by Lewis Hough
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
IN THE RANKS OF THE ENEMY.
Harry Forsyth had put off the evil day as long as he could, but atlength he found himself forced to turn an apparent traitor to his Queenand country, or else to give up the object of his journey when histrials, dangers, and sufferings had been crowned with success, andprobably to lose his life into the bargain.
The detachment in which the Sheikh Burrachee held a command came to aprecipitous rocky mountain overlooking the Nile, and here they were tostop the English advance. No position could have been more judiciouslychosen: the rocks looked down on a narrow gorge of the river still morestraightened by an island named Dulka, which it was determined togarrison strongly with riflemen, and there was debate as to who shouldundertake this duty. Harry hoped that it would be the tribe with whichhis uncle had become associated, and of which he himself was nowsupposed to be a member, because he thought it would be hardly difficultto slip away down the stream somehow, by swimming if no other means wereto be had, and so join the English before they attacked, and avoid eventhe appearance of being a partaker of his uncle's crimes. But thischance was denied to him, and others went to the island, while theSheikh Burrachee and his men were posted in the steepest part, the verycitadel of this natural fortress.
To escape from there before the assault was obviously impossible. Up tothat time Harry had taken it for granted in his own mind that hiscountrymen would carry any position they chose, with more or less loss,and pass on, but he now began to fear that this one was reallyimpregnable. Parts of it were difficult to climb if unopposed, but withan enemy with a rifle in his hand behind every crag and boulder, itlooked simply impossible for any living thing to make the ascent. Nowfor the first time Harry Forsyth became an active hypocrite, for he hadonly been a passive one up to this. He busied himself about to select agood commanding spot in which to ensconce himself with his rifle with anenergy which delighted his uncle extremely. And so much was thought ofhis shooting that he was sure not to be interfered with.
"Not a man of them can ever pass the Rackabit el Gamel by water, andthey can as soon take these rocks as scale the heavens. Here thefreedom of the Soudan will be worked out; the authority of the Mahdiestablished!" exclaimed the sheikh. Rackabit el Gamel, or the Camel'sNeck, is the name of the gorge by Dulka Island.
When the sun rose on the tenth of February, eighteen hundred and eighty-five, Harry Forsyth, from his lofty position on the heights of Kirbekan,strained his eyes in the direction from which the British force wasexpected to come. Nothing yet; yes, those red ants, as they seem in thefar distance, what are they? And there were larger black ants in rearof them.
And now in the clearer light grey ants aligned with the red. The redants, had he known it, were the Black Watch, going into action in theirred coats and kilts; the grey were the men of the South StaffordshireRegiment; the large black ants in rear were the guns. He did not knowthese details, but he recognised English troops, not seen now for a longtime by him, and his heart beat high with excitement and hope. Now washis chance of escape. Unless he were killed during the assault, ortaken prisoner and shot before he had time to explain himself, he wouldsurely be able to get away in the confusion of fight. Even if theEnglish were repulsed, he could feign pursuit and so come up with them.
Suddenly he saw both red and grey masses scatter out from their centres,as they broke into extended order, and at the same time what he couldnow distinguish as cavalry swept round to the right. It was a beautifulsight. While he was gazing at it his uncle passed him in a state ofgreat enthusiasm.
He waved a rifle with his right-hand, and a banner, with texts from theKoran inscribed upon it, with his left, and cried, "They come! Theycome! The Lord hath delivered them into our hands at last!" And it waswith difficulty that he could restrain himself from forfeiting theadvantages of the strong position, and rushing down to meet theadvancing troops at once.
He had not long to restrain his impatience; the red and the grey linesswept into the base, and were among the boulders in a trice. Then thewhole mountain side seemed to burst forth into flame and smoke, and fromhis commanding position Harry could see that here and there an advancingfigure stopped, and came on no more, but dotted the ground with ascarlet or brown patch.
