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: Captured at Tripoli: A Tale of Adventure by Westerman Percy F Percy Francis Sheldon Charles Mills Illustrator - Turco-Italian war 1911-1912 Juvenile fiction; Tripoli (Libya) History 20th century Juvenile fiction
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.
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