J^^ \V"'> V^o m » ^; //. McnJ^.x^ y/ir^i., r(. 7 Ma^, /Sh'(s\ I H^H ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^Kar;i^^B 1 ^K ^^^B ^^^^^.' ',^^^lfi ^^^^^^^^^^^ft^lif^^ll^f 1^ ;, F" ^^^ ^<^?^ ^^- _^,^^.*-:';^ ^^^Pllpliil m ^ffl^ ^M:'W: ■ ;^-B'pi'V. £• ' ^ ^^'. fei«3»i^ jsSi^' 4 ^^%. ■'^'X ■■^^^ w #i "iZ^^^^-yMi- IS j,^^^.^ .-^ <;ii : 1 ^4il> '; ' ,'^, ■ ':..: ^^^^^^ - '-r'^^^B SERGEANT GOTSUCHAKOFF IN DANGER. -Page 250. (Froji^isj.nece.) k 1 UlrH r m THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS Jl ^aU xrf ifiobutt gHar. BY E. M. BALLANTYNE, AUTHOR OF "the SETTLER AND THE SAVAGE;" "UNDER THE WAVES, OR DIVINO IN DEEP waters;" "rivers OF ice;" " black IVORY ; " "the pirate city;" " THE NORSEMEN IN THE WEST ; " " THE IRON HORSE ; " " THE FLOATING LIGHT OF THE GOODWIN SANDS;" " ERLING THE BOLD;" "FIGHTING THE FLAMES;" "SHIFTING WINDS;" "DEEP down;" " THE LIGHTHOUSE ; " "THE LIFEBOAT ; " "GASCOYNE;" "THE GOLDEN DREAM," ETC. ETC. ©Eith illustratirrns. NEW EDITION. LONDON: JAMES NISBET & CO., 21 BERNERS STREET. 1881. {All rights reserved.] EBrtTBrRGH : PUTNTKO by THOMAS AKD AECHIBALD COTTSTABLE, PfiLNTERS TO THE QDEEN, AND TO THE UNIVERSITY. PREFACE. Jeffey Childeks, the hero and narrator of this tale, was introduced to me by Mr. Brain, a friend who, in the course of a pretty long acquaintance, has favoured me with numerous introductions to people of varied character — good, bad, and in- different. Mr. Childers was so importunate, and urged me with so much fervour to supervise his work — to point his moral and adorn his tale — that I con- sented to do so on the distinct understanding that T should be entitled to verify all liis facts, modify his sentences, reverse his objectionable judgments, and exclude everything that should in any degree savour of exaggeration. The intelligent reader will thus easily understand the relation that sub- sists between Jeffry Childers and myself. In pursuance of this arrangement I sought and obtained permission — nny, was kindly invited — to make a brief sojourn nn board of Her Majesty's 025 iv PREFACE. turret- ship Thunderer, and was thns enabled to verify my hero's representations of that tremendous vessel of war, which I found to be perfectly truthful, though it is just possible that naval men may detect a few trifling errors in technical details, which neither Mr. Childers nor I — ^both being landsmen — could be expected to escape falling into. Before going further, let me avail myself of this opportunity to return my sincere thanks and acknowledgments to Captain J. C. Wilson and his officers for the kindness and hospitality extended to me during my ten days* stay on board the great iron-clad. Having, however, no " friend at court " in those Eastern regions in which most of this tale is laid, T have not been able personally to verify my hero's statements and narratives regarding them : but this is of little consequence, as through the columns of their respective papers, I have been assisted in the most generous manner by the " war correspon- dents " of the whole kingdom, and as these gentlemen are noted for the impartiality of their views, and for their strict adherence to truth, I feel confidence in assuring the reader that all the important parts of this tale, being founded on well-known PREFACE. V facts, may be depended on with perfect safety* To make assurance doubly sure, however, I have carefully collated the narratives of correspondents — after eliminating their opinions — and, by fusing all together, and subjecting them to the crucial treatment of my friend Brain, have, I believe, obtained the truth pretty clearly distilled. In conclusion I beg leave to apologise for the length of this Preface. R. M. BALLANTYNE. London, 1878, CONTENTS. PAQB CHAP. I. —REVEALS THE EXPLOSIVE NATURE OF MY EARLY CAREER, 1 IL— IS STILL MORE EXPLOSIVE THAN THE PREVIOUS, . 17 III. —AN INTERVIEW WITH MEN IN POWER, ... 28 IV.— A DAY WITH THE TORPEDOES, 42 v.— TERRIBLE TORPEDO TALES FOLLOWED BY OVERTURNED PLANS, 62 VL— TURK AND BULGARIAN— A WRESTLING MATCH AND A DISPUTE VIL— THE BLACK CLOUDS GATHER, 98 VIII.— TREATS OF TORPEDOES, TERRIBLE CATASTROPHES, UN- EXPECTED MEETINGS, AND SUCH LIKE, . . . 109 IX.— IN WHICH LANCEY IS TRIED, SUSPECTED, BLOWN UP, CAPTURED, HALF-HANGED, DELIVERED, AND ASTONISHED, 122 X. — INVOLVES LANCET IN GREAT PERPLEXITIES, WHICH CULMINATE IN A VAST SURPRISE, . . . .141 XI. — REFERS TO TWO IMPORTANT LETTERS AND A SECRET MISSION, 162 XIL— MY FIRST EXPERIENCE OF ACTUAL WAR, AND MY THOUGHTS THEREON, 169 XlfL -SHOWS WHAT SOMETIMES HAPPENS IN THE TRACK OF TROOPS, 188 XIV. — TELLS MORE OF WHAT OCCASIONALLY HAPPENS IN THE TP.ACK OF TROOPS, . . 197 Vlll CONTENTS. PAGE CHAP. XV.— SISTOVA— NEW VIEWS OP WAR— LANCEY GOES TO THE FRONT, SEES SERVICE, AND GETS A SCARE, . . 211 XVI.— LANCEY GETS EMBROILED IN TROUBLES, AND SEES SOME PECULIAR SERVICE, 223 XVII.— IN WHICH SOME DESPERATE ENTERPRISES ARE UNDER- TAKEN, . 239 XVIII. — TREATS OF ONE OF OUR GREAT IRONCLADS, . . . 259 XIX.— DESCRIBES A STIRRING FIGHT, 277 XX.— TREATS OF WAR AND SOME OF ITS "GLORIOUS" RE- SULTS, 288 XXL— MORE OF THE RESULTS OF WAR, * . . . . 311 XXII.— THE FALL OF PLEVNA, 319 XXIIL— WOE TO THE *' AUBURN HAIR !" — AFTER THE BATTLE — PROWLING VILLAINS PUNISHED, .... 335 XXIV.— FAREWELL TO SANDA PASHA— A SCUFFLE, AND AN UNEXPECTED MEETING, 347 XXV. — DESCRIBES A WRECK AND THE TRIUMPH OF LOVE, . 363 XXVI.— SOME MORE OF WAR'S CONSEQUENCES, . . . .374 LIST OF ILLUSTEATIONS. SERGEANT GOTSUCHAKOFF IN DANGER (p. 250), Frontisj)iece VIGNETTE TITLE. THE TURKS TORPEDOED to face page \ld> JACOB LANCEY PUT TO FLIGHT, 221 THE TRENCHES STORMED, 307- AFTER THE BATTLE, 342 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS; A TALE OF MODERN WAE. CHAPTER I. REVEALS THE EXPLOSIVE NATURE OF MY EARLY CAREER. The remarkable — I miglit even say amazing — personal adventures which I am about to relate occurred quite recently. They are so full of interest to myself and to my old mother, that I hasten to write them down while yet vivid and fresh in my memory, in the hope that they may prove interesting, — to say nothing of elevating and instructive, — to the Eng- lish-speaking portions of the liuman race throughout the world. The dear old lady to whom I have just referred — my mother — is one of the gentlest, meekest, tenderest beings of my acquaintance. Iler regard A 2 IX THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS for me is almost idolatrous. My feelings towards lier are tinged with adoration. From my earliest years I have been addicted to analysis. Some of my younger readers may not perhaps know that by analysis is meant the reduction of compound things to their elements — the turning of things, as it were, inside out and tearing them to pieces. All the complex toys of infancy I was wont to reduce to their elements; I turned them inside out to see what they were made of, and how they worked. A doll, not my own, but my sister Bella's, which had moveable eyelids and a musical stomach, was treated by me in this manner, the result being that I learned little, while my poor sister suffered much. Everything in my father's house suffered more or less from this inquiring tendency of my mind. Time, however, while it did not abate my thirst for knowledge, developed my constructive powers. I became a mechanician and an inventor. Per- petual motion was my first hobby. Six times during the course of boyhood did I burst into my mother's presence with the astounding news that I had " discovered it at last." The mild and trustful being believed me. Six times also was I compelled to acknowledge to her that I had ]j.een mistaken, and again she believed me, more A TALT': OF MODERN WAR. 3 tliorouglily, perhaps, than at first. No one, I think, can form the least idea of the delight with which I pursued this mechanical will-o'-the-wisp. Growing older, I took to chemistry, and here my love for research and analysis found ample scope, A\hile the sufferings of my father's household were intensified. I am not naturally cruel — far from it. They little knew how much pain their sufferings caused me ; how earnestly I endeavoured to lessen or neutralise the nuisances which the pursuit of science entailed. But I could not consume my own smoke, or prevent explosions, or convert bad and suffocating odours into sweet smells. Settling down to this new pursuit with intense enthusiasm, I soon began to flow in my natural course, and sought to extend the bounds of chemical knowledge. I could not hel^^ it. The particular direction in which my interest ultimately became concentrated was that of explosives. After becoming acquainted with gun-cotton, nitro-glycerine, dynamite, lithofracteur, and other combinations of powerfully-explosive agents, I took to searching for and inventing methods by which these might be utilised. To turn everything to good account, is a desire which 1 cannot resist. Explosives naturally drew my attention to mines — tin-mines, coal-mines, and other commercial enterprises. They also suggested war and torpedoes. 4 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS At that time I had not reflected on tlie nature of war. I merely knew it to be a science, cultivated chiefly by the human race, and that in its practice explosives are largely used. To " blow-up " effec- tively, whether in a literal or figurative sense, is difficult. To improve this power in war, and in the literal sense, I set myself to work. I invented a torpedo, which seemed to me better than any that had yet been brouglit out. To test its powers, I made a miniature fortification, and blew it up. I also blew up our groom, Jacob Lancey. It happened thus : — The miniature fortress, w^hich was made of card- board, earth, and bricks, was erected in a yard near our stables. Under its walls the torpedo was placed, and the match lighted. It was night and very dark. I had selected the hour as being that most suitable to the de- struction of an enemy's stronghold. The match was very slow in burning. jNIatches invariably are so in the circumstances. Suddenly I heard the sound of footsteps. Next moment, before I had time to give warning, Jacob Lancey came round the corner of the stables with a pitchfork on his shoulder, and walked right into the fortress. He set his foot on the prin- cipal gateway, tripped over the ramparts, and falling headlong into the citadel, laid its banner in the dust. At the same instant there came a terrific flash and A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 5 crash, and from the midst of smoke and flames, the groom appeared to shoot into the air ! With feelings of horror I sprang to the rescue, and dragged the poor fellow from the smoking debris. He was stunned at first, but soon recovered, and then it was found that one of the fingers of his left hand had been completely blown off. Words cannot describe my feelings. I felt as if I had be- come next thing to a murderer. Lancey was a tall powerful man of about thirty, and not easily killed. He had received no other injury worth mentioning. Although the most