The scene would have resembled a holiday sham fight but for thosefigures which lay motionless, taking no further part, so orderly andregular was the advance. Presently the combat entered on a new phase.Unchecked by the storm of fire which had broken out upon them, theHighlanders and South Staffordshire pressed steadily on amongst therocks; when there was room they squeezed between them; when this couldnot be done they swarmed over them; still they pressed steadily on.Steadily, indeed, but slowly. Behind each rock there was an Arab, andwhen a soldier wriggled round it or swarmed over it, he found himselfengaged in a hand-to-hand conflict, in which, however, the bayonetgenerally proved victorious over sword or spear. It was mostmagnificent fighting; each individual man had to force his independentway in the face of a deadly fire from hidden foes, at whose covers hewent straight. If he were hit there was an end of his course; but, ifhe stood up, into the hiding-place where his foe lay concealed, he wasbound to go; and then, if he killed his man, as he mostly did, forwardsand upwards at another. There was no sense of support afforded by thetouch of comrades, and the being an item of a serried mass, as in thecase of the majority of the battles of the Soudan, fought in squareformation. Then there might be unsteady or pusillanimous soldiers,whose faults were hidden by their firmer comrades, from whose presenceand example they gained confidence; but at Kirbekan every soldier foughton his own account, as it were, and failure in courage or dash in anyindividual would have been at once perceptible. But there was no suchfailure, and the Black Watch and South Staffordshire fought as Britishsoldiers fought in the Peninsula, at Waterloo, at Alma, and at Inkerman.
Higher and higher they came, and the Arabs began to grow uncontrollablyexcited. The Sheikh Burrachee came to the post occupied by Harry, whoimmediately let loose his rifle at a fine rock near which there wasnobody. But he might have spared himself the trouble; his uncle nevernoticed him; he only came there because the spot afforded the best viewof a portion of the English advance.
"It is impossible!" he cried; "and yet there they are. Has Sheytangiven them charmed lives?" and he charged down, waving his banner, andcalling on his tribesmen to follow him and extirpate the infidels.
Harry saw him falter on the brow of a crag, stretch his arms wide, dropweapon and banner, and fall backwards. Forgetting everything else atthe sight, he ran down to him and raised his head.
He was quite dead.
"Poor Uncle Ralph! You were kind to me, and you loved my dear mother.Would that you had met with a better fate!" he said, as he turned away,and looked about for the means of escape.
There was no reason for further delay; the Arabs had too much to do tolook after themselves to notice him; and his uncle was dead!
Round the side of the rock he crept, keeping well under shelter, till hefound a side where no fight was raging, and here he clambered cautiouslydown into the plain, and made for that part of the Nile where he hadseen the English pontoons and boats.
After about an hour's cautious approach, he came near enough to hail thenearest sentry.
"I am an English prisoner, released by your attack!" he cried; and afterhis report of himself had been carefully heard by an officer, he wasreceived with welcome and eagerly questioned as to what he knew aboutthe progress of the fight.
"Most of the points had been carried when I made my escape," Harry said;"but I fear the loss has been very heavy."
Heavy indeed it proved when the full news came in! Colonel Eyre,commanding the South Staffordshire, fell at the head of his regiment atthe first onset; Colonel Green was killed at the hottest moment of thestruggle; and shortly afterwards General Earle, the commander of theexpedition himself, was shot dead from a stubbornly-defended building.
Harry
told his story, was examined, cross-examined, re-examined; for allhe had to say was most interesting, and very different from the meagreand often contradictory reports to be gleaned from natives. He toldthem of the force in Dulka Island. But they knew of that, and heeded itnot, finding no difficulty in shelling the Arabs there out of it withoutan attack.
The only thing he was reticent about was the story of his uncle. Poor,crack-brained visionary, he had gone to his account now, and what needwas there to recount his treasonable vagaries?
An old Harton boy is almost sure to find some mutual acquaintance in anygroup of English officers he may fall in with in any part of the world,and when at the evening meal he was chatting with his hospitableentertainers, Strachan's name happened to be mentioned.
"What, Tom Strachan, of the Blankshire?" he cried.
"That's the man!"
"Is his regiment in the Soudan?"
"No, but _he_ is. He is an active card, and volunteered to act on thestaff, and has done a good bit of galloping business. I think he isworking in the Transport now, at least he was when we heard last fromKorti."
From this and all else he could gather Korti was the place Harry now hadto try and make for, and he was soon once more on his travels down theriver.
We will not follow his footsteps, since he met with no adventures to becompared at all with those he had gone through. And very glad he was ofit, for the one thing he now dreaded most was delay.
He had not long been at Korti before he saw the very old friend he hadbeen asking after, and soon got an opportunity of speaking to him, busyas he seemed to be.
"Don't you know me?" he asked.
