hewas tall, lithe, and long-limbed, with negro features and a darkskin that contrasted vividly with the almost olive complexion ofthe other.

  "He's an Arab from the desert, closely related to the Baggaras, whoplayed the dickens with our troops when they broke the square atTamai and El Teb. It's a marvel to me how the Arabs knuckle under socalmly. Frankly, I don't like the look of things, but it's not myplace to offer advice."

  Along the almost deserted streets stepped the war correspondent andhis youthful companions. Every now and again a stretcher party wouldbe met, one with their burden lying motionless and still, anotherwith a soldier groaning and cursing in his agony: while from thedistant desert came the rattle of musketry, punctuated by the deeperreports of the light field guns.

  "Here we stop," exclaimed Mr. Reeves, as they gained a slight rise inthe mimosa-studded sand. "You can see the firing line fairlydistinctly, and we are less than a quarter of a mile from thesupports. Take my glasses, Hugh, and you will bring the men within afew yards of you."

  Hugh Frazer looked long and earnestly. He saw war almost face toface--merely a fringe of men firing from behind trenches, withsmokeless powder, at an unseen foe.

  "Is that all?" he asked disappointedly.

  "Quite enough for you to see, Hugh," replied Mr. Reeves. "The otherside of the picture is fortunately not visible."

  "How about it, Rags?" exclaimed Gerald. "When are you going to giveme a chance with those glasses?"

  "Here you are, then." Hugh handed his chum the binoculars, and thenext moment cried excitedly: "Look, Mr. Reeves, they've caught anArab!"

  Trudging across the sand came three Italian infantrymen. At adistance they looked very similar to English "Tommies" in theirgreenish-grey uniforms and tropical helmets; but on coming closertheir rope-soled shoes, and gaiters, and rifles with long swordbayonets made the resemblance less apparent. Between two of the menwalked a white-robed Arab, his hands tied behind his back, and hishead held defiantly erect. The third soldier marched three paces inthe rear.

  This group formed but part of a long, straggling procession thatseemed to increase in numbers rather than diminish, for men werefalling fast, in spite of their shelter trenches.

  "What are they going to do with that prisoner?" asked Gerald.

  "Take him into the town and lock him up, I suppose," replied Mr.Reeves.

  "There's another, and---- Oh!" Hugh's words broke into an exclamationof surprise, and he pointed excitedly in the direction of a thickclump of palms less than a quarter of a mile to the right.

  "A flank attack," replied Mr. Reeves calmly, although he realizedthat they were in a very awkward predicament; for out of the oasispoured a swarm of Arabs, mounted and on foot, racing at headlongspeed upon the Italian rearguard. "Come along; we must place a safedistance between us and those fellows," he continued. "Make for thathollow. Don't show yourselves more than you can help."

  "Is there any danger?" asked Gerald. The usual smile had left hisface.

  "Mistakes might happen. Those Arabs won't stop to question us, Ifancy. Now, lie down."

  A rapid glance in the direction of the town showed the warcorrespondent that all retreat was cut off. Even from the houses onthe outskirts a ragged musketry fire was opened upon the totallyunprepared Italians.

  Like a whirlwind the Arabs fell upon the stretcher bearers.Two-handed swords and keen, broad-bladed spears completed the workthat bullets had begun. Here and there the entrapped Italians,standing in little knots shoulder to shoulder over their helplesscharges, fired rapidly upon their treacherous attackers; but,overborne by weight of numbers, they were literally cut to pieces.Then, having cut the way for a flank attack, the Arabs resumed theirrifle fire upon the firing line of the Italians.

  Slowly and surely the fierce sons of the Prophet were drawing nearerto the shallow defile in which Mr. Reeves and his youthful chargeswere lying.

  The war correspondent was calm, but deathly pale. His thoughts werenot for himself, but for the two lads whose idle curiosity had ledthem into the present danger. He could see by the massacre of theambulance men that no mercy was to be expected of the lawlesschildren of the desert. Barely twenty yards from where they lay grewa clump of prickly mimosa. The scrub might conceal two persons.

