CHAPTER VII
A MAD RACE
Burnet was too well experienced in eastern travel to commence his journey in the heat of the day. He found a fairly quiet khan where he rested until the late afternoon, not forgetting to complain bitterly of his summary dismissal by a camel-driver whom it was impossible to please.
When at last he started, he struck across a line of low hills to the north-east, towards a wide bend in the Euphrates just below the latitude of Kut el Amara. Between the hills and the river the country was marshy and desolate, and he felt pretty secure against encounters with inquisitive wanderers. His idea was to swim the Euphrates at the northern extremity of the bend, from which the tell of Tukulti-Ninip was about a march distant.
Night overtook him before he reached the river, and since he did not know this part of the country well enough to proceed in darkness, he found himself obliged to seek a resting-place, and passed the night hours somewhat uneasily in a sandy hollow. At dawn he was up again, and had arrived at the edge of the marshy district when the midday heat again compelled a halt. Hitherto he had met no one; in the distance he had seen one or two bird catchers moving upon the marsh. He slept through the afternoon, and had just started again when a squadron of Turkish irregular cavalry emerged from behind a mound sparsely covered with ruins, where the troopers had probably off-saddled during the heat of the day.
Of all men these were such as he least desired to meet. The Turks were so eager to snap up recruits that no explanations or excuses, no feigning of half-wittedness, were likely to avail him if he were caught. Unluckily the country was devoid of cover until he could gain the marsh reeds nearly half a mile away; the cavalry were, when he caught sight of them, a little farther distant in the opposite direction. If he could once plunge among the reeds he had a reasonable chance of escaping, for the horses would be at a disadvantage on the boggy ground. But at a second glance he abandoned hope; the men must have seen him; they would reach the reeds first, and it was so small a patch that they could encircle it and soon beat him out. Flight was evidently useless; he must put the best face on it and trust to mother wit.
Even as he made up his mind to this, three men detached themselves from the squadron, which appeared to be about a hundred strong, and galloped towards him. Their comrades pursued their course upstream at a walk. When the men rode up to him, one of them ordered him to follow them: he must come before their officer. He assumed as silly a look as he could, and without replying, walked on at the same sauntering gait that he had adopted as soon as he saw the soldiers.
"Now, ass-head, bestir yourself," cried the man who had addressed him. "The captain is a hasty man."
"Ahi! Ass-head I am, but my legs—are not they the legs of a man? How should they keep pace with the legs of these mules?"
"Mules! What a foolish fellow is this! Take hold of my stirrup, and run."
Burnet clutched at the horse's tail, then shrank back.
"Woe is me! Shall I have more dealings with a shaving-brush?"
"By the Beard, he has not the wits of a calf," said another of the men. "Take him up behind you, Hassan."
The trooper, a brawny Kurd, stooped, took Burnet by the middle, and hoisted him with apparent ease to the horse's crupper.
"Put your arms round me," he said, and galloped off.
On their catching up with the squadron the captain gave the order to halt, the trooper let Burnet down, and led him to his officer, explaining that he seemed to be an idiot, not knowing a horse from a mule nor a tail from a stirrup iron.
"Your name?" demanded the captain.
"Yusuf, may you live for ever," replied Burnet.
"What are you? Why are you wandering here alone?"
"Ahi! I am an ass-head; that giant there says so, and so did my master, Firouz Ali."
"The barber of Bagdad!"
"Truly he is a barber, and of Bagdad; and he has brushes and sharp knives and soap, and he pours water on the soap——"
"This must be that witless apprentice of the barber's," the captain interrupted, "of whom they tell that he filled the mouth of Bukkad Bey with soap."
"Mashallah! was it not well done?" cried Burnet, with a foolish smile. "It was like cream in a cup of raspberries."
"The boy is a fool," said the captain. "You left Firouz Ali: what are you doing here?"
"Truly I am gazing at the sun, noble effendi," said Burnet innocently, fixing his eyes on the officer's round fat face. "My father says my face is the moon, and he wants to see it." He took out the Arabic note, unfolded it, and offered it to the captain, who however pushed it away impatiently.
