A Lively Bit of the Front Part 20

"What are you men doing?" enquired Captain Nicholson, who, unawares, had made his way along the trench until stopped by the knot of p.r.o.ne riflemen. "Dug-out giving trouble, eh? All right; follow me and we'll rush it."

"Better not, sir," said the Corporal. "We've chucked in a couple of dozen bombs, but still we haven't knocked 'em out."

Although the non-com.'s report was an exaggerated one as to the number of missiles thrown into the mouth of the tunnel, the fact that the defenders were still able to offer resistance was a perplexing problem. According to the rules of the game the bombs ought to have blown the Huns to pieces.

"We've sent for some smoke-bombs," continued the Corporal. "Then, sir, when we've tried these, we'll follow you. Hallo, here they are, the beauties!"

"Four--all I could get," announced the newcomer's well-known voice.

It was d.i.c.k Selwyn--ragged and begrimed, but unharmed.

Handing over the missiles, Selwyn threw himself down by the side of his chum. Not a word pa.s.sed between the two, although they were longing to exchange confidences. All attention was centred upon the sinister hole in front of which the body of Rifleman Joliffe lay--a silent warning of the danger that lurked within.

"You're a left-handed thrower, M'Turk," said Captain Nicholson, who knew the physical capabilities and peculiarities of each individual of his platoon. "Try your hand with one of these."

Being able to throw left-handed gave the Digger a considerable pull over his companions for the work of smoking out the Huns. Without exposing any part of his body, which a right-handed man would have had to do owing to the position of the dug-out, M'Turk could lob the bombs fairly into the mouth of the tunnel.

With unerring accuracy the "stink-bomb" vanished into the dark recess. The New Zealanders could hear it rolling down the steps.

Smoke began to issue from the dug-out, thinly at first, then rapidly increasing in volume and density.

Suddenly a startling apparition dashed through the thick cloud of smoke--a man whose head and body were completely encased in steel.

With arms outstretched the Hun staggered towards the Diggers, coughing violently the while under the irritating influence of the smoke-bomb.

"Collar him!" ordered Captain Nicholson.

A dozen hands seized him. His head-dress was removed, disclosing the features of a pale, insignificant, and spectacled German.

"What a cheek!" exclaimed M'Turk. "Fancy a worm like that holding us up!"

"Science against brute force, chum," remarked the Corporal, pointing to an anti-gas apparatus that dangled from the man's neck. "If it hadn't been that the gadget was smashed we might have gone on bombing till the end of the war."

The prisoner's armour was certainly proof against fragments of bombs, even at close range, as the splayed marks upon the steel testified. With the anti-gas apparatus he had been able to withstand the choking fumes, until a chance splinter of metal had perforated the flexible pipe between the Hun's mouth and the oxygen-container hidden under his back-plate. Although his arms and legs were unprotected, the man had practically escaped injury from the bombs, since the fragments of the exploded missile flew upwards. A gash on the knuckle of his right hand and a few slight scratches on the calves of his legs were the total result of the Anzacs' efforts until the smoke-bomb came into play.

"A chirpy little sausage-eater!" exclaimed Captain Nicholson, who, like his men, was not backward in acknowledging bravery even in an enemy. "See that he is sent back, Corporal. Now, lads, why was he so determined? There's more in this dug-out than meets the eye, I believe. I mean to find out. Who'll back me up?"

CHAPTER XIX

Trapped in a Dug-out

"I will, sir!" said Malcolm promptly.

"And I," added Selwyn.

"Me too," chorused M'Turk and M'Kane.

"And, by gum, how about me?" enquired a l.u.s.ty voice, as Riflemen Joliffe, bleeding profusely from the head, sat up and vainly attempted to regain his feet.

The other New Zealanders had forgotten Grouser Joliffe, or rather they had put him out of their minds until the clearing-up job was completed. One and all had taken it for granted that the rifleman had paid the penalty for his rashness, and had been shot dead on the spot. Had they known that he was only wounded they would have rushed to his aid, but, thinking otherwise, they had no intention of attending to the dead until the wounded were cared for and the position properly consolidated.