faithful of servants, he was irascible, and I anticipated an explosion of temper when he recovered sufficieutly to understand the nature of his injury, but I was mistaken. The blowing-up seamed to have quite cured his temper — at least as regarded myself, for when I afterwards went to see him, with a very penitent face, he took my hand and said — " Don't take on so. Master Jeffry. You didn't do it apurpus, you know, and, after all, it 's on'y the little fincjer o' the left hand. It'll be rather hout o' tlie way than otherwise. Moreover, I was used to make a baccy stopper o' that finger, an' it strikes me that the stump '11 fit the pipe better than the ])int did, besides bein' less sensitive to fire, who knows? Any'ow, Master Jeffry, you've got no occasion to Lnieve over it so." 6 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS I felt a little comforted when the good fellow spoke thus, but I could not forgive myself. For some time after that I quite gave up my chemical and other experiments, and when I did ultimately resume them, I went to w^ork with extreme caution. Not long after this event I went to college, and studied medicine. My course was nearly completed w^hen my dear father died. He had earnestly desired that I should enter the medical profession. I therefore resolved to finish my course, although, being left in possession of a small estate named Tagend, in Devonshire, and an ample income, it was not requisite that I should practise for a livelihood. One morning, a considerable time after my studies were completed, I sat at breakfast with my mother. " Jeff," she said (my name is Jeifry Childers) ; " Jeff, what do you think of doing now ? Being twenty-four, you ought, you know, to have some fixed idea as to the future, for, of course, though independent, you don't intend to be idle." " Right, mother, right," I replied, " I don't mean to be an idler, nevertheless I don't mean to be a doctor. I shall turn my mind to chemistry, and talking of that, I expect to test the powers of a particular compound to-day." "And what," said my mother, with a peculiar smile, " is the nature of this compound ? " A TALE OF MODERN WATl. 7 " Violently explosive," said I. " Ah, of course, I might have guessed that, Jeff, for most of your compounds are either violently ex- plosive or offensive — sometimes both ; but what is the name of this one ? " " Before ans^Yering that," said I, pulling out my watch, " allow me to ask at v/liat hour you expect Bella home to-day. " " She half promised to be over to breakfast, if cousin Kate would let her away. It is probable that she may arrive in less than an hour." " Curious coincidence," said I, " that her lover is likely to arrive about the same time ! " "What! Nicholas Naranovitsch?" " Yes. The ship in which he sailed from St. Petersburg arrived late last night, and I have just received a telegram, saying that he wdll be down by the first train this morning. Love, you know, is said to have wings. If the pair given to Narano- vitsch are at all in keeping with his powerful frame, they will bear him swiftly to Fagend." It may interest the reader at this point to know that my only sister, Bella, had been engaged tlie previous year to one of my dearest college friends, a young Eussian, whose father had sent him to finish his education in England. My own father liaving been a merchant, many of whose dealings were with Bussia, had frequently visited St. Peters- 8 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS burg, and twice my mother and sister and I ac- companied him thither. While there we had met with the Naranovitsch family. Young Nicholas was now in the army, and as fine-looking a fellow as one could wish to see. Not only was he strong and manly, but gentle in manner and tender of heart. My sister Bella being the sweetest — no, not quite that, for there is a pretty young — well, no matter — Bella being, as I iiiay say, one of the sweetest girls in England, he fell in love with her, of course. So did she with him ; no wonder ! During a visit to our place in Devonshire at the end of his college career, he and Bella became engaged. Nicholas returned to St. Petersburg to obtain his parents' consent to thv union, and to make arrangements. He was rich, and could afford to marry. At the time I write of, he was coming back, not to claim his bride, for his father thought him still too young, but to see her, and to pay us a visit. " Now you know, motlier," said I, " after the young people have seen each other for half-an-hour or so, they will naturally want to take a walk or a ride, and — " " Only half-an-hour ? " interrupted my mother, with one of her peculiar little smiles. " Well, an hour if you like, or two if they prefer it," I returned ; " at all events they will want a A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 9 walk before luncheon, and I shall take the oppor- tunity to show them some experiments, which prove the power of the singular compound about which you questioned me just now." " The explosive ? " " Yes. Its name is dynamite." "And what may that be, Jeff? Something very awful, I daresay," remarked my mother, with a look of interest, as she sipped her tea. " Very awful, indeed," said I ; "at least its effects a.re sometimes tremendous." " What ! worse than gunpowder ?" " Ay, much worse, though I should prefer to say hcttcr than gunpowder." " Dear me ! " rejoined my mother, lifting her eyebrows a little, in surprise. " Yes, much better," I continued ; " gunpowder only bursts things — " " Pretty well that, Jeff, in the way of violence, isn't it?" " Yes, but nothing to dynamite, for while powder only bursts things, dynamite shatters them. " How very dreadful ! What is dynamite ? " " That is just what I am about to explain," said I. " You must know, then, that it is a com- pound." " Dear, dear," sighed my niotlier ; " how many compounds you have told me about, Jefl", since you 10 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS took to chemistry ! Are there no 2mcompounded things — no simple things in the world ? " " Why, yes, mother ; you are a simple thing, and I only wish there were a good many more simple things like you in the world — " " Don't be foolish, Jeff, but answer my question,'* " Well, mother, there are indeed some simple elements in creation, but dynamite is not one of them. It is composed of an excessively explosive oil named nitro-glycerine (itself a compound), and an earth called kieselghur. The earth is not ex- plosive, and is only mixed with the nitro-glycerine to render that liquid less dangerous ; but the com- pound is named dynamite, in which form it is made up and sold in immense quantities for mining pur- poses. Here is some of it," I added, pulling from my pocket a cartridge nearly two inches in length, and about an inch in diameter. " It is a soft, pasty substance done up, as you see, in cartridge-paper, and this little thing, if properly fired, would blow a large boulder-stone to atoms." " Bless me, boy, be careful !" exclaimed my mother, pushing back her chair, in some alarm. " There is no danger," I said, in reassuring tones, " for this cartridge, if opened out and set on fire by a spark or flame, would not, in the first place, light readily, and, in the second place, it would merely burn without exploding ; but if I were to put a A TALE OF MODERN WAK. 11 detonator inside and fire it by means of that, it ^vould explode with a violence that far exceeds the force of gunpowder." " And what is this wonderful detonator, Jeff, that so excites the latent fury of the dynamite ?" I was much amused by the pat way in which my mother questioned me, and became more interested as I continued my explanation. " You must know," I said, " that many powders are violently explosive, and some more so than others. This violence of explosion is called detona- tion, by which is meant the almost instantaneous conversion of the ultimate molecules of an explosive compound (i.e. the whole concern) into gas." " I see ; you mean that it goes off quickly," said my mother, in a simple way that was eminently characteristic. " Well, yes ; but much more q'n'ckly than gun- powder does. It were better to say that a powder detonates when it all explodes at the same instant. Gunpowder appears to do so, but in reality it does not. One of the best detonators is fulminate of mercury. Detonating caps are therefore made of this, and one such cap put into the middle of that cartridge of dynamite and set fire to, by any means, would convert the cartridge itself into a detonator, and explode it with a shattering effect. " A human being," I continued, " sometimes 12 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS illustrates this principle figuratively — I mean the violent explosion of a large cartridge by means of a small detonator. Take, for example, a school- master, and suppose him to be a dynamite cartridge. His heart is a detonating cap. The schoolroom and boys form a galvanic battery. His brain may be likened to a con ducting- wire. He enters the school- room ; the chemical elements are seething in riot, books are being torn and thrown, ink spilt, etc. Before opening the door, the good man is a quiet piece of plastic dynamite, but the instant his eye is touched, the electric circuit is, as it were, completed ; the mysterious current flashes through the brain, and fires his detonating heart. Instantly the gleam- ing flame shoots with lightning-speed to temples and toes. The entire man becomes a detonator, and he explodes in a violent hurricane of kicks, cuffs, and invective ! Now, without a detonator — a. heart — the man might have burned with moderate wrath, but he could not have exploded." "Don't try illustration, Jeff," said my plain- spoken mother, gently patting my arm ; " it is not one of your strong points." " Perhaps not ; but do you understand me ?" *' I think I do, in a hazy sort of way." Dear mother! she always professes to compre- hend things hazily, and indeed I sometimes fear that her conceptions on the rather abstruse matters A TALE OF MODEKN WAIL 13 vvliicli I bring before her are not always correct ; but it is delightful to watch the profound interest with which she listens, and the patient efforts she makes to understand. I must in justice add that she sometimes, though not often, displays gleams of clear intelligence, and powers of close incisive reasoning, that quite surprise me. " But now, to return to what we were speaking of — my future plans," said I ; "it seems to me that it would be a good thing if I were to travel for a year or so and see the world." " You might do worse, my boy," said my mother. " With a view to that," I continued, " I have resolved to purchase a yacht, but before doing so I must complete the new torpedo that I have invented for the navy ; that is, I hope it may be introduced into our navy. The working model in the outhouse is all but ready for exhibition. "When finished, I shall show it to the Lords of the Admiralty, and after tliey have accepted it I will throw study overboard for a time and go