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
The big bald head of the Turk nodded energetically, while the moonbeams
were reflected from the wet and polished spot which a few moments before
had been covered by his fez.
"You agree?" asked Geoff again. "We will save you on condition that you
tell us all you know of your people. You refuse, eh?"
The hand which a moment before had gripped the shoulder of the Turk, in
lieu of the missing hair, closed even more firmly, while the relentless
Geoff pressed the unfortunate Turk lower in the water, till it looked as
though he would send him right under.
"Stop!" gasped the Commander. "Save me! I agree!"
"Then come aboard! Give him a hoist, Phil, and gently with it!"
It was no easy matter to get that big Turk into the tiny little dinghy;
and yet, with his willing assistance now--for to tell the truth the
unfortunate Commander was innocent of the art of swimming, and had a
horror of the water--Geoff and his chum contrived to roll him over the
side, and deposit him on the bottom. Then Philip went right aft, and,
with Geoff's help, came aboard in that direction, the three of them
causing the dinghy to sink so low in the water that now and again the
stream lapping against the sides splashed over.
"Sit dead in the centre and don't move for your life," Geoff told the
Turk. "Now, Philip, paddle."
Dipping their paddles into the water they struck off to the left, and
didn't slacken their exertions till they had emerged from the river and
were in the streamless waste of waters from which they had stolen that
evening. Now and again they had cast their eyes over their shoulders to
see what was happening on the steamer, and, thanks to the lights aboard
her which now flared up from many of the cabins, and thanks also to the
shouts of her crew, to the hoarse and furious commands of the officers
left aboard her, they had no difficulty in learning what happened.
"She's gone right down stream and round the bend," chuckled Philip.
"So we needn't bother any further about her--at least not for the
present," said Geoff. "Let's sing out for our fellows."
Guiding the boat in beside an island, he stood up, and, placing his
hands to his mouth, halloed. Then he waited a moment and repeated the
shout.
"Listen! That's an answer, and from a point not so very far away," said
Philip. "Shout again! Yes, within easy distance, I should say, for after
getting this old gentleman aboard we struck up-stream so as to make
allowance for the drift after I had cut the cable. Christopher, Geoff,
what a jolly good business!"
For a hail persuaded them that they were indeed quite near to the
steam-launch; and within the five minutes which followed, by dint of
repeating their calls and listening to the answers, they were able to
find their way back to the narrow channel in which their comrades lay
waiting.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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