He had no idea where the battery was! Good God!
I led the way. The path was quite easy for a hundred yards and even farther; but afterwards it was necessary to clamber up some difficult cliffs. The undertaking in the dark was going to be severe. I came to a full stop and turned round.
“This is the way,” I said, and pointed up. Sands eyed it pensively.
“Is that the only way?”
“There is another longer but much easier road which sweeps round the hill. Shall we take that?”
“Yes, we shall. Hurry up, Lake. It’s late already: the sun will soon be up. We’ll be dead men if you waste time here much longer.”
His words sounded alarming; but he did not seem much worried at the prospect.
Complete darkness favoured us still; but dawn would not long delay. I, too, considered it was time to hurry. We were back again on the main path in very few minutes, following it over the shoulder of a hill. The climb was stiff and soon made us steady the pace. Wherever we went the country was the same, covered with low bushes and destitute of a single tree of any proportions. On the summit of the shoulder, the path turned to the left and climbed up to the top of the hill. I went on along it, for it led directly to the old position of A Battery. But Sands stopped, and I noticed him peering down into the next valley. “No, this is the way,” he said, all of a sudden. “I’m pretty certain the guns have been taken somewhere over here.” Forthwith he started along a road which dipped straight down, and looked to run directly for Gaba Tepeh.
There was a wide view of the ocean from here, and from the waters drifted a salty breeze. It was a message that day was at hand. Whether Sands discovered poetry in that scene or not I cannot say; but he stood still a moment with his head on one side eyeing the shadowy waters. The reverie lasted brief time. “It will be light quickly now, Lake,” he said. “If we don’t find the guns, we shall probably be dead in half an hour.”