Chapter 9

THE BATTLE BY ROCKS

Roy saw Ken's dismay.

'Sorry, old chap,' he said simply. 'I thought you understood.'

Ken smiled back.

'I'm afraid I took it for granted that you had it all pat. You see, I don't know the first thing about mountaineering myself. Can't we get back the same way we came?'

Roy shook his head.

'It's too big a reach. But don't worry. We'll find some way out. Stop here a minute and I'll go and have a squint round.'

Ken looked at him.

'You'll be careful, Roy? Hadn't I better come and give you a hand?'

'I'll call you if I want you,' said Roy. 'I'm going to see where this ledge leads.'

He strolled off as calmly as though walking along a twelve-inch ledge over a two hundred foot drop was as simple as a promenade down the sunny side of Piccadilly. Ken, feeling anything but happy, watched him until he was hidden behind a shoulder of rock.

It was quite five minutes before he came back.

'It's all right,' he said cheerfully. 'True, we can't get up, but I think we can get down. This ledge drops a long way, and there seems to be another below it. Let's have our grub and go along.'

He ate his share of Ken's rations with evident appetite, and Ken did his best to follow his example. But it would be idle to say that Ken felt happy. Glancing down into the tremendous depths that yawned below, he felt that he would infinitely rather charge a score of Turks, single-handed, than try to make his way down the face of the gigantic wall of rock.

Roy finished his food, brushed the crumbs from his tunic, and taking the bayonet which--with the automatic pistol captured from Kemp--were the only weapons they had, walked off along the ledge.

Ken set his teeth and followed.

'Look up, not down,' said Roy quietly, and Ken did his best to obey.

The ledge, though narrow, did not really present any particular difficulties. As Roy said, 'If it wasn't for the big drop below, you wouldn't think twice about it.'

Ken knew this was true, and tried hard to keep it in his mind.

Presently, however, the ledge began to narrow again, and the only way to tackle it was to flatten themselves, limpet-like, against the cliff face, and claw their way onwards, gripping every possible little projection which gave any sort of hand hold.

At last Roy pulled up.

'Capital!' he said. 'You're doing first-rate, Ken. That's as far as we can go on this ledge. We've got to drop to the lower one now. Don't worry. It's not as bad as that first drop we had to do last night.'

As he spoke, he stooped, gripped the edge of the ledge with his hands, and let himself down gently. There was a knob of rock about seven feet down. He got his feet on this, then reached up for the bayonet which Ken held.

As before, he jammed this into a crevice so as to give himself something to hold by, then signalled Ken to follow.

Ken's heart was in his mouth. The projection seemed hardly large enough for one pair of feet, let alone two. But when he reached it he found that Roy had left it all for him. He himself had stepped off, driving his toes into a mere crevice alongside.

'Keep hold of the bayonet till I tell you to move,' came Roy's quiet voice. 'Afraid we'll have to leave it where it is. We can't shift it again. That's right.'

'Now get your fingers into that crack to the right. I'm going to move your feet for you.'

What Roy was doing Ken could not tell, and he dared not look. But a moment later he felt the big fellow's hands shifting his feet.

There came a sharp rattle of falling stones, a quick gasp.

A spasm of fright clutched him. For the moment he fully believed that Roy had fallen.

'Roy! he cried sharply. 'Roy!'

'All right, old man. It's quite all right. Just a chunk of rock broken out. The stuff's a bit rotten, but I've got good hand hold.'

A pause. Then, 'Now you can move.'

Again Roy's strong hands shifted his feet. Twice more this happened; then just as he began to feel that he could stand the strain no longer, he heard Roy's jolly laugh.

'We've done it. One step more, and you're on the ledge.'

A moment later, and they stood together on a ledge nearly a yard wide. It seemed like a turnpike road compared to the one above.

Roy drew a long breath.

'That was a bad bit,' he said. 'As bad as anything I ever struck. Don't mind telling you now, Ken, that I was in a blue funk.'

'You didn't show it,' Ken answered rather breathlessly. 'If you had, I believe I should have crocked.'

'You didn't, anyhow. That's the main thing. And I wouldn't ask a better man to go climbing with. You kept your head, and did what you were told. Well, now I think the worst is over. This looks like a regular fault in the strata, and it ought to take us to the bottom.

