On the Road to Bagdad: A Story of Townshend's Gallant Advance on the Tigris

"What, eh?"

Geoff chuckled. It did him good to hear Philip's innocent banter, and showed him also at the same time what an excellent fellow he had to assist him.

"Make fast," he whispered. "Give a good haul on it first, though, and if it's stout enough I'll make use of it to get aboard, though I imagine by getting on your back I could easily reach the rail, and so the deck of the steamer."

A minute later they had secured the dinghy to the rope, and the wise Philip made fast the other end of it to a bolt-hole in the rudder, thus keeping their little boat right under the stern of the steamer, where she would remain unseen. Then Geoff gripped the rope which had been dangling over the rail, and, putting all his weight on it to test it, swung himself out of the dinghy and clambered up till he could grasp the rail above. One strong heave and his face was above its level, and he was able to look along the deck of the steamer. Then very slowly he clambered upward, and slid on to the deck, where he crouched under the rail to watch and listen.

Hark! There were voices somewhere. There was a light shining on the deck on either side, through what appeared to be the skylight of a cabin, while the voices, no doubt, came from that direction. But it was not that alone which Geoff had heard, it was something else – the gentle slap, slap of feet on the deck, the soft footfall of a man shod with sandals perhaps, or more likely entirely unshod, perhaps a barefooted sentry pacing the deck to and fro, turning when he had accomplished a dozen paces. Geoff peered into the darkness, hoping to see the man, but failed, though the sounds were still quite audible. Then he stole forward till quite close to the cabin's skylight, where he hid behind a mast in a dark corner between it and the bulkhead of the cabin. Yes, the sounds made by that sentry – for if not a sentry what else could he be? – were clearly audible, while the figure now came into view, feebly outlined it is true yet quite sufficient for Geoff's purpose. There was a Turk, perhaps a Turkish sailor, striding to and fro some twenty yards farther forward, turning about each time he reached the rail, striding this way and that like an automaton – as if indeed he were a clockwork figure.

"Rather too near to be pleasant," thought Geoff, "and the bother of it is that he makes it difficult for a fellow to peer into the cabin. Ah! one of these sky-lights is lifted. It's been a hot day, and I've no doubt it's stuffy down in the cabin. That's really very considerate of our friend, the Captain, as Phil would say. Yes, voices – Turkish voices – let's see what's happening."

He went on all fours, and stole along beside the cabin's skylight till he came to the panel which was lifted. There was an opening, perhaps some six inches in width, through which the light was streaming, and also the voices of two men, at least, down in the cabin. But six inches is hardly sufficient space to admit a head, and Geoff at once increased the size of the opening by lifting the panel.

"Stop, there! Enough! It's cool enough below!" he heard someone exclaim an instant later. "Idiot, leave the thing as it is now, and wait next time till you are told to make an alteration."

By then Geoff was flat on the deck, listening to the voice so near to him, and watching that sentry, that automaton, as he moved to and fro; watching him and hoping that he would take no notice. Indeed, he need hardly have worried himself, for the man did not even deign to turn his head, but strolled on across his beat, his rifle now visible as it thrust upward above his shoulder. For the life of him Geoff could not help chuckling again, and repeating the words which Philip had used but a few minutes earlier.

"A most accommodating sentry," he said. "If only he'll continue to march to and fro without looking this way it'll give me a chance of peeping into the cabin. Here goes! Oh! Three of 'em, eh! All officers, and, by George, the chief of 'em is bald-headed, or I'm a Dutchman!"

How Philip would have laughed had he been beside his chum and recollected their conversation aboard the steam-launch, for as Geoff peered down into the cabin, his head screened to a certain extent from the view of those below by the supports of the skylight, and by the swinging oil-lamp which illuminated the interior, his eyes fell upon three individuals – three Turkish officers – one of whom sat back in a chair in the most dilettante attitude, smoking a cigarette; a young man without doubt, handsome as the Turks go, but decidedly effeminate. Near him was another officer, rather older, with a handsomely curled moustache, who leaned both elbows on the cabin table and seemed to be already nodding. And opposite the two, lounging full length on a divan, was a stout broad-shouldered Pasha, a senior Turkish officer, whose fez now reposed on the floor, exposing a head which shone and glistened in the rays of the lamp-light. As to his being toothless, that was another matter, though the memory of what had passed between himself and Philip, once again caused Geoff to give vent to a silent chuckle.

