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

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

"Why?" asked young Kirby wonderingly.

"Never mind why. For one reason, I can't tear it myself."

Raising his bound wrists with an effort, while the correspondent rolled over in the lad's direction, Gerald gripped the fragment of thin flannel, and in another moment Reeves was without a sleeve, in addition to a backless shirt.

"Give me the piece. That's it. Now, lean my way," and the correspondent neatly placed the broad strip of flannel upon the lad's head. "Save you from sunstroke, perhaps. Now, Hugh, you take a strip from Gerald's shirt. It's in about the same first-class condition as mine."

But before Hugh could perform his part of the task, the Arab touched him on the shoulder with the haft of his spear, then spoke a few words to one of the crowd who were enjoying the spectacle of the captured Kafirs. The youth addressed evidently stood in awe of the custodian of the prisoners, for his broad smile vanished, and turning he ran swiftly towards the outskirts of the encampment.

In a few moments he returned with two broad leaves in his hand, which he offered to the man who had ordered him to bring them. Speaking rapidly, the latter commanded the youth to place them on the heads of the two uncovered captives.

Arthur Reeves caught the meaning of the Arab's words, but kept the news to himself. It was not pity that had prompted the man to act thus. A slave whose head has been turned by the sun would be worse than useless, for the Arabs, believing that a madman is under the special protection of Allah, make sure that he is well cared for, even though worthless from a commercial point of view.

So they were to be sold as slaves? If the worst came to the worst, Reeves thought, there was a means of escape, and he brought his knees together smartly. Yes, thank heavens! their savage captors had not entirely stripped off the clothing of their prisoners; and bound in the folds of his puttees was a small yet serviceable automatic pistol, no thicker than a tobacco pouch, while behind his left knee was a packet of fifty '22 cartridges, small, yet powerful enough to drive completely through a man.

Suddenly a sharp but distant buzz smote upon his ear. Several of the Arabs also heard the noise, and hundreds of dark-brown faces were turned skywards.

With a painful effort the correspondent turned his head and looked. At a good five hundred feet above the palm-tops a mono-plane was passing swiftly in an easterly direction. Reeves could distinctly see two men, one sitting behind the other. As for the Arabs, they were too astonished even to utter a sound. The spectacle of a giant bird with motionless wings bodily carrying off two men was too marvellous for words.

Presently the monoplane tilted slightly, and changed its course in the direction of the encampment. The lads gave a stifled exclamation of joy, but the correspondent knew that a fresh danger was in store for them.

"Lie down flat!" he exclaimed, throwing himself upon the ground.

Seeing the gigantic monster swooping towards them, the Arabs--men, women, and children--took to flight. Even the spearman who was in charge of the captives took to his heels and ran for the scanty shelter of the palm trees.

"Stand by to run for it!" exclaimed Mr. Reeves. "But don't move till I give the word."

The correspondent still kept his eyes fixed upon the rapidly approaching monoplane. One of the men in it did exactly what Reeves expected he would do--he leaned sideways and dropped a small bomb.

Five seconds later the missile struck the ground, and burst with a deafening report, throwing showers of sand in all directions. Two of the rearmost Arabs fell, and several of the sheep and cattle were literally blown to atoms; but, although small pieces of iron and plenty of sand swept over the prostrate captives, Reeves and the two lads escaped unscathed.

"Now, run for it!" shouted the correspondent, for the monoplane was skimming over the palm trees, its crew evidently thinking that one bomb was enough.

Hampered though they were by their arms being tied by the camel rope, the fugitives made good progress. Could they but gain the shelter of that part of the oasis lying to the north of the camp, chances would be in their favour, since the Arabs had taken refuge on the southernmost side. But just as they were on the verge of the thick scrub Hugh stumbled and, unable to break his fall, crashed heavily upon the ground. This brought the others up, and as Mr. Reeves stooped to help the lad, as well as the hampered condition of his arms would allow, a loud shout told them that their flight had been discovered.

Escape was now out of the question. Surrounded by twenty Arabs, whose rage had been increased by the slaughter of much of their stock, and who imagined that that was part of an attempt by the Italians to free the three Kafirs, they were dragged back to the encampment, where they were beaten and kicked till the two lads, who barely knew what bodily pain was, were almost dead. As for Mr. Reeves, he took his punishment gamely, knowing that any resistance or sign of fear would make their captors take a keener zest in their work.

The attack upon the encampment made things worse for the three prisoners, for the Arabs, finding that they were still within range of their foes, immediately struck their tents, and before sunset the diminished followers of the Sheikh Wadherim were on their way southward to the distant oasis of Wadi Tlat.

It was with some semblance of military order that the caravan set out. Twenty or thirty white-robed Arabs, armed with modern rifles, led the way, perched in high-peaked and backed saddles upon the backs of ambling and rolling camels. Next followed the cattle and sheep, under the care of a body of men who--though Arabs by birth, religion, manners, and customs--were undoubtedly of negro descent. After them came the women and children, some seated on mules and horses, some afoot, with a sprinkling of men armed with long matchlocks as a bodyguard. Next more camels--not the swift hieries of the warriors, but those commonly used as beasts of burden--each with a large net-like sack slung on either side. Behind these came the three prisoners, on foot, while a guard of about fifty half-naked spearmen and flintlock-men brought up the rear.

Hugh and Gerald were already almost worn out by fatigue, pain, and despair. They realized that every step was taking them farther and farther from the sea, but whither they had no idea. Possibly it was better for them to remain in ignorance. At least, so thought the correspondent, who did his utmost to cheer his young companions, although he himself was filled with vague fears. "Poor, pampered youngsters!" he thought. "It's hard lines. But, if ever they get out of this mess, it will be the making of them."

