by Talbot Mundy
“Now damn your ankle,” he said. “Try to forget it! Climb up there and tell Fred to choose a hundred men and bring them down himself to oppose the enemy in front if he comes over the top of that ditch. Then you gallop back and get word to Rustum Khan to bring both squadrons down here. Tell him to stay by Fred and hold his horses until the last minute. Then you get all the women you can persuade to follow you, and man the castle walls! Hurry, now — that’s all!”
There was a man holding my horse. I tied the horse securely to a tree instead, and told the man to help me climb, little suspecting what a Samson I had happened on. He laughed, seized me in his arms, and proceeded to carry me like a baby up the goat-track leading to the hidden rifle-pits and trenches. I persuaded him to let me get up on his shoulders, and in that way I had a view of most of what was happening.
Monty led his men and women at a run across the top of the ramp flanked by the full fire of the entrenched company below; and his action was so unexpected that the Turks fired like beginners. There were not many bodies lying quiet, nor writhing either when the last woman had disappeared among the trees on the far side. Those that did writhe were very swiftly caused to cease by volleys aimed at them in obedience to officers’ orders. It began to look as if Gloria’s hospital would not be over-worked.
The tables were now turned on the Turks, except in regard to numbers. In the first place, as soon as Monty’s command had penetrated downward through the trees parallel with the side of the ramp, he had the entrenched company in flank. It did not seem to me that he left more than ten or fifteen men to make that trench untenable, but the Turks were out of it within five minutes and in full retreat under a hot fire from Fred’s men.
Then Monty pushed on to the far side of the castle road and held the remaining fringe of trees in such fashion that the Turks could not guess his exact whereabouts nor what number he had with him. Cutting down trees in a hurry is one thing, but cutting them down in face of hidden rifle-fire is most decidedly another, especially when the axmen have been promised there will be no reprisals.
The tree-felling suddenly ceased, and there began a close-quarters battle in the woods, in which numbers had less effect than knowledge of the ground and bravery. The Turk is a brave enough fighter, but not to be compared with mountain-Armenians fighting for their home, and it was easy to judge which held the upper hand.
I found Fred smoking his pipe and enjoying himself hugely, with half a dozen runners ready to carry word to whichever section of the defenses seemed to him to need counsel. He could see what Monty had done, and was in great spirits in consequence.
“I’ve bagged two Turk officers to my own gun,” he announced. “Murder suits me to a T.”
I gave him the message.
“Piffle!” he answered. “They can never take the ramp by frontal attack! The right thing to do is hold the flanks, and wither ’em as they cone!”
“Monty’s orders!” I said, “and I’ve got to be going.”
“Damn that fellow Didums!” he grumbled. “All right. But it’s my belief he’s turning a classy little engagement into a bloody brawl! Cut along! I’ll pick my hundred and climb down there.”
Cutting along was not so easy. My magnificent human mount was hit by a bullet — a stray one, probably, shot at a hazard at long range. He fell and threw me head-long; and the agony of that experience pretty nearly rendered me unconscious. However, he was not hit badly, and essayed to pick me up again. I refused that, but he held on to me and, both of us being hurt in the leg on the same side, we staggered together down the goat-track.
Down below we found the horse plunging in a frenzy of fear, and he nearly succeeded in breaking away from both of us, dragging us out into full view of the enemy, who volleyed us at long range. Fortunately they made rotten shooting, and one ill-directed hail of lead screamed on the far side, causing the horse to plunge toward me. The Armenian took me by the uninjured foot and flung me into the saddle, and I left up-pass with a parting volley scattering all around, and both hands locked into the horse’s mane. He needed neither whip nor spur, but went for Zeitoon like the devil with his tail on fire.
I suppose one never grows really used to pain, but from use it becomes endurable. When Anna ran out to stop me by the great rock on which the lowest Zeitoon houses stand, and seized me by the foot, partly to show deference, partly in token that she was suppliant, and also partly because she was utterly distracted, I was able to rein the horse and listen to her without swearing.
