On the Road to Bagdad: A Story of Townshend's Gallant Advance on the Tigris

by F. S. Brereton

  CHAPTER XIV

  Captured by the Enemy

  It was with a shout of astonishment that Geoff realized that he andPhilip and Esbul were discovered. Giving a loud shout of warning, heflung himself against a figure bounding towards him, and, having no timeto seize his revolver, struck out wildly in the darkness, and the blowhe gave, delivered with all the force of which he was capable, meetingwith no greater resistance than the air, for it shot past the ear of theindividual at whom it was aimed, caused him to lose his balance and totopple over.

  "Ha! Infidel dog!"

  The man was down upon him in a moment, and, seizing Geoff's throat,pinned him to the ground, while, within an instant almost, our hero feltthe prick of the sharp-pointed dagger with which the man threatened totransfix him. The sudden pain it caused sent a sickly chill all over hisbody, and then stimulated him to action.

  "Get off!" he roared, and, jerking himself over, swiftly had the manbeneath him. Then, holding the arm which wielded the weapon, he dealtthe man a furious blow between the eyes, and, shaking himself free,leapt to the assistance of Philip.

  "Coming!" he shouted, hearing his chum gasp and seeing his figureindistinctly in the darkness. And then he went down again, for one ofthe band of Turks who had crept so silently towards the three figureswatching their camp, leapt upon his shoulders and bore him, nose down,to the sand.

  "Infidel dog!" he heard again hissed into his ear. "Move, and I strikelife out of you. Move, utter a word, and I slit your throat from ear toear."

  It was not very pleasant; indeed, a sharp stab of pain in the region ofhis shoulder-blade sent another chill down Geoff's spine, and, togetherwith the increased weight which now held him so firmly to the sand,helped to discourage further efforts. He was cornered, he knew; commonsense told him that there were many of the enemy about, that quite halfa dozen of them were already seated upon his body, his legs, and hisarms, that further resistance was useless, was madness in fact, andcould end in only one way--in sudden death for himself and Philip andEsbul.

  "Right!" he gasped, spluttering and blowing the sand out of his mouth."We surrender!"

  "Ah! the dog speaks Turkish, eh! Pull him to his feet; let us see him."

  It was another voice that spoke, the voice of a Turkish officer, and atonce those six lusty individuals who had thrown themselves on Geoff, andwho had almost squeezed the life out of him, jerked him to his feet andheld him in an erect position. Had they not done so, indeed, he wouldhave stumbled and fallen, for, though the contest had been but a shortone, the struggle, whilst it lasted, had been terrific: the efforts hehad made to throw off those men, his kicks and plunges, and the blows hehad endeavoured to aim had taken it out of Geoff in the most startlingmanner. He was gasping for breath now, sweat was pouring from his face,whilst his knees shook and refused to support him.

  "So, infidel dog, you are one of the British who have dared to invadeour country!"

  A dusky figure seemed to rise up in front of Geoff, and, approachingquite close to him, thrust a heavily-moustached face close to his andpeered at him in the darkness. So close indeed was the man that hisbreath blew on Geoff's face, and, acting as a tonic as it were, almoststimulated him to further action. But again discretion, common sense,told him that to renew the struggle would be futile. "Better wait tillanother time," he told himself, gasping in the face of the Turkishofficer--spluttering, indeed, for still sand remained in his mouth,whilst his nostrils were tickled with the same material. "Better waitfor a while and try our chances in a different manner. There's Philip!"

  Men were approaching from a point but a few feet away, their figuresstanding out against the reflection of the camp-fires dotting theTurkish position, and in amongst them was Geoff's chum, held firmly bythe arms, his head pushed forward by a brawny individual who gripped thenape of his neck, and his legs already encumbered by a rope which hadbeen passed loosely round them.

  "So, a British officer. Ah!"

  "A British officer. Yes!" Geoff admitted between his gasps.

  "And one who speaks Turkish, eh?" the man who accosted him demanded.

  "That is so."

  "Then how?" asked the Turkish officer. "Where did you learn to speak ourtongue? You are British, you say, and few there are of that nation whospeak our language. Then how? Where? When did you learn it?"

