6
THE 8GRANTON TBTBTTNE THITB8DAY MORNING, OCTOBER 8, 1896.
V The Three S
D Correspondents.
S AN INCIDENT OF C
BY. CONAX DOYLE. M A . .
1 THE 50UDAN CAMPAIGN, f
O (Copyright, IMi by A. Conan Doylt.) "
. SYNOPSIS.
Three correspondents of London new,
papers, Mortimer, of h Intelligencer:
Scott, of the Courier, and Anerley, of the
(Jazette, are riding with their servants
from th terminus of the military rail
way In Kgypt to the advance army of oc
cupation. They camp in a palm prove near
the Nile during tho heat of the day. Mor
timer and Scott are veteran correspond
ents. Anerley is a novice. The veterans
have provided themselves with swift polo
fionies. Anerley has an old hack, and his
ark of experience is discussed by his
companions who remind him that lie will
he left behind in the raco for the tele
graph station, if a battlo takes place. In
cidentally Anerley learns that in a contest
of thirty wiles or more the ewlft-KOintf
camels of the dervishes always defeat a
horse. Merryw-eather, the engineer la
chief o:' the railway, rides by to the front
i pressing business. Presently Anerley,
while the others are asleep, sees him re
turning In ihaste. M.nrry weather rides
down into a little hollow, and does not
euppear. A puff of smoke Indicates that
he has been shot ly ambushed dervishes.
Anerley awakens Mortimer and Scott.
PART III.
"And Reuter not here!" cried the two
Veterans, exultantly clutching at their
notebooks. "Merry weather shot!
Where? When? How?"
In a few words Anerley explained
what he hail seen.
"You heard nothing?"
"Nothing."
"Well, a shot loses Itsolf very easily
among rocks. By lieorge, look at the
buzzards!"
Two large brown birds were soaring
In the deep blue heaven. As Scott spoke
they circled down and dropped Into the
little khor.
"That's good enough," said Mortimer
with his nose between the leaves of his
book. "Merryweather headed dervishes
stop returned stop shot mutilated stop
rata communications, now s tnair
"You think he whs headed off?"
"Why else should he return?"
"In thftt. rase, If they were out In
front of him and others cut him off,
there must be several small raiding
patties."
"I should judge so."
"How ubuut the 'mulllated?' "
"I've fought ugainst Arabs before."
"Where are you oft to?"
"Karras."
"I think I'll vace you In." said Scott.
Anerley slured in astonishment at
the absolutely impersonal way In which
these men regarded the situation. In
their zeal for news It had apparently
never struck them that they, their camp
and their servants, were ull In the
lion's mouth. Hut even as they talked
thpre ranie thjfi harsh importunate rat-tat-tnt
of tin Irregular volley from
among the rocks, and the high keening
whistle of bullets over their heads. A
'palm spi'oy fluttered down amongst
them. At the same Instant the six
frightened servants came running wild
ly In for protection.
It was the cool-headed Mortimer who
organized the defense, for Scott's Celtic
soul was so aflame at all this "copy"
In hand and more to come that he was .
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too exuberantly boisterous for a com
tnander. The other with his spectacles
and hist stern face soon had the ser
vants in hand.
"Tall henna! EgrI! What the devil
are you frightened about? Put the
camels between the palm trunks. That's
right. Now get the knee-tethers on
them. Quies! Did you never hear bul
lets before? Now put the donkeys here.
Not much you don't get my polo-pony
to make a zareba with. Picket the
ponies between the grove and the river
out of danger's way. These fellows
seem to fire even higher than they did
In "83."
"That's got home, anyhow," said
Scott, as they heard a soft splashing
thud like a stone in a mud-bank.
"Who's hit then?"
"The brown camel that's chewing the
cud."
. As he spoke the creature, its jaws
still working, laid Its long neck along
the ground and closed its dark eyes.
"That shot cost me fifteen pounds,"
said Mortimer, ruefully. "How many
of them do you make?"
"Four, I think."
"Only four Bezingers at any rate;
there may be some spearsmen."
"I think not: it Is a little raiding
party of riflemen. By the way, Aner
ley, you've never been under fire be
fore, have you?"
"Never," said the young pressman,
who was conscious of a feeling of ner
vous elation.
