CHAPTER VII
A MAD RACE
Burnet was too well experienced in eastern travel to commence hisjourney in the heat of the day. He found a fairly quiet khan where herested until the late afternoon, not forgetting to complain bitterly ofhis summary dismissal by a camel-driver whom it was impossible toplease.
When at last he started, he struck across a line of low hills to thenorth-east, towards a wide bend in the Euphrates just below thelatitude of Kut el Amara. Between the hills and the river the countrywas marshy and desolate, and he felt pretty secure against encounterswith inquisitive wanderers. His idea was to swim the Euphrates at thenorthern extremity of the bend, from which the _tell_ of Tukulti-Ninipwas about a march distant.
Night overtook him before he reached the river, and since he did notknow this part of the country well enough to proceed in darkness, hefound himself obliged to seek a resting-place, and passed the nighthours somewhat uneasily in a sandy hollow. At dawn he was up again,and had arrived at the edge of the marshy district when the midday heatagain compelled a halt. Hitherto he had met no one; in the distance hehad seen one or two bird catchers moving upon the marsh. He sleptthrough the afternoon, and had just started again when a squadron ofTurkish irregular cavalry emerged from behind a mound sparsely coveredwith ruins, where the troopers had probably off-saddled during the heatof the day.
Of all men these were such as he least desired to meet. The Turks wereso eager to snap up recruits that no explanations or excuses, nofeigning of half-wittedness, were likely to avail him if he werecaught. Unluckily the country was devoid of cover until he could gainthe marsh reeds nearly half a mile away; the cavalry were, when hecaught sight of them, a little farther distant in the oppositedirection. If he could once plunge among the reeds he had a reasonablechance of escaping, for the horses would be at a disadvantage on theboggy ground. But at a second glance he abandoned hope; the men musthave seen him; they would reach the reeds first, and it was so small apatch that they could encircle it and soon beat him out. Flight wasevidently useless; he must put the best face on it and trust to motherwit.
Even as he made up his mind to this, three men detached themselves fromthe squadron, which appeared to be about a hundred strong, and gallopedtowards him. Their comrades pursued their course upstream at a walk.When the men rode up to him, one of them ordered him to follow them: hemust come before their officer. He assumed as silly a look as hecould, and without replying, walked on at the same sauntering gait thathe had adopted as soon as he saw the soldiers.
"Now, ass-head, bestir yourself," cried the man who had addressed him."The captain is a hasty man."
"Ahi! Ass-head I am, but my legs--are not they the legs of a man? Howshould they keep pace with the legs of these mules?"
"Mules! What a foolish fellow is this! Take hold of my stirrup, andrun."
Burnet clutched at the horse's tail, then shrank back.
"Woe is me! Shall I have more dealings with a shaving-brush?"
"By the Beard, he has not the wits of a calf," said another of the men."Take him up behind you, Hassan."
The trooper, a brawny Kurd, stooped, took Burnet by the middle, andhoisted him with apparent ease to the horse's crupper.
"Put your arms round me," he said, and galloped off.
On their catching up with the squadron the captain gave the order tohalt, the trooper let Burnet down, and led him to his officer,explaining that he seemed to be an idiot, not knowing a horse from amule nor a tail from a stirrup iron.
"Your name?" demanded the captain.
"Yusuf, may you live for ever," replied Burnet.
"What are you? Why are you wandering here alone?"
"Ahi! I am an ass-head; that giant there says so, and so did mymaster, Firouz Ali."
"The barber of Bagdad!"
"Truly he is a barber, and of Bagdad; and he has brushes and sharpknives and soap, and he pours water on the soap----"
"This must be that witless apprentice of the barber's," the captaininterrupted, "of whom they tell that he filled the mouth of Bukkad Beywith soap."
"Mashallah! was it not well done?" cried Burnet, with a foolish smile."It was like cream in a cup of raspberries."
"The boy is a fool," said the captain. "You left Firouz Ali: what areyou doing here?"
"Truly I am gazing at the sun, noble effendi," said Burnet innocently,fixing his eyes on the officer's round fat face. "My father says myface is the moon, and he wants to see it." He took out the Arabicnote, unfolded it, and offered it to the captain, who however pushed itaway impatiently.
"Answer my question: what have you done since you left the barber?"