  "One moment; let me sit down for a while," said Geoff, panting soheavily that he could hardly make the request. "In a little while I willanswer any reasonable question that you may put before me, and in themeantime you need have little fear; for see, there are perhaps twenty orthirty men here to support you."

  A grim, harsh chuckle came from the Turkish officer, and yet a laughwhich was not altogether disagreeable. If he had been a German officer,no doubt he would have stormed and raved, and might even have suggestedshooting his prisoners on the spot, so as to get rid of them; but, beinga Turk--and Turkish soldiers, whether they be officers or fighting-men,have ever proved themselves to be possessed of gentlemanly feelings--andbeing moreover satisfied that the three prisoners he had captured werecompletely in his hands, this Turk was by no means ill-pleased, was, infact, in quite a genial humour, and, if the truth be told, rathercurious as to the prisoner who spoke his language.

  "Sit down," he said. "Now give me your word that you will not attempt toescape, and I'll tell my men to stand away and to give youbreathing-space."

  Seating himself upon the sand, in fact helped in the movement by the manwho had been holding him, Geoff remained for a while panting heavily,while his guard, at a sharp order from the Turkish officer, steppedaside and remained at some distance. Then Philip and Esbul were broughtalong by the men who had captured them, and were allowed to seatthemselves beside him.

  "Now," said the Turkish officer, after a while, when he was satisfiedthat his prisoners were rested, "your promise. Say that you will make noattempt at escape, and you shall march back to camp at my side asfriends, as you will, not as prisoners; only, when you arrive there, itwill be my duty to hand you over to the guard, and you must take theconsequences of your visit here this evening."

  "We promise!" Geoff told him promptly.

  "Then that is sufficient. Listen, my friend! Though I command adetachment of Turkish troops down in this part of the world--thisterrible quarter, where there is nothing but sand and marsh andwater--yet I am from Constantinople, and, unlike many other Turks, Ihave travelled somewhat. Thus it happens to have been my fortune to havemet many peoples, and amongst them men of your country. Always I haveheard that an Englishman's word is his bond. My friend, you have givenyour word, and that is quite sufficient."

  He showed his friendly spirit within a moment, for, diving a hand into apocket of his tunic, the officer produced a cigarette-case, and handedit in turn to each of his prisoners; and then, as they sat on there, onthe sandy ridge above the twinkling camp-fires dotting the hollow belowthem, this Turk became quite communicative, as friendly as one couldwish, chatted with Geoff as if he were an old friend, one with whom hewas well acquainted.

  "Come!" he said encouragingly. "Be not so close, be as frank and asfriendly as I am, for let me tell you that I am more than interested inyou, for, as I said before, how many of your nation are there who canspeak our language? And you, you speak it as a native almost--fluently,glibly, with the tone and accent of an educated gentleman. That you arean officer I know, indeed I knew it from the moment of your capture. Nowtell me how it came about that you learnt our tongue."

  There was no doubt about his earnestness, nor about the fact that hiscuriosity was purely friendly; quite frankly, therefore, withholdingnothing, Geoff told him how he had once, not so very long ago, visitedMesopotamia, and how his travels had taken him as far as Constantinople.

  "I have a guardian," he told the Turkish officer, "a British officer,one who for many years has taken the place of my dead father. He it waswho brought me to this country, who led me by the Tigris to Bagdad, andwith whom I sat in many an Arab camp making friends with the natives."
/>
  "Wait! A British officer who led you to Bagdad! Who lived as a friendwith Arabs! But surely," said the Turk, "there is but one Britishofficer who could have done that, one with whom I am well acquainted.Had it been a German now, there would be a host of them, though it islittle friends they are of the Arabs inhabiting these deserts; but thisman, listen my friend, I will give you his name--Douglas Pasha, eh?"

  "The same," Geoff admitted.

  There was a long pause after that while the Turk slowly puffed at hiscigarette, the glowing end showing his features for a few brief seconds,and then dying down between the puffs till it was only possible to makeout the dull outline of his figure. No doubt he was thinking hard,thinking furiously, for a Turk, while he puffed clouds of smoke into thedusk around him.