Roy's judgment was correct. There were still some nasty places, but nothing like what they had already tackled, and within another quarter of an hour they had reached the bottom of the gorge.

A little stream ran down the centre, finding its way among piled masses of fallen rock. On each side the cliffs towered so high that only a mere slit of sky was visible. It was as wild and gloomy a spot as Ken had ever seen.

'I've seen better walking,' observed Roy, as a flat stone slipped under his foot, and nearly pitched him over into the bed of the brook.

'It's better than that abominable cliff, anyhow,' returned Ken. 'But I'd give something to know where we're going.'

'I can tell you. The sea. If we follow the stream we're bound to reach salt water.'

'But where?' said Ken--'where? I don't know that I've got the points of the compass very clear in my head, and there's no sun visible yet, but if I'm not mistaken, this brook runs east, not west.'

Roy pulled up with a puzzled expression on his face.

'Pon my Sam, I believe you're right. In that case, this is the head waters of some stream that runs out into the Straits.'

'That's my notion, and consequently we're still going plumb in the wrong direction.'

'We can't help it,' said Roy. 'It's no use trying to climb up the far side over the top of the hill.'

'Not a bit. The first thing to do is to get out of this gorge. After that we must see if we can't skirt round the base of the hill, and get back somehow.'

Roy nodded, and for some distance they continued on their uncomfortable way in silence.

'Not much more of it,' said Roy at last. 'We're getting near the mouth now.'

'And that's where our troubles are going to begin,' said Ken with a smile. 'It looks to me as if we were the best part of three miles inland.'

'Which means that we've got to get through the whole bunch of the Turks,' answered Roy. 'I say, don't you wish we'd got our whole crowd up here? We'd take the enemy in the rear and play old Harry with them.'

'No use wishing that. But I'll tell you what, Roy. If we ever do get back we'll have some useful information for the colonel.'

Roy nodded, as he scrambled on to the top of a big rock.

'I can see out of the mouth of the gorge from here,' he said, as he stood on the summit, 'and by the look of the country you're about right as to the course of this brook. We're the other side of the water-shed altogether.'

Ken clambered up beside him. A couple of hundred yards farther down the gorge ended, or rather turned into a shallow ravine, down which the stream found its way into a broad valley below. A rough track crossed this valley, and Ken pointed to figures looking no bigger than dolls in the distance, which moved along it.

'Reinforcements coming up,' he said. 'They'll be from Kojadere. We must keep clear of that road. Seems to me the best thing we can do is to swing to the right and work round the shoulder of the hill.'

'Yes, if we can find cover. Well, there's nothing to stop us from climbing up here. The bank don't amount to anything.'

He was right, and turning at once they scrambled up the steep rocky slope. It was broken with projecting crags, and almost covered with brush, which gave them ample cover. Reaching the top, they got a sight of the sun, and found that they were facing almost due east. The guns were still thundering behind them, but their sound was deadened by the great mass of hill which lay between them and the sea.

The hill-side was thick with scrub and there was no difficulty about getting forward. They went on steadily, and had travelled about half a mile when they entered a little wood. Passing through this, they were dismayed to find themselves on the edge of a steep bank about sixty feet high, with the track running at the bottom of it, and, beyond, a wide space of open valley rising again to a hill opposite.

'This is no use,' said Roy. 'We're bound to be spotted if we try to cross that open.'

'No, we must keep on this side for the present,' answered Ken, as he turned back into the trees.

Presently they heard a tramping of feet, and peering through the leaves saw a body of Turkish troops, about a hundred strong, marching stolidly along beneath them.

'My word, if we only had a maxim!' muttered Roy, as he stared at the closely-formed column. 'Couldn't we make hay of 'em?'

Ken did not answer. He watched the men pass on until they were out of sight around a curve in the track. Then he and Roy moved on again.

Round the next bend, they found themselves at the end of the friendly wood, and the ground beyond was a deal more open than seemed healthy.

'We'll have to wait until those chaps are well out of the way,' said Ken, and calmly sat himself down on a big stone, one of many which lay among the tree trunks.

'Hope they'll hurry,' said Roy rather viciously. 'I'm infernally hungry. I want to get back to my dinner.'

While Ken rested Roy stood staring out through the tree trunks.