on a cruise." " Ah, Jeff, Jeff," sighed my mother, with a shake of her head, " you '11 never leave off till you get blown up. But I suppose you must have your way. You always had, dear boy." " But never in opposition to your wishes, had I ? Now be just, mother." " Quite true, Jeff, quite true. How comes it, I 14 IN THE TllACK OF THE TliOOPS wonder, that you are so fond of fire, smoke, fumes, crash, clatter, and explosions ? " " Eeally," said I, somewhat amused by the ques- tion, " I cannot tell, unless it be owing to some- thing in that law of compensation which appears to permeate the universe. You have such an ab- horrence of fire, fumes, smoke, crash, clatter, and explosions, that your only son is bound, as it were, to take special delight in chemical analysis and combination, to say nothing of mechanical force and contrivance, in order that a balance of some sort may be adjusted which would otherwise be thrown out of order by your — pardon me — com- parative ignorance of, and indifference to such matters." " Nay, Jeff," replied niy mother, gently, with a look of reproof on her kind face ; " ignorance if you will, but not indifference. I cannot be indif- ferent to anything that interests you." " True; forgive me; I should have said 'dislike.'" " Yes, that would have been correct, Jeff, for I cannot pretend to like the bursting, smoking, and ill-smelling things you are so fond of; but you know I am interested in them. You cannot have forgotten how, when you were a boy, I used to run at your call to witness your pyrotechnic, hydraulic, mechanic, and chemic displays — you see how well I remember the names — and how the — " A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 1 5 " The acids," I interrupted, taking up the theme, ** ruined your carpets and table-cloths, and the smoke stifled and blinded, while the noise and flames terrified you ; no, mother, I have not for- gotten it, nor the patient way you took the loss of your old silk dress, or — " " Ah ! yes," sighed the dear old lady, with quite a pitiful look, " if it had been any other than my weddinGf dress, which — but — well, it 's of no use regretting now ; and you know, Jeff, I would not have checked you for worlds, because 1 knew you were being led in the right way, though, in my folly, I sometimes wished that the way had been a little further removed from smoke and smells. Butj after all, you were very careful, dear boy — wonderfully so, for your years, and your little accidents did not give me much pain beyond the day of their occurrence. The poisoning of the cat, to be sure, was sad, though unavoidable, and so was the destruction by fire of the cook's hair ; but the flooding of the house, after the repairs you executed on the great cistern, and the blowing out of the laundry window at the time the clothes-boiler was cracked, with other trifles of that sort, were — " The remainder of my mother's speech was cut short by a clattering of hoofs. Next moment my sister Bella came round tlie corner of the house at full gallop, her fresh face 16 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS beaming with the exercise, and her golden hair streaming in the breeze. She pulled up, leaped off her pony, and ran into the room. As she did so, I observed a tall, soldierly man appear in the avenue, advancing with rapid strides. Well did I know his grave, handsome face. " Here comes Nicholas ! " said I, turning round ; but Bella had fled. I observed that my friend, instead of coming straight to the room from the window of which my mother and I had saluted him, turned sharp off to the library. I was running to the door to welcome him, when my mother called me back. I turned and looked at her. She smiled. So did I. Without uttering a word we both sat down to finish our breakfast. " Ah ! Jeff," said my mother, with a little sigh, " how I wish you would fall in love with some one ! " " Fall in love, mother ! What nonsense ! How could I? No doubt there are plenty loveable girls, and there is one charming little — well, no matter — " At that moment Nicholas entered the room, heartily saluted my mother, and cut short our conversation. A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 1 7 CHAPTEE IL IS STILL MORE EXPLOSIVE THAN THE FIRST. Much to my surprise, I found that neither Nicholas Naranovitsch nor Bella nor my mother would consent to witness my experiments with dynamite that day. As my old chum approached to greet me on the lawn before breakfast the day following, I could not help admiring his fine, tall, athletic figure. I don't know how it is, but I have always felt, somehow, as if I looked up at him, although we were both exactly the same height — six feet one without our boots. I suppose it must have been owing to his standing so erect, while I slouched a little. Per- haps my looking up to him mentally had something to do with it. " You '11 come to-day, won't you?" I said, referring to the experiments. " Of course I will, old boy ; but," he added, wiiJi a smile, " only on one condition." " What may that be ? " B 18 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS " That you don't bother Bella with minute details." Of course I promised not to say a word unless asked for explanations, and after breakfast we all went to a part of the grounds which I wished to bring under cultivation. It was at that time en- cumbered with several large trees, old roots, and a number of boulders. " Come along with us, Lancey," I said to the groom, who was also my laboratory assistant, and whom I met in the stable-yard, the scene of his memorable blowing-up. " I am about to try the effect of an explosive, and wish you to understand the details." " Yes, sir," replied Lancey, with a respectful touch of his cap ; " an' I must say, sir, if you '11 allow me, I never knowed any one like you, sir, for goin' into details except one, and that one — " " Ah, yes, I know, that was your friend the Scotch boy," said I, interrupting ; but Lancey was a privi- leged servant, and would not be interrupted. " Yes, sir," he resumed, " the Scotch boy Sandy. We was at school together in Edinburgh, where I got the most o' my edication, and I never did see such a boy, sir, for goin' into — " " Yes, yes, Lancey, I know ; but I haven't time to talk about him just now. We are going to the bit of waste ground in the hollow ; follow us there." A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 19 I was obliged to cut him short, because this Scotch hero of his was a subject on which he could not resist dilatinc; on the slightest encouraf^ement. Arrived at the waste ground, we met the mana- ger of a neighbouriug mine, who was deeply learned in everything connected with blasting. " I have brought my mother and sister, you see, Mr. Jones," said I, as we approached. " They don't quite believe in the giant-power which is under your control ; they seem to think that it is only a little stronger than gunpowder. " We can soon change their views on that point," said the manager, with a slight bow to the ladies, while I introduced Nicholas as an officer of the Eussian army. " This is one of the stones you wish to blast, is it not?" said Mr. Jones, laying his hand on an enormous boulder that weighed probably several tons. " It is," I answered. The manacjer was a man of action — ^i^rave of countenance and of few words. lie drew a flask from his pocket and emptied its contents, a large quantity of gunpowder, on the boulder. Asking us to stand a little back, he applied a slow match to the heap, and retired several paces. In a few seconds tlie powder went off witli a violent puff and a vast cloud of smoke. The 20 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS result was a little shriek of alarm from my mother, and an exclamation from Bella. " jN"ot much effect from that, you see," said the manager, pointing to the blackened stone, yet it was a large quantity of powder, which, if fired in a cavity inside the stone, would have blown it to pieces. Here, now, is a small quantity of dynamite." (He produced a cartridge about two inches in length, similar to that which I had shown to my mother at breakfast.) "Into this cartridge I shall insert a detonator cap, which is fastened to the end of a Pickford fuse — thus." As he spoke, he inserted into the cartridge the end of the fuse, to which was attached a small cap filled with fulminate of mercury, and tied it tightly up. This done, he laid the cartridge on the top of the boulder, placed two or three similar cartridges beside it, and covered all with a small quantity of sand, leaving the other end of the fuse projecting. "Why the sand ?" asked Bella. " Because a slight amount of confinement is ad- vantageous," replied Mr. Jones. " If I were to bore a short hole in the stone, and put the dynamite therein, the result would be still more effective ; but the covering I have put on it will suffice, and will serve all the better to show the great difference between this explosive and gunpowder." " But," said my mother, who had a tendency to ,^n A TALE OF MODERN WAll. 21 become suddenly interested in things when she began to have a faint understanding of them ; " but, Mr. Jones, you did not give the powder fair play. If you had covered it with sand, would not its effect have been more powerful ? " " Not on the stone, madam ; it w^ould only have blown off its covering with violence, that w^ould have been all. Now, ladies and gentlemen, if you will retire behind the shelter of that old beech-tree, I will licfht the fuse." o AVe did as we were desired. The manager lighted the fuse, and followed us. In a few moments there occurred an explosion so violent that the huge boulder was shattered into several pieces, which were quite small enough to be lifted and carted away. "Most amazing!" exclaimed Bella, with enthusiasm. It w^as quite obvious that she had no anticipation of such a thorough result. Nicholas, too, who I may mention had no natural turn or taste for such matters, "vvas roused to a state of inquiry. To a question put by him, Mr. Jones explained that, taking its powers into consideration, dynamite was cheaper than gunpowder, and that it saved much labour, as it would have taken two men a considerable time to have bored an ordinary blast- hole in the boulder he had just broken up. I now led tlie way to anotlier part of the ground. 