"Eaten and drunk and slept, and suffered many stripes at the hands ofone Ibrahim, a driver of camels. It is true I am an ass-head, for hetoo called me so, and having brought me to the town yonder, he sent meaway; and I am even now going to my home in the Beni Lam country tofeed the goats. It is all I am fit for."
The captain looked him up and down.
"He is a fool, but his limbs are sound," he said. "He is good enoughfor the infantry. Take him up behind you again, Hassan. We will seewhat they make of him in Bagdad."
The squadron moved off at an easy trot. Burnet was alarmed at the turnthings had taken. He had little doubt that Firouz Ali would find somemeans of preventing his enlistment in the army; but the delay wouldprevent his meeting with Captain Ellingford at the _tell_ and render itimpossible for him to convey his information to headquarters, at anyrate for some time to come. Meanwhile the young chief Rejeb's tribewas in danger of annihilation. However, there was no help for it.Bagdad was a long way off, and before they got there he might find ameans of escaping.
As they rode along, Burnet listened to the troopers' conversation.They appeared to be a mixed lot, and spoke in a variety of dialectswhich he found very puzzling. But from words he made out here andthere he gathered that the squadron had been on a reconnaissance downthe right bank of the Euphrates. The mention of Halil's name now andagain seemed to indicate that the expedition had been in some wayconnected with the impending attack on Rejeb. Whether it had been madein anticipation of that attack, to collect information, or whether thesquadron was a part of the force detailed for the actual operations,Burnet was unable to determine. If the raid on Rejeb's people hadactually occurred, his chances of finding an open route, should hesucceed in crossing the Euphrates, were small indeed. The enemy wouldalmost certainly hold the country through which he must travel, andprobably in some strength. But from what he knew of the Turk it seemedunlikely that the expedition had even started yet. General Eisensteinhad mentioned a month; there were still some days to spare, and noteven the driving force of the German would have the effect of keepingeither Turks or Arabs up to time. The month would probably extend tofive or six weeks before the organisation of the expedition wassufficiently complete to satisfy Eisenstein, who, like all the Germanhigh command, would not move until he felt assured that every possiblecontingency had been foreseen and provided for.
Burnet cast many a longing glance at the fine Arab ridden by thecaptain. It trod the sand with the high step and graceful movement ofthe thoroughbred, and a gallop on its back would have been a sheer joy.
The squadron continued their march for some time after sunset,intending to bivouac at a spot which they had used for the purpose onthe way down. It was a mound rising slightly above the marsh which hadextended along their right flank the whole of the day. When theyhalted, the captain gave orders that Burnet should be tied up duringthe night. He was allowed first to eat a meal of his own dates, washeddown with tepid, musty water from the skin he carried. It was anunpleasant night. His feet were hobbled, and his hands being bound, hesuffered a good deal from the depredations of mosquitoes which he wasunable to brush away. The birds and animals of the marsh kept up astrident chorus. Occasionally a wild boar with his family could beheard crashing through the reeds. It was impossible to sleep except infitful snatches, and Burnet beguil
ed the wearisome hours by trying toform some plan of escape. He made several attempts to release hishands, but the trooper who had tied the cords had done his workthoroughly. Until his hands were free the most ingenious scheme foreluding his captors was a mere beating of the air; and he had toconfess to himself that even then the chances of getting away from somany well-mounted men were not worth reckoning.
Overcome by weariness, Burnet was at last in a deep sleep when, at thefirst sign of dawn, the camp was astir. He was wakened, his bonds wereloosed, and he was permitted to make a frugal meal again while thetroopers saddled up in preparation for starting. Burnet noticed thatthe squadron had diminished in numbers, and learnt by and by that twoor three parties of half a dozen men each had ridden off very early toscout in various directions.
Looking around him, he observed a wide glittering expanse some threemiles or more to the east--no doubt the Euphrates shining in themorning sunlight. Rush-grown pools in the middle distance suggestedthat the intervening country was marshy.