"And so you think, my dear comrade, that this firing on the part of the crew of the steam-launch resulted in the annihilation of a party of the British, eh?" the elderly Turkish officer was asking, whilst he waved a big, fat hand, upon which glistened many rings, in the direction of the young officer at the head of the table.

"I do. To-morrow they will return with a fine tale of their doings. You will discover, my chief, that you have been the means of stopping a reconnoitring-force of the enemy ascending the Euphrates. It will be good for you, good for me, good for us all."

They lapsed into silence for a while and then started on some other topic. Indeed, though Geoff listened for the better part of quarter of an hour, not once did they broach the subject of Turkish troops, nor that of their position in these marsh lands about the Euphrates. It was clear, in fact, that to stay where he was, risking discovery at any moment, on the chance of such a question rising between the Turkish officers below him, was madness, and that some other scheme must be adopted to get at the information which he and Philip coveted. Lowering his head, therefore, and making sure that the sentry had not discerned him, Geoff crept on all fours across the deck, and, clambering over the rail, dropped gently into the boat. And there for a while he and his chum discussed the matter in low tones, making their plans so as to accomplish their purpose.

It was half an hour later when Geoff led the way up over the rail again, followed by Philip, and the two crept for'ard along the deck of the steamer.

"There's the cabin," whispered Geoff, pointing to the skylight, "and down below is the old boy we're bent on capturing. Just creep along and look in, then come back at once, for we've no time to waste, and must complete the business."

CHAPTER X
Geoff and Philip manœuvre

"Lor', Geoff, you didn't tell me, you didn't say a word about it!" gasped, rather than whispered, the excited Philip, as he crawled back to our hero's side, having sprawled along the deck of the steamer and peeped into the cabin wherein were those three Turkish officers, the possession of one of whom the two young British officers so eagerly coveted. "What d'you mean by it?"

"Mean by it! By what? Shut up, you idiot, or that sentry will hear us!"

"Hang the sentry!" came the whispered answer, as Philip lay down beside his chum and close under the rail of the vessel. "But, I say, what a joke! Just fancy our guessing so exactly. He's as old as they make 'em, the chap who commands this ship – an old, fat, and bloated bounder – and, Christopher! he's bald and as toothless as a baby."

The fellow actually cackled, till Geoff pounced upon him and closed his mouth with his hand.

"Shut up, you fool!" he exclaimed, in a fierce whisper. "You'll have every man aboard the ship upon us and will wreck our chances. I begin to wish that I hadn't brought you with me; but I thought that at least you had some sort of sense."

Philip sniggered. He knew that Geoff didn't really mean to be so fierce as he made out, or even so vindictive, and, after all, there seemed little chance of the sentry suspecting their presence or overhearing them. For, in the first place, though farther away amidst the marshes, an almost complete silence covered the waste of waters – broken only by the faint whisper of the evening breeze as it rustled amongst the reeds of the thousands of muddy islands – out here, in the centre of the stream, there was the swish and swirl of water as it flowed past the steel sides of the vessel, the lap of the current, and the whistle of the breeze as it swayed the cordage to and fro and hummed a gentle tune round the funnel, the steam whistle, and the other contrivances hampering the deck of the steamer. And, secondly, there was the sentry himself, a mere doll he seemed, an automaton – as Geoff had thought – a man who marched barefooted, to and fro, to and fro, backwards and forwards from one rail of the vessel to the other, never appearing to turn his head, never shifting the rifle which rested across one shoulder, apparently deaf to sounds, and oblivious to all that was taking place about him. Not that much could be said to be within his vision, for, be it remembered, darkness lay over the Euphrates and the adjacent marshes – darkness made a little less intense by that crescent of the moon which floated in the heavens, by the million brilliant stars with which they were peppered, and, to a lesser degree, in one particular part, by the feeble rays which struggled through the skylight of the cabin and fell gently on the deck of the vessel.

Still, too much cackling on the part of the jovial Philip might easily have been fatal; and, besides, it was not a time for expressing one's feelings, for ribald laughter, or even for jests, and certainly one would have thought that even the recklessness of a junior British officer would have been suppressed by the occasion. Philip checked himself with a gulp. He was thinking of that bald head down below, and of the extraordinarily good guess which he and his chum had made as to the appearance of the Commander of this boat long before they had set eyes on him. Then, suddenly, the question of his capture filled his mind, to the obliteration of everything else.