22 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS on which grew a large beech- tree, whose giant roots took a firm grasp of the ground. It was a hundred years old at least; about twelve feet in circumfer- ence, and sixty feet high. One similar tree I had had cut down ; but the labour had been very great, and the removal of the stump excessively trouble- some as well as costly. Mr. Jones now went to work at the forest-giant. In the ground underneath the tree he ordered Lancey to make a hole with a crowbar. Into this he pressed some cartridges of dynamite with a wooden rammer. Then the cartridge, wdth the detonator inside of it ; and the fuse, extending from its mouth, was placed in contact with the charge under the tree. The hole was next closed up with some earth, leaving about a foot of the fuse outside. The light was then applied, and we retired to a safe distance. In a few moments the charge exploded. The tree seemed to rise from its bed. All the earth under it w^as blown out, and the roots were torn up and broken, with the exception of four of the largest, which were fully ten inches in diameter. A small charge of dynamite inserted under each of these completed the work, and the old giant, slowly bowing forward, laid his venerable head upon the ground. Another charge was next placed in the soil under some loose and de caved roots, which were A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 23 easily broken to pieces, so as to permit of their removal. Tlius, in a short time and at little cost, were trees and roots and boulders torn up and shattered. " But is dynamite not very dangerous, Mr. Jones ? " asked my mother, as we walked slowly homeward. "Not at all dangerous, — at least not worth speaking of," replied the manager ; '' nitro-glycerine by itself is indeed very dangerous, being easily exploded by concussion or mere vibration; but when mixed with infusorial earth and thus converted into dynamite, it is one of the safest explosives in existence — not quite so safe, indeed, as gun-cotton, but much more so than gunpowder. Any sort of fire will explode gunpowder, but any sort of lire will not explode dynamite; it will only cause it to burn. It requires a detonator to explode it with violence. Without its detonator, dynamite is a sleeping giant." "Ay, mother," said I, taking up tlie subject, "the case stands thus : gunpowder is a big athlete, who slumbers lightly ; au}^ spark can wake him to violent action : but dynamite is a bigG^cr atldete, who sleeps so soundly that a spark or ilanie can only rouse him to moderate rage; it reut what, Mr. Cliildcrs, is tlie pcculinr point c 34i IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS of superiority over other torpedoes which you claim for yours V I confess that the question damped me a little; for I had been remarkably explicit in my explana- tions, which lasted nearly an hour. However, with the utmost alacrity, I went again over the chief points. " You observe, my Lord," said I, pointing to my drawing, which lay spread out on the table, " that this watch- work arrangement in the heart of the machine is so intimately connected with that lever and screw on its exterior, that in passing out of the case from which it is launched into the sea, the machinery is set in motion, and the first act of the torpedo is to set or regulate itself for the special purpose for which it is designed. Thus it may be styled an automatic torpedo. The celebrated White- head fish-torpedo, beautiful and cleverly contrived though it be, can only advance straight to its object at a certain depth below the surface ; but mine, as you see, by this arrangement of the main pneu- matic engine, which connects the watch-work re- gulator with an eccentric wheel or fin outside, causes the torpedo to describe a curve of any size, and in any direction, during its progress. Thus, if you wish to hit an enemy's vessel, but cannot venture to fire because of a friendly ship happening to lie between, you have only to set the eccentric indicator to the A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 35 required curve, and seud the torpedo on its mission of destruction right under the bottom of the friendly ship ; or by laying the torpedo on its side, it will easily go round it, and afterwards hit the enemy." *'Ah! I see," said the first Lord, with a grave nod; "you have at last succeeded in making that which has so long been held impossible ; an instru- ment which will shoot round the corner." " Well, a — ; yes, my Lord, although I confess it had not struck me in that light before. But," I continued, feeling my enthusiasm rise as the first Lord became more appreciative, " the weapon may be used even in attacking fortresses from the sea, for by making what I may call the inverted trajec- tory of the curve very high, the torpedo may be made to rush under the surface of the water, gra- dually curve upwards, then shoot right out of its native element, and go straight into a fort or town on a hill, at least a hundred feet above the level of the sea." " Indeed !" exclaimed the first Lord. I observed that the other two Lords were gazing at me, with looks from which were banished every expression except that of intense surprise. Eegard- ing this as a sign that the merits of my invention were beginning to tell on them, I went on — " Yes, my Lord, the action of the thing is abso- lutely certain, if the distance of the object aimed 36 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS at be ascertained to a nicety, and the arrange- ments of the watch- work indicator adjusted to those of the eccentric wheel and the pneumatic engine with mathematical precision. This, of course, in these days of thorough education, can be easily done by even the youngest officer in a ship. I should have mentioned, however, that if it were required to send the torpedo into a citadel or fort- ress on a hill, it would be necessary to use a stronger explosive than any yet known, — gun-cotton and dynamite being too weak, and nitro-glycerine too dangerous, therefore inadmissible." "Ha!" exclaimed the first Lord, "and where is such an explosive to be found ?" " In my laboratory down in Devonshire, my Lord," I answered, with a look of diffidence, feeling uncer- tain how he would take the announcement. For a few moments he contemplated me in per- fect silence, and I observed that the other two Lords smiled. I felt perplexed, but the awkwardness of the moment was quickly removed by the first Lord asking what my new compound was made of. " That, my Lord," said I, " is a secret." "Just so, and you wish to sell your secret to Government ? " " No, my Lord," I replied, with dignity ; " I wish to let my Government possess any slight gift which it lies in my power to present to it, in addition to A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 37 til at of a loyal heart ; but I cannot afford to let my secret be known, unless I have some assurance that it shall be held inviolable." " That assurance you have," said the first Lord, "but I should have supposed that to so loyal a subject the character of the British Admiralty would have been sufficient guarantee, and that nothing further would have been required from me." " I do not require further assurance, my Lord," said I, hastily ; " I merely wish you to understand liow important it is that secrecy should be observed. I will reveal it to you." Here I rose and whispered in the first Lord's ear. He turned pale, as I sat down, and whispered to the other two Lords, who looked very grave, from which I augured good fortune to my invention. At the same time I was surprised, for my communication to him was in no way alarming, though connected with explosives. Presently the first Lord touched a bell. A servant in uniform appeared, and after a few words, dis- appeared. I was puzzled, but silent. " Mr. Childers," said the first Lord, " I shall give your invention my best attention ; but I must tell you that there are many others in this country, as well as yourself, who are exerting their minds to discover tlif3 most effectual method of spreading 38 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS wholesale devastation among their fellow- creatures, and—" " Forgive my interrupting you, my Lord," I ex- claimed, with a look of horror, " but I repudiate entirely any intention to destroy my fellow-crea- tures. My motives in this matter have been purely scientific." " I have no doubt of it," returned the first Lord, with a smile, " nevertheless the tendency of your labours is towards destruction ; and my reference to the fact is merely for the purpose of informing you that there are many other inventors who have claimed my attention to their designs, and that you must not expect an immediate decision in regard to yours." With this I was politely bowed out, and as I passed down the corridor, I could not help feeling disappointed at the rather faint success of my visit. The idea, too, that I was a would-be destroyer of my species had never before occurred to me, my whole soul and faculties having hitherto been en- grossed in the simple idea of perfecting a chemical explosive and a mechanical contrivance. Thus, unintentionally, do we sometimes lend ourselves to that from which our hearts revolt. I noticed, too, that the servant who had been summoned by the first Lord while we were discuss- ing the torpedo, was particularly attentive to me, A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 39 and very careful in seeing me off the premises ; and then, for the first time, it flashed across my mind that I had been taken for a madman. I was so tickled with the idea, that I burst into a sudden fit of hearty laughter, an act wliich induced a little boy, a policeman, and an old woman, who chanced to be passing, to imbibe the erroneous view of the first Lord. However, although grievously disheartened, I was not subdued. Hope, which tells so many flattering tales, told me that after proper consideration the Admiralty would infallibly perceive the value of my invention ; and in regard to the destruction of my fellow-creatures, I consoled myself with the reflection that torpedoes were much more calculated for defensive than offensive warfare. Before quitting this subject, I may state that from that day to this, I have never heard from the Admiralty in reference to my invention. This fact gives me no pain now, although it did at first. I will explain why. There is a friend of mine — a grave, kindly, young man, yet withal sarcastic and eccentric — who met me immediately after my visit to the Admiralty. He is a strange being this friend, wlio crops up at all sorts of unexpected times, and in divers places, when one least expects him. His name is U. Biquitous, 40 IN THE TRACK- OF THE TEOOPS •'My dear Childers," said he, when I had ex- plained matters, " yon are a victim ; — yon are the victim of self-delnsion. Yon were victimised by self-delnsion when I first met yon, at the time yon thonght yon had discovered perpetnal motion. Yonr torpedo, as yon have just described it to me, is an impossibility, and yon yourself are — " " An ass ? " said I, looking np in his face. " No, by no means," retnrned Biqnitons, ear- nestly ; " bnt yon are an enthnsiast withont ballast. Enthusiasm is a fine, noble qnality. The want of ballast is a grievous misfortune. Study mechanics, my boy, a little more than yon have yet done, before venturing on further inventions, and don't theorise too much. Yon have been revelling of late in the regions of fancy. Take my advice, and don't do it." " I wont," said I, fervently, " bnt I cannot give up my cherished pursuits." " There is no reason that yon should," retnrned my friend, grasping my hand, "and my earnest advice to yon is to continue them ; but lay in some ballast if possible." With these cheery words ringing in my ears, I rejoined my mother and sister, and went off to Portsmouth. It is well, however, to state here that my per- sonal investigations in the matter of explosives hud A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 41 at this time received a death-blow. I went, indeed, with intense interest to see the display of our national destructive powers at Portsmouth, but I never again ventured to add my own little quota to the sum of human knowledge on such subjects ; and the reader may henceforth depend upon it, that in all I shall hereafter write, there shall be drawn a distinct and unmistakable line between the region of fart and fancy. 