The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1896-10-05
THE THREE !.
CORRESPONDENTS
AN OF
~ g CONAN Do1LE. III SOUDAN CAMPAIGN
Copyright. 1896. by A. Conan Doyle,

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 woolly puff of smoke,
and there was another one, but never once
had they caught a glimpse of the attackers
To him there was something weird and
awesome in these unseen persistent men
who, minute by minute, were drawing
closer to them. He had heard them cry
out when the kettle was broken, and once
Immediately afterwards an enormously
strong voice had roared something which
had set Scott Struggling his shoulders.
They've got to take us first" said he,
and Anerlcy thought his nerve might be
better if he did not ask for a translation.
The firing had begun at a distance of
some hundred yards, which put it out of
the question for them, with their lighter
weapons, to make any reply to it. Had
their antagonists continued to keep that
range the defenders mus either have made
a hopeless sally or tried to shelter them
selves behind their zareba as best they
might on the chance that the sound might
bring up help. But, luckily for them, the
African had not taken kindly to the rifle.
and hisl primitive instinct to close with his
enemy is always too strong for his sense of
strategy. They were drawing in, therefore,
and now for. the first time Anerley caught
sightso of a TaeA1poking at them from over
a rock. 1t was a huge, virile, strengthened
head of a pure negro type. with silver
trinkets cleaning in the ears. The man
raised a great arm from behind the rock
and shook his Remington at them.
Shall / fire. asked Anerley.
mo, no, it is too far; your shot would
scatter all over the place.
It's a picturesque r%uffian.'' said Scott.
Couldn't you kodak him, Mortimer?
There's another.'
A fine-featured brown Arab, with a black
pointed beard, was peeping from behind
another bowlder. He wore the green tur-
ban which proclaimed him hadji, and his
face showed the keen nervous exaltation
of the religious fanatic.
They seem a piebald crowd" said Scott.
That last is one of the real fighting Bag
CARA" remarked Mortimer. He's a danger
Gus man.
He looks pretty vicious. There's another
negro!'
Two more! Dingas, by the look of them.
Just the same chaps we get our black bat
talions from. AS long as they get.a fight
they don't mind who it's 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 gnash-
ing his teeth at the very men who put down
the slave trade"
"Couldn't you explain?'
I'll explain with the pistol when he
comes a little nearer. Now, sit tight. An
erley. They're off,"
They were, indeed. 1t was the brown
man with the green turban who headed the
rush Close tn his heals uac fha ae,ro
with silver earrings-a giant of a man, and
the other two were only a little behind. AS
they sprang over the rocks one after an
other it took Anerley back to the school
sports when he held the tape for the hurdle
race. 1t was magnificent, the wild spirit
and abandon of it. the futter of the
chequered galabeeahs, the CLEAN of steel,
the wave of black arms, the frenzied faces,
the quick patter-patter of the rushing feet.
The law-abiding Briton is so imbued 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 inten-
ton of killing him, and that he was at per-
feet liberty to do as much for them. He lay
staring as if this were a show and he a
spectator.
Now, AnerIey, now! Take the Arabt'
cried somebody.
He put up the gun and saw the. brown
fierce face at the other end of the barrel.
He tugged at the trigger, but the face grew
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 Arabs
brown breast. But ne was still coming on.
"Shoot, you ass, shoot screamed Scott.
Again he strained unavailingly at the
trigger. There were two more pistol shots
and the hir negro had fallen and ricap and
fallen again.
Cock it, you fool" shouted a furious
voice, and at the same instant, with a rush
and flutter, the Arab bounded over the
PROSTATE camel and came down with his
bare feet upon Aneriey'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 first
action OF the war.
(To be Concluded Tomorrow