"A big bounder!" he told Geoff. "It'll want some doing. How?"

Geoff gave vent to a subdued whistle, a mere puff of air from his lips, and then he nudged his comrade.

"See that sentry over there?" he asked abruptly.

"Faintly. Not having quite the eyes of a cat, I can't say that I see him distinctly. What of him?"

"Of him? Nothing. But you'll take his place within a minute."

"Oh!" Philip exclaimed, and stared through the darkness at his chum. "Take his place in a minute? Certainly!" he said. "But – er – supposing he objects?"

"That's his business," said Geoff, "and ours too, of course. I shall ask him in the politest way possible to step below; or, to be more precise, I propose now to march up to him as if I were one of those three officers down below in the cabin. If he doesn't obey the order I give him – "

"That's our business," said Phil, and he chuckled again. "I've got the whole scheme, Geoff, and you can fire ahead at once. I shall come along quite close behind you, and if the fellow wants to kick up a row, or doesn't like taking orders from a superior officer, I'll knock him overboard. You can leave that part of the business to me. I'm just itching to tackle a Turk, and to start the campaign in real earnest."

"Then come along!" Geoff told him. "We'll creep along as far as the cabin, and peep in to make sure that those fellows below are not likely to be moving, and then I'll go for'ard and accost the sentry. Come along!"

The two of them were already on their knees, crouching below the rail of the vessel, and at once crept forward till they were level with the cabin; then, peering in, Geoff made out the figures of the three officers below, still in the same positions they had occupied before – the fat, bald-headed man, undoubtedly the senior of the party, nodding on the divan, while the officer at the head of the table still smoked and still prattled to his neighbour. Then he nudged Philip, and, passing behind the skylight, stood at his full height, and stepped quickly along the deck towards the sentry, who still marched to and fro, to and fro, apparently without hearing his approach, as he paid no attention to it. Indeed, Geoff was within five yards of him before the man suddenly turned his head and noticed his coming, and just as suddenly came to a halt and grounded his weapon.

"Who goes there?" he challenged, in quite low tones, and it was evident that he was not in the least concerned by Geoff's appearance.

Indeed, he had been anticipating the exit of one officer, at least, from the cabin, where he knew that his betters were smoking and chatting, and no doubt the figure now coming towards him was one of them. Nor was Geoff in the least disconcerted; for, thanks to the dress he wore, to the fez which was perched on his head, and to his command of the language, he felt no doubt of being able to deceive the fellow.

"Officer, going rounds," he answered to the challenge. "Dismiss, my man, and go to your quarters; the Commander feels that there is no need of a sentry while we lie right out here in the river, and, that being the case, there is no need for you to spoil a night's rest. Get down with you!"

The man shouldered his rifle at once and turned as if to obey the order, and then, of a sudden, he swung round again, as if an idea had struck him, or as if he were suspicious. Indeed, there was something which had attracted his attention, a dark, shadowy something which his eyes, hitherto seemingly so useless to him, had discovered following the officer who had just given him the order. It was the dark shadow of a man, creeping along close to the rail of the ship, as if prepared to spring upon the back of the officer.

"Beware!" he cried. "There is a man behind you, one who sneaks along in the shadows."

That shadow launched itself from beside the rail while the man was shifting his rifle from his left to his right hand, and something flew through the air and hit the sentry so heavily in the face that he stumbled backwards. Then the officer who had given him the order was on the unfortunate man like a whirlwind, and the shadow beside him.

"I've got my hand over his mouth," gasped Philip. "To the side with him; now heave!"

Geoff backed his chum up with a vengeance, gripping the man's hands and tearing his rifle from him. Then, seizing him by the legs, while Philip managed to grip the man's shoulder, still holding his mouth firmly closed, the two rushed him to the side and flung him over into the river, Geoff tossing his rifle into the water after him.

"Now back," he whispered to Philip, taking him by the sleeve of his coat, "the chap is sure to shout and alarm the others. Let's get back and down to our dinghy till things quiet down again. Of course, if he doesn't shout, all the better, for then we shall be able to tackle the other business."

