The Kangaroo Marines Part 9

Meantime, the firing had become stronger. Away ahead, Bill's party saw a long line of men lying about on a ridge of sand. They were firing furiously at the advancing scouts.

"I reckon that's a patrol. We'd better scatter them," ordered Bill, going forward in the most brazen manner to capture about twenty men.

According to the rules of war this was impossible. Hence the sudden appearance of a "Bra.s.s Hat" with a white band on his arm.

"Here--you!" he shouted to Bill and his men.

"Well, matey--what's wrong?"

"You're out of action--clear out," said the officer, a little annoyed at the term "matey."

"Hands up," said Bill, shoving in a round of blank and presenting his rifle at the man on the horse.

"Confound your cheek--how dare you----"

"No lip, old c.o.c.k. Get off that gee-gee."

"Don't you know who I am? I'm Colonel Redtabs----"

"And I'm Bill Buster, boss of this scoutin' show. You can't fool me--I'm an Australian."

"Hang it all! Don't you know I'm an umpire?"

"Look here, this ain't a cricket match. Get off, or I'll blow you off," said Bill, fingering his trigger. The old colonel, realising that he was dealing with a too zealous scout, unacquainted with the rules of mimic warfare, jumped off his horse.

"Now, Sandy, get on that horse."

"What?" said Sandy, a little confused.

"Get on that horse or I'll blow you _on_," ordered Bill, somewhat annoyed at the waste of time.

Sandy jumped up.

"Now, take this bloke back to Colonel Killem. Tell him he's a poor fellow wot's wrong in his head, an' thinks he's at a cricket match."

The captured umpire, who was a sportsman with a real sense of humour, laughed heartily as he was led away.

"Knew he was mad," commented Bill, as he watched him go. "Now, Paddy, that patrol has scooted; let's get after them."

The attack was now well into the first stage. The scouts of the Lancashires were fighting a running action with the scouts and patrols of the Australians. From knoll to knoll they were pressed, both sides skilfully using every fold in the ground. Bill, by this time, had increased his army to about twenty men. Using the most original adjectives and a.s.suming a superior air, he ordered his command about like some old fire-eating colonel. His vigorous pursuit kept the enemy busy, but eventually they pulled him up in front of a roughly-made sangar. This was a strong detached post thrown out in front of the outpost line. The defenders gave his little army a fierce fusillade of blank.

"That's up _you_, Buffalo Bill," said the mischievous Doolan.

"Silence in the ranks," roared Bill, who was taking himself very seriously. He carefully surveyed the position, which held fifty men.

They were not to be moved, that was evident. Bill determined to do so.

"Fix bayonets!" he shouted.

"Ain't allowed," said a stripling at his side.

"Fix bayonets!" he ordered again.

"I tell you it ain't allowed at these sham shows. Colonel's orders."

"Look 'ere, you take Bill Buster's orders, or you'll get a thick ear."

That settled the matter.

"Charge!" roared the leader, jumping up and leading the twenty full-blooded desperadoes up to the redoubt.

"Halt, you fellows! Halt!" roared a Lancashire subaltern, jumping up.

"Are you off your bally heads?"

"'Ere, mate, you're supposed to be dead," said Bill, panting and blowing, but holding a bayonet at his chest. The remainder of his party were, meantime, tickling the fast retreating Lancashire lads with the points of their bayonets.

"Don't you know who I am?" said the indignant subaltern.

"Look 'ere, young fellow, you're supposed to be dead."

"How dare you--I'm an officer!"

"I'm Bill Buster. Now will you lie down an' kid you're dead. That's wot you've got to do at these shows."

"Don't be a bally a.s.s!"

"All right, c.o.c.ky; hand me that sword."

As Bill's bayonet looked rather unpleasant, the officer complied. Then Bill sat down. Pulling a black stump of a pencil out of his pocket, he proceed to write a dispatch. It was as follows:

"DEAR CURNEL,--Paddy Doolan an' I, with twenty boys, just captured enemy's position. Enemy running like blazes. The officer bloke refuses to be dead. I'm sending him to you. We're just goin' off to try an' capture a general.--Yours,

"BILL BUSTER."

"P.S.--Did you get that mad fellow wot thinks we're playin' cricket?

Pore chap!"

This letter and the prisoner were dispatched under escort to Colonel Killem in rear. Bill again proceeded to join the long line of scouts which now faced the outposts of the enemy. This was the second stage of the attack. The "screen" now came up and thickened the Australian line. Many officers came with it, so Bill, without protest, vacated the post of "general."

"Bang, bang, bang!" went the rifles. "Z-r-r-p-rip-rip!" went the machine-guns, while the sullen boom of the field artillery in rear indicated that matters were becoming interesting.

"Advance by rushes," ordered the senior Australian officer in the front line.

"Why don't you let us give 'em the bayonet?" muttered Bill, disagreeing with the tactics of his superior.

"Shut up," ordered an old sergeant.

"All right, funny-face."

"Consider yourself a prisoner," was the final word of the N.C.O. as they went forward on the rush. Bill wished for more than a round of blank.