“She is gone!” she shouted. “Gone, I tell you! Gloria is gone! Six men, they come and take her! She is resisting, oh, so hard — and they throw a sack over her — and she is gone, I tell you! She is gone!”
“Where is Maga?”
“Gone, too!”
“In which direction did they take Miss Gloria?”
“I do not know!”
I rode on. There were crowds of women near the bridge, all armed with rifles, and I hurried toward them.
But they refused to believe that any one in Zeitoon would do such a thing as kidnap Gloria, and while I waited for Anna to come and convince them a man forced himself toward me through the crowd. He was out of breath. One arm was in a bloody bandage, but in the other hand he held a stained and crumpled letter.
It proved to be from Will, addressed to all or any of us.
“Kagig is a wonder!” it ran, “He has put new life into these men and we’ve thrashed the Turk soundly. How’s Gloria? Kagig says, ‘Can you send us reenforcements?’ If so we can follow up and do some real damage. Send ’em quick! Make Gloria keep cover! WILL.
Chapter Twenty “So few against so many! I see death, and I am not sorry!”
THOU LAND OF THE GLAD HAND
Thou land of the Glad Hand, whose frequent boast
Is of the hordes to whom thou playest host!
Whose liberty is full! whose standard high
Has reached and taken stars from out the sky!
Whose fair-faced women tread the streets unveiled,
Unchallenged, unaffronted, unassailed!
Whose little ones in park and meadow laugh,
Nor know what cost that precious cup they quaff,
Nor pay in stripes and bruises and regret
Ten times each total of a parent’s debt!
Thou nation born in freedom — land of kings
Whose laws protect the very feathered things,
Uplifting last and least to high estate
That none be overlooked — and none too great!
Is all thy freedom good for thee alone?
Is earth thy footstool? Are the clouds thy throne?
Shall other peoples reach thy hand to take
That gladdens only thee for thine own sake?
To get word to Rustum Khan was simple enough, for he himself came riding down to get news. The minute he learned what Monty wanted of him he turned his horse back up-hill at a steady lope, and I began on the next item in the program.
Nor was that difficult. The reading aloud of Will’s letter, translated to them by Anna, convinced the women that their beloved bridge was in no immediate danger, and no less than three hundred of them marched off to reenforce Kagig’s men behind Beirut Dagh. I reckoned that by the time they reached the scene of action we would have a few more than three thousand men and women in the field under arms — against Mahmoud Bey’s thirty thousand Turks!
There remained to scrape together as many as possible to man the castle walls; and what with wounded, and middle-aged women, and men whose weapons did not fit the plundered Turkish ammunition, I had more than a hundred volunteers in no time. The only disturbing feature about this new command of mine was that it contained more than a sprinkling of the type of malcontents who had bearded Kagig in his den the night before. Those looked like thoroughly excellent fighting men, if only they could have been persuaded to agree to trust a common leader.
Not one of them but knew a thousand times more of Zeitoon, and their people, and the vari
ous needs of defense than, for instance, I did. Yet they clustered about me for lack of confidence in one another, and shouted after the women who marched away advice to watch lest Kagig betray them all. Not for nothing had the unspeakable Turk inculcated theories of misrule all down the centuries!
I led them up to the castle, they carrying with them food enough for several days. We passed Rustum Khan coming down with the horsemen, and I fell behind to have word with him.
“Which of these men shall I pick to command the rest?” I asked him.
“You’ve more experience of them.”
“Any that you choose will be pounced on by the rest as wolves devour a sheep!” the Rajput answered.
“Should I have them vote on it?”
“They would elect you,” he answered.
“I’ve got to be free to look for Miss Gloria. She’s kidnapped — disappeared utterly!”
Rustum Khan swore under his breath, using a language that I knew no word of.
