CHAPTER III
Prisoners
SURROUNDED by a horde of fierce Arabs, who, with drums beating andweapons waving, seemed more like a victorious host than a retreatingarmy, Arthur Reeves and his young companions were forced through thebrambles and scrub that grew thickly within the oasis. In the openthe sun beat fiercely upon their bare backs and heads, for in theone-sided struggle all three had lost their linen-swathed hats.
Every now and again a bursting shell, falling wide of the Arabs,would urge them to increase their pace, for the sons of the deserthad a deep respect for shrapnel; but at length, drawing beyond range,the fierce warriors lost their sense of fear, and began to beat theirdrums with renewed vigour, while taunts and threats--fortunatelyunintelligible to the lads--were hurled at the captives.
At length the party reached a fairly extensive clearing in the oasis,where quite a hundred black tents were erected, and camels sheep, andgoats were browsing on the short grass. Veiled women andscantily-clad children, raising a shout of welcome, ran to meet thereturning warriors, carrying with them pitchers of water and kayoubsof dried dates and flour for their friends and relations.
Quickly the news spread. The Arabs will never acknowledge defeat totheir friends: the unbelievers had been routed and slain, or driveninto the sea. Not a Kafir remained betwixt the oasis and the greatsalt waters, save these three who had been brought in as a proof ofthe victory of the true followers of the Prophet. But the party couldnot conceal the fact that their losses had been heavy, and so to theshouts of joy were added the loud wailing and lamentation of thewives and kinsfolk of those who had fallen.
Yet, in spite of the great victory that the Arabs had claimed, theSheikh Wadherim frequently directed his eyes towards the north, andkept his ears on the alert for the sound of approaching musketry. Hiscamels, cattle, and sheep were gathered together; his goods andchattels were packed in bundles; his tents were ready to be struck atan instant's notice should occasion arise. At sunrise to-morrow, inany case, the long march across the desert to Wadi Tlat would begin,for the fierce Arab chieftain had fought--that being the main reasonwhy he had obeyed the loose Turkish authority, and had led his tribeacross the six hundred miles of desert. Now, having tasted of thejoys of battle, and paid dearly for it, there was nothing to preventhim from returning to his desert haunts, where there was no fear ofaggression from the hated unbelievers.
Still bound, Reeves and the two lads were placed in the centre of theencampment, with nothing to shelter them from the pitiless sun.Behind them, with a business-like, broad-bladed spear held across hisshoulders, stood a tall, sinewy Arab.
"What will they do with us, Mr. Reeves?" asked Hugh, speaking with aneffort, and then only after he had rolled his swollen tongue over hisparched lips.
"Can't say. Hold us to ransom, most likely."
"It is hot, this sun," said Gerald.
"Tear my shirt sleeve off; it's nearly in rags already."
"Why?" asked young Kirby wonderingly.
"Never mind why. For one reason, I can't tear it myself."
Raising his bound wrists with an effort, while the correspondentrolled over in the lad's direction, Gerald gripped the fragment ofthin flannel, and in another moment Reeves was without a sleeve, inaddition to a backless shirt.
"Give me the piece. That's it. Now, lean my way," and thecorrespondent neatly placed the broad strip of flannel upon the lad'shead. "Save you from sunstroke, perhaps. Now, Hugh, you take a stripfrom Gerald's shirt. It's in about the same first-class condition asmine."
But before Hugh could perform his part of the task, the Arab touchedhim on the shoulder with the haft of his spear, then spoke a fewwords to one of the crowd who were enjoying the spectacle of thecaptured Kafirs. The youth addressed evidently stood in awe of thecustodian of the prisoners, for his broad smile vanished, and turninghe ran swiftly towards the outskirts of the encampment.
In a few moments he returned with two broad leaves in his hand, whichhe offered to the man who had ordered him to bring them. Speakingrapidly, the latter commanded the youth to place them on the heads ofthe two uncovered captives.
Arthur Reeves caught the meaning of the Arab's words, but kept thenews to himself. It was not pity that had prompted the man to actthus. A slave whose head has been turned by the sun would be worsethan useless, for the Arabs, believing that a madman is under thespecial protection of Allah, make sure that he is well cared for,even though worthless from a commercial point of view.
So they were to be sold as slaves? If the worst came to the worst,Reeves thought, there was a means of escape, and he brought his kneestogether smartly. Yes, thank heavens! their savage captors had notentirely stripped off the clothing of their prisoners; and bound inthe folds of his puttees was a small yet serviceable automaticpistol, no thicker than a tobacco pouch, while behind his left kneewas a packet of fifty '22 cartridges, small, yet powerful enough todrive completely through a man.
Suddenly a sharp but distant buzz smote upon his ear. Several of theArabs also heard the noise, and hundreds of dark-brown faces wereturned skywards.