"Know you! Of course I do, just as if you were my brother; but just nowI forget whether it is tinned meats or bullocks. By Jove! Is itpossible! Harry Forsyth! And how are you, old fellow? One would thinkKorti was the centre of the world, for every fellow comes here. I say,who was to know you dressed up like that? Well, and what are you up to?Have you found that will yet?"
"Yes."
"Nonsense! And _got_ it?"
"Yes."
"You must tell me all about that. I was just going to get something toeat; come along and share it. You have fallen upon the right boy forgrub, I can tell you; I am in the provisioning department just for themoment, and there is no order against looking after number one."
"And you found your uncle who had turned wild man?" observed TomStrachan, as the two filled and lit their pipes after a capital repast.
"Yes, poor fellow!" answered Harry. "Without him I don't suppose Ishould have got the will."
"And where did you run your Egyptian clerk to earth?"
"At El Obeid, and we got it out of him with the kourbash."
"Of course; you know the cynical saying here. As Nature provides anantidote growing in the same district with every poison, all we have todo is to learn how to seek it. So when the Egyptian was placed on theNile the hippopotamus was created to provide whips to rule him with.But you must tell your story at greater length to-morrow morning to afriend of mine who is lying wounded here, waiting for a chance to betransported to Cairo. For I have a lot of things to see to; reports tomake out--you would never believe; and must run away presently."
Next morning Harry Forsyth called on Strachan at the time and placeappointed, and was taken by him to the hospital which had beenestablished near the banks of the river. They found the friend ofStrachan's they proposed to visit lying on a bamboo couch under anawning, over which again spread a palm-tree. There was a pleasant viewof the river and the country, and altogether it was as cheery a spot ascould have been selected.
There was a visitor already with the invalid: a soldier who was standingnear, his head leaning on his rifle.
"I tell ye what it is," he was saying; "I'll say nothing about fleshwounds and bullet wounds since it worries ye, but ye have the best luckof it to be wounded at all, in my thinking. Won't ye be getting out ofthis baste of a country at once, and shan't we poor beggars what's wholeand sound have to stop here and stew, and be ate up with the fliesentirely? I tell ye so long as ye aint crippled it's the best chance tobe a bit hurt, and get away, now there's no more fighting to be done.And they say there will perhaps be some real fun going on in India, outAfghanistan way, against the Rooshians; and we will be left here withthe flies and crocodiles. But here's the officer coming. I'll come andsee you again, when I'm off duty."
And Grady stepped briskly away, making the sling of his rifle _tell_with a smart salute, as he passed Strachan. And then Harry Forsythstepped up to the couch, and found himself looking on the drawn andpain-worn features of Reginald Kavanagh.
"I flatter myself that I have managed that with considerable dramatictalent," said Tom Strachan, as he stood looking at the two, holding eachother's hands in silence, and looking into each other's eyes.
"Yes," said Harry Forsyth, answering the question in the other's look;"I have found it, and it is here in my breast, all perfectly right."
"Yes, he has found it," echoed Strachan. "Where there's a will there'sa way, and the way in this instance was the kourbash. I hope the fellowgot it hot, Harry."
"Pretty fairly; I think Kavanagh would have been satisfied, though hehas been disappointed in his desire to wield the lash himself. Don'tyou remember?"
"Well, all you have got to do now," said Strachan to Kavanagh, "is toget back to England as quick as they will take you, purchase yourdischarge, and enjoy your _otium cum dignitate_."
"Thank you, sir; if you will kindly say a word for me it will help,"replied Kavanagh.
The little word _sir_ struck with strange harshness on Harry Forsyth'sears. But, of course, Kavanagh was but a full private, and Strachan wasan officer, if he came to think and realise it. He had been about tosay:
"Here we three chums have met at last, ever so many miles up the Nile,and I shall believe in presentiments as long as I live;" but he did notlike, after that word _sir_, to class his two old friends in the samecategory; it might make an awkwardness, he felt.
"I do not like the idea of quitting the service altogether," saidKavanagh.
"If we have this war with Russia they talk about, and I get well intime, and can qualify, I wonder if I shall have a chance of getting acommission. Surely it will not be so difficult as it was when I triedbefore, and I nearly qualified. I wonder whether my service in theranks would be allowed to count in any way."