  "So," he said at last, giving vent to a low-pitched whistle, "you areDouglas Pasha's ward--and Douglas Pasha is an old friend of mine, one towhom I am much beholden. Well, it is the fortune of war, my friend. Thefortune, or shall we say for a moment, while there are none to overhearus, yes, the misfortune? For see the dilemma in which I am placed. As aloyal Turk I have taken steps to make you a captive, you, who werediscovered in the act of watching our camp and making a reconnaissance.As a loyal Turk I have made captive the ward of one whom I admit myfriend, one whom I would go far to help, and whose esteem is of value tome. Yet, see the dilemma in which I am placed. This I have done as aloyal man, and one who does his utmost for his country; though all thewhile I know that it is not my country for which I fight, but that YoungTurk Party which, alas! controls its destiny. Listen! There are none tohear us, and therefore I can speak the words. Had the Sultan been ableto control the affairs of our nation, there would have been no war withRussia, no war with our ancient friends the British, no alliance withthese hated Germans. There! I have said enough. Let us walk as friendsas far as our Head-quarters, and after that, well after that you passout of my hands, though Tewfic Pasha will think of you kindly, and maybemight help you on some occasion."

  Truly the adventure which had befallen Geoff and Philip and Esbul wasturning out to be as strange as it had been sudden and unexpected; forhere, captives in the hands of the enemy, they were yet friends alreadywith at least one of them, while Geoff had discovered in this Turkishofficer one who in other times would have gone out of his way to behelpful, considerate, and friendly. But Turkey was at war with Britain,and whatever Tewfic Pasha's private feelings may have been towards ourcountry he had a duty to perform, like every other loyal man; and Geoff,realizing that fact, honoured him the more when at length he gave asharp order and called his men about them.

  "You'll fall in round the prisoners, allowing them to march freely," hesaid. "When we reach the centre of the camp two of you will attachyourselves to each of these three men, and will escort them toHead-quarters. But listen, ye dogs! No violence, no brutal treatment,for these young men have behaved most gallantly, have fought for theirfreedom, and now, having lost to us, who are the more numerous, arecontent with their lot, are cheerful, and are facing the future withcourage."

  "After all, things might have been worse," chirped Philip, as the triomarched along in the centre of their escort, the officer now at the headof his men. "Quarter of an hour ago I thought my last moment had come,particularly when one of these fellows round us indicated to me in themost unpleasant manner that he was armed with a knife, and was longingto push it through me. Ugh!"

  He gave vent to an exaggerated grunt of horror, which set Geoffgiggling, for it reminded him of his own feelings, of that cold shiverwhich had gone down his spine, of the extraordinary indescribableshudder which had shaken him from head to foot, and which, courageousthough he hoped he had been, had set his limbs trembling.

  "Jolly nasty!" he said, sympathizing with his chum immediately. "I hadthe same sort of experience, and it isn't nice, particularly on a darknight, and when it comes so unexpectedly. But we've been wonderfullylucky when you come to think of it--though it's awfully unfortunate thatwe should have been captured--for this officer in charge of the partyactually knows Major Douglas, and if it weren't war-time I believe hewould himself see us to a place of safety."

  "And might even now look the other way if there was a chance of ourescaping," suggested Phil.

  "No, decidedly no!" Geoff answered. "He's loyal to the core, thisTurkish officer, unlike so many of them."

  "Then what's to be done?" asked Phil. "You don't mean to tell me thatyou are going to allow yourself to be taken as a prisoner, say, into theinterior of the country, and give up all hope of joining the otherfellows?"

  Geoff laughed, a gruff, determined sort of laugh, which sounded ratherimpressive in the darkness. There was a note of satire in it too, a noteseldom indulged in by our hero.

  "Sorry that's the impression you've got of me after all these months,"he told Philip curtly. "Sorry you think I'm so soft, so lacking inspirit, as to give up just because I am captured. What about that tripwe proposed which was to carry us to Bagdad, and was to allow us to makea search for Major Douglas?"