Burnet's limbs were a good deal cramped by the uneasy postures he hadhad to adopt during the night, and he thought it well to assume agreater degree of stiffness than he actually felt. Uttering manydoleful lamentations on his unhappy lot, he sat down and rocked himselfto and fro until one of the troopers told him (with a scornful gibe onhis lack of wit) to walk about if he wished to ease his aching. Themajority of the men were squatting or lying on the ground beside theirhorses. The captain, in the centre of the mound some twenty yards awayfrom Burnet, was examining the surrounding country through his fieldglasses. His horse was being walked up and down by his orderly, whoeyed the benumbed prisoner with a certain amusement as he passed him.Burnet ignored the man and looked only at the horse, admiring thegraceful high-mettled creature.
Suddenly a wild idea set his blood leaping. He rose, as if in responseto the trooper's suggestion, and began to walk up and down, slowly andstiffly. Every moment he drew nearer to the short stretch on which theorderly was giving his master's horse gentle exercise. He allowed theman to pass him once, but as he returned from the end of his beat,Burnet gathered himself together, threw himself upon the Turk, and witha straight right-hander, shot out with all his strength, sent himstaggering back. Half dazed as he was, the man still clutched thebridle. There was no time to loosen his grip. The plunging of thehorse had already attracted the officer's attention, and Burnet waspartly hidden from him by the animal's body. While the orderly wasstill staggering, Burnet vaulted into the saddle, and the scared animalwrenched himself from the man's relaxed grip and dashed across themound towards the open country.
The officer had rushed forward, and with a furious imprecation sentthree bullets in quick succession after the runaway. Burnetinstinctively ducked; he discovered afterwards that one of the shotshad perforated his water skin. The camp was in uproar. The troopershad sprung up, and in obedience to their captain's frenzied commandsleapt into their saddles. Then began the maddest gallop that theplains of Babylonia had ever seen. Burnet felt that at every stridehis mount must come to grief. At the start he had clung to the horse'smane, at the same time pressing his knees into its flanks with amuscular energy of which he felt the resulting strain for several days.The reins hung loose, the stirrups danced, and it was only by sheerhorsemanship that Burnet was able to retain his seat until he recoveredthe former, which he had feared might trip the horse up. To slip hisfeet into the stirrups was impossible while the mad pace was maintained.
It was some moments before he realised that his steed was carrying himtowards the south-west, away from his goal. With a firm grip now onthe reins he managed to edge the horse gradually to the left, and,still at the same furious gallop, made straight towards the river.Lying low on the horse's neck, he glanced round, and saw, as he hadexpected, that the troopers were strung out in an irregular line behindhim. Some, divining his intentions, were already heading to cut himoff. And now his familiarity with the Arab horse served him well. Bydegrees he brought the frightened animal under control, and checked itspace, realising that its panic would soon exhaust its strength. He hadlittle fear that the trooper's heavier horses would overtake him; butthere was a risk of meeting one of the scouting parties which hadridden off an hour or two before, and he might need all his mount'sreserve of speed to avoid being cut off.
Having mastered the horse, he was able to give his mind to a rapidcalculation of his course of action. It was of the first importancethat he should keep off the marsh, for if the animal were mired, withina few minutes he would find himself the target for fifty odd rifles.Even a convenient bed of reeds would hardly save him, for as oneagainst fifty he would stand no chance. Before he attempted to crossthe river his object must be to ride the pursuers out of sight, adifficult matter on the flat plain, which was almost devoid of cover.It was a case of trusting to the horse's stamina. Keeping thereforewithin touch of the edge of the marsh, he settled to a fast steadytrot, every now and then looking over his shoulder for a sight of hispursuers.
For some time Burnet's resolution to spare his horse prevented him fromincreasing his lead appreciably. Indeed, the pursuers began to gainupon him. But he was so confident in his mount's superiority that thisfact did not disturb him. Barring accidents, he could outstrip themore heavily mounted troopers at his pleasure.
Now that this plan of action was clearly outlined, he began to feel theexhilaration of the race. The horse had lost his fright, and alreadyseemed to have entered into that mutual understanding which isestablished between a thoroughbred animal and a skilled rider. The airof early morning was crisp and still; there was no wind to sweep dustinto his eyes, and the sand that flew up under the horse's hoofs hungin a cloud behind him.
His only anxiety was concerned with the scouting parties, and he lookedmore frequently ahead, and to his right, than towards the pursuersbehind. There was little or no danger to be feared from the marsh onhis left, but at any moment one of the detachments might appear on theplain to the south or west.