After the going down of the sun the burning heat lasted for about an hour, while the sand was radiating; but soon the intense warmth gave place to a chilling coldness, till the three captives, but partly clad, shivered in the darkness. Yet at a steady pace of about three miles an hour the caravan continued on its way, steering its course by the stars. A distance equal to twenty-four English miles had to be covered before the next of the long chain of oases could be reached, and it was Sheikh Wadherim's intention to accomplish this part of the journey ere dawn.

Reeves pondered deeply as he trudged painfully on his way. His greatest anxiety was concerning his two young friends. What would happen if they were to be separated? Had he been alone he would not have hesitated to make a dash for freedom at the first opportunity. The farther the Arabs were away from the sea, the more lax would become their vigilance. A swift hierie, his automatic pistol, and half an hour's start, and he would back himself against the whole tribe. But with the lads this was not to be thought of. He was in honour bound to keep by them as long as was humanly possible.

In any case, the correspondent made up his mind that he would give no sign that he had a smattering of Arabic. A few unguarded words from his savage captors would doubtless prove of immense benefit to him in the future.

At about two in the morning a halt was called and a meal served out. The captives were given a small quantity of water in a gourd, a handful of maize, and a few dates--exactly the same as their captors, save that their portion was considerably smaller. In a quarter of an hour the sheikh gave the order to resume the march, and after the enforced rest the agonies of their worn bodies made the Englishmen wish that the halt had never been made.

And, unable to complete his sentence, the lad manfully tried to swallow a lump that would rise in his throat.

"I can't go on much farther, Rags," he continued, after a lengthy pause. "My ankle's giving out."

"Lean on me if you can," replied Hugh; "I'm fairly fit." But even as he spoke his knees momentarily gave way under him.

"What's that? Can't keep up?" asked Mr. Reeves. "Here, let me give you a hand," and, adding to his difficulties by having to twist his bound hands, the elder of the two gripped Hugh by the arm.

"What will happen if we can't keep up?" asked Hugh. "Will they kill us?"

"I think not," replied the correspondent. "But don't talk about giving up. These fellows will rest all day."

Just then Hugh stumbled again, this time on his knees. His companions halted.

Out of the darkness sprang a gigantic Arab, and, using the octagonal butt of his musket with no sparing hand, he prodded the unfortunate lad with it till Mr. Reeves interposed his own body. Then the man slung his piece across his back, and, grasping Hugh in his sinewy, powerful grip, set him on his feet. But the lad, in spite of his efforts to walk, fell once more.

Meanwhile the rest of the caravan, avoiding the halting group, was passing by. Calling to one of his fellows, the Arab drew his knife--a keen, two-edged weapon, with a short wooden handle. Even in the starlight Reeves recognized the kind of knife; it was similar to those the Arabs used to hamstring the chargers of the 21st Lancers at Omdurman.

The blade glittered, flashed in the dull light, and sank--not in the lad's back, but through the thong that bound his arms; then, lifting Hugh like a sack, the man threw him into the high-pommelled saddle of a horse that another Arab had brought up.

Hugh's two comrades were still attached to him by the camel rope, one on either side; but this proved to be a blessing in disguise, as the two footsore captives were able to aid themselves by the tension of the cord.

Just before dawn the few trees that comprised the oasis of El Khor loomed up against the paling stars. Suddenly the men at the head of the column checked the camels, and brought their rifles to the ready. Reeves could hear the metallic click of the bolts.

Then the tense silence was broken by a voice exclaiming in Arabic: "Peace be between us!" to which Sheikh Wadherim replied: "There is peace between us." Instantly the Arabs discharged their rifles in the air, and urged their camels forward to mingle with the tribes already in possession of the oasis.

Utterly worn out, Hugh was lifted from his horse, and the three comrades in distress threw themselves upon the hard ground. In spite of the cramped position of their arms--for Hugh was again secured--they slept the sleep of utter exhaustion.

The correspondent was the first to awake. It was broad daylight, but the sun was not yet high enough to cause discomfort.

Standing in front of the three English captives were the Sheikh Wadherim and another Arab, evidently a person of importance.

"These, then, my brother, are the tokens of our victory over the unbelieving dogs?" asked the stranger.

"Aye, thanks be to Allah and Mohammed his prophet. We drove them even into the sea. Few escaped to tell the tale, and they were taken up by the houses that float upon the deep."

"'Tis a pity, brother, that more were not brought hither," remarked the stranger meditatively. "One, in truth, seems well able to do a day's work at the salt pans. As for the others, they are beardless boys. Are most of the men of the Kafir host thus?"

The Sheikh's Salt

THE Englishman looked at his sleeping comrades. The lads were slumbering deeply, too fatigued even to dream of their tribulations, which, indeed, were hardly begun. Separation was one of the worst things that might befall them, and, if possible, Reeves meant to prevent it. But how? He racked his brains to think of a plan. Scheme after scheme rapidly suggested itself, only as rapidly to be passed by as impracticable. He strove to remember what rituals the Arabs observed when they swore blood-brotherhood. He would willingly claim relationship with the lowest of the tribe, could he by so doing keep the lads with him. At last a dim recollection of bygone days, a tale he had heard in his youth, flashed across his mind. "Give me the chance," he muttered to himself, "and I'll risk it!"

Presently Hugh opened his eyes, and groaned as the pain of his thong-tied arms recalled the desperate situation in which he and his companions were placed.

Without hesitation, and as if the action was perfectly natural to him, the lad moved till his body shielded his chum's face from the now strengthening rays of the sun.

"The youngster's learning his lesson, poor chap!" thought Mr. Reeves. "I remember him at home as a selfish, unthinking little prig. Already he's beginning to think of others."

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