  A sudden exclamation escaped from Philip's lips, and, diving at Geoff'sarm, he gripped the wrist with a suddenness which was almostdisconcerting:

  "And--and, why not?" he said in a hoarse whisper, "why not? Aren't wenow away from the expedition, aren't we more in the heart of Mesopotamiathan ever we were before? Just think for a moment, and suppose you hadgone off on that expedition that you've been planning, that you've beendreaming about every day and night since that letter came from yourguardian. Supposing you'd slipped away from the British camp and had gotbehind the enemy's lines: where's the difference?"

  Geoff brought his eloquence and enthusiasm to a somewhat sudden end bygiving him a disagreeable reminder.

  "Difference! Difference!" he remarked caustically. "Only this, thatwhereas, in that case, we should be behind their lines, but free; inthis, we are in the midst of their lines, not free, but captives."

  But you could not damp Phil's ardour or his spirits however much coldwater you threw upon them. He gurgled for a while, gasped rather loudly,and took to whistling. Then, when they had covered perhaps a hundredyards, he again opened the subject; indeed, he proceeded with thediscussion as though it had never been broken off, as if there had beenno such thing as an interruption.

  "Well," he said testily. "Well, who wants to be told that sort of thing?Don't I know just as well as you do that the case ain't quite the same,that we are prisoners and in the enemy's lines, instead of being freeand behind them? But it's near enough, surely. A chap has only got toescape from these fellows who have bagged us, and--and--and there youare!"

  "And--and--there you are!" laughed Geoff, catching his enthusiasminstantly; indeed, our hero had already been thinking furiously as tohow he and his friends were to circumvent this difficult position inwhich they found themselves, and to shake off the hold which the Turkshad cast upon them. And why, as Philip said, if only they could maketheir escape, seeing that they would then presumably be behind the linesof the enemy, why should they not turn their faces towards Bagdad, andgo on with the rescue of Douglas Pasha.

  "Jingo! We'll do it," he told his friend.

  "You--you--you consent? You think it's possible?" asked Phil, his voiceeager, his face lit up--though, to be sure, it could not be seen becauseof the darkness.

  "Hush! We're in the centre of the camp, and the guard is closing in onus," Geoff warned him. "But, just a last word in case we are separated,I am going to do my best to escape, and if I succeed, and can get youand Esbul free also, I am off for Bagdad."

  "Done, with you! Shake hands on it!" cried Phil, gripping his chum'spalm and shaking it warmly. "Ripping! The thought of such an expeditionmakes up for this ghastly business; perhaps to-night we'll do it,perhaps to-morrow, and--and--well, you can rely on me standing by you,old fellow. If they separate us, and the chance comes to me to slip mycable, you know, don't you, Geoff, that I'll stand by until I get youand Esbul out, so as to complete the party?"

  There was no time for
Geoff to make a reply, no time to thank his chumfor an expression of loyalty which was just like him, for the guard hadalready closed in, men were gripping their arms on either side, while,despite the caution of Tewfic Pasha, one at least of the men showedlittle love for the captives.

  "Dog," he whispered in Geoff's ear, "you infidel who speak our language,be silent, or I will screw the head from your body."

  "Unpleasant fellow," muttered Geoff, yet smiling serenely, for he knewwell enough that a call to Tewfic Pasha would relieve him of thisthreatening fellow's attentions. "Ah! That appears to be the TurkishHead-quarters."

  It was lighter now that they had arrived at what appeared to be thecentre of the Turkish concentration; for numerous camp-fires were dottedabout the place, lighting up the surroundings with their reflection, andindeed making the outer darkness even denser, even more impenetrable.There loomed up now in front of them a row of tents, one larger than theothers, over which a flag could be heard fluttering in the breeze,though its folds could not be seen so easily. There were lamps burningin the tent, and towards it the guard escorted their prisoners.

  "Halt!" commanded Tewfic Pasha, and then entered the tent.

  "Master," whispered Esbul at that moment, taking advantage of the factthat the guard had released their grip of their prisoners, and were nowstanding at attention dressed in two lines, one in front and one behindtheir captives. "Master, let me say a word in your ear while there istime. Listen! I am an Armenian."

  It was a fact of which Geoff was thoroughly well aware, and yet a factthe seriousness of which had not struck him till that moment.