"Love and poverty and war, they are
all experiences necessary to make a
complete life. Pass over the cartridges.
Thin is a mild baptism that you are
ry
"SHALL I FIRE?"ASKED ANERLEY
undergoing, for behind these camels
you are as safe as if you were sitting
in the back room of the Author's club."
"As Bafe, but hardly as comfortable,"
said Scott. "A long glass of hock and
seltzer would be exceedingly accept
able. But. oh, Mortimer, what a
chanre! Think of the general's feel
ings when he hears that the first action
1
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of the war has been fought .by the
press column. Think of Reuter, who
has been stewing at the front for a
week! Think of the evening pennies
just too late for the fun! By Oeorge,
that slug brushed a mosquito off me!"
"And one of the donkeys is hit."
"This is sinful. It will end in our
having to carry our own kits to
Khartoum."
"Never mind, my boy, it all goes to
make copy. I can see the headlines
'Raid on Communications;' 'Murder of
British Engineer;' 'Press Column At
tacked.' Won't it be ripping?"
"I wonder what the next line will
be," said Anerley.
"Our Special Wounded.' " cried
Scott, rolling over on te his back. "No
harm done," he added, gathering him
self up again; "only a chip off my knee.
This Is getting sultry. I confess that
the Idea of that back room at the Au
thor's club begins to grow upon me."
"I have some diachylon."
"Afterwards will do. We're having
'a 'appy day with Fussy on the rush.'
I wish he would rush."
"They're coming nearer."
"This Is an excellent revolver of mine
if it didn't throw so devilish high. I
always aim at a man's toes if I wont to
stimulate his digestion. O Lord, there's
our kettle gone!"
With a boom like a dinner gong a
Remington bullet had passed through
the kettle and a cloud of steam hiHsed
up from the fire. A wild shout came
from the rocks above.
"The idiots think that they have
blown us up. They'll rush us now as
sure as fate then it will be our turn to
lead. Got your revolver, Anerley?"
"I have this double-barreled fowling-piece."
"Sensible man! It's the best weap
on in the world at this sort of rough-and-tumble
work. What cartridges?"
"Swan-Bhot."
"That will do all right. I carry this
big bore double barreled pistol loaded
with slugs. You might as well try to
stop one of these fellows with a pea
shooter as with a service revolver."
"There are ways and means," said
Scott. "The Geneva convention does
not hold south of the first cataract. It's
easy to make a bullet mushroom by a
little manipulation of the tip of it.
When I was In the broken square at
Tamal "
"Wait a bit," cried Mortimer, adjust
ing his glasses. "I think they are com
ing now."
"The time." said Scott, snapping up
his watch, "being exactly seventeen
minutes past four."
Anerley had been lying behind a
camel staring with an Interest which
bordered upon fascination at the rocks
opposite. Here was a little wooly puff
of smoke, and there was another one,
but never once had they caught a
glimpse of the attackers. To him there
wan something weird and awesome in
these unseen persistent men who, min
ute by minute, were drawing closer to
them. He had heard them cry out when
the kettle was broken, and once imme
diately afterwards an enormously
strong voice hud roared something
which had set Seott shrugging his
shoulders.
They've got to take us first, said he.
and Anerley thought his nerve might
be better if he did not ask for a trans
lation.
The firing had begun at a distance of
some hundred yards, which put it out of
the question for them, with their light
er weapons, to make any reply to it
Had their antagonists continued ti
keep that, range the defenders mtis
either have made a hopeless sally oi
tried to shelter themselves behind their
zareba as best they might on the chatim
that he sound might bring up help
But, lucyily for them, the African had
not taken kindly to the rifle, and his
primitive instinct to close with his ene
my Is always too strong for his sense of
strategy. They were drawing In, there
fore, and now for the first time Anerley
caught sight of a face looking at them
from over a rock. It was a huge, virile,
strong-jawed head of a pure negro type,
with silver trinkets gleaming in the
ears. The man raised a great arm from
' OF UNDERWEAR
220 LACK
behind the rock and shook his Reming
ton at them.
"Shall I fire?" asked Anerley.
"No, no, it is too far; your shot would
scatter all over the place."
"It's a picturesque ruffian." said Scott
"Couldn't you kodak him, Mortimer?
