CHAPTER TWELVE.
CLOSE PRISONERS.
It was a wearisome time that Phil and his friend spent in prison.Confined in a huge stone building, they passed the greater part of theday in a court-yard open to the sky. Here they discussed with theircomrades every possible means of escape, but they could hit on no planthat was likely to be successful. The windows were small and heavilybarred, sentries with loaded weapons stood all round the walls of thecourt-yard, and at night occupied a room commanding the prison, beingseparated from it by a wall perforated for rifle fire.
"Don't worry, Tony, old chap," said Phil one day, seeing that his friendwas becoming despondent. "Our chance will come yet, and we shall getaway. If we don't, the Allies may take the place by storm and set usfree. After all, we have little to complain of, for our quarters aremoderately comfortable, and our food, though plain, is plentiful."
"Right yer are, Phil! I'll cheer up," answered Tony brightly. "When Icomes to think of it, we ain't got much to grumble at. Think of thempoor chaps as had arms and legs blown off at the Alma--we're far betteroff than they. But I expects this being caged up ain't for long, andany day the army will be breaking in, as you say, and setting us free."
And indeed, had the prisoners but known it, the Allies were hard at workpreparing to take the fortress and town. To do so from the north was,as has already been said, impossible, for the harbour was far too broadto allow of an effective bombardment, and, moreover, its northern shorewas commanded by heavy batteries. Therefore, as we have seen, theAllies marched to the Chersonese heights, the British left resting uponBalaclava, while the French lay to our right. Opposite them was thesouthern face of Sebastopol, up till then undefended by very formidableworks, though the plan of defences had long ago been sketched andpartially executed. But no sooner was the object of the allied armydiscovered than hordes of Russians quickly transformed this side of thefortress, throwing up powerful earthworks, and arming them with gunsdrawn from the inexhaustible arsenals at the dockyard. And while theyslaved, the British and French planned their own earthworks, and setfatigue-parties to work. By October 16th they were completed, and aftera council of war, in which naval as well as military officers took part,it was decided that the bombardment should commence on the morrow, thebatteries on the Chersonese heights doing their utmost to reduce theworks in front of them, while the ships engaged the forts on thesea-face to distract attention. The cannonade was to be followed by ageneral assault.
A moment's reflection will show the reader that nothing could have beenwiser than a preliminary battering with cannon-shot, followed by anassault; but how the ships could have aided in one or the other it isdifficult to understand. As the forts were placed on elevated plateaux,and in some cases on the cliffs, an assault by means of landing-partieswas out of the question. Therefore the Russian commander would not, anddid not, trouble to garrison them with infantry, but merely assuredtheir having a sufficiency of gunners to replace possible casualties.Then again, compared with a heavily-armed stone fort, what is a woodenship? It was a hopeless and a foolish undertaking, and it is notsurprising that the allied fleet retired, having done little damage,although they had suffered severely themselves.
On shore things were perhaps a little more satisfactory. Three starshells fired from Mount Rudolph, the French battery, gave the signal forthe bombardment at an early hour on October 17th, and from that momentfor four awful hours the Allies' combined 126 heavy guns poured a hailof shell into the Russian defences. These consisted of outworks and ofvarious forts of formidable power known as the Flagstaff Bastion, theMalakoff, and the Redan, the whole armed with 118 guns, not to mention athousand and more of lighter casting to be used in case of assault.
But for an untoward event Sebastopol might have fallen on that very day,and the Crimea as a campaign have sunk into comparative historicalinsignificance. After four hours' firing a shell unluckily struck themagazine of Mount Rudolph, and with a roar which shook the surroundingcamp the battery was destroyed. The French fire at once ceased, and wasnot renewed for two days. As for the British, they battered theMalakoff, reducing the stone-work to ruin, and silenced its guns. Soonafterwards the magazine of the Redan exploded, and though our fire stillcontinued furiously, it was answered only feebly and at intervals,showing that the enemy too had suffered heavily like the French.
And now let us consider, before returning to Phil and his comrades, whyan assault was not delivered either at once, or on the followingmorning. But for the calamity to the French this would have occurred;owing, however, to the destruction of their chief battery, and theconsequent failure to destroy the defences in front of them, assaultbecame almost impracticable, while now that they were to some extentdemoralised, it was utterly hopeless. Also it must be borne in mindthat the force in Sebastopol was greatly superior in numbers to theAllies, while an attack in rear by the Russian army in the field wasalways to be dreaded, and, as will be seen, was not long in actuallyoccurring. As to an assault on the following day, dawn showed that itwas useless to attempt it, for the brave and energetic enemy had alreadyreconstructed the defences, and made good all the damage that had beendone.
Almost a whole month had passed from the date of their incarceration,when one morning the prisoners in Sebastopol were awakened by a roar ofexploding artillery.
