The Fight for Constantinople - Part 10
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Part 10

"All present?" asked d.i.c.k. "Any man injured?"

"All correct, sir," replied the c.o.xswain. "Two rifles are missing, but Job Trayner and Bill Symes brought the ammunition chest ash.o.r.e."

"Well done!" exclaimed Crosthwaite.

It was indeed fortunate that, even in the midst of peril when the boat struck, the two seamen had had the courage and forethought to bring ash.o.r.e the small teak case containing the small-arms ammunition; equally so that most of the men had secured their pouches, which, during their arduous efforts to gain headway, had been laid aside.

"Follow me, my lads!" said the Sub. "All being well, another half an hour will see us safely in the boats."

It was not easy going, for at every five or six yards a projecting ridge of rock had either to be skirted or surmounted--a task rendered doubly difficult by the darkness and the slippery state of the ground caused by the heavy downpour of rain.

Presently d.i.c.k came to an abrupt halt and held up his hand. The single line of men stopped, some gripping their rifles in antic.i.p.ation of an attack.

The young officer found his progress barred by a small creek or gully that extended into a ravine, and evidently received a river or stream, for there was a considerable amount of water running towards the sea.

It was imperative that this inlet should be crossed, but the Sub hesitated: not that he was loath to attempt to swim the stretch of intervening water, for already he was soaking owing to the dash through the surf. The nature of the opposite bank was the difficulty, for as far as he could make out in the darkness, the stream had worked the rocks smooth, and a ledge of stone quite five feet above the surface offered a wellnigh impa.s.sable barrier to a swimmer to draw himself clear of the water and surmount.

"I'll see what it is like, sir," volunteered Trayner. "Maybe it's not so bad as it looks."

The man lowered himself into the water and struck out. By dint of swimming obliquely upstream he contrived to gain the other side almost opposite the place where the others waited. Both up and down stream he swam for a considerable distance, till the Sub cautiously ordered him to return.

"Felt like a mouse in half a bucket of water, sir," explained Trayner.

"Sides are as smooth as a ship's sides--p'r'aps worse. I'll have another shot a little way up the creek."

"You've done enough for the present, Trayner," said d.i.c.k, noticing the strained look about the man's eyes. "Two of you work away to the left and two to the right. Return as smartly as you can, and report."

The men went off, leaving d.i.c.k and the main party literally to cool their heels by the side of the baffling gully. Presently the pair who had gone towards the opening of the creek returned with the information that there was a shallow bar where the stream joined the sea, and that it was easy to ford.

Before they had finished their report the other two reappeared.

"There's a way over about a couple of hundred yards up, sir," announced one. "There's a path on either side of this gully, and, what's more, the one on this side goes up towards the top of the cliff. Looks as If it's used a goodish bit, sir. If I might make so bold as to suggest, sir----"

"Carry on, Webb."

"There's a wholesome type o' craft lying alongside--wholesome as boats along these parts, sir. She's felucca-rigged. P'r'aps if we could cut her out----"

"It's dead to windward, and as there's a bar at the entrance we couldn't get her across in heavy weather," objected Crosthwaite.

"We'll push on, or we'll find the boats gone when we arrive at the rendezvous."

Traversing the fifty yards of rocky beach, the men reached the spot where the bar crossed the entrance. Here the danger arose of being spotted by the Turks on the cliff, for even in the darkness the milk-white foam showed up distinctly and made a bad background to the moving seamen. Yet one thing was in their favour. The attention of the troops seemed to be wholly directed upon a supposed target in the centre of the bay.

"One at a time, men; don't----"

d.i.c.k broke off as the giant beam of a powerful search-light flung its long arm athwart the bay. The Turks, well supplied by modern accessories of war, had brought up a portable search-light mounted on a motor-lorry, the wheels of which were specially adapted to traversing difficult ground.

The Sub realized that it was neck or nothing. If his party did not cross at once while the beam trying to pick up the object at which the riflemen had been firing so long, the search-light would be trained upon the beach, so that in the event of a landing being effected, the Turks could make their dispositions accordingly. On the other hand, the search-light would reveal the presence of the three boats at the rendezvous, with the result that Lieutenant Bourne would have to push off without waiting for the crew of the _Hammerer's_ whaler.

Undiscovered, the boat's crew succeeded in wading along the bar, frequently waist-deep in foam. From this point the remaining portion of the beach presented but little difficulty. There were obstructions in the shape of rocks and little streams making their way to the sea, but nothing of a serious nature. After three-quarters of an hour's smart marching the men arrived at the rendezvous on the under the lee of Bender Dagh Point.