Presently he turned to Ken. 'Tell you what, Ken, I believe there's a chance for us now. There's another patch of wood less than a quarter of a mile away, and if we watched our chance we might slip across without being spotted. Beyond it, the ground rises again, with a lot of rocks and scrub. Plenty of cover at any rate. What do you think?'

Ken got up and took a long and careful survey.

'It looks all right,' he said at last. 'I'm game to try it anyhow.'

'Then the sooner the better. Those Turks have topped the rise.'

They were on the point of starting when Ken heard a sound which made him seize Roy's arm.

'Steady a minute! There's something else coming up the track.'

They dropped flat and lay waiting. Sure enough, there was a low rumble of wheels, and after a few minutes a team of mules came into sight around the left-hand curve, dragging a field-piece, and accompanied by about a dozen Turkish gunners.

'Just as well we waited,' whispered Roy. 'We shouldn't have stood much show if we'd dropped down under their noses, eh?'

Ken did not answer. He was staring fixedly at the gun. His eyes were very bright.

He turned to Roy.

'That's going to be used to smash our chaps, Roy. Jove, if we could only stop it!'

'Stop it?' repeated Roy in amazement. 'My dear chap, we haven't even got our rifles. They're lying smashed up at the bottom of the gorge. The only weapon we've got left is this automatic.'

'We've got something better than bullets,' Ken answered very quietly. He laid his hand as he spoke upon one of the big loose boulders which lay in front of him.

'See here,' he went on, 'they'll come right underneath us. If we could get this rock down on the team, it would probably stampede the mules. Then before the men have recovered from their confusion, we ought to be able to give them a couple more. If we could land one on top of the gun itself, it would damage it pretty badly, even if it doesn't smash the mountings and make it useless. What do you say?'

'Say--why that it's the greatest scheme ever hatched, and I'm with you every time,' Roy answered, his face glowing with excitement. 'And, by Jingo,' he added, 'if we'd picked the spot for bringing it off, we couldn't have done better.'

This was true enough. The spot where they were perched was fully sixty feet above the road, and the slope below was next door to perpendicular. For another thing, the supply of boulders was unlimited.

The one to which Ken had pointed weighed perhaps a quarter of a ton and was shaped rather like a gigantic egg. He put his weight against it, and found that it rocked, but even so, he could not be quite certain that their combined efforts could start it over the edge.

'Wait!' whispered Roy, and turning slipped away into the thick of the trees. He was back in a minute, carrying a heavy piece of dead timber.

'This ought to do the trick,' he said softly. Ken nodded.

Meantime the Turks below, all unsuspicious of what was brewing, came slowly and steadily along the road. Slowly, because not only is a 77-millimetre gun with its caisson a heavy weight, but also because the road was merely an apology for one. It was nothing but a deeply rutted track thick with sand and loose stones.

The men were in charge of a non-commissioned officer, a Turk like themselves, and consequently were taking it very easy, strolling along, smoking and chatting.

Roy drove his stake deep under the big rock, and gave a slight heave.

'She'll shift all right,' he whispered in a tone of quiet satisfaction.

'All right. Wait till I give the word,' said Ken, with his eyes fixed upon the long gray gun which came jogging slowly onwards, its grim muzzle swaying and lurching as the wheels took the ruts in the road.

It seemed a long time before it came opposite. Then at last Ken gave one word.

'Now!'

In an instant they were both on their feet, Roy tugging on the lever, Ken bracing all his weight on the big rock.

It moved, it rolled slowly over, seemed to pause a moment on the edge of the bank, then suddenly shot forward. Ten feet below, it alighted on the slope, rebounded, and at the same time started half a dozen other stones. In a moment a rock avalanche was roaring down the steep. The great stone led the way. In a series of gigantic leaps, each longer than the last, it thundered downwards, at each jump starting fresh tons of the loose shale which covered the bank.

A cloud of dust rose like smoke, and hid all below. Then from out the cloud came squeals and shrieks.

In their excitement, Ken and Roy actually forgot to send fresh stones to follow the first. There was no need. When the dust cloud cleared, one mule which had broken loose was galloping madly across country, the rest were down and dead.

The gun, dismounted, was half buried in a pile of shale which lay feet deep across the road. Of the men, not one remained. Most were not only dead, but buried. Two only lay clear, and to all appearance they were as dead as their companions.

Roy looked at Ken.

'What you might call a clean bit of work,' he said, but though he tried to smile, there was something like awe in his voice.