42 IN THE TKACK OF THE TROOPS CHAPTER lY A DAT WITH THE TORPEDOES. The sentence with which I finished the last chapter appears to me essential, because what I am Qow about to describe may seem to many readers more like the dreams of fancy than the details of sober fact. When my mother and I, with Nicholas and Bella, arrived at Portsmouth, we were met by my naval friend, a young lieutenant, who seemed to me the heau-idSal of an embryo naval hero. He was about the middle height, broad, lithe, athletic, handsome, with a countenance beaming with good-will to and belief in everybody, including himself. He was self-possessed ; impressively attentive to ladies, both young and old, and suave to gentlemen ; healthy as a wild stag, and happy as a young cricket, with a budding moustache and a '' fluff" on either cheek. Though gentle as a lamb in peace, he was said to be a very demon in war, and bora the not inappropriate name of Firebrand. A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 43 "Allow me to introduce my friend, Lieutenant ISTarariovitsch, Mr. Firebrand, my mother and sister ; not too late, I hope," said I, shaking hands. " j^ot at all. In capital time," replied the young fellow, gaily, as he bowed to each. " Allow me, JNIrs. Childers— take my arm. The boat is not far off." " Boat ! " exclaimed my mother, " must we then go to sea ? " "Not exactly," replied Firebrand, with a light laugh, '' unless you dignify Portchester Creek by that name. The Nettle target-ship lies there, and we must go on board of her, as it is around and in connection with her that the various experiments are to be tried, by means of gunboats, launches, steam-pinnaces, and various other kinds of small craft." " How very fortunate that you have such a charming day," said my mother, whose interest was at once aroused by the youth's cheery manner. " Do you expect many people to witness the experi- ments, Mr. Firebrand ? " "About five hundred invitations have been issued," answered the lieutenant, "and I daresay most of those invited will come. It is an occasion of some importance, being the termination of the senior course of instruction in our Naval Torpedo School here. I am happy to think," he added, with 44 IN THE TKACK OF THE TROOPS an arcli smile, " that an officer of the Eussian army will have such a good opportunity of witnessing what England is preparing for her enemies." " It will afford me the greatest pleasure to witness your experiments," replied Nicholas, returning the smile with interest, " all the more that England and Eussia are now the best of friends, and shall, I hope, never again be enemies." In a few minutes we were conveyed on board the Nettle, on whose deck was a most animated assemblage. Not only were there present hundreds of gaily-dressed visitors, and officers, both naval and military, in bright and varied uniforms, but also a number of Chinese students, whose gaudy and peculiar garments added novelty as well as brilliancy to the scene. "Delightful!" murmured Bella, as she listened to the sweet strains of the Commander-in-chief's band, and gazed dreamily at the sun- flashes that danced on the glassy water. "Paradise!" replied Naranovitsch, looking down into her eyes. "What are they going to do?" asked my mother of young Firebrand, who kept possession of her during the whole of the proceedings, and explained everything. " They are going to illustrate the application of torpedo science to offensive and defensive warfare," A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 45 said tlie lieutenant; '^and just now I see tliey are about to send off an outrigger launch to make an attack with two torpedoes, one on either bow, each being filled with 100 lbs. of gunpowder. Some- times gun-cotton is used, but this 100 lbs. charge of powder is quite sufficient to send the vessel in which we stand to the bottom in five or ten minutes. Come this way — we shall see the ope- rations better from this point. ISTow, don't be alarmed, there is not the slightest danger, I assure you. He spoke in reassuring tones, and led my mother to the side of the ship, whither I followed them, and became at once absorbed in what was going on. The outrigger launch referred to was a goodly- sized boat, fitted with a small engine and screw propeller. Its chief peculiarities were two long poles or spars, which lay along its sides, projecting beyond the bows. These were the outriggers. At the projecting end of each spar was fixed an iron case, bearing some resemblance in shape and size to an elongated kettle-drum. These were the tor- pedoes. I heard the lieutenant explain to my mother that if one of these torpedoes chanced to explode where it hung, it would blow the boat and men to atoms. To which my mother replied, " Horrible 1" and asked how, in that case, the crew could fire it and escape. Whereupon he responded, "You shall see presently." 46 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS Anotlier peculiarity in the launch was that it had a species of iron hood or shield, like a broad and low sentry-box, from behind which protection the few men who formed her crew could steer and work the outriggers and tlie galvanic battery, without being exposed. This little boat seemed to me like a vicious wasp, as it left the side of the ship with a rapid throbbing of its engine and twirling of its miniature screw. When at a sufficient distance from the ship, an order was given by the officer in charge. Immedi- ately the outrigger on the right or starboard side was run out by invisible hands to its full extent — apparently fifteen feet beyond the bow of the launch; then the inner end of the outrigger was tilted violently into the air, so that the other end with its torpedo was thrust down ten feet below the surface of the water. This, I was told, is about the depth at which an enemy's ship ought to be struck. The launch, still going at full speed, was now supposed to have run so close to the enemy, that the submerged torpedo was about to strike her. Another order was given. The operator gave the needful touch to the galvanic battery, which, like the most faithful of servants, instantly sent a spark to fire the torpedo. The result was tremendous. A column of seething mud and water, twenty feet in diameter, shot full A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 4 7 thirty feet into the air, overwhehiiing the launch in such a shower that many of the unprofessional spectators imagined she was lost. Thus an ima- ginary ironclad was sent, with a tremendous hole in her, to the bottom of the sea. That this is no imaginary result will be seen in the sequel of our tale. "Why, the shock has made the Nettle herself tremble ! " I exclaimed, in surprise. " Oh, the poor boat !" cried my mother. "No fear of the boat," said young Firebrand, " and as to the Nettle — why, my good fellow, I have felt our greatest ironclad, the mighty Thicnderer, of which I have the honour to be an ofiQcer, quiver slightly from the explosion of a mere five- pounds torpedo discharged close alongside. Few people have an adequate conception of the power of explosives, and still fewer, I believe, understand the nature of the powers by which they are at all times surrounded. That 100-lbs. torpedo, for instance, which has only caused us to quiver, would have blown a hole in our most powerful ship if fired in contact with it, and yet the cushion of water between it and the tiny launch that fired it is so tough as to be quite a sufficient protection to the boat, as you see." We did indeed "see," for the waspish little boat emerged from the deluge she had raised and, steam- 43 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS ing swiftly on, turned round and retraced her track. On reaching about the same position as to the Nettle, she repeated the experiment with her second torpedo. " Splendid ! '* exclaimed young Naranovitsch, whose military ardour was aroused. " It means, does it not," said Bella, " a splendid ship destroyed, and some hundreds of lives lost ? " " Well — yes — " said Nicholas, hesitatingly ; " but of course it does not always follow, you know, that so many lives — " He paused, and smiled with a perplexed look. Bella smiled dubiously, and shook her head, for it did not appear to either of them that the exact number of lives lost had much to do with the ques- tion. A sudden movement of the visitors to the other side of the ship stopped the conversation. They were now preparing to show the effect of a gun-cotton hand-grenade ; in other words, a species of bomb-shell, meant to be thrown by the hand into an enemy's boat at close-quarters. This really tremendous weapon was an innocent-looking disc or circlet of gun-cotton, weighing not more than eight ounces. Innocent it would, in truth, have been but for the little detonator in its heart, with- out which it would only have burned, not exploded. Attached to this disc was an instantaneous fuse of some length, so that an operator could throw the A TALE OF MODERN WAIi. 49 disc into a passing boat, and tlien fire the fuse, which would instantly explode the disc. All this was carefully explained by Firebrand to my astonished mother, wliile the disc, for experi- mental purposes, was being placed in a cask float- ing in the water. On the fuse being fired, this cask was blown " into matchwood " — a wreck so complete that the most ignorant spectator could not fail to understand what would have been the fate of a boat and its crew in similar circumstances. " How very awful ! " said my mother. " Pray, Mr. Firebrand, what is gun- worsted— I mean cotton." The young lieutenant smiled rather broadly as he explained, in a glib and slightly sing-song tone, which savoured of the Woolwich Military Academy, that " gun-cotton is the name given to the explosive substance produced by the action of nitric acid mixed with sulphuric acid, on cotton fibre." He was going to add, " It contains carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, and oxygen, corresponding to — " when my mother stopped him. '' Dear me, Mr. Firebrand, is a popular explana- tion impossible Y *' " Not impossible, madam, but rather difficult. Let me see. Gun-cotton is a chemical compound of the elements which I have just named- — a chemical compound, yow will observe, not a mechani- cal mixture, like gunpowder. Hence it explodes D 50 IN THE