The boats had left. d.i.c.k and his party were stranded upon a hostile sh.o.r.e.

CHAPTER VIII

A Prisoner of War

The men took their misfortune with the utmost composure. Some of them exchanged witticisms, regarding the business in the light of having gone ash.o.r.e on leave and having missed the "liberty boat". One thing they regretted was not being able to smoke, since the glimmer of a match might draw the enemy's fire; so they "stood easy" under the shelter of an overhanging rock and chewed "Navy Plug", while the Sub and the midshipman discussed the situation.

"Bourne has evidently come to the conclusion that the boat's crew have lost the number of their mess," remarked d.i.c.k. "When one comes to consider matters, it is not surprising." And he pointed to the turmoil of broken water in Yenikeui Bay. "It is just possible that the Admiral will send a destroyer to investigate as soon as it gets daylight; but the question is, how are they going to pick us up under fire?"

"We can only hang on, sir," replied Farnworth. "Perhaps the Turks will clear out at sunrise, and we will be able to see if the boat's capable of floating. Should the sea moderate, it ought to be easy."

"I don't believe in hanging on," said d.i.c.k. "I think the wind's veering. It was almost due south, now it's sou'-east. Unless I'm much mistaken it will settle down to east'ard, and the sea on the other side of the bay will go down considerably."

"And then, sir?"

"We'll collar that craft our fellows discovered in the creek. From their accounts I should imagine it to be a felucca. They're fine, weatherly craft, and with the wind abeam she ought to skip over the bar like greased lightning. I'll get the men on the move."

Under the circ.u.mstances Sub-lieutenant Crosthwaite did not believe in giving orders without explaining to the boat's crew his intentions.

Calling the men to attention, he briefly outlined his plan of operation. Were it not for the necessity for silence, the seamen would have cheered; instead, they showed by the grim expression on their faces that they would willingly follow their young officer, and trust implicitly to his good judgment.

"That's a blessing!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Farnworth as the hostile search-light was switched off. "Those fellows evidently have come to the conclusion that they've been had."

d.i.c.k was not so sanguine. It might be possible that the projector required adjustment, and the beam had to be shut off in consequence.

But after an interval of five minutes, during which time there were no signs of activity on the part of the Turks--for their rifle-fire had died away shortly after the arrival of the boat's crew at the rendezvous--he concluded that it would be fairly safe to order the party to retrace their steps.

The Sub's prognostics concerning the change of wind had become verified. It now blew directly into the faces of the party, the stinging rain adding to their discomforts. Already the small streams through which they had previously waded with the water a little above their ankles were now more than knee-deep, and momentarily increasing in volume and impetuosity.

Suddenly, while climbing over an exceptionally slippery ledge of rock, d.i.c.k's feet slipped from under him. Making a vain and frantic attempt to obtain a grip, he fell a distance of six or seven feet, his boots clattering on the stones. Before he could rise he was astounded to hear a challenge.

Twenty paces from him could be distinguished the figures of about a score of Turkish troops.

The British seamen acted promptly. They realized that now there was no going back. Over the ledge they dropped, and, as d.i.c.k regained his feet, the men waited only to fix bayonets, then with their officers charged the foe.

They were greeted by a ragged volley that did no damage, most of the bullets ringing overhead. Not caring to wait for cold steel that glittered ominously in the dim light, the Ottomans broke and fled.

As they did so they were greeted by a fusillade from others of their countrymen on the beach and from the summit of the cliff. In the succession of lurid flashes d.i.c.k's eye caught sight of a field-piece partly concealed by a breastwork of stones.

Calling for his men to empty their magazines in rapid volleys that completely deceived the enemy as to the number that opposed them, the Sub led the boat's crew to the attack.

With a rousing British cheer that outvoiced the rattle of musketry the impetuous seamen obeyed. A tough tussle, an interchange of bayonet thrusts, and the Turks momentarily melted away, leaving the field-piece in the hands of the meagre boat's crew.

"What shall we do with this 'ere gun, sir?" a stalwart bluejacket.

"Slew 'er round and give 'em a dose?"

Before the Sub could reply, the search-light flooded the scene with its dazzling rays. Almost simultaneously came the tap-tap-tap of a Maxim, and a sheaf of bullets whizzing overhead and splitting the rocks behind with fragments of nickel.