There's another! "
A fine-featured brown Arab, with a
black pointed beard, was peeping from
AGAIN HE STRAINED VXAVAIL
INLY AT THE TRIGGER.
behind another bowlder. He wore the
green turban which proclaimed him
hadji, and his face showed the keen
nervous exaltation of the religious fan
atic. "They seem a piebald crowd," said
Scott.
"That last Is one of the real fighting
Baggara," remarked Mortimer. "He's
a dangerous man."
"He looks pretty vicious. There's an
other negro!"
"Two more! Dingas by the look of
them. Just the same chaps we get our
black battalions from. As long as they
get a fight they don't mind who Its for.
But If the Idiots had only sense enough
to understand they would know that
the Arab is their hereditary enemy and
we their hereditary friends. Look at
the silly jugglins gnashing his teeth
at the very men who put down the slave
trade!"
Couldn't you explain?"
"I'll explain with this pistol when he
comes a little nearer. Now sit tight,
Anerley. They're off!"
They were, Indeed. It was the brown
man with the green turban who head
ed the rush. Close to his heels was the
negro with silver earrings a giant of a
man, and the other two were only a lit
tle behind. As they sprang over the
rocks one after the other it took Aner
ley bark to the school sports when he
held the tape for the hurdle race. It.
was magnitir.ent, the wild spirit and
abundott of it, the nutter of the chequ
ered galobeeahs, the gleam of steel, the
wave of black arms, the frenzied faces.
the quick pitter-patter of the rushing
feet. The law-abiding Briton is so im
bued with the Idea of the sanctity of
the human life that It was hard for the
young pressman to realize that these
men had every intention of killing him,
and that he was at perfect liberty to do
us much for them. He lay staring as
if this were o show and he a spectator.
"Now, Anerley, now! Take the Arab,"
oried somebody.
He put up the gun and saw the brown
lerre face at the other end of the barrel
He tugged at he trigger, but the face
Tt'ew larger and fiercer with every
stride. Again and again he tugged.
A revolver shot rang out at his elbow,
then another one, and he saw a red spot
spring out on the Arab's brown breast.
But he was still coming on.
"Shoot, you ass, shoot!" screamed
Scott.
Again he strained unavaillngly at the
trigger. There were two more pistol
shots, and the big negro had fallen and
risen and fallen again,
"Cock it, you fool!" shouted a furious
voice, nnjl at he same instant, with a
rush and flutter, the Arab bounded over
- A WANNA
WWTER
the prostrate camel aud came down
with his bare feet upon Anerley's chest.
In a dream he seemed to be struggling
frantically with some one upon the
ground, then he was conscious of a
tremendous explosion In his very face,
and so ended for him the tlrst action of
the war.
PART IV.
"Good-by, old chap. You'll be all
right. Give yourself time." - It was
Mortimer's voice, and Anerley became
dimly conscious of a long spectacled
face and of a heavy hand upon his
shoulder.
"Sorry to leave you. We'll be lucky
now If we are in time for the morning
editions." Scott was tightening his
girth as he spoke.
"We'll put In our wire that you have
been hurt, so your people will know
why they don't hear from you. If
Reuter or the evening pennies come up
don't give the thing away. Abbas will
look nfter you, and we'll be back to
morrow afternoon. Bye-bye!"
Anerley heard it all, though he did
not feel energy enough to answer.
Then, as he watched two sleek brown
ponies with their yellow-clad riders
dwindling among t'' rocks, his mem
ory cleared suddenly and he realized
that this first great journalistic chance
of his life was slipping away from him.
It was a small tight, but it was the first
of the war, and the great public at home
was all athirst for news. They whouid
have it In the Courier; they would have
It In the Intelligence, and not a word In
the Gazette. The thought brought him
to his feet, though he had to throw his
arm around the stem of a palm tree to
steady his swimming head.
There was the big black man lying
where he had fallen, his huge chest
pocked with bullet marks, every wound
rosetted with Its circle of Hies. The
Arab was stretched out within a few
yards of him, with two hands clasped
over the dreadful thing which had been
his head. Across hlin was lying Aner
ley's fowling piece, one barrel dis
charged, the other at half cock.