  "An Armenian! An Armenian, yes!" he said, speaking his thoughts in awhisper; "and the Turks have no love for that nation."

  "Love, Excellency!" exclaimed Esbul, with a bitterness which was strangeto him. "Love, my master! Of a truth, where the Armenian race isconcerned, the Turk has nothing but bitterness and hatred to show. Youhave heard maybe of their doings in past years?"

  "I have," Geoff said consolingly.

  "How these Turkish fiends massacred our people, how they hate us perhapsbecause we are Christians, and how they have done their utmost toexterminate us, to grind us under their heel, to rid this land of Turkeyof us."

  "I have heard the tale," Geoff told him sadly enough, for for many yearsthe massacre of unfortunate and helpless Armenians in Turkey had beencarried out by the Sultan's people, and had more than once roused thebitter anger of peoples in Europe. Yet who could control the Turk in thecentre of his own country? What nation could prevent the Sultan fromwreaking his fiendish hate upon these people? And now that this giganticwar had broken out, and Turkey had declared herself in favour of theGermans, who could prevent the agents of the Kaiser, those sinisterindividuals, from persuading the Young Turk Party once more to commencetheir hideous work in the neighbourhood of Erzerum and the CaucasusMountains? Already, urged on by those satellites of the Kaiser--thoseruthless individuals, possessed of as little mercy as their fellows inEurope--massacres of the Armenians had once again begun, and ere theywere finished were to account for almost a million of these miserable,unfortunate individuals. No wonder Esbul was trembling--Esbul, theArmenian, the faithful servant who had followed Douglas Pasha into theheart of Mesopotamia, and who had borne that message to our hero.

  "Master," he said again, making violent efforts to control his words,"for you, who are a prisoner, and for your comrade, things may be wellenough, for at heart the Turk is kindly disposed, and thinks well of theBritish, but for me, an Armenian, what is there to hope for?"

  "What indeed?" Geoff sighed, when he grasped the full import of whatEsbul had been saying. For he knew well enough the hardships of theArmenian race, and was well acquainted with the fact that the Turkshated, despised, and tortured them. Were, then, these captors of theirslikely to treat Esbul leniently once they discovered that one of thetrio they had laid their hands on was an Armenian? Would they treat himas an honoured captive?--as Geoff hoped would be the case with Philipand himself. Or would they drag him aside, stand him out in the open,and shoot him like a dog?--the treatment they were meting out to hisbrothers.

  "Listen!" he told him. "Listen, Esbul; you must go, you must go now; youmust slip away; you must never let them see you! Wait! I will fall tothe ground and feign illness, which will create a disturbance. Go then,take advantage of the opportunity; and, later, when you are free, andperhaps have reached Bagdad, look out for me and my comrade, and searchfor the whereabouts of Douglas Pasha."

  He pressed the hand of the faithful fellow, and then, coughingviolently, suddenly fell to the ground and writhed there, rolling fromside to side, groaning and creating as much noise and fuss as waspossible. At once Philip leapt to his side, kneeling on the ground andbending over him.

  "What's the matter?" he asked distractedly, for he was thoroughlystartled by this strange occurrence.

  "Shut up!" Geoff told him. "I'm shamming. I'll tell you why later."

  "What ails the dog? Come, what has happened to him?"

  Turks in the rear rank, drawn up behind the captives and nearest tothem, had darted forward almost at once as Geoff fell to the ground, andnow one of them bent over him and gripped him by the shoulder, while hebawled into his ear. A second later a figure darted from the tent--thefigure of Tewfic Pasha--and, pushing men of the front rank asideunceremoniously, came upon the scene.

  "Hold your tongue!" he commanded the man shouting at Geoff. "What hashappened? Ah! This officer is ill. Carry him into the tent, two of youidle fellows."

  Picking their burden up, the men bore him into the tent, illuminated byswinging oil-lamps, while Philip followed unbidden.

  "And the third?" asked Tewfic Pasha, casting his eyes upon Geoff andPhilip, and seeing them clearly for the first time since he and his menhad laid hold of them. "The third, that other fellow; where is he?"