This apprehension proved to be well-founded. He presently caught sightof what appeared to be a low cloud far away to the south-west, and afew minutes later he was able to distinguish a number of specks in themidst of it. These grew rapidly larger as they approached, and he atlength counted seven horsemen riding close together, and almostcertainly troopers of the squadron. He had just time, perhaps, toavoid them; but whether he struck off to the right or left he wouldarouse their suspicion, especially as they must already have seen thestring of pursuers in his rear. They could hardly fail also torecognise their captain's horse, and would probably guess that ahorse-stealer had been at work and ride to cut him off, or, what wouldbe worse, dismount and fire. It seemed best to take the bold course:to ride straight towards them, leaving them in doubt as to the meaningof the chase until he was close upon them.
Bending low upon the horse's neck to avoid recognition as long aspossible, he groped for his revolver and held on his way. As heapproached the party, their actions showed that they were puzzled.They halted, gesticulated, gathered in a group to debate the matter.No doubt they thought that a fugitive would hardly ride straight intotheir midst. But before Burnet had ridden another hundred yards he sawthat the critical moment was at hand. The men suddenly broke apart; itappeared that they had at last recognised him, for they unslung theirrifles. And now for the first time Burnet made the supreme call uponhis horse. The gallant beast shot forward instantly, closing in uponthe group with amazing speed. With the instinct of leaderless men, theTurks, evidently disconcerted, bunched themselves together again, andlost a few precious moments in fumbling with their rifles. Before theyhad aligned themselves and got their weapons ready Burnet was uponthem. When some twenty yards distant, a touch on the rein caused hishorse to swerve slightly to the left, and the nearest Turk, droppinghis rifle, drew his tulwar and aimed a sweeping cut at Burnet as heflashed by. Burnet felt the air of the stroke as it missed him byinches. Turning on his saddle, he fired his revolver, ra
ther with theobject of inspiring caution and respect than with the expectation ofhitting any of the enemy. At such a headlong speed to take aim wasimpossible. His shot, in truth, missed. He heard four scatteredcracks: the rifle bullets whistled past; but he was already many yardsbeyond the stationary group, and when the thunder of pursuit reachedhis ears, he was confident that, with a clear course now before him, hecould shake off the new pursuers if his horse could stand the pace.
When next he glanced back, one man was hard on his heels, but the restwere strung out at various intervals behind him, and the originalpursuers were rapidly losing ground. There was nothing to fear exceptfrom the one man who was evidently better mounted than his comrades.He carried his rifle still unslung, and though an Arab of the desertmight have found it a useful weapon even at the breakneck speed atwhich they were riding, it was not likely that a Turkish trooper wouldpossess the dexterity of his wilder brother. But it was clearlynecessary to dispose of this man. Burnet slightly checked his horse,and trusting it with its own course he looked back continually over hisshoulder and watched the Turk foot by foot reducing the gap betweenthem. From forty yards it became thirty--twenty--and then Burnetturned suddenly in the saddle and took a snap shot at the pursuer. Itwent wide. The Turk gave a shout of triumph, flourished his tulwar,and came galloping on. At fifteen yards Burnet tried another shot, andbefore he could see the effect of it, had to turn hastily to controlthe horse, whom the repeated shots had apparently disturbed. But hewas conscious that the sounds of pursuit had died away, and glancinground a few moments later he saw that the Turk had reined up and wasdismounting. That he was not seriously hurt was soon proved. Burnethad only just faced forward again when a bullet sang past his ear. "Agood shot," he thought, and bent low to avoid a second. But no othercame, and glancing back, he saw that the man's comrades had gallopedpast him, and were now between him and the quarry. There was no fearof further rifle practice.
THE LAST SHOT]
Burnet was surprised that the troopers had not by this timerelinquished the chase, for they were hopelessly outpaced, and must belosing a yard in every twenty. Probably they had unpleasantanticipations of their captain's wrath if they returned unsuccessful,and were hoping against hope that accident would give the fugitive intotheir hands. It was only after they had continued the pursuit foranother mile or so that they at last recognised its futility.Dismounting, they tried to snipe Burnet's fast-lessening figure. Inanother five minutes he was beyond effective range, and with a sigh ofcontentment drew rein.
"Well done, old fellow," he said, patting the steaming neck of thequivering horse. "You have earned a rest."
Carry On! A Story of the Fight for Bagdad Page 7