TKACK OF THE TROOPS more rapidly than the latter, and its power is from three to six times greater." My mother looked perplexed. " What is the difference," she asked, " between a chemical com- pound and a mechanical mixture ? " Firebrand now in his turn looked perplexed. " Why, madam," he exclaimed, in modulated despera- tion, " the ultimate molecules of a mixture are only placed heside each other, so that an atom of gunpowder may be saltpetre, charcoal, or sulphur, dependent on its fellow-atoms for power to act; whereas a chemical compound is such a perfect union of substances, that each ultimate molecule is complete in its .definite proportions of the four elements, and therefore an independent little atom. " Now, the next experiment," continued Fire- brand, glad to have an opportunity of changing the subject, *'is meant to illustrate our method of countermining. You must know that our enemies may sometimes sink torpedoes at the entrance of their harbours, to prevent our ships of war entering. Such torpedoes consist usually of casks or cases of explosives, which are fired either by electric wires, like the telegraph, when ships are seen to be passing over them, or by contact That is to say, an enemy's ship entering a harbour runs against something which sets something else in motion, which explodes the torpedo and blows it and the ship into what A TALE OF MODEKN WAR. 51 natives of the Green Isle call smithereens. This is very satisfactory when it happens to an enemy, but not when it happens to one's-self, therefore when w& have to enter an enemy's harbour we countermine. This operation is now about to be illustrated. The last experiments exhibited the power of offensive torpedoes. There are several different kinds, such as Mr. Whitehead's fish- torpedo, the Harvey torpedo, and others." "Dear me," said my mother, with a perplexed air, " I should have thought, Mr. Firebrand, that all torpedoes were offensive." " By no means ; those which are placed at the entrance of harbours and navigable rivers are de- fensive. To protect ourselves from the offensive weapon, we use crinolines." My mother looked quickly up at her polite young mentor. "You play with the ignorance of an old woman, sir," she said, with a half-jocular air. " Indeed I do not, madam, I assure you," re- turned Firebrand, with much earnestness. ** Every iron-clad is provided with a crinoline, which is a powerful iron network, hung all round the ship at some distance from her, like — pardon me — a lady's crinoline, and is intended to intercept any torpedo that may be discharged against her." Attention was called, at this point, to the counter- mining experiments. 52 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS It may be said, in regard to tliese, that they can Le conducted in various ways, but always with the same end in view, namely, to destroy an enemy's mines by exploding others in their midst. For the sake of illustration, it was supposed that the surrounding sea-bottom was studded with in- visible torpedoes, and that the Nettle was a war- ship, determined to advance into the enemy's harbour. To effect this with safety, and in order to clear away the supposed sunken torpedoes, a counter- torpedo was floated between two empty casks, and sent off floating in the desired direction by means of the tide. This countermine consisted of an iron cylinder, containing 300 pounds of powder, and was electrically connected with the Nettle. A small charge of gun-cotton was fixed to the suspender that held the torpedo to its casks. When at a safe distance from the ship, this charge was fired. It cut the suspender and let the torpedo sink to the bottom. There it was exploded Avith terrific violence, as was quickly shown by the mighty fountain of mud, water, and smoke that in- stantly shot up into the air. It has been proved by experiment that 500 pounds of gun-cotton ex- ploded below water, will destroy all the torpedoes that lie within a radius of 120 yards. It is obvious, therefore, that a war-ship could advance into the space thus cleared and then send a second counter- A TALE OF MODERN AVAR, 53 mine ahead of her in the same way. If neither tide, current, nor wind will serve to drift the casks, the operation might be accomplished by a small boat, which could back out of danger after laying each torpedo, and thus, step by step, or shot by shot, the advance could be made in safety through the enemy's defences. After this, twelve small charges of gun-cotton were sunk in various directions, each representing a countermine of 500 pounds. These were discharged simultaneously, to demonstrate the possibility of extending the operations over a wide area. These miniature charges were sent down in small nets, and were quite unprotected from the water, so that the gun-cotton was wet when fired. This fact caught the attention of my mother at once. " How can it go off when luct ? " she exclaimed^ turning her bright little eyes in astonishment on her young companion. " Ha, that is one of the strange peculiarities of gun-cotton," replied Firebrand, with an amused look; " you don't require to keep it dry like powder. It is only necessary that there should be one small lump of dry gun-cotton inside the wet stuff, with a deton- ator in its heart. A detonator, you must know — " "Oh, I know what a detonator is," said my mother, quicldy. 54 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS " Well then," continued Firebrand, " the explod- ing of the detonator and the dry disc causes the wet gun-cotton also to go off, as you have seen. Now they are going to exhibit one of the modes of defending harbours. They have sunk four mines, of 300 pounds of gunpowder each, not far from where you see yon black specks floating on the water. The black specks are buoys, called circuit- closers, because they contain a delicate contrivance — a compound of mechanism and galvanism — whicli, when the buoys are bumped, close the electric cir- cuit and cause the mine to explode. Thus when a ship-of-war sails against one of these circuit- closers, she is immediately blown up." " Is not that rather a sneaking way of killing one's enemies ? " asked my mother. Young Firebrand laughed, and admitted that it was, but pleaded that everything was fair in love and war. In actual warfare the circuit- closers are placed just over the mines which they are designed to explode, but for safety on this occasion they were placed at a safe distance from their respective mines. A steam-launch was used to bump them, and a prodigious upheaval of water on each explo- sion showed clearly enough what would have been the fate of an iron-clad if she had been over the mine. A TALE OF MODERN WAE. 55 "Oh, shade of Nelson ! " I could not help exclaim- ing, " how shocked you must be if you are permitted to witness such methods of conducting war." " Ah, yes ! " sighed Firebrand ; " the bubble repu- tation, you see, is being transferred from the cannon's mouth to the torpedo." I made no reply, for my mind reverted to my laboratory in Devonshire, where lay the working- model of the terrible weapon I had spent so much time in perfecting. It seemed strange to me now, that, in the eager pursuit of a scientific object, I had scarcely ever, if at all, reflected on the dire results that the use of my torpedo involved, and I felt as if I were really guilty of the intent to murder Just before leaving home I had charged my model, which was quite a large one, capable of holding about 50 lbs. of dynamite, in the hope that I might prevail on the Fii^st Lord of the Admiralty and some of his colleagues to come down and see it actually fired. I now resolved to throw the dyna- mite into the sea, break up my model, and have done with explosives for ever. While my mind was running on this, I was startled by an explosion close alongside. On turn- ing towards the side of the ship, I found that it was caused by the rending of a huge iron chain, the links of which were more than one and a quarter inch in thickness. This powerful cable, which 56 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS could have held an iron- clad, was snapped in twain like a piece of thread by the explosion against it of only two and a half pounds of gun-cotton. "Very well done/' I said to Firebrand, "but I think that a much smaller quantity of dynamite would have done it as effectively.'* " Now, Mrs. Childers," said the young lieutenant, "the last experiment is about to be made, and I think it will interest you even more than the others. See, they are about to send off the electri- cal steam-pinnace." As he spoke, a boat was being prepared alongside the ship. " Why ! " exclaimed my mother, almost speech- less with surprise, "they have forgotten to send its crew in it.'' " No, madam,** said Firebrand, with one of his blandest smiles, " they have not forgotten her crew, but there are services so dangerous, that although the courage of the British sailor will of course enable him to face anything, it has been thought advisable not to put it to too severe a test, hence this automatic boat has been invented. It is steered, and all its other operations are performed by means of electricity, applied not on board the boat but on board of the Nettle. This was indeed the case. The electric pinnace went off as he spoke, her steam-engines, steering- A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 57 gear, and all the other apparatus being regulated Ly electric wires, which were " paid out " from the ship as the boat proceeded on her mission of supposed extreme danger. Eight under the withering fire of the imaginary enemy's batteries she went, and having scorned the rain of small shot that swept over her like hail, and escaped the plunging heavy shot that fell on every side, she dropped a mine over her stern, exploded it by means of a slow fuse, turned round and steamed back in triumph, amid the cheers of the spectators. This last was really a marvellous sight, and the little boat seemed indeed to deserve the encomiums of Firebrand, who said, that " If cool, calm pluck in the face of appalling danger merited anything, that heroic little steam-pinnace ought to receive the Victoria Cross ! '* I was still meditating on this subject, and listen- ing to the animated comments going on around me, when I myself received a shock, compared to which all the explosions I had that day witnessed were as nothing. It suddenly recurred to my memory that I had left a compound in my laboratory at home in a state of chemical preparation, which required watch- ing to prevent its catching fire at a certain part of the process. I had been called away from that compound suddenly by Nicholas, just before we left 58 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS for London, and I had been so taken np with what he had to tell me, that I had totally forgotten it. The mere burning of this comiDOund would, in itself, have been nothing, for my laboratory was an old out-house, quite unconnected with the dwelling ; but in the laboratory also lay my torpedo ! The worst of it was