"What's that?" asked Phil, starting up suddenly and throwing off hisblanket. "Listen, you fellows! Yes, there it goes again. That bangingis the Russian artillery. Wait a minute and we shall hear our own atwork."
A moment later a distant, muttering growl told them that the Allies wereanswering the fire, while, had there been any doubt, a peculiar shriekoverhead, which all had heard before, and the fall of a wall close athand, told them that a shell from the far-off guns had found a mark.
"Blow me!" exclaimed Tony excitedly. "Supposing one of them shellsfound its way in here!"
"What, yer ain't afraid!" jeered a big rifleman who was amongst theprisoners. "You 'as helped to save the colours, too!"
"Afraid! Booby! I'll punch yer head if yer don't mind what yersaying," retorted Tony hotly. "It ain't that I was thinking of, but oftrying to get out of this. Supposing a hole got knocked in the wall,couldn't we chaps climb through it, and shy bricks at the sentries.Then we'd make a rush for it. You may bet all these Russian soldiersare busy in the forts."
A grunt of assent went round the gathered prisoners, and far from beingnervous or anxious lest a shell should knock the house about their ears,they sat there longing to hear the crash and make a dash for liberty.
That such an eventuality might occur had evidently struck the Russians,for that night the doors of the prison were thrown open, and theprisoners ordered out with their blankets. Then they were marched undera strong guard to the harbour and ferried across.
"Where do we go?" Phil asked the soldier who sat in the boat by hisside.
"That you will see," was the gruff reply. "But you leave the Crimea atonce, and I do not envy you your long march. It is fine weather now,but as you get north you will meet the rains and cold winds, and youwill wish yourself back in Sebastopol."
Arrived on the northern bank of the harbour, the prisoners were groupedtogether, and a meal of hot coffee and bread given them. Then they setout, two ranks of armed guards marching on either side, while sometwenty fierce-looking Cossacks hovered here and there, only too readyand willing to transfix any man sufficiently foolhardy to attempt anescape.
"This won't do," muttered Phil, whose wits had been at work. "It won'tdo," he repeated almost unconsciously.
"What won't?" asked Tony brusquely. "It ain't over nice, I know, but Ican't see that anything's extra wrong."
"Where do you think we are marching to, Tony?" asked Phil. "You don'tknow. Then I'll tell you. We are going due north, out of the Crimeaand into some part of the Russian interior. Once there, what chanceshall we have of ever getting back?"
"There you puzzle me, Phil," Tony answered, scratching his
head. "Isuppose it's a long way off."
"Yes, a long way, Tony; but that is not the difficulty. The weather ison the point of changing, and soon we shall have rain and snow. We mustget away within the next few days or not at all, so keep your eyes openfor the first chance that comes along."
"Trust me, mate," whispered Tony, unconsciously dropping his voice. "Idon't want to spend the next year or so in a Russian prison. A month'sbeen enough for me. But it'll be a job to get away from these fellows:and what shall we do for food once we are free?"
"That we must chance, Tony. The main thing is to get safely away, and,of course, we must make the attempt when it is dark. To-night ourguards, knowing we are close to the allied camp, will be extra watchful,but a couple of nights later, when we are well on the way, and theRussian field-army is between us and our friends, they are certain tobecome slack and careless about keeping a watch. That will be our time,and we must make the best of it. There are plenty of small farmhousesscattered about this part of the Crimea, for it is famous for itsvineyards, and if the worst comes to the worst, we must break into oneand obtain food in that way. In any case there are grapes to be had inabundance."
Having agreed that it was useless to attempt an escape for two days ormore, and that it was unnecessary to inform their comrades of theirintentions--for where two might chance to slip away, it was hopeless forfifty or more to make the attempt,--Phil and Tony marched on stolidly.Amongst the prisoners were Riflemen, Guards, and Highlanders, someslightly wounded, and all more or less in a tattered and forlorncondition, for head-gear had been for the most part lost, and the brightred of tunics had long ago been dulled by lying on the dirt and mud.
That night they pressed on, and halted only when the field-army wasreached. Then they bivouacked and waited till the following day, whenthe march was resumed in a leisurely manner, the guards, however, stillkeeping careful watch over their prisoners, while the fierce andrestless Cossacks rode their shaggy ponies on either flank and kept ascowling eye on the captives.
Phil and Tony saved some portion of their meal of bread daily, crammingit into their pockets. But it was not till the third night that theydared to attempt an escape.
"Keep an eye on those Cossack fellows as we bivouack, Tony," said Philin an undertone, as the column came to a halt. "They are the ones wehave most to fear. Up to this, I notice that half of them have nightlygone out as pickets, ready to cut off any escape, while the others havecamped alongside us. If only we can see the positions the outposts takeup, and get away from here without rousing an alarm, we ought to be ableto hide up in some vineyard."
