Carry On! A Story of the Fight for Bagdad

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER IX

  FRIENDS OR FOES?

  Feeling that he was now reasonably safe, Burnet led the horse throughthe stretch of marsh land that bordered the river until he reached adry spot, screened by tall grasses, where he could rest and think outhis course.

  To begin with, he had lost a whole day. With the utmost expedition,and no accidents, he could hardly reach the _tell_ at the timeappointed with Captain Ellingford. Moreover, the horse, to which heowed his escape, was now an encumbrance and an embarrassment. Theremainder of his journey lay over a parched and barren plain, thatprovided sustenance for neither man nor beast. The small stock ofdates which he had purchased in Meshed Ali would suffice for himself,but not for the horse as well. True, the Arab horse was accustomed togo long distances with little or no food, but it would be two days atthe best before he reached the _tell_, and two days' fast was beyondeven the Arab's endurance. Further if by good luck he should meetCaptain Ellingford--and that was now doubtful--what could he do withthe horse then? He could not return to the British lines except byaeroplane: yet it went much against the grain to abandon the nobleanimal that had served him so well. If turned adrift and left toforage for himself, the horse would probably pick up a subsistenceuntil he found a new master. A new master! In these regions thatcould hardly be any one than an enemy. Turkish troops were constantlyon the move in the plains between the Euphrates and the Tigris. Burnetwas loth to let his prize fall again into Turkish hands. The problemhow to save the horse and yet not fail in his appointment with CaptainEllingford was a very hard nut to crack.

  When Burnet had pondered the question for some time, a light suddenlydawned upon him. The stronghold of the young chief Rejeb, which he hadheard described in the course of the interview between GeneralEisenstein and Major Burckhardt, was about one march distant from the_tell_, in a south-easterly direction. As nearly as he could judge,the spot where he had crossed the river was almost due south of the_tell_. In all probability, then, the stronghold was not less thanfifteen nor more than twenty-five miles to the east. Could he discoverthe stronghold, leave the horse in Rejeb's care, and yet keep hisappointment with Captain Ellingford?

  There were several circumstances to take into consideration. In thefirst place, it was clear from what the Germans had said that thestronghold was not easy to discover. Its locality was not well knownto the authorities in Bagdad; they had had recourse to MajorBurckhardt; it was certain that Rejeb had chosen a place far from thetracks of the desert travellers, and by its very nature hard of access.Then, too, the expedition organised against it might already be onfoot; the stronghold might, indeed, have already fallen. To approachit might be to jump into the lion's jaws. On the other hand, GeneralEisenstein had anticipated delay. The month he had allowed for theorganisation of the expedition was barely up, and there might be timeto gain the stronghold before operations began, and, indeed, to giveRejeb warning of what was to come.

  On the whole Burnet decided that it was worth attempting. If he failedto find the stronghold, he could make up for lost time by ridinginstead of walking to the _tell_, and the horse must then, after all,be turned adrift.

  Having made up his mind, he shared a few dates with the horse, venturedto drink a little water from a pool, then mounted and set off eastward.He had expected that in proportion as he increased his distance fromthe river the country would grow less swampy; on the contrary, thefarther he went, the worse it became. Again he found it necessary totrust largely to his horse. The necessity of making detours wasannoying, because they involved loss of time. But as the animal pickedits way unerringly through the marshy patches, Burnet began to realisethe defensive possibilities of this water-logged region. If this wasthe country chosen by Rejeb's tribe as their refuge, the strongholdshould give its assailants a vast amount of trouble. Unhealthy itmight be; it was certainly secure.

  As the day wore on, Burnet wondered whether he had decided rightly.Progress was terribly slow. The zigzag course necessitated by thenature of the ground, made it difficult even to maintain his generaldirection. Without a compass, without definite knowledge of theposition of the stronghold, it seemed that he might wander for days inthis desolate region without gaining a single clue. At nightfall hewas almost in despair. Fatigue, the reaction from the strain of theescape and the pursuit, told heavily upon his spirits, and when hesought a secluded spot where he might rest during the night, he was aprey to that heart-sickness and despondency which assails at times eventhe bravest.

