Read Ebook: Captured at Tripoli: A Tale of Adventure by Westerman Percy F Percy Francis Sheldon Charles Mills Illustrator

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Ebook has 951 lines and 41917 words, and 20 pages

the ambulance men that no mercy was to be expected of the lawless children of the desert. Barely twenty yards from where they lay grew a clump of prickly mimosa. The scrub might conceal two persons.

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

"And you?" asked Gerald.

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

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

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

Already the Arabs were within a hundred yards. Their impetuous rush had been checked by the fire of the rear rank of the Italians and by the shrapnel fire from the guns of the fleet; nevertheless they came on dauntlessly, in the firm belief that Paradise would be their reward could they but slay an infidel ere they kissed the burning sand.

Springing from the shelter of the hollow, Reeves ran straight for the advancing Turks. A spluttering volley was aimed at him, till, realizing, in spite of their fanatical hatred of the Kafir, that there was a possibility of harming their fellow Moslems, the Arabs ceased 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 apparently unarmed, they faced the fugitive.

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

But the Turk had no easy task. Placing the correspondent between his men, he advanced, and shouted to the maddened Arabs to stay their hands. 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 full at the Englishman's head, although the Turkish soldiers loyally obeyed their superior's orders, and attempted to interpose their bodies between the menacing weapons and their intended victim. Yet the Arabs hesitated. They failed to understand the meaning of the Turkish officer's solicitude. He spoke again, with vehemence and authority. The tension was relaxed.

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

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

The correspondent knit his brows in perplexity.

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

"Italians?"

"No, English."

"Then let them also come and fear not. Quickly, lest harm befall them!" for a shell from one of the battleships had exploded barely a hundred 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. From their place of concealment they had seen everything that had occurred, and even now were in doubt as to the intentions of their companion'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 the mimosa, came up to where he was standing. "We are practically prisoners of war. Goodness only knows what's happened to the Italian troops. They are still firing, I hear, but the sound seems to be dying away."

"Where are we being taken to?"

"To the oasis. The remnants of the Turkish garrison are there. I don't think we are in danger, although the situation is extremely awkward."

Escorted by the Ottoman soldiers, Mr. Reeves and his companions trudged across the hot sand, the lads shudderingly averting their faces as they passed the numerous motionless bodies of the slaughtered Italian soldiers. They were beginning to learn something of the dark side of war.

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

Unfortunately for the three English prisoners there was no sign of Skilanda Bey and the remainder of the Turkish regiments. They had taken up a position fully two miles away, and were pushing home a counter-attack upon an Italian redoubt. This the Turkish officer learnt from a wounded compatriot.

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

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 two hundred yards from the edge of a cluster of palm trees. The men broke into a run, leaving what looked like a smudge of dirty white garments on the dazzling sand.

Then another missile, hissing overhead, plunged into the oasis. This was quickly followed by a third. The Arabs lying under cover began to give way.

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

Unfortunately another shell, falling on the flank of the now demoralized fugitives, caused them to swerve to the right, and, bursting through the scrub, they gained the oasis close to where Reeves 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 soldiers and their charges. Once more spears and rifles were raised menacingly, while the Turks yelled their hardest in an endeavour to fulfil their superior's orders.

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

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

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

"Nevertheless they may not be the friends of the true sons of the Prophet," replied the Arab, his dark eyes flashing. "Yet, since they be 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 behind his back with a leather thong. He offered no resistance--since resistance would have made matters worse; but in spite of this passiveness his clothes were torn from his back by his captors in their efforts to possess themselves of his watch, pistol, ammunition, and other effects. Hugh and Gerald fared much the same, the latter's watch being the cause of a tough struggle between a Baggara and a Tunisian Arab. Eventually the Baggara got possession of a badly-damaged timepiece, and the other man secured three pieces of a broken chain.

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

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

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

Prisoners

SURROUNDED by a horde of fierce Arabs, who, with drums beating and weapons waving, seemed more like a victorious host than a retreating army, Arthur Reeves and his young companions were forced through the brambles and scrub that grew thickly within the oasis. In the open the sun beat fiercely upon their bare backs and heads, for in the one-sided struggle all three had lost their linen-swathed hats.

Every now and again a bursting shell, falling wide of the Arabs, would urge them to increase their pace, for the sons of the desert had a deep respect for shrapnel; but at length, drawing beyond range, the fierce warriors lost their sense of fear, and began to beat their drums with renewed vigour, while taunts and threats--fortunately unintelligible to the lads--were hurled at the captives.

At length the party reached a fairly extensive clearing in the oasis, where quite a hundred black tents were erected, and camels sheep, and goats were browsing on the short grass. Veiled women and scantily-clad children, raising a shout of welcome, ran to meet the returning warriors, carrying with them pitchers of water and kayoubs of dried dates and flour for their friends and relations.

Quickly the news spread. The Arabs will never acknowledge defeat to their friends: the unbelievers had been routed and slain, or driven into the sea. Not a Kafir remained betwixt the oasis and the great salt waters, save these three who had been brought in as a proof of the victory of the true followers of the Prophet. But the party could not conceal the fact that their losses had been heavy, and so to the shouts of joy were added the loud wailing and lamentation of the wives and kinsfolk of those who had fallen.

Yet, in spite of the great victory that the Arabs had claimed, the Sheikh Wadherim frequently directed his eyes towards the north, and kept his ears on the alert for the sound of approaching musketry. His camels, cattle, and sheep were gathered together; his goods and chattels were packed in bundles; his tents were ready to be struck at an instant's notice should occasion arise. At sunrise to-morrow, in any case, the long march across the desert to Wadi Tlat would begin, for the fierce Arab chieftain had fought--that being the main reason why he had obeyed the loose Turkish authority, and had led his tribe across the six hundred miles of desert. Now, having tasted of the joys of battle, and paid dearly for it, there was nothing to prevent him from returning to his desert haunts, where there was no fear of aggression from the hated unbelievers.

Still bound, Reeves and the two lads were placed in the centre of the encampment, with nothing to shelter them from the pitiless sun. Behind them, with a business-like, broad-bladed spear held across his shoulders, stood a tall, sinewy Arab.

"What will they do with us, Mr. Reeves?" asked Hugh, speaking with an effort, and then only after he had rolled his swollen tongue over his parched lips.

"Can't say. Hold us to ransom, most likely."

"It is hot, this sun," said Gerald.

"Tear my shirt sleeve off; it's nearly in rags already."

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