  "Be quick, lads!" said the correspondent sternly. "Crawl to that bushand hide."

  "And you?" asked Gerald.

  "Never mind me; do as you're told. I can look after myself. Obeyinstantly!" There was such a menacing ring in Arthur Reeves's voicethat the lads could not but do as they were ordered. Unseen theygained the scanty place of concealment, and, torn by the sharpspikes, contrived to crawl into shelter.

  "It's a bare chance for the boys," muttered the Englishman, as hedrew his Mauser pistol from its holster. "I'll shout to thosefellows, but I'm afraid it won't be much use.... I hope my notebookwill be found and sent home when this business is over."

  Then, remembering that his chance would be slightly improved if heappeared to be weaponless, he thrust the pistol into the pocket ofhis coat, set his jaw tightly, and waited.

  Already the Arabs were within a hundred yards. Their impetuous rushhad been checked by the fire of the rear rank of the Italians and bythe shrapnel fire from the guns of the fleet; nevertheless they cameon dauntlessly, in the firm belief that Paradise would be theirreward could they but slay an infidel ere they kissed the burningsand.

  Suddenly Reeves saw a faint gleam of hope. Coming towards the wadiwere an officer and three soldiers. By their red tarbooshes thecorrespondent knew them to be Turks. Evidently they had beenprisoners, but had taken advantage of the confusion to slip away fromtheir captors, and were making their way towards the oasis where theremnants of the Turkish garrison had taken refuge.

  Springing from the shelter of the hollow, Reeves ran straight for theadvancing Turks. A spluttering volley was aimed at him, till,realizing, in spite of their fanatical hatred of the Kafir, thatthere was a possibility of harming their fellow Moslems, the Arabsceased to fire.

  As for the Turks, being unarmed and seeing a Giaour rushing at them,they hesitated; but when they found that he was alone, and apparentlyunarmed, they faced the fugitive.

  "Effendi, Effendi, I am English!" exclaimed Reeves breathlessly.

  "An Englishman is a true friend of the Ottoman," replied the Turkishofficer. "By the beard of the Prophet, I will befriend thee."

  But the Turk had no easy task. Placing the correspondent between hismen, he advanced, and shouted to the maddened Arabs to stay theirhands. For a moment it seemed as if the fanatics were beyond control.Some swept past the officer and dashed at the hated infidel.Spearheads gleamed in the Sunlight; rifle barrels were pointed fullat the Englishman's head, although the Turkish soldiers lo
yallyobeyed their superior's orders, and attempted to interpose theirbodies between the menacing weapons and their intended victim. Yetthe Arabs hesitated. They failed to understand the meaning of theTurkish officer's solicitude. He spoke again, with vehemence andauthority. The tension was relaxed.

  The Arabs rushed off to find fresh victims, and for the time beingArthur Reeves was safe.

  "Effendi, if you would break bread again you must come with us," saidthe officer. "This day the sons of the Prophet have tasted the fruitsof victory. The soldiers of Italy have bit the dust. Ere night notone will be left upon the shores of Tripoli. But fear not. I swear bythe Koran that your life will be safe."

  The correspondent knit his brows in perplexity.

  "Do not hesitate," continued the Turk earnestly. "Over yonder youwill be safe, for in the oasis you will find Skilanda Bey, whose lovefor England passes understanding. To-morrow, or perchance the nextday, you will be free to cross the sea, if so be one vessel of theGiaours be left in the roadstead."

  "But I am not alone," replied Mr. Reeves. "I have two youngcomrades----"

  "Italians?"

  "No, English."

  "Then let them also come and fear not. Quickly, lest harm befallthem!" for a shell from one of the battleships had exploded barely ahundred yards from the spot where the Turks were standing.

  "Hugh, come along," shouted Mr. Reeves. "Come along, both of you."

  Without hesitation, though terribly frightened, the lads obeyed. Fromtheir place of concealment they had seen everything that hadoccurred, and even now were in doubt as to the intentions of theircompanion's supposed captors.

