Bang! went a rifle. The faithful Maori corporal dropped dead at his officer's feet. Tony looked to his front, and there was the third man of the Turkish patrol coolly aiming at him too. He ducked just as a rifle banged. For a minute he lay flat, and then a strange thing happened. The second Maori, on the top of the cliff, unable to sight his rifle at this assassin of his friend, was charging wildly down on the Turk with his bayonet fixed.
"Allah! Allah!" shouted the Turk as he turned about and threw up his arms. A moment later he was bayoneted to death.
Tony jumped up and ran on, for in the distance he saw other patrols running towards the scene. The surviving Maori followed him to the beach. The boat was launched, and they pulled out from the shore. Danger, however, was not passed. Turkish patrols had found them. Volley after volley rattled through the air. They splashed all round; some hit the boat, one struck Tony in the arm, two more pierced the oars. But out and out pulled the plucky pair till, at last, they were clear of the fire.
"Hot shop, boss," said the Maori.
"Yes, a bit too hot!" muttered Tony as he bandaged his bleeding arm.
That night the Chief of Staff received the information desired. And a few days later Lieut. Tony Brown added the letters "D.S.O." to his name. Everybody said, "Why?" But the Chief of Staff simply smiled and passed on.
CHAPTER X
VICTORY
Night was falling fast over the Australasian lines. The darkness was welcome, for it brought a certain rest and coolness to the thousands of sun-baked and weary men. For two days they had slaved like navvies—digging, sand-bagging, reorganising trenches, improving communications, and bringing up supplies, Maxims, and ammunition. It was not the usual thing. Indeed, it was most unusual. Only the Staff knew why, for this war has taught us that we must not advertise our coming events. Of course the Tommies groused. They always do. It is the privilege of the soldier. And Bill Buster was not behind in this land of moaning.