Amos did not like it. He evidently feared the Greek guide had been seized with what might be termed in boy’s parlance, “cold feet,” and meant to give up the undertaking. That showed how poorly Amos had sized up the young Greek; Jack knew better, and was perfectly willing to continue to trust the pilot of the secret expedition to the end.
When they had gone back a little way Arturus bade them halt, and in a low whisper started to explain what it all meant.
“It appears that the Turks have brought one of their biggest guns down to the shore here since I was over the trail last,” he told them. “It is a battery hidden in the rocks and brush. Some time they hope that a warship it come close to the shore in the daytime. Then a shot from the big gun sink her easy. So they hide here, and wait their time.”
“But does that spoil our trip, Arturus?” asked Amos fretfully.
“Not at all. We must only go around instead of following the beach, or the old trail. It takes us longer, to be sure, but after all what is time when we have the rest of the night before us? You come along with me, and I show you how it can be done.”
Of course this intelligence pleased Amos immensely. His heart grew light again. After all it was going to be only one of those little troubles which they must surmount before they could hope to attain their cherished end. The more they had to battle with these impediments the sweeter victory would be finally.
They accordingly climbed up the little bluff, taking care not to make too much noise, though Arturus did not seem to believe the Turks manning the hidden big gun battery could be very watchful.
Having accomplished this part of their task, the guide led them further back from the shore line. It was fearfully rough. At times they were almost compelled to get down on their hands and knees in order to make progress; but in spite of all this they persisted diligently, and in the end reached what Arturus must have considered a reasonably safe distance from the battery.
Here he changed his course, and once more headed up the shore, intending thus to make a half circuit, so as to come out upon the neglected road above the enemy’s position.
By this time Amos had changed his mind not a little. He figured that when everything was considered this night’s adventure would take its place among his most difficult feats. Truth to tell, he could not remember the time when he had undergone such a strenuous “crawl” as this was turning out to be. His hands were scratched by thorns and sharp-pointed rocks, while his knees threatened to be placed in the same category. In spite of it all, Amos did not venture to complain—he only shut his teeth tightly together, and mentally vowed to keep up the fight until he dropped; for he believed the goal to be near at hand now, and victory was worth all that he suffered and even more.