Captured at Tripoli: A Tale of AdventureWesterman, Percy F. (Percy Francis)
History
Captured at Tripoli: A Tale of Adventure
Westerman, Percy F. (Percy Francis)
Tripoli (Libya) -- History -- 20th century -- Juvenile fiction; Turco-Italian war, 1911-1912 -- Juvenile fiction
More than two-thirds of the distance was completed when a fairly
dense scrub was encountered, clusters of prickly cacti impeding the
already slow progress of the little band. The soil, too, instead of
consisting of soft, drifting sand, began to become hard and
sun-baked. All this told of the presence of conditions capable of
supporting animal life.
"What's that?" asked Hugh, as a low rumble was borne to their ears.
Reeves did not reply, but, loosening his pistol in the folds of his
shawl, he bade his young companions see that their firearms were
ready for instant use.
"Are they lions?" asked Gerald, after a while.
"Aye," replied the correspondent grimly, "and much too near for my
liking. We may have to use our guns, but I don't want to, except as a
last resource. Get off that camel, Hugh. You'll feel much safer on
your feet."
Hugh instantly obeyed, yet somehow he felt as if he were much safer
on his lofty perch. Nevertheless he half-cocked his cumbersome
flintlock and marched beside Gerald. Reeves was walking on the right
outside, slightly in advance of the others, while the hierie served
as a screen from attack on the left.
Suddenly there was the rush of some heavy body, a dull thud, and a
squeal from the camel as the poor brute was borne to the ground. The
lads had a momentary glimpse of the flashing eyes of some enormous
animal, which had struck down the hierie and was savagely rending its
slender neck.
Reeves aimed at a distance of less than three yards with his long
flintlock, but the weapon missed fire.
"Let him have it, lads!" he shouted; but both, though they presented
their guns, could not fire. With a muttered exclamation the
correspondent snatched the musket from Hugh and again took aim. This
time there was a deafening concussion; but, without waiting to see
the result of his shot, Reeves threw down the discharged weapon, and
drawing his automatic pistol he sent four shots in rapid succession
into the head of the groaning beast, which was still mauling the
unfortunate hierie.
"That's done it!" he exclaimed, as the huge brute rolled over on top
of its victim. "Look out, lads! There may be another about, so reload
that musket."
But with the firing the roars ceased, and a great crackling of the
brushwood showed that some if not all of the lions were in full
retreat.
"He's settled the hierie for us," remarked Reeves, after vainly
attempting to pull the dead lion off the camel's body. "It's tramp
with a vengeance now. Take the water bottle and the dates, Gerald;
they are what we require most at present."
"We've made enough noise to arouse every denizen of the place for
miles around," he continued, as, well laden, the three proceeded on
their way. "Why didn't you shoot the brute when I told you to?"
"I tried to, but I couldn't pull the trigger," replied Gerald, and
Hugh answered in a similar manner.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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