"Answer my question: what have you done since you left the barber?"
"Eaten and drunk and slept, and suffered many stripes at the hands of one Ibrahim, a driver of camels. It is true I am an ass-head, for he too called me so, and having brought me to the town yonder, he sent me away; and I am even now going to my home in the Beni Lam country to feed the goats. It is all I am fit for."
The captain looked him up and down.
"He is a fool, but his limbs are sound," he said. "He is good enough for the infantry. Take him up behind you again, Hassan. We will see what they make of him in Bagdad."
The squadron moved off at an easy trot. Burnet was alarmed at the turn things had taken. He had little doubt that Firouz Ali would find some means of preventing his enlistment in the army; but the delay would prevent his meeting with Captain Ellingford at the tell and render it impossible for him to convey his information to headquarters, at any rate for some time to come. Meanwhile the young chief Rejeb's tribe was in danger of annihilation. However, there was no help for it. Bagdad was a long way off, and before they got there he might find a means of escaping.
As they rode along, Burnet listened to the troopers' conversation. They appeared to be a mixed lot, and spoke in a variety of dialects which he found very puzzling. But from words he made out here and there he gathered that the squadron had been on a reconnaissance down the right bank of the Euphrates. The mention of Halil's name now and again seemed to indicate that the expedition had been in some way connected with the impending attack on Rejeb. Whether it had been made in anticipation of that attack, to collect information, or whether the squadron was a part of the force detailed for the actual operations, Burnet was unable to determine. If the raid on Rejeb's people had actually occurred, his chances of finding an open route, should he succeed in crossing the Euphrates, were small indeed. The enemy would almost certainly hold the country through which he must travel, and probably in some strength. But from what he knew of the Turk it seemed unlikely that the expedition had even started yet. General Eisenstein had mentioned a month; there were still some days to spare, and not even the driving force of the German would have the effect of keeping either Turks or Arabs up to time. The month would probably extend to five or six weeks before the organisation of the expedition was sufficiently complete to satisfy Eisenstein, who, like all the German high command, would not move until he felt assured that every possible contingency had been foreseen and provided for.
Burnet cast many a longing glance at the fine Arab ridden by the captain. It trod the sand with the high step and graceful movement of the thoroughbred, and a gallop on its back would have been a sheer joy.
The squadron continued their march for some time after sunset, intending to bivouac at a spot which they had used for the purpose on the way down. It was a mound rising slightly above the marsh which had extended along their right flank the whole of the day. When they halted, the captain gave orders that Burnet should be tied up during the night. He was allowed first to eat a meal of his own dates, washed down with tepid, musty water from the skin he carried. It was an unpleasant night. His feet were hobbled, and his hands being bound, he suffered a good deal from the depredations of mosquitoes which he was unable to brush away. The birds and animals of the marsh kept up a strident chorus. Occasionally a wild boar with his family could be heard crashing through the reeds. It was impossible to sleep except in fitful snatches, and Burnet beguiled the wearisome hours by trying to form some plan of escape. He made several attempts to release his hands, but the trooper who had tied the cords had done his work thoroughly. Until his hands were free the most ingenious scheme for eluding his captors was a mere beating of the air; and he had to confess to himself that even then the chances of getting away from so many well-mounted men were not worth reckoning.
Overcome by weariness, Burnet was at last in a deep sleep when, at the first sign of dawn, the camp was astir. He was wakened, his bonds were loosed, and he was permitted to make a frugal meal again while the troopers saddled up in preparation for starting. Burnet noticed that the squadron had diminished in numbers, and learnt by and by that two or three parties of half a dozen men each had ridden off very early to scout in various directions.
Looking around him, he observed a wide glittering expanse some three miles or more to the east—no doubt the Euphrates shining in the morning sunlight. Rush-grown pools in the middle distance suggested that the intervening country was marshy.