It was Joliffe's steel helmet that had saved him. The German's bullet, fired at a range of ten yards, had struck the upper part of the rim and deflected upwards, completely penetrating the head-dress, while the wearer escaped with a scalp wound, rendering him unconscious for a quarter of an hour.

"Another day, Joliffe!" sang out Captain Nicholson. "See to him, you fellows. Now then, Carr, keep close behind me. M'Turk, M'Kane, and Selwyn at three paces interval."

With a revolver in his right hand, and an electric torch in his left, the Captain, bending low, began the descent of the steep flight of steps leading to the dug-out. By this time the noxious vapours had exhausted themselves, although there was still sufficient smoke to dim the rays of the torch.

Rifle and bayonet at the ready, Malcolm followed his officer, his ears on the alert to catch the first sound that might denote the presence of other Hun cave-dwellers.

As he descended, Malcolm found that the smoke was dispersing under the influence of a steady draught of warm air. The tunnel was heavily timbered--top, sides, and floor. Along one side ran a couple of insulated wires, one of which belonged to an electric alarm-bell.

The other was for internal lighting, but every incandescent bulb had been shattered under the terrific concussion of the great Messines mine. In places the ma.s.sive planks were bulging ominously; so much so that Captain Nicholson hesitated more than once.

"What do you make of it, Carr?" he asked, pausing at a particularly bad spot.

"I hardly know, sir," replied Malcolm. "Since the shorings didn't collapse when the mine went up, they ought to stand for a bit longer."

"Suppose so," agreed the youthful officer as he resumed his tour of discovery. "Sort of 'creaking door hangs longest'. Let's hope so in this case."

At the ninety-eighth step--Malcolm counted them carefully--the descent ended. The daring five found themselves in a long room, measuring about eighty feet by ten. On one side were recesses that formed, as they afterwards discovered, the lower part of the lift-tunnel communicating with the open air. At one time the lift had been used for bringing up machine-guns that were stored deep underground in antic.i.p.ation of a heavy bombardment of the British guns. Each recess was piled high with rubble, the result of the stupendous concussion, while a dozen intact machine-guns had been prevented from being brought into action against the attacking infantry.

In the opposite wall were other recesses, panelled and furnished with rich curtains and hangings. Each recess contained a wire mattress and bedding, while articles of a personal nature showed that the former occupants were officers, and not of the rank and file.

"I believe we've struck the brigade headquarters," said Captain Nicholson, flashing his torch into a large recess in which stood a table littered with book and papers. "We'll attend to those doc.u.ments later. No use doing so until we've made sure of our ground. I wonder where the gilded occupants are?"

"From what I know of the blighters, sir," remarked M'Turk, "they didn't show their mugs above ground while we were tumbling over the top."

"Perhaps there's another way out--a sort of bolt-hole," suggested Selwyn. "Hope they haven't ruined the show?"

"No likely," replied Captain Nicholson briskly, "As for your idea of a bolt-hole, there's something in that. It would account for that fellow in that sardine-can suit holding out so long, just to give them time to get clear. Ssh! Ssh! What's that?"

The men stood on the alert for some moments.

A m.u.f.fled cough broke the silence. Then came the dull thud of a pick being driven into soft earth.

"This way," ordered the Captain, striding towards the end of the room. "Get a bomb ready."

"Not a blessed one between the lot of us, sir," reported M'Kane.

"Thought we'd finished with Mills's pills for a bit. I'll nip back and get a few."

Captain Nicholson hesitated.

"No need," he decided. "The fellows, whoever they are, are trapped.

They'll give in when they find that the game's up."

In the panelled wall, so skilfully fashioned that it almost escaped attention, was a door. The New Zealanders stopped and listened.

Voices were heard talking excitedly, to the accompaniment of the tearing of paper.