"Scott effendi shoot him your gun,"
said a voice. It was Abbas, his English-speaking
body-servant.
Anerley groaned at the disgrace of it.
He had Inst his head so completely that
he had forgotten to cock his gun; and
yet he knew that it was not fear but
interest which had so absorbed him.
He put his hand up to his head and felt
that a wet handkerchief was bound
round his forehead.
"Where are the two other der
vishes?" "They ran away. One got shot in
arm."
"What happened to me?"
"Effendi got cut on head. Kffendl
catch bad man by arms and Scott
eft'.'iult shoot him. Face burn very
bad."
Anerley became conscious suddenly
that there wus a piingling about his
skin und an overpowering smell of
burned hair under his nostrils. He put
his hand to his mustache. It was gone.
His eyebrows, too? He could not find
tlieni. His head no doubt wus very
near to the dervish's when they were
rolling upon the ground together, and
tills was the effect of the explosion of
his own gun. Well, he would have
time to grow some more hair before he
saw Fleet street again. But the cut
perhaps was a more serious matter.
Was it enough to prevent him from
getting to the telegraph office at Sar
ras? The only way was to try and see.
But there was only that jxior littlte
Syrian gray of his. There it stood in
the evening sunshine with a sunk head
and a bent knee, as if its morning's
work was still heavy upon It. What
hope was there of being able to do thirty-five
miles of heavy going upon that?
It would be a strain upon the splendid
ponies of his companions and they
were the swiftest and most enduring In
the country. The most enduring?
There was one creature more enduring,
and that was a real trotting camel. If
he had had one he might have got to
the wires first after all, for Mortimer
had said that over thirty miles they
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AVENUE.
had the better of any horse. Yes, if
he had only had a real trotting camel!
And then, like a flash, came Morti
mer's words: "It is the kind of beast
that the dervishes ride when they
make their lightning raids."
The beasts the dervishes ride! What
had these dead dervishes ridden? In
an instant he was clambering up the
rocks, with Abbas protesting at his
heels. Had the two fugitives carried
away all the camels, or had they been
content to save themselves? The brass
gleam from a litter of 'empty Reming
ton cases caught his eye and showed
where the enemy had been crouching.
And then he could have shouted for
joy, for there, in the hollow, some little
distance off, rose the high graceful
white neck and fhe elegant head of
such a camel as he had never Bet eyes
upon before a swan-like, beautiful
creature, as far from the rough, clumsy
haggles as the cart-horse is from the
racer.
The beast was kneeling under the
shelter of the rocks with its waterskln
and bags of doora slung over Its shoul
ders, and Its forelegs tethered Arab
fashion with a rope round the knees.
Anerley threw his leg over the front
pommel while Abbas slipped off the
cord. Forward Hew Anerley towards
the creature's neck, then violently
backwards, clawing madly at anything
which iniKht save him. and then with a
jerk, which nearly snapped his Hons,
he was thrown forwnrd again. But the
camel was on his legs now, and the
young pressman wassafely seated upon
one of the flyers of the desert. It was
as gentle as it was swift, and it stood
oscillating Its long neck and gazing
round with Its large brown eyes, whilst
Anerley coiled his legs round the peg
and grasped the curved camel-stick
which Abbas had handed up to him.
There were two bridle cords, one from
the nostril and one from the neck, but
he remembered that Scott had said that
It was the servant's and not the house
bell, which had to be pulled, so he kept
his grasp upon the lower. Then he
touched the long, vibrating neck with
his stick, and in an instant Abbas' fare
wells seemed to come from far behind
him. and the black rocks and yellow
sand were dancing past on either side.
It was his first experience of a trot
ting camel, and at first the motion, al
though Irregular and abrupt, was not
unpleasant. Having no stirrup or fixed
point of any kind he could not rise to it,
but he gripped as tightly as he could
wllh his knee, and he tried to Bway
backwards and forwards us he had seen
the Arabs do. It was a large, very
concave Makloofa saddle, and he was
conscious that he was bouncing about
on It with ns little power of adhesion
us a billiard ball upon a tea tray. He
gripped the two sides with his hands to
fcflld himself steady. The creature had
wot Into its long, swinging, stealthy
trot. Its sponge-like feet making no
sound upon the hard sand. Anerley
leaned back with his two hands grip
ping hard behind him, and he whooped
the creature on.