Even before they could turn to run along the deck, the splash which the man's body had made as it fell into the water was followed by a shriek, and then by a hoarse shout as he sang out loudly for help, by a shout which stirred the silence hanging over the river, and brought the men bobbing up from their quarters for'ard, and those three officers stumbling up the steps of their cabin and out on to the deck. And in that short space of time Philip and Geoff had stolen aft, and, slipping over the rail, had slid down into the dinghy.

"Quite a little commotion!" laughed Geoff as he listened to the shouts above him. "Of course I'm sorry for the sentry."

"Rather a dirty game, eh?" said Philip. "But I suppose all's fair in war, eh, Geoff? And besides, supposing I had been the sentry, and you'd come along and chucked me overboard, I should naturally enough howl out so as to give the alarm and to ask for assistance; but I shouldn't be dead, not by a long chalk, and, seeing that I can swim, I should do my best to keep myself afloat till the river twisted and deposited me on one of the banks. If that sentry's sensible, that's what he'll do; on the other hand, if he can't swim – which is hard lines, of course, but not our fault, and a matter we can't deal with – of course, there it is, he'll drown, and neither of us can help it. The best we can do is to wish him luck, for he's now out of the way and not likely to harm us."

Meanwhile there was pandemonium on the deck of the vessel, shouts and cries coming to the two young officers in the dinghy, shouts and cries which were drowned by the stentorian voice of one of the officers, undoubtedly the bald-headed individual who was senior of the party.

"What's that? What's happened?" he bellowed. "Someone shouted, and I'm sure I heard a splash in the river. Where's the sentry? Pass him aft here so that he can report on the incident."

But of the sentry there was not a sign, though a faint shout coming from farther down the river, whither the unfortunate fellow had now floated, was sufficient evidence of the cause of that splash which the Commander had heard, and explanation of the absence of the sentry.

"Deserter!" cried one of the officers, seizing upon the first idea which came to him.

"Who dives into the river and risks drowning? A wise suggestion indeed!" the irate voice of the Commander answered. "But if not, how comes he to have fallen into the river. Foul play, eh? One of his comrades with a grudge against him, a sneaking hound who has crept up from the quarters for'ard and has suddenly pounced upon him?"

"More than likely!" came the answer. "More than likely!"

There was silence for a while, and then the tread of boots on the deck just above the stern beneath which the dinghy was lying.

"It's a strange thing this disappearance of the sentry," Geoff heard a voice saying – the voice of the Commander. "But there it is, and one man more or less makes no difference."

There followed a loud guffaw which made Geoff wince, so heartless did it sound, and in a moment he recognized the voice of that young and elegant Turkish officer who had sat at the end of the cabin table, smoking lazily and curling his dark moustache.

"The sort of sentiments he would give utterance to," he told himself. "It's the kind of thing a fellow hates to hear, and though I was instrumental in pushing that poor beggar overboard, yet I am at least sorry for him, and hope that he will have escaped drowning, and will have landed safely on the bank of the river. And here's one of his own officers laughing as though it didn't matter how many men were lost. Beastly!"

"Eh?" asked Philip in a whisper. "What's that? Listen to those fellows up there!"

For a few moments there had been silence above their heads, where they knew now that at least two of the three officers were standing, and the breeze wafted down to them the smell of tobacco smoke. They heard the boots of the Turkish officers scraping on the deck, and a louder sound as one of them rested his foot on the rail of the vessel. Then the voice of the elder man came to their ears again.

"Yes, there are plenty of them, and one more or less makes no difference," he told his comrade carelessly, and then puffed heavily at the cigar he was smoking – so heavily, indeed, that Geoff could hear him. "Well, well!" he continued; "it's a peaceful night for drowning, my comrade, a peaceful night! See, there's the moon above us, and stars, while the water trickles away below our keel in the most delicious and refreshing manner. A cool night after a hot day, and a sweet breeze to blow away the smell of the marshes. But there, it is nearly time to turn in; go to your bunk, my friend, for I have a mind to sit here and finish my cigar in peace and quietness."

He interrupted the younger officer in the midst of a loud and noisy yawn, and there came the heavy fall of a foot upon the deck, which made it appear that it was the younger man who had placed his foot upon the rail of the vessel. Then something fell beside the dinghy, and hissed for a moment as it struck the water – the stump end of the cigar which this young elegant had been smoking.