THE APPROACH OF THE MONOPLANE]
With a painful effort the correspondent turned his head and looked.At a good five hundred feet above the palm-tops a mono-plane waspassing swiftly in an easterly direction. Reeves could distinctly seetwo men, one sitting behind the other. As for the Arabs, they weretoo astonished even to utter a sound. The spectacle of a giant birdwith motionless wings bodily carrying off two men was too marvellousfor words.
Presently the monoplane tilted slightly, and changed its course inthe direction of the encampment. The lads gave a stifled exclamationof joy, but the correspondent knew that a fresh danger was in storefor them.
"Lie down flat!" he exclaimed, throwing himself upon the ground.
Seeing the gigantic monster swooping towards them, the Arabs--men,women, and children--took to flight. Even the spearman who was incharge of the captives took to his heels and ran for the scantyshelter of the palm trees.
"Stand by to run for it!" exclaimed Mr. Reeves. "But don't move tillI give the word."
The correspondent still kept his eyes fixed upon the rapidlyapproaching monoplane. One of the men in it did exactly what Reevesexpected he would do--he leaned sideways and dropped a small bomb.
Five seconds later the missile struck the ground, and burst with adeafening report, throwing showers of sand in all directions. Two ofthe rearmost Arabs fell, and several of the sheep and cattle wereliterally blown to atoms; but, although small pieces of iron andplenty of sand swept over the prostrate captives, Reeves and the twolads escaped unscathed.
"Now, run for it!" shouted the correspondent, for the monoplane wasskimming over the palm trees, its crew evidently thinking that onebomb was enough.
Hampered though they were by their arms being tied by the camel rope,the fugitives made good progress. Could they but gain the shelter ofthat part of the oasis lying to the north of the camp, chances wouldbe in their favour, since the Arabs had taken refuge on thesouthernmost side. But just as they were on the verge of the thickscrub Hugh stumbled and, unable to break his fall, crashed heavilyupon the ground. This brought the others up, and as Mr. Reevesstooped to help the lad, as well as the hampered condition of hisarms would allow, a loud shout told them that their flight had beendiscovered.
Escape was now out of the question. Surrounded by twenty Arabs, whoserage had been increased by the slaughter of much of their stock, andwho imagined that that was part of an attempt by the Italians to freethe three Kafirs, they were dragged back to the encampment, wherethey were beaten and kicked till the two lads, who barely knew whatbodily pain was, were almost dead. As for Mr. Reeves, he took hispunishment gamely, knowing that any resistance or sign of fear wouldmake their captors take a keener zest in their work.
The attack upon the encampment made things worse for the threeprisoners, for the Arabs, finding that they were still within rangeof their foes, immediately struck their tents, and before sunset thedimin
ished followers of the Sheikh Wadherim were on their waysouthward to the distant oasis of Wadi Tlat.
It was with some semblance of military order that the caravan setout. Twenty or thirty white-robed Arabs, armed with modern rifles,led the way, perched in high-peaked and backed saddles upon the backsof ambling and rolling camels. Next followed the cattle and sheep,under the care of a body of men who--though Arabs by birth,religion, manners, and customs--were undoubtedly of negro descent.After them came the women and children, some seated on mules andhorses, some afoot, with a sprinkling of men armed with longmatchlocks as a bodyguard. Next more camels--not the swift hieriesof the warriors, but those commonly used as beasts of burden--eachwith a large net-like sack slung on either side. Behind these camethe three prisoners, on foot, while a guard of about fifty half-nakedspearmen and flintlock-men brought up the rear.
Hugh and Gerald were already almost worn out by fatigue, pain, anddespair. They realized that every step was taking them farther andfarther from the sea, but whither they had no idea. Possibly it wasbetter for them to remain in ignorance. At least, so thought thecorrespondent, who did his utmost to cheer his young companions,although he himself was filled with vague fears. "Poor, pamperedyoungsters!" he thought. "It's hard lines. But, if ever they get outof this mess, it will be the making of them."
After the going down of the sun the burning heat lasted for about anhour, while the sand was radiating; but soon the intense warmth gaveplace to a chilling coldness, till the three captives, but partlyclad, shivered in the darkness. Yet at a steady pace of about threemiles an hour the caravan continued on its way, steering its courseby the stars. A distance equal to twenty-four English miles had to becovered before the next of the long chain of oases could be reached,and it was Sheikh Wadherim's intention to accomplish this part of thejourney ere dawn.
Reeves pondered deeply as he trudged painfully on his way. Hisgreatest anxiety was concerning his two young friends. What wouldhappen if they were to be separated? Had he been alone he would nothave hesitated to make a dash for freedom at the first opportunity.The farther the Arabs were away from the sea, the more lax wouldbecome their vigilance. A swift hierie, his automatic pistol, andhalf an hour's start, and he would back himself against the wholetribe. But with the lads this was not to be thought of. He was inhonour bound to keep by them as long as was humanly possible.
