Then, seeing the Turks firing furiously from a trench ahead, somebody yelled out, "Charge!" A cheer electrified the chilling dawn as they rushed on. Some were killed; some fell, wounded, on the way; the others pressed forward, their faces grim, their eyes alert, and the muscles of their arms all taut with the fierce gripping of the rifles in their hands. It was their first charge; but they did it like the veterans of Corunna and Waterloo.
"Allah! Allah!" shouted the Turks as they neared the trenches.
"Too late, old cock," said Bill, plunging his bayonet home.
"That's one for Paddy Doolan."
"Help, Paddy; this big deevil's got me," yelled Sandy, who had been struck by a Turk. Crash went the Irishman's butt on the Turk's skull, and he fell back dead. Sandy's wound was dressed, and he was sent to the rear. Meantime some supports had come up.
Seeing the Turks fleeing into another trench some fifty yards up the slope, the colonel ordered them to charge again. The Australians' blood was up. They had seen red and had felt success. They wanted more. Throwing off their cumbersome packs, they charged forward again.
"They've got me," shouted an officer, throwing up his arms and letting out the awful shriek of death. But this withering fire did not appal these young Australians. The sight of their comrades, dead and wounded, roused them more. Revenge set their faces hard, and with many a fierce and terrible oath they leaped into the second trench.
"The Australians will retire," said an officer, jumping in front of the attacking line.
"Who said so?" asked Colonel Killem, looking at the man.
"I say so. I'm one of zee Staff."