“A woman again, and more trouble!” he said at last grimly. “Let like cure like then! Choose a woman herdsman!” he grinned. “It may be she will surprise them into obedience!”
“I’ll take your advice,” said I, although I resented his insinuation that they were a herd — so swiftly does command make partisans.
“The last thing you may take from me, sahib!” he answered.
“How so?”
“So few against so many! I see death and I am not sorry. Only may
I die leading those good mountain-men of mine!”
It was part and parcel of him to praise those he had drilled and scorn the others. I shook hands and said nothing. It did not seem my place to contradict him.
“Let us hope these people are the gainers by our finish!” he called over his shoulder, riding on after his command. “They are not at all bad people — only un-drilled, and a little too used to the ways of the Turk! Good-by, sahib!”
Within the castle gate I found a woman, whom they all addressed as Marie, very busy sorting out the bundles they had thrown against the wall. She was putting all the food together into a common fund, and as I entered she shouted to her own nominees among the other women to get their cooking pots and begin business.
Still pondering Rustum Khan’s advice, in the dark whether or not be meant it seriously, I chose Marie Chandrian to take command. She made no bones about it, but accepted with a great shrill laugh that the rest of them seemed to recognize — and to respect for old acquaintance’ sake. She turned out to have her husband with her — an enormous, hairy man with a bull’s voice who ought to have been in one or other of the firing-lines but had probably held back in obedience to his better half. She made him her orderly at once, and it was not long before every soul in the castle had his or her place to hold.
Then I mounted once more and rode at top speed down the new road that Monty was defending, taking another horse this time, not so good, but much less afraid of the din of battle.
I found Monty scarcely fifty paces from the track, on the outside edge of the fringe of trees that the Turks had been unable to cut down. There were numbers of wounded laid out on the track itself, with none to carry them away; and the Turks were keeping up a hot fire from behind the shelter of the felled trees and standing stumps. The outside range was two hundred yards, and there were several platoons of the enemy who had crept up to within thirty or forty yards and could not be dislodged.
I pulled Monty backward, for he could not hear me, and he and I stood behind two trees while I told him what I had done, shouting into his ear.
“I’ve got to go and find Gloria!” I said finally, and he frowned, and nodded.
“Go first and take a look at the ramp through the trees. Tell me what’s happening.”
So I limped down to the end of the track and made my way cautiously through the lower fringe of trees that had been cut three-parts through in readiness for felling in a hurry. Just as I got there the Turks began a new massed advance up the ramp, as if in direct proof of Monty’s mental alertness.
The men posted on the opposite flank to where I was opened a terrific fire that would have made poor Kagig bite his lips in fear for the waning ammunition. Then Fred came into action with his hundred, throwing them in line into the open along the top, where they lay down to squander cartridges — squandering to some purpose, however, for the Turkish lines checked and reeled.
But Mahmoud Bey had evidently given orders that this advance should be pressed home, and the Turks came on, company after company, in succeeding waves of men. There were some in front with picks and shovels, making rough steps in the slippery clay; and I groaned, hating to go and tell Monty that it was only a matter of minutes before the frontal attack must succeed and the pass be in enemy hands.
“Here goes Armenia’s last chance!” I thought; and I waited to see the beginning of the end before limping back to Monty.
And it was well I did wait. I had actually forgotten Rustum Khan and his two squadrons. Nor would I ever have believed without seeing it that one lone man could so inspirit and control that number of aliens whom he had only as much as drilled a time or two. It said as much for the Zeitoonli as for Rustum Khan. Without the very ultimate of bravery, good faith, and intelligence on their part he could never have come near attempting what he did.
He brought his two squadrons in line together suddenly over the brow of the ramp, galloped them forward between Fred’s extended riflemen, and charged down-hill, the horses checking as they felt the slippery clay under foot and then, unable to pull up, careering head-long, urged by their riders into madder and madder speed, with Rustum Khan on his beautiful bay mare several lengths in the lead.