  He found a clear and fairly dry space, with a background of shrubs,which seemed to promise security for the night. Tethering his horse toa stout bush, he fastened his revolver to his wrist, and lay down, withhis back to the wall of vegetation, his face to the open. Weary thoughhe was, he intended to keep awake, but he dozed more than once, shookhimself, got up and walked about, lay down again when he thoughthimself fully roused, only to fall at once into a profound sleep.

  In the dead of night he was suddenly startled into consciousness by ashrill whinny from his horse. He was in the act of springing to hisfeet when a number of forms closed in upon him silently out of thedarkness. Before he could use his revolver he was seized, thrownviolently back upon the ground, and in spite of his struggles securelyheld. It was so dark that he could not count his captors; but while helay in their grasp there was the sound of others approaching; he heardno voices; the men who held him had said nothing, and one had pressed ahand upon his mouth. Presently a light was struck: Burnet rememberedas an incongruous detail in such a spot that it was a safety match; anda small lantern was lit. By its feeble light he saw himself surroundedby a score of well-armed Arabs. He tried to speak, but the pressureupon his mouth did not relax. Two of the men swiftly tied his hands;another gagged him with a strip of dirty cloth cut from his garment;then he was lifted up, his horse was released, and the whole party,preceded by the man carrying the lantern, quitted the open space andstarted to march through the tall grasses below.

  A CAPTIVE IN BONDS]

  The silence of his captors, their rapid yet stealthy movements,suggested the caution of men travelling in an enemy's country, or atany rate in the neighbourhood of a hostile force. They followed theirleader, who held the lantern, in single file, each keeping closely intouch with the man before him. Burnet had been placed about half-waydown the line, and immediately behind him came the man leading hishorse.

  Glancing at the sky, he knew by the position of the stars that thegeneral direction of their march was eastward, and he wondered with acertain hopefulness whether their destination was the stronghold whichhe had set out to find. Their muteness had prevented him from pickingup clues from conversation, and they might, for all he could tell, be apart of the force of Rejeb's enemy the chief Halil. But it seemed muchmore probable that they were Rejeb's men, and Burnet was vexed thattheir over-caution in gagging him prevented him from explaining that hewas a friend of their chief.

  The march continued without pause through the rest of the night. Theleader made so many turns in seeking practicable paths through theswamp that the distance covered must have been three times the distanceas the crow flies. Burnet, tired when he started, was ready to dropwith fatigue; but he was resolved to "stick it out," and to show nosign of his condition. It was not until the darkness began to breakthat the embargo of silence was lifted. The leader appeared to consultwith some of the men at the head of the line. Their tones were so lowthat Burnet could not hear what was said, and after a few minutes theyagain fell silent. When, however, it was quite light they halted. Twoor three of the men went ahead in different directions, evidently toscout, and when they returned after a brief interval, the leader gave agrunt of satisfaction, and the whole party, at his signal, opened theirwallets and prepared to take a meal. At another signal the man who hadmarched behind Burnet removed the gag, and placed him before the leader.

  This man, a swarthy hook-nosed Arab of about thirty-five years, lookedkeenly at his prisoner.

 
; "That is a fine horse," were his first words. "Where did you steal it?"

  Burnet could not help smiling. The man had shrewdly hit the mark.What should he reply? He thought it best for the present to temporise.

  "Truly he that borrows meaning not to pay back is a thief," he said:"yet it is not theft if it is done openly."

  "Wallah!" grunted the man. "What is your name, whence do you come, andon what errand?"

  These questions came after a slight pause, during which Burnet hadthought rapidly. His captors must have recognised the militarytrappings of the horse; they must know that it had belonged to some onein the Turkish service, and their suspicion that he had stolen it,together with the absence of any note of indignation in the leader'squestion, seemed to argue that they were at any rate no great friendsof the Turk, and to confirm his surmise that they were Rejeb's men. Heresolved on a bold stroke.

  "Is it for servants to know their master's business?" he said. "Myerrand shall be told to your chief. Send word to Rejeb your masterthat Yusuf the boatman would have speech with him."

  He had spoken in loud tones so that all might hear, and the start ofsurprise which he noticed in a rapid glance around the company at thename Rejeb convinced him that he was right.

  "We have heard of Yusuf the boatman," said the leader, with a markedchange of tone. "Are you indeed the man who saved Rejeb out of thehand of Halil's creatures?--the man whom our chief bade us hold inhonour?"

