Adventure, December 1914 — page 68: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

66 disparaging the compliment while gloating secretly. ‘Hal one! Since the Great Iskander there was never such a man as this! He knows what is meet, and makes it so!”’ When the echo of the parting volleys had died down, even the leg-weary rear-guard were in a mood for anything; and Dick lost no time, nor any single whisp of an advan- tage that circumstance had blown his way. His treatment of the dead had been sincere, - as his every single act was always; but he knew the value of impressions on the Ori- ental mind and had no least compunction about turning them to use. He ordered the wounded taken from the wagons where they lay on the cartridge- boxes. He ordered bough-litters made for them, and told off carriers. Next, out came the cartridge-boxes, and he served out two hundred rounds a man. There were thousands on thousands of rounds left over, and he had them packed on the horses. Then he ordered: “Haul the wagons by hand along that ridge! Draw them up in line!” They obeyed him, wondering. In full view of the distant city they arranged a barricade of wagons, overturning them and locking each to each until the whole was like a wall. “Now, guard them for me until my re- turn!”? Dick ordered, riding down to where the rear-guard watched inquisitively. Us- beg Ali stared wide-eyed, but Dick bade him lead the advance-guard now, straight up toward the mountains. ‘“Tead off with the horse!” he ordered. “Throw out a screen ahead and on either flank. Wait for me unless I have caught up before you reach the fifth mile.” “But, dbahadur “What” “Listen! Bur. those wagons!” urged the Afghan. ‘‘They are no use—not any use—they are a target and a hindrance— nothing more!” “They are more use than a little!” an- swered Dick. ‘‘My whole plan hinges on them.” Dick shut his lips tight in a way that Usbeg Ali was beginning now to recognize for the abrupt, blunt end of argument. He saluted and rode away. “Now! ’Tention! Listen!” They had been leaning on their rifles, but This is a new rule, and a better Adventure the crack and resonance Dick gave his words brought them up standing like drilled men. ‘““Vonder in Astrabad there are not many Russians left, but those we have just worsted may rally and return. ‘They are likely to. I am going on, a day’s march from here. If you are attacked, you may send aman to warnme. Meanwhile you— Yussuf Ali—command this _ rear-guard. Stand here, and defend this position and these wagons until I comeback. Don’t trouble to conceal yourselves. Light fires tonight; let the Russians know where you are; and the best way to avoid attack will be to make the Russians think you are more numerous than you are. Fire on their patrols, should they send any; but don’t dare warn me that you need help unless you are outnumbered! If I find you here on my return, good! But deserters from this post will be treated, wherever found, as traitors should be treated! You have seen vour dead honored! I am ready to honor living men when they deserve it! To the wagons—forward—march!”’ b. De | FIVE minutes later he left them 5% digging trenches with whatever tools they could improvise, and he rode away with no doubt in his mind that they would stay there. In the first place, Yussuf Ali was one of Usbeg Ali’s trusted men, and second only to that arch-adven- turer in soldier qualities. Then, too, it had been one thing in the flush of victory to gaze and yearn at close quarters; it was another now to lie and watch Astrabad from a distance, leg-weary and in expecta- tion of attack. Nothing was more certain than that they would see the rallying Cos- sack regiments return and enter the city; nor were they likely to desert then—to scatter and risk piecemeal Cossack ven- geance; they knew that sort of Hell’s de- light too well. They were likely to recog- nize, when they were left alone to think, where, obeying whose orders, they were safest. “Forward!” ordered Dick, riding to the head of the remaining infantry. “Rest here for the night!” they begged him. ‘We are weary men! We _ have fought and won a battle! Let it be the Cossacks’ turn to march sore-footed!”’ “Aye!” put in Andry, leaving his ma- chine-gun to lend weight and height to the argument. ‘I’m a girt, strang, hefty mon MICLOOOK C©