Cavalry usually starts at a walk, then trots, and only gains its great momentum within a few yards of the enemy. This cavalry started at top speed, and never lost it until it buried itself into the advancing Turks as an avalanche bursts into a forest! No human enemy could ever have withstood that charge. Many of the horses fell in the first fifty yards, and none of these were able to regain their feet in time to be of use. Some of the riders were rolled on and killed. And some were slain by the half-dozen volleys the astonished Turks found time to greet them with. But more than two-thirds of Rustum Khan’s men, armed with swords of every imaginable shape and weight, swept voiceless into an enemy that could not get out of their way; and regiments in the rear that never felt the shock turned and bolted from the wrath in front of them.
I climbed out to the edge of the trees, and yelled for Fred, waving both arms and my hat and a branch. He saw me at last, and brought his hundred men down the ramp at a run.
“Join Monty,” I shouted, “and help him clear the woods.”
He led his men into the trees like a pack of hounds in full cry, and I limped after them, arriving breathless in time to see the Turks in front of Monty in full retreat, fearful because the Rajput’s cavalry had turned their flank. Then Monty and Fred got their men together and swung them down into the pass to cover Rustum Khan’s retreat when the charge should have spent itself.
The Rajput had managed to demoralize the Turkish infantry, but Mahmoud’s guns were in the rear, far out of reach. Bursting shells did more destruction as he shepherded the squadrons back again than bullet, bayonet and slippery clay combined to do in the actual charge itself. Monty gave orders to throw down the fringe of trees and let them through to the castle road, so saving them from the total annihilation in store if they had essayed to scramble up the slippery ramp. And then Fred’s men joined Monty’s contingent, helping them fortify the new line — deepening and reversing the trench the Turks had dug below the ramp, and continuing that line along through the remaining edge of trees that still stood between the enemy and the castle road.
But by cutting down the fringe at the end of the road to let Rustum Khan through we had forfeited the last degree of secrecy. If the Turks could come again and force the gut of the pass, nothing but the hardest imaginable fighting could prevent them from swingi
ng round at that point and making use of our handiwork.
“That castle has become a weakness, not a strength, Colonel sahib!” said Rustum Khan, striding through the trees to where Monty and Fred and I were standing. “I have lost seven and thirty splendid men, and three and forty horses. One more such charge, and—”
“No, Rustum Khan. Not again,” Monty answered.
“What else?” laughed the Rajput. “That castle divides our forces, making for weakness. If only—”
“We must turn it to advantage, then, Rustum Khan!”
“Ah, sahib! So speaks a soldier! How then?”
“Mahmoud knows by now that the trees are down,” said I. “His watchers must have seen them fall. Some of the trees are lying outward toward the ramp.”
“Exactly,” said Monty. “His own inclination will lead him to use our new road, and we must see that he does exactly that. The guns are making the ramp too hot just now for amusement, but let some one — you, Fred — run a deep ditch across the top of the ramp; and if we can hold them until dark we’ll have connected ditches dug at intervals all the way down.”
Looking over the top of the trees I could just see the Montdidier standard bellying in the wind.
“I’ll bet you Mahmoud can see that, too!” said I, drawing the others’ attention to it.
“Let’s hope so,” Monty answered quietly. “Now, Rustum Khan, find one of those brave horsemen of yours who is willing to be captured by the enemy and give some false information. I want it well understood that our only fear is of a night attack!”
“You say, Colonel sahib, there will be no further use for cavalry?”
“Not for a charge down that ramp, at any rate!”
“Then send me! My word will carry conviction. I can say that as a Moslem I will fight no longer on the side of Christians. They will accept my information, and then hang me for having led a charge into their infantry. Send me, sahib!”
Monty shook his head. Rustum Khan seemed inclined to insist, but there came astonishing interruption. Kagig appeared, with arms akimbo, in our midst.