Suddenly there was a whistle on the right, followed by an answering whistle on the left. Guided by the sounds the defenders opened fire. There was no reply. The enemy were no doubt feeling their way forward, in the hope of getting near enough to sweep the position in one overwhelming rush. From the directions in which the whistles had come, Frank guessed that an attack was to be made simultaneously on two sides. There was another whistle, nearer at hand and unmistakably at the side; the answer came from below. An idea flashed into his mind which he instantly put into execution.
When, a few moments later, the Turks swarmed down both sides of the gully some distance below the barricade, they intended to force the defenders back upon that useless defence, expecting to have them then at their mercy. But when they met, in the darkness and confusion some of them threw themselves upon their own friends before they discovered that the men they had come to attack had disappeared. In that brief interval before the rush, Frank, divining their purpose, had swiftly withdrawn all his men to the barricade, and at the moment when the Turks poured down the sides of the gully, the defenders were all posted above the barricade, facing towards them. As the Turks, yelling and cursing, surged upwards they were met by a withering fire, which swept down the gully into their confused and closely packed ranks. Trapped, bewildered, they hesitated; then they in turn opened fire.
But at this moment there was a ringing cheer from below, repeated in ever-increasing volume as a full company of Australians charged up the gully. They could not be seen; not a rifle flash revealed their position; they meant to do their work with the cold steel. The Turks, swept by the hail of lead from above, ignorant of the number of the enemy pouring upon their rear, began in terror to scramble up the sides of the gully, and broke away into the scrub on either side.
A hoarse shout rose from the parched throats of the men above the barricade. It warned their comrades of their position. And now came the moment that rewarded the little band for all the stress and labour of the day. Exhausted though they were, they sprang up the banks of the gully, and side by side with the new arrivals, deaf to the commands of Frank and Tomlinson, they plunged into the scrub after the fleeing Turks. A series of peremptory blasts from a whistle brought this impetuous movement to a stop. The men returned, disappointed but happy, to the gully, and the newcomers were ordered to line the banks with a protective parapet.
Then an electric torch was seen moving among the men, and a clear authoritative voice was heard.
"Where is the officer who organized this position?"
Thoroughly worn out, Frank was sitting at the foot of the bank, holding his head in his hands, hardly conscious of what was passing around him. He looked up as the light flashed upon him.
"This is he, eh?" a voice said. "Your name, sir."
He saw two keen eyes fixed upon him, and stood up, mechanically saluting.
"My name?" He appeared to consider for a moment. "Yes, I know: Frank Forester."