"It very well might," said Strachan; "for there are all sorts of chancesgoing when good men are really wanted. If not, you must go back intothe old Militia Battalion of the Blankshire, as I mean to do when I amshelved; and then we shall get a chance of airing our medals, if theygive us any, for one month in the year at any rate."
"And what are your wounds, Kavanagh?" asked Harry presently.
"Sword cuts; one in the body is troublesome, but is getting better sinceI got away from camel back, though sometimes I feel down-hearted,progress is so slow."
"Oh, you must not give way to that sort of feeling," said Forsyth."Why, I lay senseless for months and months from a cut on the head; howlong I have no idea yet; I shall have to puzzle it out some day, but atpresent it is logarithms over again to think of it. I should certainlyhave died if it had not been for my dear old black nurse, Fatima, theloss of whom is the only thing I shall regret in leaving this part ofthe world. And if ever I come back, it will be to hunt her out and buyher."
"Fatima! Come, now for a touch of romance, Harry!" cried Strachan,laughing.
"Black as your Sunday hat in London; blubber lips, hair like coarsewool; feet like canoes, and the best heart in the world, and--there sheis!"
It was true enough; Fatima was searching about, looking for HarryForsyth, just like a dear, faithful old dog. Ever since the episode ofthe letter she had thought he wanted to go to his own people, and soughthow to aid him; after the fight at Kirbekan she lost him, and made herway down to Korti, as the best place, so far as she could learn, to gaintidings of any Englishman. The de
light she expressed on thusunexpectedly seeing him again was touching to a degree.
"You will have some one else to nurse now, Fatima," said Harry inArabic, pointing to Kavanagh.
"Your brother is my master; I will cure him!" she said, noddingcheerfully to Kavanagh, and showing her white teeth.
"I am afraid Fatima would want to be nurse and doctor all in one, as shewas with me," said Harry, "and that would hardly agree with discipline.But you might do worse than that, I can tell you. Meantime, what am Ito do with her, I wonder? Part from her willingly I never will. I tellyou, Kavanagh, you would never have had a chance of your money, if I hadnot fallen into her hands, after I fell for dead in the wilderness; forI should never have pulled through but for her. How astonished my dearold mother and sister will be when I bring them a black servant! Butshe will soon learn their ways."
"You are my good genius, Forsyth," said Kavanagh; "and if you will callon the Principal Medical Officer, and other great authorities, I have nodoubt you will be able to help me to get away the quicker."
"I should like to go home with you," said Forsyth, "and will if I can.Let us once get to Cairo, and I can raise any necessary money on thestrength of this," and he tapped the will on his chest.
"Would it be too great a presumption to ask to see this portentousdocument?" asked Strachan. "I own to feeling some curiosity about it."
"Not at all." And he unwound it from its wrappings and produced it.
"And because a rascal clerk ran away with that bit of parchment,Kavanagh had to enlist as a private, and you had to go wandering overthe world for years, leaving your mother and sister in poverty andanxiety!" said Tom Strachan, meditatively. "People are always talkingabout red tape in the army; surely there is still more of it in thelaw."
"Oh, yes, naturally one would expect that."
"Ah, well, I hope he got it hot; I _do_ hope he got it hot! I willintroduce you to all the people who can help you, Harry, but I must beoff just now."
Forsyth got every assistance from the authorities to take his woundedfriend away. And his old connection with Mr Williams and the Englishfirm at Cairo stood him in good stead; so that he reached Cairo, andembarked for England with Fatima and her patient sooner than he hadexpected.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
AT SHEEN.
The severity of the May of 1885 had at last abated, and the arrows onthe vanes proved that they had not got fixed by rust, as many suspected,in a north-easterly direction, by turning to the south and west, so thatthose inhabitants of Great Britain who had not succumbed to pneumoniawere able to let their fires out, open their windows, and enjoy out-of-door games with impunity.
Mrs Forsyth and Beatrice now reaped the benefit of their work in thegarden, for the tulips, the various _arias_ and _otises_ made theborders resplendent, while the delicious scent of the wallflowers wasalmost oppressive. The May blossom was full out on the hedge whichbounded the little domain, and the apple-trees in that part devoted tofruit and vegetables were one mass of pink and white.