The sun had already sunk behind flip
line of black volcanic peaks, which look
like huge slag-hcnds at the mouth of a
mine. The western sky hud taken that
lovely light-green and pale-pink tint
which makes evening beautiful upon
the Nile, and the old brown river Itself,
swirling down amongst the black
rocks, caught some shimmer of the
colors above. The glare, the heat and
the piping of the insects had all ceased
together. In spite of his aching head
Anerley .could have cried out for pure
physical joy as the swift creature be
neath him flew along with him through
that cool Invigorating air, with the
virile north wind soothing his piing
ling face.
' He had looked at his watch, and now
he made a swift calculation of times
and distances. It was past six when he
had left the camp. Over broken ground
it was impossible that he could hope to
do more than seven miles an hour less
on bad parts, more on the smooth. His
lgtg
n
THIS
IS
recollection of the traok was that there.
were few smooth and many bad. Be
would be lucky then if ha reached 8ar
ras anywhere from twelve to one. Then
the messages took a good two hours to
go through, for they bad to be tran
scribed at Cairo. At the best he could
only hope to have told his story in Fleet
street at two or three In the morning.
It was possible that he might manage
it, but the chances seemed enrmeusly
against him. About three the morning
edition vould be made up, and his
chances gone forever. The one thing
clear was that only the first man at the
wires would have any chance at all, and
Anerley meant to be first If hard riding
could do it. So he tapped away at the
birdlike neck, and the creature's long,
loose limbs went faster and faster at
every tap. Where the rocky spurs ran
down to the river, horses would have
to go round, while camels might get
across, so that Anerley felt that he was
always gaining upon his companions.
But there wus a price to be paid for
the feeling. He had heard of men who
had burst when on camel journeys.and
he knew that the Arabs swathe their
bodies tightly in broad cloth bandages
when they prepare for a long march.
It had seemed unnecessary and ridicu
lous when he first began to speed over
the level track, but now, when the got
on the rocky paths, he understood what
it meant. Never for an Instance was he
at the same angle. Backwards, for
wards he swung, with a tingling jar at
the end of each sway, until he ached
from his neck to his knee. It caught
him across the shoulders. It caught him
down the spine, it gripped him over
the loins, it marked the lower line of his
ribs with one heavy dull throb. He
clutched here and there with his band
to try and ease the strain upon bis
muscles. He drew his knees, altered
his seat and set his teeth with a grim
determlnationu to go through with it
should it kill htm. His head was split
ting, his Hayed face smarting and every
joint in his body aching as if it were
dislocated. But he forgot all. that
when, with the rising of the moon, h
heard the clinking of horses' hoofs
down upon the track by the river, and
knew that, unseen by them, he had al
ready got well abreast of his compan
ions. But he was hardly half-way and
the time already eleven.
"What's the time?" he cried. In ft
voice that appeared to be the only so
ber thing about him.
It was on the clerk's Hps to say that
it was time that the questioner was in
his bed, but It is not safe upon a cam.
palgn to be Ironical at the expense o
kharkl-clad men. He contented himself
therefore with the bald statement that
it was after two.
"Two o'clock! I'm done after all!"
said he. His head was tied up in
bloody handkerchief, and his face was)
crimson, and he stood with his legs
crooked as if the pith had all gone out
of his back. The clerk began to realise
that something out of the ordinary
was in the wind.
"How long does It take to get a wire
to London?"
"About two hours."
"And It's two now I could not got If
there before four."
"Before three."
"But you said two hours."
"Yes, but there's more than an hour's
difference In longitude."
"By heavens. I'll do it yet!" cried
Anerley, and staggering to a packing
case he began the dictation of his fa-'
mous dispatch.
And so it came about that the Ga
zette had a long column, with head,
lines like an epitaph, when the sheet
of the Intelligence and the Courier were
as blank as the fares of their editors.
And so, too, it happened that when two
weary men, upon two foundered horses,
arrived about four In the morning at
the Sarras pnstomce they looked at
each other In silence and departed
noiselessly with the conviction that
there are some situations with which
the English lnnguage is not oapable of
dealing.
THE END.
It's your fit; just
WEEK
T T
9
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