  "I am he. And that there be no delay, send a man upon this horse toyour chief, telling him that Yusuf the boatman is here."

  The leader ordered one of his men to ride off with the message, and therest to resume their march.

  "May not my hands now be unbound?" Burnet asked, as he set off with therest.

  "Nay, that is for our chief to order," replied the man. "What if youare some paltry horse-thief that has taken the name of Yusuf theboatman with some evil design? Your dress is rather that of acamel-driver than of a boatman."

  "Truly your chief has faithful servants. So be it, then, until hiseyes fall upon me."

  Something less than an hour later, a small party of horsemen was seenin the distance, approaching at speed. One of them had a led horse.In a few minutes Rejeb rode up at the head of his men.

  "Peace be with you!" he cried, springing from his horse, and comingtowards Burnet with an eager light in his eyes. "This is a day ofrejoicing. But what is this? Your hands are bound!"

  "Your servant here kept me faithfully bound until assured that I amwhat I said I was."

  "Mashallah! Loose him at once," he cried to the man. "Know that thisis the brother of whom I told you, saying that he had saved my life,and that I and my people are bounden to him for ever. And now, mybrother, mount this horse that I have brought for you: that horse themessenger rode was weary and famished and is being well cared for."

  He put no questions to Burnet, treating him as a guest who had beenexpected. The horsemen rode off, Rejeb commanding the unmounted partyto follow as rapidly as they could. During the ride there was littleconversation between Rejeb and Burnet, though the latter guessed fromthe young chief's manner that he either had important news to give, orexpected to hear something of importance.

  After about half an hour's easy trot they came in sight of extensiveruins on a mound surrounded by swamp, and as they drew nearer to them,Burnet wondered how the stronghold, if this it was, could beapproached, for it appeared to be completely encircled by wide expansesof water, broken here and there by areas of mud or reeds. Presently,however, they came to a broad wady that must in ancient times have beenone of the major irrigation works of the district. Here the party fellinto single file, and Rejeb, apologising for riding in front of hisguest, led the way along the narrow embankment of the channel. Atintervals the embankment was intersected by smaller wadys: these thehorsemen waded through.

  When they at length arrived opposite the mound, Rejeb turned abruptlyto the right and pushed through a clump of reeds on to a narrow stonecauseway, fringed on both sides with tall rushes which completely hidit from view. It led directly to the mound, almost half a mile aheadin a straight line. Burnet learnt, later on, that the causeway wasbelieved to date from the Babylonian age; it was supposed to have beenbuilt, not for the passage of the swamp--for in those days thesurrounding country was probably dry land, carefully irrigated from thewadys--but as a means of access to the temple which then crowned themound, in times of flood due to abnormal rainfall. Centuries ofneglect had turned the land once well drained into permanent swamp, butthe solid masonry of the causeway had withstood the ravages of time,though when Rejeb's people first discovered it it had been muchovergrown with rampant vegetation. They had at once perceived theadvantages of the mound as a natural fortress and of the causeway asthe only means of access. They cleared away the overgrowth except atthe edges, where the vegetation that was allowed to remain made thecauseway a sort of secret lane.

  On riding up the mound, Burnet saw that the ruins were even moreextensive than they had appeared at a distance. They covered a spacenearly half a mile long and a third of a mile wide. He conjecturedthat the place had been the site of a temple and the dwellings of acommunity of priests. The lower part of what had once been a largetower was in a fair state of preservation, and dominated the rest ofthe ruins. It was here that Rejeb and his family were lodged; for,young as he was, he had already a wife and children. No otherbuildings had been habitable when the mound was chosen as a harbour ofrefuge; but the young men of the tribe had made for themselves fairlyserviceable shelters out of the fragments of masonry with which thesite abounded.