Though still at Sheen, the Forsyths were not in their original cottage.When their fortunes changed for the better, Mrs Forsyth had moved intoa larger villa, with a verandah round it, and modest stabling, and anice lawn. And on this lawn white chalk lines were drawn, and a netfixed, on one side of which Beatrice Forsyth, racquet in hand, wasemployed in affording exercise for her brother Harry, who was on theother. He took the large court to her small court, and as she had aspecial talent for placing the balls, she made him run about rarely.The original layer out of that garden, who flourished before lawn-tenniswas invented, had perpetrated a prophetic pun by planting a service treeon one side of the ground, and under this sat Mrs Forsyth before agarden table which had wools and work-box on it, for she could not bearto sit idle. Not far from her, and still under the shade of the servicetree, was a lounging chair or couch of cane and wicker-work of the mostcomfortable description, with arms so broad and flat that you couldlodge books and papers upon them, and the right arm had a circularhollow to hold a tumbler.
In this chair reclined a good-looking young man, whose pale and delicatefeatures and thin hands told of recent illness, and together with acrimson scar across his face gave him that appearance which ladies callinteresting, the effect being heightened by the shawls and rugs whichwere strewn about him. Rice paper and a packet of Egyptian tobacco layon one of the arms of his couch, but it was only between the games thathe occasionally twiddled up a cigarette, so conscientiously did heattend to his duties as umpire.
"Vantage out," said Harry, who was serving. Beatrice returned the ballhigh, and very far back-indeed, and immediately cried--
"I think it was just in!"
"I think _not_," said Harry, grinning. "How was it, umpire?"
"Line ball!" said Kavanagh, who from his position could not possiblyhave seen.
"Game and set!" cried Trix, delighted, though as a matter of fact theball had fallen a foot beyond the base line, and they both came to thetree for a rest.
"I hope you will be able to play yourself soon," said Harry Forsyth.
"I could play now," replied Kavanagh; "my side does not hurt me a bitwhatever I do. It is only weakness that stops me, and I feel strongerevery morning."
"Then we shall have a four set without recourse to neighbours when MaryStrachan arrives," said Beatrice.
"Mary Strachan! Is she coming?" cried Kavanagh.
"Yes; mamma asked her, and she is to arrive early next week."
"That _will_ be jolly! We only want Tom too."
"I don't despair of seeing _him_ before the autumn," said Harry. "Iheard from him yesterday, and he thought he should come home when theGuards did. And if we kiss and make it up with the various folks we areat loggerheads with, I don't think there will be much more fighting foryou military parties to do."
"Who do you mean?" asked Kavanagh. "I am not a military person. I havegot my discharge, sir, and might pass the commander-in-chief himselfwithout saluting. Not that I would though, God bless him."
"Is it not time that you had your jelly and glass of port wine?"observed Mrs Forsyth.
"Not quite," said Harry; "Fatima would not let him miss it by a minute.I believe she sits watching the clock, now she has learned what thefigures mean, and why the hands go round."
"That is right; speak up for your slave," said Beatrice. "Anyimputation upon her punctuality might depreciate her market value."
"I would not sell her for her weight in gold, and that must be somethingtowards settling the National Debt," said Harry. "She nursed me backinto life, I know."
"I can never repay her," murmured Mrs Forsyth.
At that moment the object of conversation appeared with a tray in herhand, and a broad smile on her honest black face. She was robed inwhite, with a red shawl and a yellow handkerchief round her head. Theyhad tried to put her into a print gown and a mob cap, but she looked soqueer and was so uncomfortable that they let her choose her own costume.Nursing was certainly her strong point, and she tended Kavanagh ascarefully as if he had been a baby. Only she always thought it cold,and wanted to smother him with wraps.
It was no use resisting, so he had to put them away quietly when herback was turned.
"I shall have apoplexy if I am convalescent long," said Kavanagh,swallowing the last spoonful of his jelly. "I am eating and drinkinggood things the whole day long."
"But think of the privations you have to make up for," said MrsForsyth.
"Oh, mother, what a dear you are!" cried Harry. "Now I know why we haveasparagus every day for dinner! _Apropos_ of dinner, who do you thinkis coming to feed with us this evening, Kavanagh?"
"Invalids are excused guessing," said Kavanagh.
"Your old militia captain, Royce. He has got his majority now, by-the-by, and he is set upon having you back into the regiment."
Royce was punctual; and I propose to you a novelty in story endings.Let the curtain fall upon our friends as they are going in to dinner.
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THE END.