Lying down on the ground, as if tired out, the two watched eagerly, andcarefully noted the position of the Cossacks. Riding some three hundredyards from their comrades, each of these wiry horsemen leapt from hispony, removed the bit and slipped it under its jaw, and left it therewith the reins on the neck, so that in a few moments it could bereplaced. Girths were then loosened, and while the animal cropped thegrass its watchful master trudged backwards and forwards, lance in hand,and with his face always turned towards the distant camp.
"Sebastopol lies over there," said Phil, nodding in the direction theyhad come, "and we must make a bolt for it some other way. The outpostsare certain to be more vigilant behind us. Look at that fellow overthere on our right. I have had my eye on him these last two days; he isevidently lazy and careless of his duties, especially now that noCossack officer is with the horsemen guarding us."
Tony glanced in the direction indicated, and noted that the man Phil hadcalled his attention to was standing by his pony's side, with one elbowresting on the saddle, and his head on his hand, as if already asleep.
"Yes, that's the beggar for us, Phil," he whispered. "If we crawl overthere we ought to be able to slip by him unawares. To-night will befairly light--just sufficient for us to spot him at twenty yards,--andonce we know where he is, it won't be much of a job to slip between himand the next."
At dusk a meal was served, and having eaten their portion, Phil and Tonythrew themselves down upon a blanket, and spread the second over them,for the nights were already chilly, and they had discovered that withonly one blanket apiece greater warmth and comfort could be obtained inthis way.
"It won't do to fall asleep now," whispered Phil. "We have had a tiringuphill march, and are both in need of a snooze and inclined to take it.Let us talk about something interesting, so as to keep awake."
Tony yawned loudly and rubbed his eyes.
"I was precious near off then," he answered. "Tell yer what, Phil,teach me a few words of this Russian lingo. That'll wake me up."
Accordingly Phil commenced with the simpler words, and when Tony hadheard and repeated as many as he was likely to remember, they commencedto chat about their life in the menagerie, taking care only to whisper,and keeping a vigilant watch upon the sentries close at hand.
"We must clear out of this about an hour before midnight," whisperedPhil. "The sentries are changed at twelve o'clock, and the Cossackoutposts too. If we wait till then they are all sure to be wide-awakein expectation of relief, and after midnight there will be little chanceof slipping past the fresh ones. As it is, I see it will be a far moredifficult job than we had imagined."
"That's so," grunted Tony, staring at the nearest sentry. "In course ifwe could get alongside that feller we could double him up like a ragbefore he'd got time to shout, and I doubt that the ones on either sidecan see him. But I fear it would be a failure. We'd never be able toget close enough to smash him before he pulled his trigger."
"I have it, Tony," whispered Phil after a few minutes' silence, duringwhich he cudgelled his brains for a means of escape. "We should neverget away together, for where one might slip through two would be certainto be discovered. Fortunately many of our comrades are still movingabout or sitting up talking, so that my little scheme has a chance ofworking. Tony, we must have a row and separate."
"Have a row, Phil? That we don't, while I can help it!" exclaimed Tonyhotly.
"Not a real one, Tony," answered Phil, with a smothered laugh. "We mustpretend. Listen. It now wants two hours before we must make ourattempt, and we must do our best to judge that time pretty nearly. Nodoubt the sentry has noticed that we have been lying quietly as ifasleep, for he has passed close by us several times. Let us peep out,and wait till he is near again, then you must roll over and pull theblanket from me as if in your sleep. The movement is certain to attracthis attention. I will then start up and tear the blanket away from you,and after that we can easily come to words and almost to blows. Nodoubt the sentry will watch us and enjoy our quarrel, and as soon as wehave made sufficient noise, I will get up in a regular huff, pull myblanket from you, and go to the other end of the camp. Two hours laterI shall do my best to creep between the sentries, and once through Iwill imitate the whinny of a horse. The men on guard will think itcomes from one of the Cossack ponies, and are not likely to stir, whileyou, knowing it is my signal, will take the first chance of slippingthrough and joining me."
A suppressed chuckle burst from Tony's lips, and the blanket shook as heattempted to smother his amusement and delight.
"Phil, you're a good 'un," he stuttered. "Yer fairly walk away with it.Blest if yer ain't the smartest chap I ever see! There ain't nothingmore to be said. It's bound to work is that there scheme, so the soonerwe has that row the better. But--look here, old man, how do we join oneanother out there in the dark?"
"That I was just going to mention, Tony. Once through, crawl on for ahundred yards, and then sit down. You must take care to go straight toyour front. I am going to lie down over there on the right, and I shallknow you are on the left. I shall give you a quarter of an hour to getthrough, and then I shall crawl over in your direction. If after a goodsearch I fail to find you I will give another whinny, and you must crawlup to me. Now is everything clear?"