that I had inserted a detonator and affixed a fuse, feeling quite secure in doing so, because I invariably locked the door and carried the key in my pocket. My face must have turned very pale, for Nicholas, who came up at the moment, looked at me with anxious surprise, and asked if I were ill. " No," said I, hurriedly ; " no, not ill — but — yes — it is a slow process at best, and not always certain — sometimes takes a day or two to culminate. The fusion may not have been quite completed, or it may have failed altogether. Too late, I fear, too late, but I cannot rest till I know. Tell my mother I 'm off home — only business — don't alarm her." Eegardless of the amazed looks of those who stood near me, I broke from the grasp of Nicholas, leaped into one of the boats alongside, seized the oars, and rowed ashore in mad haste. Fortune favoured me. The train had not left, though it was just in motion. I had no time to take a ticket, but leaping upon the moving foot- board, I wrenched open a carriage-door and sprang in. A TALE OF MODITcN WAIl. 59 It was an express. "We went at full sixty miles an hour, yet I felt as if we moved like a snail. iSTo words can adequately explain the state of my mind and body — the almost uncontrollable desire I felt to spring out of the train and run on ahead. But I was forced to sit still and think. I thought of the nearness of the laboratory to our kitchen windows, of the tremendous energy of the explosive with which the model-torpedo was charged, of the mass of combustibles of all kinds by which it was surrounded, of the thousand and one pos- sibilities of the case, and of my own inexcusable madness in not being more careful. At last the train pulled up at tlie town, from which our residence is about two miles distant. It- was now evening ; but it was summer, and the days were long. Hiring a horse at the nearest hotel, I set off at a break-neck gallop. The avenue-gate was open. I dashed in. Tlie laboratory was not visible from that point, being at the back of the house. At the front door I pulled up, sprang to the ground, let the horse go, and ran forward. I was met by Lancey coming round the corner. I saw at once that all was over ! His face and hands had been scorched, and his hair singed ! I gasped for breath. " No one killed ? " I asked. GO IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS " No, sir, nobody killed, but most of us 'orribly scared, sir." " Nobody hurt, Lancey ? " I asked again, leaning against the side of the house, and wiping my fore- head. •' No, sir, nor 'urt," continued my faithful groom, hastening to relieve my mind ; " you Ve no need to alarm yourself, sir, for we 're all alive and 'earty, though I must say it 's about the wust buster, sir, that you 've yet turned out of 'ands. It sent in the kitchen winders as if they'd bin made of tissue paper, sir, an' cook she w^ent into highstericks in the coal-bunker, Margaret she swounded in the scullery, and Mary went into fits in the wash'us. But they 're all right again, sir, — only raither skeery ever since. We 'ad some trouble in puttin' it out, for the cumbustibles didn't seem to care much fur water. We got it under at last, early this morning." " This morning ? " " Yes, sir. It blow'd up about two hours arter you left for London, an' we 've bin at it ever since. We was so glad your mother was away, sir, for it did make an uncommon crack. I was just sayin' to cook, not 'alf an hour since, the master would have enjoyed that, he would ; it was such a crusher." " Any of — of — the torpedo left, Lancey ? " I asked, with some hesitation. A TALE OF MODERN WAR. Gl " The toipeJo, sir. Bless your 'art, it went up to the 'eavens like a sky-rocket, an' blowed the out-'ouse about to that extent that you couldn't find a bit big enough to pick your teeth with." On hearing this I roused myself, and hastened to tlie scene of devastation. One glance sufficed. The spot on which my laboratory had stood was a blackened heap of rubbish ! " IS'ow, mother," said I next day, after relieving her mind by a full and rapid account of what had happened, "there is nothing that I know of to detain me at home. I will therefore see to havinsj the yacht got ready, and we shall all go to sea without dela3\" ^2 IN THE TKACK OF THE TROOPS CIIAPTEE V. TERIllBU: TORPEDO TALES, FOLLOWED BY OVERTDRNED PLANS. Change of scene has almost always an invigor- ating effect on the mind. Whatever be the nature of your mind, variety, rest assured, will improve its condition. So we thought, my mother and I, Nicholas and Bella, as we lay, one beautiful morning, becalmed in the English Channel. The yacht turned out to be a most charming vessel. Schooner-rigged, with two cabins, one of which formed our salon during the day, and the gentlemen's bed-room by night, the other being set apart entirely for the ladies. It was quite full. My mother and Bella filled it. Another female would have caused it to overflow. Contrary to all expectation, my mother turned out a capital sailor ; better even than Bella, on whom she attended during the first part of the voyage when the latter was ill. " D' you think we shall have a good passage A TALE OF MODERN WAK. 63 across the far-famed Bay of Biscay?" asked Nicholas, as he sat on the cabin skylight, smoking a mild cigar. Talking of that, smoking was the only thing in which I could not join my future brother-in- law. I know not how it is, but so it is that I cannot smoke. I have often tried to, but it invari- ably makes me sick, for which, perhaps, I ought to be thankful." "It is to be hoped we shall," I replied to his question ; " but I am not a judge of weather. " What think you, Mr. Whitlaw V I said, address- ing my skipper. "I hope we shall, sir," replied the skipper, with a deferential touch of his cap, and a glance round the horizon ; " but I don't feel sure." Mr. Whitlaw was an American, and a splendid specimen of the nation to which he belonged, — tall, lanky, broad-shouldered, gentlemanly, grave, self- possessed, prompt, good-humoured : I have seldom met a more agreeable man. He had been in the Northern navy of America during the last war, and had already introduced some of the discipline, to which he had been accustomed, amongst my small crew. Bella was up on deck enjoying the sunset ; so was my mother. Lancey was busy cleaning my fowling-piece, near the companion-hatch. " It is charming," exclaimed my mother. 64 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS " So calm," said Bella. " And settled-looking," remarked Nicholas, flipp- ing the end of his cigar over the side. "Mr. Whitlaw does not appear to think so favourably of the weather," I remarked. The skipper, looking gravely at a particular point on the horizon, said, in a quiet tone — " The clouds are heavy." "From which you judge that the fine weather may not last ? " *'It may be so, but the indications are not certain," was his cautious reply. That night we were in a perfect chaos of wind and water. The storm-fiend seemed to have re- served all his favours in order to give us a befitting reception. The sea roared, the wind yelled, the yacht — but why repeat the oft-told tale that invari- ably ends with " Biscay, ! " A week later and we were in a dead calm, revelling in warmth, bathed in sunshine, within the straits of Gibraltar. It was evening. All sail was set. Not a puff of wind rendered that display available. The reef- points pattered as the yacht rolled gracefully from side to side on the gentle heave of the Mediter- ranean's bosom. Sitting on a rug on the deck, betv/een my mother and Nicholas, Bella said, in a low quiet tone, " This is perfect felicity." A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 65 "Agreed/' said Nicholas, in a similar tone, with a puff from his cigar. Bella referred to the calm, of course ! A sea-captain, sitting astride the bulwarks of his ship in the "Doldrums," far far away from Bella, said, in reference to a similar calm which had beset him for three weeks, " This is perfectly maddening," with many other strong expressions which we would rather not record ; but Bella, of course, did not know that, and could not be ex- pected to reflect on it. She was taken up with her own comforts at the time. "My dear," said Mrs. Childers, "I think I shall go to bed. Come with me. Good-night, Nicholas. Will you keep the skyliglit off to-night, Jeffry ? It was too hot in our cabin last night." " Of course I will," said I ; " why did you not ring, and let me know that you would like fresh air ? But I shall see to it to-night." About eleven o'clock that night, I lay on one of the lockers of the main cabin, in a wakeful mood. Nicholas lay on the other locker, in that profound slumber which is so characteristic of healthy youth. His regular breathing was the only sound I heard, except the soft foot-fall of our skipper, as he slowly paced the deck. Presently I heard another step. It advanced, and a low "Fine night, sir," apprised me that it E OQ IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS was Lancey, who had come on deck to air himself after the culinary and other labours of the day, for he served in the capacity of cook and steward to the yacht. " I wish you 'd tell me about that expedition you was speakin' off to the master this morning," said Lancey. " With pleasure," replied the skipper ; " sit down here, and I '11 spin it off to you right away." I knew by the sound of their motions that they had seated themselves at the foot of the main-mast, just between the skylights of the two cabins, and feared that their talk might disturb my mother ; but, reflecting that she must have got to sleep long ago, I thought it better not to disturb them, unless their talk should become too loud. As for myself, in my wakeful mood, their converse could not annoy me. After a time it began to interest me deeply. " It was about the blowing-up of Southern iron- clads, was it not ? " said the skipper. As he spoke I could distinctly hear the puff, puff, of his pipe between each half-dozen words. " Just so," replied Lancey. " The master is uncommon fond of blowin's-up and inquirin' into the natur' of things. I never know*d another except one as beat 'im at inwestigation, but that one beat everybody I ever seen or heard of. He was a Scotch boy, named Sandy — " A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 67 " What was his other name ?" asked the skipper. " 'Aven't a notion," replied Lancey. " We never called 'im anythink else. I don't believe he 'ad any other name. He said he was the son of an apothe- cary. No doubt the schoolmaster knew 'is other name, if he 'ad one, but he never used it, and we boys were content with Sandy. That boy, sir, seemed to me to know every think, and was able, I believe, to do hanythink. He was a tremendous fighter, too, though not out o' the way as regards size. He could lick the biggest boy in the school, and when he made up his mind to do a thing, nothin' on earth could stop him adoin' of it." " Good," said the skipper, with an emphatic puff; "that's what we Americans call the power