Since there was not another fougasse to fire, the Lieutenant loaded the Very's pistol and lashed it to the stump of a bush about a hundred yards from the trenches. To the trigger he tied a thin piece of cord, obtained by unreeving the strands of a length of rope, and secured the other end to a picket driven deeply into the sand. In the event of any of the Senussi creeping up to the defences at night, contact with the cord would instantly give the alarm.
By dint of hard work, these preparations were completed before the short twilight gave place to intense darkness. It was now blowing hard from the nor'east, and, in spite of the fact that only a narrow strip of ground lay between the rear of the trenches and the sea, the defences were exposed to irritating clouds of fine sand that penetrated almost everything—even the intricate breech-mechanism of the magazine rifles.
"I wonder how the whaler is faring?" was the question that rose to the lips of almost every member of the shipwrecked crew, not once but many times. With the rising breeze the men realized that the boat had a dead beat to wind'ard, and that, even if she could still carry canvas, her progress towards the distant goal would be very, very slow.
The night was cold, for the sand radiated its heat with remarkable rapidity, while the on-shore wind was bitterly keen. Without adequate clothing the men suffered acutely, their condition accentuated by the quick contrast with the scorching rays of the sun during the day. Those not detailed for sentry work huddled together in the trenches, the wounded being provided with awnings fashioned from the boats' sails stretched between pairs of oars. Slowly the hours passed, for, although not a single watch belonging to the castaways had survived the prolonged immersion in salt water, a fairly accurate count of time could be kept by means of the position of certain well-known stars.
At about midnight the sky was overcast, and even this means of calculating time was at an end. In utter silence the sentries maintained a vigilant look-out, while their comrades either dozed fitfully or lay awake, shivering with cold, and on thorns of expectancy for the night attack.
Suddenly the tense stillness of the night was broken by a sharp report, followed by the appearance of a vivid light two hundred feet or more in the air. The Very pistol had been discharged.
Instantly the defenders sprang to their feet. Those having rifles manned the loopholes, opened the "cut-offs" of the magazines, and prepared to pour a withering fire into the expected mass of Senussi.
But nothing in the nature of a wild chorus of war-cries pierced the darkness. In the distance could be heard sounds of commotion amongst the Arabs, who had encamped at about two or three miles from the scene of the previous encounter. In front of the zariba all was quiet.
"Did you see anything, Wilson?" asked Osborne of one of the sentries.
"Nothing, sir," was the reply. "And when that rocket went off it was as clear as day, in fact my eyes are still dazzled by the light."