Wilmshurst of the Frontier Force Part 14

"I wonder what Tarry Barrel has been doing?" thought Dudley as he hastened to report to his C.O.

Colonel Quarrier was laughing, so were the adjutant and the regimental sergeant-major. In the former's hand was the unrolled sc.r.a.p of paper on which the airmen's message was written.

"It's all right, after all, Mr. Wilmshurst," said the colonel. "Your runner is a bit of a blockhead, as I think you'll admit. Evidently under the impression that these coloured ribbons were a present to me from the skies, he handed over the streamers, while the case containing the writing, which had been soiled when it fell to the ground, he carefully cut off and threw away. As you are here you may as well inform your company commander the news: the --th and --th Pathans are in their prearranged positions. There will be a twenty-minutes'

bombardment by the mountain battery in conjunction with an attack by the seaplane. At four forty-five the Waffs will advance in three lines to the a.s.sault. That's all, Mr. Wilmshurst."

The subaltern saluted and withdrew. It was now three o'clock and an hour and three-quarters were to elapse before the battalion went into action.

"Looks as if we've cornered the beggars, Mr. Wilmshurst," remarked the major, when Dudley had communicated the C.O.'s message. "I suppose they are still there," he added.

The two officers searched the crest of the hill through their field-gla.s.ses. So elaborate and skilful were the enemy defences that the powerful lenses failed to detect any trace of the rifle pits and sand-bagged parapets of the trenches. Nor were any troops visible.

The top of the table-land looked as deserted as an unexplored land in the Polar regions.

Wilmshurst lowered his binoculars. He was about to make some reply when to the accompaniment of a shrill whistling sound his helmet was whisked from his head, falling to the ground a good ten feet from where he stood.

For some minutes the two officers regarded each other, the major anxiously the other whimsically.

"Hit?" asked the major laconically.

"No, sir," replied Wilmshurst.

"Jolly near squeak," continued the other. "I think we'll choose a little less exposed position to resume our observations."

Dudley retrieved his helmet. A couple of clean-cut holes marked the entry and exit of a bullet, the missile having missed the subaltern's head by a fraction of an inch.

"We've drawn their fire, sir," he exclaimed. "They are still there."

"A sniper at eight hundred yards, I should imagine," observed the company commander. "A jolly good shot for a Hun. We'll try our luck again."

Making their way to the depression in the ground where the Haussas of "A" and "B" Companies were lying, the two officers set a couple of men to work to rig up a dummy soldier. When complete the effigy was slowly moved so that from the hostile position it gave the appearance of a Haussa brazenly and defiantly moving out in the open, while a dozen officers swept the ground on their front with their field-gla.s.ses to try to detect the faint flash of a sniper's rifle.

A puff of smoke rose from behind a bush at a distance of half a mile, and almost immediately following the sharp crack of a rifle a bullet "knocked spots" off the effigy.

Without hesitation twenty or more Haussas let fly in the direction of the puff of smoke.

"What are you aiming at, men?" shouted the major.

The score of blacks grinned unanimously. In their minds they had no suspicion but that they had acted promptly and efficaciously.

Again the dummy was held aloft, and again the same thing happened.

"I've spotted him, sir!" exclaimed Wilmshurst. "Caught sight of the flash about fifty yards to the right. Fritz, old sport, you're exposed."

While the riflemen were keeping up a hot fire upon the bush that they supposed was concealing the sniper the company-commander ordered Bela Moshi to turn a machine gun upon the position that Wilmshurst had spotted.

Before twenty-four rounds had been let loose a man sprang three feet in the air, and fell inertly upon the ridge that had but imperfectly protected him.

"Dead as mutton," reported Wilmshurst, after bringing his gla.s.ses to bear upon the ill-starred Hun. "He nearly had me, though," he soliloquised, tentatively fingering the double perforation in his helmet.

There was no lack of volunteers to examine the sniper's lair.

