Roy burst out laughing.
'You ungrateful beggar. Here, I've got a bit of string, and we'll soon put 'em to rights. Now Carrington, let's have a squint at your shoulder.'
Ken's shoulder was badly bruised, but nothing worse, and he and Dave soon forgot their injuries in the excitement of a big frontal attack by the Turks. For ten minutes they loaded and fired until their rifle barrels were almost red hot; then the survivors of the attacking party took to their heels and ran.
After that there was peace for a little except for shell fire. This, however, grew heavier. Fresh guns had been brought up, and at least three were devoting their whole attention to the trench. They had got the range, too, and the shrapnel was bursting right over the gallant Colonials. Casualties became very heavy, and the doctor and stretcher-bearers were kept busy the whole time.
To make matters worse, another machine gun had been mounted on rising ground to the north and its fire was enfilading the trench. If it had not been for the traverses on which the colonel had insisted, the position would have become untenable.
Ken, flattened against the clay face of the trench, began to feel very uneasy. They had no more reinforcements, and if the Turks got more guns, it began to look as though the whole business would end in failure.
'About time we did another sally to look for that machine gun,' said big Roy Horan in his ear.
'Not in the daylight,' answered Ken, shaking his head. 'We shouldn't have a dog's chance of reaching it.'
'Well, something's got to happen pretty soon,' answered Roy, ducking, as a shell burst almost overhead. 'Something's got to happen, or there won't be enough of us left to hold this blessed dug-out.'
'Things don't look healthy, and that's a fact,' allowed Ken. 'Our only chance is to get some guns to work. And that's just what we haven't got.'