"A fine night, and a cool one, as you say, Commander," he said languidly, stifling another yawn, "and time for all of us to be in bed. But I know your ways; you are one of those who burn the candle at both ends, who sit up till the dawn is breaking, and tumble into your bunk only to appear again as the sun is rising. Good-night, Commander!"

From the sharp sounds above, it appeared that he must have drawn himself up at attention and clicked his heels. Then there was a short pause, and immediately afterwards the sound of his retreating feet as he went along the deck towards his cabin, and Geoff and Philip, listening down below, heard him descend the companion-way, somewhere farther forward, and later the sharp crash of a cabin-door being closed. Then there came to their ears the softer patter of feet just above their heads, as the stout Commander of this Turkish steamer strolled to and fro on the stern of the vessel; and again also the aroma from his cigar was wafted down to them on the midnight breeze. Philip gripped Geoff's shoulder and shook his chum.

"Hist!" he said; "you hear the old bounder?"

"Of course. All alone! Smoking a reflective cigar. Now, if – "

"Just if," Philip told him. "If – of course we could, only it'll want some careful doing."

"What will?" demanded Geoff, though the same thought had struck them both, and was passing through their minds.

"Why, if we managed to shy that sentry overboard, and so got rid of him, why not do the same for the old buffer up above us; he'd be over the rail in next to no time, and would be only too glad to find a boat near at hand to rescue him. Look here, Geoff! I've a little plan that's worth considering."

"H – h – sh! He's stopped!" declared Geoff, his voice sunk to a whisper, and his lips close to Philip's ear: "Wonder whether he suspects our presence?"

The steps above them had indeed stopped suddenly, though the aroma of the cigar the Turkish officer was smoking was still wafted down to that space beneath the stern where Geoff and Philip were hiding. They heard a cough, a gentle cough, as the Turk cleared his throat, and later the sound of whistling, while within a minute the man began to pace to and fro again, very slowly, very languidly, as if there was no haste and no hurry, and the Commander was enjoying his little solitary tramp and the peace and quietness of his surroundings.

"Go on," said Geoff; "what's the plan? We kidnap the beggar, of course – that's the plan we set out with this evening. I can see farther than that naturally enough; for, as you've hinted already, we shy him overboard, and then come to his rescue. Now?"

"There'll be a tremendous row and ruction," Philip told him. "The new sentry that they've posted for'ard will give the alarm, and, once it's found out that the Commander's disappeared, every man aboard will be turned out, and if they've got boats, as is most likely the case, for we saw a number trailing behind this steamer, they'll man them and row about in order to try to find the beggar. Now suppose we counter that move?"

"Yes?" asked Geoff eagerly, for he realized the truth of Philip's statement, and could see that, whereas the loss of a humble sentry had caused no great commotion, that of the Commander of the vessel might very well lead to a general alarm, to the disturbance of the whole ship's company, and to a frantic search in which they might easily be discovered. "Yes?" he asked again impatiently.

"That's where my extra little plan comes in," said Philip, and the young fellow chuckled, whereat Geoff gripped his wrist savagely, and shook it.

"Shut up!" he said; "the fellow's only just above our heads, and might easily hear you. Idiot!"

"Thanks!" giggled Philip. "But really, if it comes off, it will be tremendously funny. Now here's the plan: I hop into the water just here, and swim up alongside the steamer, and when I get to her bows, I clamber aboard somehow. We all know that she's anchored in mid-stream, and I'm pretty well sure, from the sounds which came when she dropped her anchor, that she's moored by a hawser. A chain would have clanked out over the side, and we should have heard it, whereas there was a sharp splash and nothing followed. See the point, eh?" he asked eagerly. "She's moored by a rope, and I have a knife here that would cut through a ship's cable."

It was Geoff's turn to exclaim, a smothered exclamation, while he gripped Philip's arm again with fingers which were like a vice.

"Fine!" he told him in a whisper. "And then? You've cut the cable, you've set the ship free, and of course she floats down the stream without any of them being the wiser. The chances are she'll be washed about three or four or more hundred yards before the crew know what's happened, and then it'll only be because she strikes ground, and comes to a stop on a sand-bank farther down the stream. But – but, won't it rather throw us out of our bearings. Just remember that it's pitch-dark in the marshes, and that we've got to find our way back to the steam-launch. It'll want some doing in any case, I can tell you, and if we once get off our bearings it'll be almost an impossibility. But what follows when you've cut the cable?"

