On the Road to Bagdad: A Story of Townshend's Gallant Advance on the TigrisBrereton, F. S. (Frederick Sadleir)
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On the Road to Bagdad: A Story of Townshend's Gallant Advance on the Tigris
Brereton, F. S. (Frederick Sadleir)
World War, 1914-1918 -- Juvenile fiction
He hooked one arm over the rope, while he extricated--not without
difficulty--the jack-knife which he had in his trouser-pocket. Opening
the big blade with his teeth, he then gripped the cable and commenced to
saw through it till it was almost two-thirds severed. At that point he
desisted suddenly, for there came an ominous crack from the rope he had
been cutting, while he could feel with his fingers that the severed
strands were separating widely.
"It will be through in a minute," he told himself; "for, though I had no
idea of it, the stream here is running fairly fast, and the weight of
the vessel with the stream on it must be giving a strong pull on the
rope. There it goes, cracking again, and I can feel the strands pulling
themselves asunder. It's time to be off."
He wasted no valuable moments in closing his knife and pocketing it
again, for, owing to his drenched clothing it had been a difficult
enough task to extricate it from his trousers; he dropped it, therefore,
and let it sink to the bottom of the river, while he himself let go of
the parting cable and struck down the stream till his fingers touched
the side of the vessel and he was washed down along it. Then the fingers
of both hands gripped the bilge keel, and he listened for the tramp of
the sentry, only to find that he was past him and well on towards the
stern of the vessel; in fact, he reached the spot where he might safely
hope to clamber aboard without observation. And now, with the help of
the bilge keel, which gave him a leverage, Philip raised his body from
the water, and, throwing one hand above his head, just managed to reach
the rail and grip it. The rest was an easy matter for a young and active
fellow such as he was, and within a few seconds he was on the deck,
gasping after his exertions, and dropping pools of water which ran away
from his feet into the scuppers.
"What's that? Someone on the deck!" he heard the Commander exclaim,
though Philip did not know the meaning of the words uttered.
This, however, he knew perfectly well--that his presence was suspected,
and that the sauntering steps of the Turkish officer had suddenly come
to a rest, while without doubt the man was staring in his direction; the
dull glow of the end of his cigar was sufficient indication of that
fact, while the voice supported the suggestion. Then from right for'ard
there came a dull, sharp snap, while a subdued shudder ran down the deck
of the vessel and communicated itself to Philip.
"Cable's gone!" he told himself. "Time I was moving."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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