  These details were explained by Rejeb as he led the way to his tower.He explained also that only part of his tribe had found refuge here.The rest were dispersed. Many of them, especially the old men, women,and children, had been received by friendly tribes in the southerndesert. With the exception of Rejeb's own family, the occupants of the_tell_ were nearly all fighting men. They had with them all their mostvaluable horses, and were armed with rifles of various patterns. Theirgreat difficulty was the supply of food and fodder. They had broughtwith them a considerable stock of dates, meal, and dried goat's flesh,which they kept in underground cellars excavated for the purpose; andthis they supplemented by periodical forays upon the plantations andflocks of the weaker tribes of the marshes. But it was becomingincreasingly difficult to keep up the supply, especially of fodder forthe horses. A great part of the surplus produce of the neighbouringtribes was sold to the Turkish army, and the sympathies of these peoplewas naturally on the side of their customers. They would just asreadily sell food to the British, but the British were still barred bythe entrenchments at Kut el Amara. The smaller communities of Arabs,moreover, were dominated by the large and powerful tribe of Halil; andRejeb's people, obliged to retreat into their fastness, were not in aposition to exchange and barter commodities. Their only means ofsupplying themselves was to swoop suddenly, most often by night, uponthe settlements of their less warlike neighbours, and of late they hadonly too often returned from these forays unsuccessful.

  It was not until Rejeb had conducted Burnet to his tower that theimportant matters each had at heart were entered upon. In a bare stoneroom, as comfortless as a hermit's cell, the two young men, seated onblocks of stone, exchanged confidences.

  "You know me as Yusuf the boatman," Burnet began. "I owe it to you totell you that I am really an Englishman--the son of Burnet Aga of whomyou may have heard."

  The Arab gave no sign of surprise.

  "Did not my heart tell me you were not as you seemed?" he said.

  "I would tell you all my adventures but that I have little time tospare," Burnet went on. "I promised to join a British officer to-dayat the _tell_ where you and I met. Let it suffice that I have been toBagdad on a secret errand, that I fell into the hands of Turks as Icame to seek you, and escaped on the horse of their officer. The restof my story must be told at leisure on some future day. Now, myfriend, Firouz Al
i, the barber of Bagdad, sent a messenger to informyou that the Turks have joined hands with Halil to root out you andyour tribe. Did the man reach you?"

  "He came but a few days ago, and departed immediately to carry histidings to your general below Kut, for it is a matter that concernsyour army weightily. The talk of the country is that Kut is a lockeddoor which your countrymen will never open. Yet there must be someamong the Turks who fear that the lock will one day be burst: if itwere not so, why should they help Halil to destroy a small tribe likemine? Is it not because they know that my people hate the Turks, andwill lend assistance to all who are the Turk's enemies? When thebarriers at Kut are burst, and your army pours through the open doorwayto attack Bagdad, my people will help to protect them on the side ofthe Euphrates. This the Turks well know, and therefore it is that theygo about to destroy me, as it were to pluck a thorn from a foot. Ibade the messenger tell these things to your general, but I cannot hopethat he will send me help, for he is a great way off, and moreover hewill not move a part of his army so far from his main body. There isno help for me until Kut has fallen. Wallahi! I must guard my ownskin. In my father's days his tribe withstood more than once the powerof the pashas of Bagdad; they will do so again, though in truth theodds are heavy against them now, when the Germans have furnished theTurks with new and terrible engines of war such as my father neverknew. But we will make a stout defence in this our stronghold, andAllah is merciful to those who fight in a good cause."

  Burnet admired the young chief's courage, though he doubted whether,even in a position so strong by nature, all the valour of the Arabswould prevail against the superior arms of the enemy. Rejeb informedhim that the parties of scouts whom he sent out daily had as yet learntnothing of the expedition, and his great hope was that the Britishwould have broken through at Kut before the menace became pressing.

  It was necessary that Burnet should depart betimes if he was to reachhis rendezvous with Captain Ellingford while daylight lasted. Afterconsultation with Rejeb it was arranged that he should ride out underthe escort of a few picked mounted men, who would conduct him by theshortest route to the _tell_. They would not actually approach the_tell_, lest the sight of Arabs near the spot should deter CaptainEllingford from alighting. Having brought Burnet within two or threemiles of it, they would return, taking his horse with them, and leavinghim to perform the remainder of the journey on foot. They wouldfurnish him with food and water enough for two or three days. If byill luck the captain should not keep the appointment, Burnet wouldreturn on foot to Rejeb's stronghold, and endeavour to reach theBritish lines by a long detour.

  Rejeb summoned six of his men, explained that they were to serve Burnetas they would serve himself, and gave them the orders that had beenagreed upon. A little more than an hour after his arrival at thestronghold Burnet quitted it, riding the Turk's horse, and accompaniedby the six Arabs, on mounts little inferior to his own.