In any case, the correspondent made up his mind that he would give nosign that he had a smattering of Arabic. A few unguarded words fromhis savage captors would doubtless prove of immense benefit to him inthe future.
At about two in the morning a halt was called and a meal served out.The captives were given a small quantity of water in a gourd, ahandful of maize, and a few dates--exactly the same as theircaptors, save that their portion was considerably smaller. In aquarter of an hour the sheikh gave the order to resume the march, andafter the enforced rest the agonies of their worn bodies made theEnglishmen wish that the halt had never been made.
"I say, Rags, isn't this fearful?" said Gerald in a low voice. "Onlyfancy, last night we were sleeping in comfort on the floor ofLieutenant Riefi's cabin. Now we----"
And, unable to complete his sentence, the lad manfully tried toswallow a lump that would rise in his throat.
"I can't go on much farther, Rags," he continued, after a lengthypause. "My ankle's giving out."
"Lean on me if you can," replied Hugh; "I'm fairly fit." But even ashe spoke his knees momentarily gave way under him.
"What's that? Can't keep up?" asked Mr. Reeves. "Here, let me giveyou a hand," and, adding to his difficulties by having to twist hisbound hands, the elder of the two gripped Hugh by the arm.
"What will happen if we can't keep up?" asked Hugh. "Will they killus?"
"I think not," replied the correspondent. "But don't talk aboutgiving up. These fellows will rest all day."
Just then Hugh stumbled again, this time on his knees. His companionshalted.
Out of the darkness sprang a gigantic Arab, and, using the octagonalbutt of his musket with no sparing hand, he prodded the unfortunatelad with it till Mr. Reeves interposed his own body. Then the manslung his piece across his back, and, grasping Hugh in his sinewy,powerful grip, set him on his feet. But the lad, in spite of hisefforts to walk, fell once more.
Meanwhile the rest of the caravan, avoiding the halting group, waspassing by. Calling to one of his fellows, the Arab drew his knife--akeen, two-edged weapon, with a short wooden handle. Even in thestarlight Reeves recognized the kind of knife; it was similar tothose the Arabs used to hamstring the chargers of the 21st Lancers atOmdurman.
The blade glittered, flashed in the dull light, and sank--not in thelad's back, but through the thong that bound his arms; then, liftingHugh like a sack, the man threw him into the high-pommelled saddle ofa horse that another Arab had brought up.
Hugh's two comrades were still attached to him by the camel rope, oneon either side; but this proved to be a blessing in disguise, as thetwo footsore captives were able to aid themselves by the tension ofthe cord.
Just before dawn the few trees that comprised the oasis of El Khorloomed up against the paling stars. Suddenly the men at the head ofthe column checked the camels, and brought their rifles to the ready.Reeves could hear the metallic click of the bolts.
Then the tense silence was broken by a voice exclaiming in Arabic:"Peace be between us!" to which Sheikh Wadherim replied: "There ispeace between us." Instantly the Arabs discharged their rifles in theair, and urged their camels forward to mingle with the tribes alreadyin possession of the oasis.
Utterly worn out, Hugh was lifted from his horse, and the threecomrades in distress threw themselves upon the hard ground. In spiteof the cramped position of their arms--for Hugh was againsecured--they slept the sleep of utter exhaustion.
The correspondent was the first to awake. It was broad daylight, butthe sun was not yet high enough to cause discomfort.
Standing in front of the three English captives were the SheikhWadherim and another Arab, evidently a person of importance.
"These, then, my brother, are the tokens of our victory over theunbelieving dogs?" asked the stranger.
"Aye, thanks be to Allah and Mohammed his prophet. We drove them eveninto the sea. Few escaped to tell the tale, and they were taken up bythe houses that float upon the deep."
"'Tis a pity, brother, that more were not brought hither," remarkedthe stranger meditatively. "One, in truth, seems well able to do aday's work at the salt pans. As for the others, they are beardlessboys. Are most of the men of the Kafir host thus?"
"Nevertheless, they are worth a good price, Abdullah. In a few moonsthey will be as strong and as willing to toil as the white unbelieverwho was brought from the south. Take them at the price I ask----"
"Nay, Wadherim, I will have the man, and not the hairless youths. Asyou say, they will fetch a good price at Tlat----"
"But----" The sheikhs moved on, still talking volubly. Reeves graspedenough to know the meaning of their conversation, even though he hadthe presence of mind to affect utter ignorance. He was to beseparated from his two young companions.
Captured at Tripoli: A Tale of Adventure Page 3