"Everything, mate," answered Tony, with evident delight. "We just playsthis little game,
and then I waits for the signal. Once through, therecomes that Cossack chap, and if he so much as flickers an eyelid, bustme if I don't smash him like an egg. Now, mate, give us yer flipper,cos, yer know, things might go wrong, and I specks those Russian coveshave a nasty way of shooting if they spots a fellow giving them theslip."
Phil stretched out his hand, and meeting Tony's, gave it a cordial grip.Then for some ten minutes the two lay still, Tony snoring heavily,while the sentry passed them twice on his beat, humming a tune as he didso. Close at hand were the other prisoners, some asleep, while otherssat up round a fire smoking a last pipe.
"Now, here goes," whispered Tony, and with a loud snort he rolled overon his opposite side, clutching the blanket and dragging it from Phil.
The action was beautifully timed, for the sentry was just opposite themand within a few paces, and halted to see what would happen.
Phil awoke suddenly, sat up, and shivered. Then he felt for the blanketas if expecting to find it over his knees, but failing to hit upon it helooked at his sleeping comrade, and instantly, and with an exclamationof wrath, seized the blanket and dragged it away.
"Here, what are yer up to?" growled Tony hoarsely, sitting up andgrabbing at the blanket. "Want it all yerself, yer greedy beggar? Letgo, will yer?" They struggled together, while their anger apparentlyrose till they were on the point of blows.
"Whose blanket is it then?" cried Phil angrily. "It's mine, and I meanto have it. There's yours; you're lying on it. Stick to it, and I'llstick to mine; but not here. I've had enough of you. Every night it'sthe same. I'm getting worn out for want of sleep."
"Hurrah! here's them two bosom friends a-fighting," laughed a linesmanwho formed one of the number round the fire. "Have it out, boys. We'regetting stale for want of a little fun, and now's just the time for afight."
Phil and Tony took no notice of this encouragement, but, tearing theblanket angrily from his friend, Phil trudged away with it to the otherend of the sleeping line, leaving the sentry, who had watched the wholescene, doubled up with laughter, which was loudly echoed by the mensitting round the fire.
"Stop that noise," came a harsh voice at this moment from the tentoccupied by the officer in charge of the party; and instantly the sentrycommenced to tramp his beat, while the prisoners rose and went to theirhard and uncomfortable couches.
Phil chose a spot between two sleeping figures on the right, and,throwing himself down, apparently fell into a deep sleep. But part ofhis face was uncovered, and his eyes were fixed in the direction of thesentry, whose figure was now indistinguishable in the darkness. A wearyhour and a half dragged by, and then he prepared to make the attempt.Leaving his blanket, he crept on all-fours through the grass, and withinfive minutes was safely through the sentries, where, having put asufficient distance between them and himself he sat down and indulged ina whinny--a curious collection of sounds which every school-boy is anadept at, having, no doubt, times out of number, tried the nerves ofsome irascible master by repeating them from the remote and unobserveddepths of his class-room, together with cat-calls and otherpleasantries. Half an hour later Phil and Tony had met, and werecrawling away towards the Cossack outposts. Stealing through the longgrass, and avoiding stones and small patches of corn which were spreadthereabouts, they were soon near the post occupied by the horsemen.
"We'll get alongside that wall," whispered Phil, pulling Tony's sleevein the direction he meant. "It is not a long one, and by crawling tothe end and squeezing against it, we ought to be able to see ourgentleman without ourselves being observed."
Accordingly they crept to the wall, which surrounded a potato field, andadvancing cautiously were soon at the corner, where, lying side by side,they searched the darkness for the Cossack horseman.
"Can't see him anywhere," muttered Phil in an undertone.
"Here, what's that?" asked Tony excitedly, pointing in front of him.
Before Phil had time to answer, there was a hoarse cry of astonishment,and a figure which had been leaning upon the wall just round the cornerstarted out, and, lowering a lance, rushed at them. The weapon struckthe ground between them, narrowly missing Phil's arm. Next moment Tonyhad sprung at the Cossack with a low cry, and had felled him to theground with a powerful blow from his fist.
"Didn't I say I'd do for yer if yer winked yer blessed eye?" he saidbreathlessly. "Move again and I'll stick yer through with the lance."
But even if the Russian had been able to understand, he was not in thecondition which would allow him to prove offensive, for the fist hadcrashed like a sledge-hammer into his face, and he now lay motionlessand stunned upon the ground. Phil picked up the lance, and while theylay still, in case the slight noise should have aroused the next outposthe produced his knife and commenced to cut it in half. It was soondone, and, keeping the head armed with the spear-point, he handed theother to Tony, and they once more rose to their knees and creptstealthily away into the darkness. Ten minutes later they were walkingbriskly in the direction of Sebastopol.
A Gallant Grenadier: A Tale of the Crimean War Page 12
