Frank Forester: A Story of the Dardanelles

by Herbert Strang

The khanji looked surprised at this offer: but he was quite ready to accept it and save himself trouble.

Frank was well satisfied with what he had learnt, and went to sleep with an easy mind.

Very early next morning he accompanied the khanji to his stables, where he found an old broken-kneed horse for which he haggled in the oriental manner, ultimately paying for it a good deal more than it was worth. On a shelf he saw a tool of the nature of a trowel, which he slipped into his pocket when the khanji's back was turned. "It may come in handy," he thought, "and the old rascal is more than paid for it by what he has robbed me of over the horse."

Thanking his host for his hospitality, Frank mounted and pushed along the road as fast as his sorry nag could go. At this early hour he met no travellers, and saw nobody but the labourers trudging to their work in the fields. After riding about nine miles, as nearly as he could guess, he turned off into a side track leading towards the coast. The country all around was densely wooded, and from marks on the track he judged that it was used for dragging timber. Now and then he heard the ring of axes in the woods. At places the track drew near to the edge of the cliff overlooking the sea. Here he struck off inland, making his way as best he could among the trees. Once he caught sight of a man far away on the cliff, looking out to sea. It appeared that the coast was watched.

At last, after what seemed to be hours of slow progress, diversified by stumbles and falls of his miserable steed, he came suddenly to the barbed wire fence of which he had heard at the inn. He saw at a glance that it was not designed to keep people out if they were determined to get in. Like the notice, "Trespassers will be prosecuted," in fields and woods at home, it was intended to scare intruders away. Frank dismounted, led his horse into a thicket out of sight from the fence, hitched the bridle to a tree and gave the animal some food. Then he returned to the fence, took the bearings of the thicket, and prepared to get over. This he achieved by climbing on the successive strands of the wire as on the rungs of a ladder, steadying himself by means of one of the posts to which the wire was attached. One of the barbs tore a rent in his baggy trousers, but this was his only mishap. He was within the enclosure of the mysterious hermitage.

He looked about him. There were many trees, though they were not so crowded as in the woods he had just left. No house was in sight. He had gathered from the carrier's talk that the enclosure was of large extent: exactly how large he did not know, and it was necessary to go warily, to avoid coming too suddenly upon the house. He flitted from tree to tree with the caution of a scout who knows that an enemy is in front of him.

Presently he came to a stream too wide to leap: he crossed it by wading, the water coming halfway up to his knees. The current was swift, and a little to his left he heard a continuous rustle, like the sound of a waterfall. No doubt the stream fell over the cliff into the sea. He went on, and arrived at a rough track parallel with the stream. Carefully scanning the surroundings, he saw, down the track to his right, a second wire fence, with a gate where it crossed the path. He retraced his steps for some little distance, in order to approach the fence at a spot remote from the gate.

When he reached it, he found that it differed from the outer fence. It was constructed, not of barbed wire, but of plain iron wire about as thick as that used for telegraph lines. There would be no difficulty in creeping through. It seemed strange that the inner defences of this hermit's settlement should be so much less formidable even than the paltry obstruction he had recently crossed. He examined it closely, and noticed what appeared to be an insulator on one of the posts. Perhaps the fence was not so harmless as it looked. Wetting a finger, he lightly touched the wire for an instant.

"Lucky I wasn't too impetuous," he thought. "That's a pretty strong charge."

Faced by this unexpected obstacle, he withdrew among the trees to consider what he should do. The trowel which he had brought, with the idea of cutting the wire if necessary, was useless against a wire electrically charged. Possibly, however, search might discover a weak spot. There was no sign of the inhabitants of the settlement. Returning within sight of the fence, but keeping near to the trees so that he might slip under cover in case of alarm, he prowled along, but without reward until he reached the stream he had waded. At this spot it was crossed by the wire, attached to a post on each bank. He saw at once that by scooping away the soft earth at the foot of one of the posts he could make a hole large enough to enable him to wriggle under the bottom strand of wire. The trowel was coming in handy after all.