"And what about me?" asked Philip. "Ain't I good enough for such a job? Don't I begin to know Mesopotamia by heart by this time?"
"We'll see," rejoined Geoff enigmatically. "If there's a chance though—well, you may be sure that I'll go, and take anyone I can with me."
CHAPTER XIII
An Amphibious Expedition
"Garden of Eden, indeed!" growled Philip, some few weeks after that fine combat in which the Indian Expeditionary Force had proved so successful, and had cleared the road to Kurnah. "Where's the garden?"
The disdainful Mahratta subaltern looked round him from the doorstep of the house in which he and a few of his brother officers had taken up their quarters, and to which at that moment his chum Geoff had paid a visit. And well might the youthful and disgusted Phil have turned up his nose, have scoffed, and have shown the most infinite displeasure, for rains had set in since the occupation of Kurnah, and the whole country-side was soaked. That smooth, sandy, and gravelly desert was covered a foot deep in sticky, sandy mud, different from any mud encountered elsewhere; mud which clung to the boots, which piled up on the feet of those who trudged about the camp, and who must needs therefore carry about with them so much extra weight.
A hot, stifling mist hung over the country and blotted out the River Tigris. For, bear in mind, the Expedition had now advanced beyond the junction of the Euphrates and the Tigris Rivers, and had camped on the banks of the latter. Time was, centuries before, when these two historic rivers had come together in the neighbourhood of Kurnah—the little town now captured—where the country-side was drained, and fertile, and productive, and where, no doubt, date-palms had offered grateful shade, and patches of green had relieved the dull, dirty yellow of the desert. But that was in days gone by. Now, a change in the course of the River Euphrates—a river which, like many a one in China, changes its course in the most fickle and unforeseen manner—had cut a channel for itself farther to the south, where it now met the Tigris. "Garden indeed!" The place was a muddy swamp, set amidst the most depressing surroundings.
"Not so very cheerful," Geoff had to agree, as he puffed at a cigarette and smiled at the indignant Philip; "but then we're campaigning, my dear fellow, and soldiers should take things as they come, and not grouse and grumble."
"Shut up!" Philip told him. "None of your Head-quarters airs for me! What's doing?"