  "We're in a mess, lads," remarked Mr. Reeves calmly, as the two boys,with their faces, hands, and clothing torn by the sharp spikes of themimosa, came up to where he was standing. "We are practicallyprisoners of war. Goodness only knows what's happened to the Italiantroops. They are still firing, I hear, but the sound seems to bedying away."

  "Where are we being taken to?"

  "To the oasis. The remnants of the Turkish garrison are there. Idon't think we are in danger, although the situation is extremelyawkward."

  Escorted by the Ottoman soldiers, Mr. Reeves and his companionstrudged across the hot sand, the lads shudderingly averting theirfaces as they passed the numerous motionless bodies of theslaughtered Italian soldiers. They were beginning to learn somethingof the dark side of war.

  And now from the direction of the town the sound of firing began toincrease. The Italian infantry were moving to the support of theircomrades on the fringe of the desert; sullenly the Arabs gave waybefore them, and began to stream back upon the oasis.

  Unfortunately for the three English prisoners there was no sign ofSkilanda Bey and the remainder of the Turkish regiments. They hadtaken up a position fully two miles away, and were pushing home acounter-attack upon an Italian redoubt. This the Turkish officerlearnt from a wounded compatriot.

  "My place is with my regiment, Effendi," said he to thecorrespondent; "so I must leave you. But these three soldiers willstand by you. There is nothing to fear."

  The next instant the kindly Ottoman was gone, and Arthur Reeves, notwithout misgivings, found himself and his charges in the midst of ahorde of Arabs, with only the possibility of three Turkish privatessaving them from indignity, perhaps death. Nevertheless, with theobject of his life's work before him, the correspondent kept hisglasses bearing upon the distant battlefield, keenly intent uponstriking and unique copy for the _London Intelligence_.

  Suddenly a shell, fired at a high angle from one of the battleships,burst fairly in the midst of a group of retreating Arabs, barely twohundred yards from the edge of a cluster of palm trees. The men brokeinto a run, leaving what looked like a smudge of dirty white garmentson the dazzling sand.

  Then another missile, hissing overhead, plunged into the oasis. Thiswas quickly followed by a third. The Arabs lying under cover began togive way.

  "That's good!" muttered the correspondent. "If this goes on we canmake a dash for it. These fellows will pass well on our left."

  Unfortunately another shell, falling on the flank of the nowdemoralized fugitives, caused them to swerve to the right, and,bursting through the scrub, they gained the oasis close to whereReeves and his companions were standing.

  No sooner did they catch a glimpse of the hated Kafirs than,forgetting their panic, they surrounded the three Turkish soldiersand their charges. Once more spears and rifles were raisedmenacingly, while the Turks yelled their hardest in an endeavour tofulfil their superior's orders.

  Thrusting his compatriots aside, a tall, brown-featured Arab, with along black beard, grabbed one of the Turks by the shoulder.

  "In the name of Allah the all-powerful, who are these infidels?" heshouted.

  "They are Inglees, under the protection of Bimbashi Ali," replied theman. "These Inglees are indeed the friends of the Ottoman."

  "Nevertheless they may not be the friends of the true sons of theProphet," replied the Arab, his dark eyes flashing. "Yet, since theybe of a different tribe from yonder Kafirs, I will give them life.Seize and bear them hence."

  In a moment Arthur Reeves was secured, his arms being bound behindhis back with a leather thong. He offered no resistance--sinceresistance would have made matters worse; but in spite of thispassiveness his clothes were torn from his back by his captors intheir efforts to possess themselves of his watch, pistol, ammunition,and other effects. Hugh and Gerald fared much the same, the latter'swatch being the cause of a tough struggle between a Baggara and aTunisian Arab. Eventually the Baggara got possession of abadly-damaged timepiece, and the other man secured three pieces of abroken chain.

  "Make the best of it, lads," exclaimed the correspondent, ascheerfully as he could. "They are not going to kill us."

  "Silence, Kafir!" ordered the sheikh, dealing the Englishman a heavyblow across the mouth. "Walk, and that quickly, lest you feel thepoint of a knife betwixt your ribs."

  Additionally secured by a camel rope, the three Englishmen begantheir march into a long and terrible captivity.

 
Percy F. Westerman's Novels