Burnet's limbs were a good deal cramped by the uneasy postures he had had to adopt during the night, and he thought it well to assume a greater degree of stiffness than he actually felt. Uttering many doleful lamentations on his unhappy lot, he sat down and rocked himself to and fro until one of the troopers told him (with a scornful gibe on his lack of wit) to walk about if he wished to ease his aching. The majority of the men were squatting or lying on the ground beside their horses. The captain, in the centre of the mound some twenty yards away from Burnet, was examining the surrounding country through his field glasses. His horse was being walked up and down by his orderly, who eyed the benumbed prisoner with a certain amusement as he passed him. Burnet ignored the man and looked only at the horse, admiring the graceful high-mettled creature.
Suddenly a wild idea set his blood leaping. He rose, as if in response to the trooper's suggestion, and began to walk up and down, slowly and stiffly. Every moment he drew nearer to the short stretch on which the orderly was giving his master's horse gentle exercise. He allowed the man to pass him once, but as he returned from the end of his beat, Burnet gathered himself together, threw himself upon the Turk, and with a straight right-hander, shot out with all his strength, sent him staggering back. Half dazed as he was, the man still clutched the bridle. There was no time to loosen his grip. The plunging of the horse had already attracted the officer's attention, and Burnet was partly hidden from him by the animal's body. While the orderly was still staggering, Burnet vaulted into the saddle, and the scared animal wrenched himself from the man's relaxed grip and dashed across the mound towards the open country.
The officer had rushed forward, and with a furious imprecation sent three bullets in quick succession after the runaway. Burnet instinctively ducked; he discovered afterwards that one of the shots had perforated his water skin. The camp was in uproar. The troopers had sprung up, and in obedience to their captain's frenzied commands leapt into their saddles. Then began the maddest gallop that the plains of Babylonia had ever seen. Burnet felt that at every stride his mount must come to grief. At the start he had clung to the horse's mane, at the same time pressing his knees into its flanks with a muscular energy of which he felt the resulting strain for several days. The reins hung loose, the stirrups danced, and it was only by sheer horsemanship that Burnet was able to retain his seat until he recovered the former, which he had feared might trip the horse up. To slip his feet into the stirrups was impossible while the mad pace was maintained.
It was some moments before he realised that his steed was carrying him towards the south-west, away from his goal. With a firm grip now on the reins he managed to edge the horse gradually to the left, and, still at the same furious gallop, made straight towards the river. Lying low on the horse's neck, he glanced round, and saw, as he had expected, that the troopers were strung out in an irregular line behind him. Some, divining his intentions, were already heading to cut him off. And now his familiarity with the Arab horse served him well. By degrees he brought the frightened animal under control, and checked its pace, realising that its panic would soon exhaust its strength. He had little fear that the trooper's heavier horses would overtake him; but there was a risk of meeting one of the scouting parties which had ridden off an hour or two before, and he might need all his mount's reserve of speed to avoid being cut off.
Having mastered the horse, he was able to give his mind to a rapid calculation of his course of action. It was of the first importance that he should keep off the marsh, for if the animal were mired, within a few minutes he would find himself the target for fifty odd rifles. Even a convenient bed of reeds would hardly save him, for as one against fifty he would stand no chance. Before he attempted to cross the river his object must be to ride the pursuers out of sight, a difficult matter on the flat plain, which was almost devoid of cover. It was a case of trusting to the horse's stamina. Keeping therefore within touch of the edge of the marsh, he settled to a fast steady trot, every now and then looking over his shoulder for a sight of his pursuers.
For some time Burnet's resolution to spare his horse prevented him from increasing his lead appreciably. Indeed, the pursuers began to gain upon him. But he was so confident in his mount's superiority that this fact did not disturb him. Barring accidents, he could outstrip the more heavily mounted troopers at his pleasure.
Now that this plan of action was clearly outlined, he began to feel the exhilaration of the race. The horse had lost his fright, and already seemed to have entered into that mutual understanding which is established between a thoroughbred animal and a skilled rider. The air of early morning was crisp and still; there was no wind to sweep dust into his eyes, and the sand that flew up under the horse's hoofs hung in a cloud behind him.
His only anxiety was concerned with the scouting parties, and he looked more frequently ahead, and to his right, than towards the pursuers behind. There was little or no danger to be feared from the marsh on his left, but at any moment one of the detachments might appear on the plain to the south or west.