'Yes. A ten-inch shell could hardly have done more,' Ken answered. 'Poor beggars! It's rather ghastly wiping 'em out like that, but one has got to remember that that gun would have probably finished ten times the number of our chaps if they'd got it into position.

'We'd better go down,' he added. 'We may find a couple of rifles, and I'll lay we shall need them before we reach our own lines.'

It was an awkward job to get down the bank, for the shale was so loose it kept breaking away under their feet. They had to go quickly, too, for there was every chance of fresh reinforcements or more guns coming up the road.

Fortunately no one else appeared, and in a very few minutes they were busy hunting among the pile of rocks for rifles that had escaped injury. They found three, but only one was serviceable. The sights of the others were damaged. They also found food. It was bread, dark-looking and very stale, and goats' milk cheese.

But they were far too hungry to be particular. They stuffed it into their pockets.

At that moment came a deep groan from among the rocks.

Ken swung round sharply.

'There's one of 'em alive in there,' he said quickly, 'we can't leave the poor beggar to die by inches.'

He began rolling the stones aside, and guided by the groans he and Roy soon pulled out a youngish Turk and laid him on the side of the road.

Ken examined him quickly.

'He's got off cheaply,' he said. 'Nothing broken--nothing the matter, so far as I can see, except bruises and a cut on the head. Give him a drop of your brandy, Roy.'

As Roy unscrewed the stopper, the Turk's eyes opened, and he stared up at his rescuers in blank amazement.

'Englishmen!' he muttered.

Roy put the flask to his lips, but he shook his head.

'Water,' he said in Turkish.

'It's against his religion to drink wine or spirits,' Ken explained to Roy, and put his own water-bottle to the man's lips.

'I thank you,' said the Turk with grave courtesy. He sat up and looked round at the ruin on the road.

'We did not know that your guns were near enough to drop shell upon us,' he said. 'Nor had we any notion that your troops had advanced so far inland.

'Well, it is Allah's will,' he continued resignedly. 'And our fate for being driven into an unjust war. I am your prisoner.'

'We don't want any prisoners,' Ken answered with a smile, and at his fluent Turkish the man's dark eyes opened in evident surprise. 'You are free.'

The Turk stared.

'Then you are separated from your own regiment,' he said keenly, and by his accent and language, Ken realised that he was a man of some education.

Ken did not answer.

'Your pardon, effendi,' said the Turk. 'I did not mean to ask idle questions. I thank you for your kindness, and I wish you happiness.'

'Come on, Ken,' broke in Roy, who was scanning the country uneasily. 'We are right out in the open here. That chap will be all right. Let's get into that wood as sharp as we can.'

'One moment,' said Roy, and turned to the Turk.

'If you care to do us a good turn, tell us the nearest way back to Gaba Tepe.'

The Turk pointed up the road.

'That is the nearest way, but, I need not tell you, the most dangerous. Our lines lie between here and the British. You must wait for the darkness of the night or you will for a certainty be captured. My advice to you is to conceal yourselves among the trees in the wood, and wait until the sun shall have set.'

'I thank you,' said Ken courteously. 'Is there anything else in which we can assist you?'

'There is nothing, I thank you. I will rest a while, then move onwards. In the name of the Prophet, I wish you a safe journey.'

'What tale was he pitching you?' said Roy impatiently, as he set off at a great rate for the wood opposite.

'He advised us to lie up for the rest of the day, and try to slip through their lines at night.'

Roy grunted. 'And I suppose he'll watch where we go and set his pals on us as soon as they come along.'

'He will do nothing of the sort,' Ken answered rather hotly. 'For goodness' sake, don't go judging the Turk by the German, Roy. That fellow considers that we have done him a favour, and nothing would induce him to betray us.'

'Sorry I spoke,' said Roy briefly, 'but you were so long I was getting into a horrid stew. Even now, one can't tell whether we've been spotted, and it isn't likely that the next German who comes along is going to be kind to us when he sees what we've done to his nice new gun.'

No more was said until they reached the wood and flung themselves panting under the shade of a scrubby live oak.

'Now we can take a bit of a breather,' said Roy. 'And a bit of lunch, too. Here, catch!' He flung a chunk of bread across to Ken.

But Ken had sprung up. He was listening keenly.

'Bunk!' he muttered. 'There's cavalry coming.'