"What you'd expect," Philip told him with glee. "I'm on the ship, and I've set her loose, and for the matter of that I should saw through the hawser till it's not quite parted, and leave the stream and the weight of the vessel to do the rest; then I slip aft, and if I find that it's out of the question to pass the sentry, I drop overboard again, and float down beside her till I am nearer the stern; then I clamber to her deck again, crawl right aft, and give that old chap above us a punch that will topple him right over."

It was Geoff's turn to giggle. For the life of him he could not help smiling and chuckling, and indeed found it hard to prevent himself from laughing outright. The gusto with which Philip outlined his plan, his tremendous eagerness and enthusiasm, and the glee in his tone – whispered though it was – were simply infectious. It was only by clapping a hand over his mouth, and gripping Philip's wrist so firmly that that young fellow expostulated by shaking the grip off violently, that Geoff could master his feelings.

"Tremendous!" he told his chum. "And if it doesn't succeed, well it – er – ought to."

"Then, right oh! I'll leave my tunic and revolver here, and go in my shirt and breeches. Boots ain't wanted for swimming either, so I'll take these off. Listen to the old beggar whistling!"

As the young British officer rapidly divested himself of his coat, and of his boots and puttees, he could hear the Turkish Commander still sauntering to and fro on the deck above, every now and again whistling gently and cheerfully. That he was still smoking also there was no doubt, for occasionally the whiff of his cigar was swept down towards the dinghy.

"And a ripping good cigar, believe me," whispered Philip, "and an awful shame to deprive him of its enjoyment, and to waste it before it's quite finished. But war, don't you know, Geoff, is no respecter of things and circumstances and people. The old bounder above will suffer for the cause – our cause, I mean – for we jolly well mean to have him."

What a thing it was to have as a companion in such a critical adventure a young fellow gifted with such splendid spirits, with so light a heart that all thought of danger slipped from his shoulders. Not that Geoff himself was the one to consider risks in the midst of such an undertaking, or even before setting out for the venture; though, to be sure, like every other young officer, he had his serious times, and, as they had paddled their way towards the steamer, had wondered what would happen, whether they would meet with success or dismal failure, and whether capture or death would be the result of their visit. But long ago he had thrown off all doubts, and was ready and eager to face anything – a readiness made all the more pronounced by the encouragement he received from Philip.

"You are simply splendid, Phil, old boy," he told him enthusiastically, and still in the lowest of low whispers. "Of course I'll back you up through thick and thin. I'll wait till I hear the old boy plump overboard, and have the dinghy already cast loose, and ready to push off into the river. Hauling him aboard will be no easy matter, but it's got to be done, and without capsizing the dinghy. Then you'll have to join us, though the combined weight of the three will almost sink this cockle-shell. Still, it's the smallest of our adventures, and once we are all aboard we'll have got through with the greater part of the business. Ready?" he asked.

"Aye! Ready!" said Philip in the most careless manner possible.

Stretching his hand overhead, he caught the rope to which the dinghy was made fast and put his full weight on it. Then he lifted himself out of the dinghy, and very slowly and gingerly lowered himself into the water, making not so much as a splash in doing so. A vigorous stroke with his legs took him as far as the rudder of the steamer, and for a moment his fingers played about it; then, gripping the bilge keel which ran round the side of the steamer, and against which the water lapped continually, he pulled himself forward up-stream, finding but little difficulty in carrying out his purpose. It took him perhaps five minutes to reach the bows of the vessel – five solid minutes, during which he had to stop on two occasions, the first to allow the Commander of the vessel to tramp to the opposite side, and the second for the same reason when he came opposite the beat of the sentry. Then his fingers lit upon the stem-post, and, pulling himself up out of the water, he reached for the rail, only to find that it was a foot or more above him, and quite out of his reach, in spite of all his efforts. But Phil was not the sort of British officer to give way easily, or to allow himself to be lightly beaten. Indeed, there are few of them of whom this cannot be said; for a more resourceful, more gallant, and a more dashing set of young men no country has ever possessed, and no finer set of young fellows have ever obeyed the national call to duty.