Regardless of the risk of being potted at by other enemy riflemen Bela Moshi, Tari Barl, and Spot Cash crept forward, taking advantage of every available bit of cover.

In twenty minutes the Haussas returned, reporting in characteristically native terms that the German's head had been literally riddled with the burst of bullets from the Maxim. They brought his rifle and ammunition, his field gla.s.ses and a small electric battery. In connection with the latter wires were run from the sniper's lair to the bush from which the puffs of smoke had been seen. Here small charges of black powder had been placed so as to be exploded from a safe distance and thus deceive the Haussas as to the rifleman's actual position. The Hun was a bit of a strategist, but he had overreached himself. It was the dense smoke from the black powder that had given him away. Had he used the so-called smokeless powder the Haussas might have expended hundreds of rounds without discovering the cheat.

Wilmshurst examined the weapon that had so nearly done him in. It was an improved Mauser, bearing the German Government proof mark and the date 1917, and was fitted with the latest approved type of telescopic sight, while on the muzzle was fixed a small metal cylinder that effectually silenced the report.

"That's strange, sir," he remarked to the major. "We distinctly heard the report."

"We did," agreed the company commander. "I cannot understand it unless the Boche for some reason fired several rounds with the silencer removed. If so, why?"

Before the discussion could be carried further a dull, booming sound came from behind the table-land of M'ganga, while at a little height behind the German position appeared the mushroom-like cloud of white smoke as the shrapnel burst.

"Good!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the company commander, replacing his binoculars.

"We've had the orchestral selection; the curtain rises on the First Act."

CHAPTER XII

THE STORMING OF M'GANGA

A loud whirring noise audible above the distant cannonade announced that the seaplane was pa.s.sing overhead to partic.i.p.ate in the strafing of Fritz. Of necessity the airmen had to fly high in order to avoid being hit by the British shrapnel, but the summit of M'Ganga offered a big target and the bombs were soon dropping merrily upon the trenches, dug-outs, and storehouses of von Lindenfelt's position.

In a very few minutes the table-land was enveloped in a piebald pall of smoke, yet no return fire came from the two 4.1 inch guns that were known to be with von Lindenfelt's column. Apart from the bursting sh.e.l.ls and bombs there were no evidences of movement in the Huns'

stronghold--a circ.u.mstance that caused the Waff officers to wonder deeply and mutter under their breath.

"Fix bayonets!"

The sharp click of the weapons being fixed to the rifles rattled along the line of excited Haussas. Then in open order the blacks hurried forward to take cover. Nor did any hostile bullet seek to check their progress. Without hindrance the black and khaki steel-tipped line gained a pre-arranged position within four hundred yards of the base of M'Ganga plateau.

Here the men were halted to take a "breather" before essaying the final task, while the company officers foregathered, consulting their synchronised watches. In another ten minutes--five minutes before the time for the bombardment to cease--the Haussas were to start on their desperate frontal attack.

"How goes it?" enquired Wilmshurst of Jock Spofforth, as the giant strolled leisurely across from the platoon.

"Rotten," admitted the other candidly. His big fingers were trembling slightly as he applied a match to a cigarette. "First time going into action, you know. It's the hanging about business that gets on a fellow's nerves."

"You'll be all right when the advance sounds," declared Dudley. "I felt like it once."

"Simply had to stroll over and have a palaver with you," continued Spofforth. "I was afraid that my men would spot my hands trembling.

Hope the Boches are standing. Hang it all! Why did nature let me grow to this height?"

Spofforth was laughing now. The mental tension of the seemingly interminable wait was over.

"Two minutes more--hop it, old man," cautioned Wilmshurst. "The best of luck."

The whistles sounded. Almost immediately, as if by some uncanny means the distant gunners saw that the infantry were in motion, the strafe ceased. Overhead the seaplane still circled. The bomb-dropping part of their task completed the airmen lingered to watch the advance, and if occasion offered to a.s.sist the storming troops by means of their Lewis gun.