This apprehension proved to be well-founded. He presently caught sight of what appeared to be a low cloud far away to the south-west, and a few minutes later he was able to distinguish a number of specks in the midst of it. These grew rapidly larger as they approached, and he at length counted seven horsemen riding close together, and almost certainly troopers of the squadron. He had just time, perhaps, to avoid them; but whether he struck off to the right or left he would arouse their suspicion, especially as they must already have seen the string of pursuers in his rear. They could hardly fail also to recognise their captain's horse, and would probably guess that a horse-stealer had been at work and ride to cut him off, or, what would be worse, dismount and fire. It seemed best to take the bold course: to ride straight towards them, leaving them in doubt as to the meaning of the chase until he was close upon them.
Bending low upon the horse's neck to avoid recognition as long as possible, he groped for his revolver and held on his way. As he approached the party, their actions showed that they were puzzled. They halted, gesticulated, gathered in a group to debate the matter. No doubt they thought that a fugitive would hardly ride straight into their midst. But before Burnet had ridden another hundred yards he saw that the critical moment was at hand. The men suddenly broke apart; it appeared that they had at last recognised him, for they unslung their rifles. And now for the first time Burnet made the supreme call upon his horse. The gallant beast shot forward instantly, closing in upon the group with amazing speed. With the instinct of leaderless men, the Turks, evidently disconcerted, bunched themselves together again, and lost a few precious moments in fumbling with their rifles. Before they had aligned themselves and got their weapons ready Burnet was upon them. When some twenty yards distant, a touch on the rein caused his horse to swerve slightly to the left, and the nearest Turk, dropping his rifle, drew his tulwar and aimed a sweeping cut at Burnet as he flashed by. Burnet felt the air of the stroke as it missed him by inches. Turning on his saddle, he fired his revolver, rather with the object of inspiring caution and respect than with the expectation of hitting any of the enemy. At such a headlong speed to take aim was impossible. His shot, in truth, missed. He heard four scattered cracks: the rifle bullets whistled past; but he was already many yards beyond the stationary group, and when the thunder of pursuit reached his ears, he was confident that, with a clear course now before him, he could shake off the new pursuers if his horse could stand the pace.
When next he glanced back, one man was hard on his heels, but the rest were strung out at various intervals behind him, and the original pursuers were rapidly losing ground. There was nothing to fear except from the one man who was evidently better mounted than his comrades. He carried his rifle still unslung, and though an Arab of the desert might have found it a useful weapon even at the breakneck speed at which they were riding, it was not likely that a Turkish trooper would possess the dexterity of his wilder brother. But it was clearly necessary to dispose of this man. Burnet slightly checked his horse, and trusting it with its own course he looked back continually over his shoulder and watched the Turk foot by foot reducing the gap between them. From forty yards it became thirty—twenty—and then Burnet turned suddenly in the saddle and took a snap shot at the pursuer. It went wide. The Turk gave a shout of triumph, flourished his tulwar, and came galloping on. At fifteen yards Burnet tried another shot, and before he could see the effect of it, had to turn hastily to control the horse, whom the repeated shots had apparently disturbed. But he was conscious that the sounds of pursuit had died away, and glancing round a few moments later he saw that the Turk had reined up and was dismounting. That he was not seriously hurt was soon proved. Burnet had only just faced forward again when a bullet sang past his ear. "A good shot," he thought, and bent low to avoid a second. But no other came, and glancing back, he saw that the man's comrades had galloped past him, and were now between him and the quarry. There was no fear of further rifle practice.
THE LAST SHOT
Burnet was surprised that the troopers had not by this time relinquished the chase, for they were hopelessly outpaced, and must be losing a yard in every twenty. Probably they had unpleasant anticipations of their captain's wrath if they returned unsuccessful, and were hoping against hope that accident would give the fugitive into their hands. It was only after they had continued the pursuit for another mile or so that they at last recognised its futility. Dismounting, they tried to snipe Burnet's fast-lessening figure. In another five minutes he was beyond effective range, and with a sigh of contentment drew rein.
"Well done, old fellow," he said, patting the steaming neck of the quivering horse. "You have earned a rest."