  Yes, where? There was a hue and cry outside: men were rushing to andfro, shouting and bellowing at one another, while a couple of the guardwere speeding across the camp calling a warning to the sentries. ForEsbul had disappeared. He had been at Geoff's side just a second beforehe tumbled, and those men in the rear rank of the Turkish guard couldhave sworn that he had knelt beside his comrade and had bent over him;and yet--and yet the darkness had swallowed him up; he had gone, slippedaway like a will-o'-the-wisp, and no one had caught sight of him.Meanwhile Geoff had made a reasonably rapid recovery, and stood nowbeside Philip, swaying just a little--for he had to act the part--hisface flushed just a trifle after his exertions, his breath coming inpanting grunts.

  "I'm sorry," he told Tewfic Pasha; "but the thing is over now; merely aspasm, a sudden dizziness, perhaps produced by those lusty fellows ofyours who sat so heavily on me."

  "And the promise you made has been kept," Tewfic smiled back at him,indeed his eyes twinkled--twinkled knowingly. "You gave me your wordthat you and your comrades would march towards this spot withoutattempting an escape, and when my guards laid their hands on you, withinsight of this tent, and marched you forward, you were absolved of yourpromise. Listen!" he whispered in Geoff's ear a moment or so later, whenhe had an opportunity. "It is as well, my friend; it is just as well,for that other man was not of your country. Maybe he was of ours, maybehe was an Armenian."

  The bright friendly eyes of the Turkish officer twinkled again, and asmile lit up his face, then, turning away, he accosted a Turk whoapproached at that moment from an ante-room erected behind this tent,which served as the Head-quarters of the Turkish Concentration.

  "Prisoners, Excellency!" he said. "We captured three of them on theridge, and doubtless they are scouts of an enemy party coming in thisdirection. They are British officers, Excellency, and once they werecaptured have behaved well and quietly. I have given them your word--theword of a man of honour--that they shall be well and kindly treated."

  As a matter of fact, Geoff and Phil had no cause to complain of thetreatment meted out to them, for, as we have said before, the Turks hadalready given many an illustration of
the fact that they were both goodand stanch soldiers and most excellent fellows. Once the fighting wasdone, once they had made captives or been captured, they forgot theirenmity, and in the case of those they had made prisoners, treated themlike human beings.

  "You are to be sent up the Kut-el-Hai to the Tigris," said Tewfic Pasha,when the General in Command of the Turkish Concentration had inspectedthe prisoners and had cross-examined them. "I am commanded to see thatquarters are found for you, and that you are given food and clothing.You will start on your journey to-morrow."

  The following morning, in fact, at an early hour, found the two youngofficers aboard a small steam-launch, which at once set out forKut-el-Amara. Arriving at that place on the River Tigris some three dayslater, they transhipped to a larger vessel, a paddle-steamer--as rustyand dilapidated as any of those which had come to the Shatt-el-Arab fromIndia for service with the British. Then they were carried up thewinding Tigris, and in due course, after days of twisting and turningalong the numerous bends of the river, after running aground onsand-banks on many occasions, they reached at last the city ofBagdad--the Mecca of the Turks of Eastern Turkey and of the Arabs ofMesopotamia--and there, having been interrogated again by a Turkishofficer, they were sent to a prison--a fort outside the city--theclanging gates of which shut on them with a force and a jar which, inspite of their buoyant spirits, sent a chill of despair through them.

  "Nasty strong sort of a place," Philip whispered to his chum, as theypassed under a low flat roof and along a stone passage. "No picking ahole through these walls with a penknife, my boy. It will have to be acase of strategy."

  Geoff looked round him, for the bright sunlight outside sent slantingrays into the passage and lit up their surroundings.

  "Beastly strong place," he agreed with Philip; "built of stone, andevery piece set close to the other. But we'll see, Phil; the cage that'sto hold the two of us will have to be a pretty strong one, for I'll tellyou this, I've made up my mind that I'll break out of this place, andcarry on that little business."

  "Douglas Pasha, eh?" asked Phil.

  "Of course. Ah! The fellow's opening a door, and in we go! A cell bigenough for the two of us! My word! Breaking out will take a lot ofdoing."