to go ahead. Did Sandy become a great man ? " " Don't know," answered Lancey. " He went a'ead too fast for me to foller. One day the master gave 'im a lickin'. He vowed he 'd be revenged. Next mornin early he got up an' smashed the school winders, redooced the master's desk to matchwood, an' walked away whistlin'. I never seed 'im since." " Nor heard of him ? " " Nor 'card of 'im." " That was a pity," said tlie skipper, with a pro- longed whiff. " It was. But go on. Mister Whitlaw, with your GS IN THE TRACK OF THE TKOOrS hanecdotes. I couldn't rightly hear all you said to the master." " It was about torpedo warfare we were talking," said the skipper. " You know that sort o' thing is only in its infancy, but the Americans, as usual, had the honour of starting it fairly into being." " The ' honour,' eh ? " said Lancey ; " h'm ! well, I 'm not so sure about the honour, but go on." "Well, whether it be an honour or no, I won't dispute," returned the skipper, with a puff; " bat of this I am sure, that during the late war between the North and South in America, torpedo practice was regularly brought into play for the first time, and the case which I brought before Mr. Childers yes- terday is only one of many which I could describe. I'll not relate the same stoiy, but another and a better. " About the beginning of the war, in 1862, the Confederates — these were the Southern men — blew up our iron-clad, the Cairo, in which I lost one of my most intimate friends; and in 1864 they attempted to blow up the Wabash, and myself along with it. The Cai7v business was caused by sunk torpedoes. She was going up the Yazoo river at the time, and had lowered a boat to search for torpedoes, which were known to be sunk there. They suc- ceeded in fishing up one, which was found to be an exploded one. ]\Ieanwhile the Cairo, having got A TALE OF MODEKN WAIJ. 69 rather too close in shore, backed out towards the middle of the stream, when two explosions occurred in quick succession, one close to the port-quarter, the other under the port-bow. The effect was tremendous. Some of the heavy guns were actually lifted from the deck. The captain instantly shoved the Cairo on the bank, and got a hawser out to a tree to keep her, if possible, from sinking in deep water. The pumps, steam and hand, were set going immediately ; but her w^hole frame, iron-clad though she was, had been so shattered, that nothing could save her. Twelve minutes afterwards she slipped down into six fathoms water, giving them barely time to get out the boats and save the sick men aboard, and the arms. My friend was one of the sick, and the moving was ultimately the death of him, though no lives were lost at the time." " You 're not tellin' me crackers, are you ? " said Lancey, in an incredulous tone. " My good fellow," returned the skipper, " I wish that I were. The story is only too true, and I would it were the only one of tlie sort I had to tell. You can find a book in London,-^ if you like, which tells all about this and the other torpedo work done during the late American war." 1 " A Treatise on Coast-Defence. . . . Compiled from official re- ports of officers of the United States, By Von Sihelilia, Lieutenant- Colonel and cliicf engineer of tlie dopartmont of the Gulf of Mexico of tlie army of the late Confederate States of America." 70 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS " Well, then/' said Lancey, in the tone of an eager listener, while, by the tapping on the combings of the hatchway, I could distinguish that he was emptying his pipe, with a view, no doubt, to the enjoyment of another, " and what happened when they tried to blow you up ? " "Well, you must know," resumed the skipper, " it was long afterwards, near the end of the war. I was in the U.S. steamer Wahasli at the time. We were at anchor off Charleston, and we kept a sharp look-out at that time, for it was a very different state of things from the wooden-wall warfare that Nelson used to carry on. Why, we never turned in a night without a haK sort of expectation of being blown into the sky before morning. It was uneasy work, too, for although American sailors are as good at facing death as any men, they don't like the notion of death coming in on them, like a sneak below the waterline, and taking them in the dark while asleep. We were always on the alert, and doubly so at that time, for only a short while previously, the Confederates had sunk another of our iron-clads, the Housatonic, with one of their torpedo-Davids, — little boats that were so called because, compared with the great iron-clads they were meant to attack, they somewhat resembled David when he went out against Goliath. " Well, as I said, the Wabash was at anchor, and A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 71 it was night — not very late, about ten ; but it \va? very dark. *' Fortunately the deck was in charge that night of a young officer named Craven, and never was an officer worse named or better deserving to be called Courage. He had his wits about him. At the hour I have named, he observed something on the starboard-quarter, about 150 yards off. It re- sembled a plank on the water. In reality it was a torpedo-David. It was opposite the main-mast when first observed, going rapidly against the tide. At that moment it turned and made straight for the ship. Craven was up to the mark. He commenced with volleys of musketry ; beat the gong for the crew to assemble at quarters ; rang four bells for the engine to go ahead ; opened fire with the watch and the starboard battery ; and gave orders to slip the cable. " His orders, you may be sure, were obeyed with promptitude. The gong sent every man from his hammock as if he had received an electric shock. Jack-in-the-box never came out of his box more promptly than each man shot up the hatchway. An exaggerated idea of the effect of torpedoes — if tliat were possible — had got possession of us. We were at our quarters in a moment ; the ship moved ahead ; the chain slipped ; and the torpedo-boat passed us about forty yards astern. A round shot 72 IN THE TKACK OF THE TROOPS from US at the same moment appeared to strike it. We cheered. A second shot was fired, and appeared to send it to the bottom, for we saw it no more. " But now our turn came," continued the skipper, refilling his pipe. " Puff I you see we were not so well situated as the Southerners for the use of this weapon, for we had to go in to attack their forts, while they had only to defend themselves, which they did largely with sunk torpedoes. " We had long been desirous of revenging their attacks in a similar fashion, and at last we were successful on the 27th of October. I had the good luck to be one of the expedition. It was risky work, of course. We all knew that, but where is the nation worthy of the name that will not find men for risky work ? People talk about the differ- ence of courage in nations. In my opinion that is all gammon. Most nations that lie near to one another are pretty much alike as to courage. In times of trial among all nations, the men of pluck come to the front, and the plucky men, be they American, English, French, German, Eussian, or Turk, do pretty much the same thing — they fight like heroes till they conquer or die. "Better if they didn't fight at all," remarked Lancey. " That 's true, but if you 're attacked you must fight. Anyhow, on this particular occasion we A TALE OF MODEKN WAR. 73 attacked the Confederate iron-clad ram Albemarle, and sent her to the bottom. I had volunteered for the duty with some other men from the squadron, and we started in a steam-launch under Lieutenant Gushing. The distance from the mouth of the river to where the ram lay was about eight miles, the stream averaging 200 yards in width, and being lined with the enemy's pickets, so that we had to proceed with the utmost possible caution. We set out in the dead of night. There was a wreck on our way, which was surrounded by schooners, and we knew that a gun was mounted there to command the bend of the river. We had the good luck, however, to pass the pickets and the wreck without being discovered, and were not hailed until seen by the look-out of the ram itself. " Without replying to the hail, we made straight at her under a full head of steam. The enemy sprang their rattles, rang their bell, and commenced firiuGj. The Alhemarle was made fast to a wliarf, with a defence of logs around her about thirty feet from her side. A chance fire on the shore enabled us to see this, although the night was intensely dark, and raining. " From the report afterwards published by tlie commander of the Allemarle, it seems that a good look-out had been kept. The watch also had been doubled, and when we were seen (about three in the 74 IN THE TRACK OF THE TEOOPS morning) they were all ready. After hailing, a brisk fire was opened on us both by small arms and large guns ; but the latter could not be brought to bear, owing to our being so close, and we partially dis- turbed the aim of the former by a dose of canister at close range. Paymaster Swan, of the Otsego, was wounded near me, and some others. My own jacket was cut in many places, and the air seemed full of bullets. " Our torpedo-boom was out and ready. Passing close to the Albemarle, we made a complete circle round her, so as to strike her fairly. Then Lieu- tenant Cushing gave the order, and we went straight at her, bows on. In a moment we struck the logs, just abreast of the quarter-port, with such force that we leaped half over them, at the same time breasted them in. The boom was lowered at once. * JSTow, lads, a vigorous pull ! ' said Cushing. " We obeyed, and sent the torpedo right under the overhang of the ship. It exploded. At the same instant the Albemarle s great -gun was fired. A shot seemed to go crashing through the boat, and a dense mass of water rushed in from the torpedo. It seemed to me as if heaven and earth had come together. Smoke and yells, with con- tinued firing at only fifteen feet range, followed, in the midst of which I heard the commander of the iron- clad summon us to surrender. I heard our A TALE OF MODER^' WAR. 75 lieutenant twice refuse, and then, ordering tlie men to save themselves, he jumped into the water. I followed him, and for some time swam in the midst of a shower-bath caused by plunging shot and bullets, but not one of them struck me. At last I reached the shore, and escaped. " At the time I thouoht we must have failed in o our purpose, but I was mistaken. Though we had lost one boat and some of our men, many of them being captured, I learned that the Albemarle had sunk in fifteen minutes after the explosion of the torpedo, only her shield and smoke-stack being left out of the water to mark the spot where a mighty iron-clad had succumbed to a few pounds of well- applied gunpowder ! " " If that be so," said Lancey, after a pause and deep sigh, " it seems to me no manner of use to build iron-clads at all, and that it would be better, as well as cheaper, in time to come, to fight all our battles with torpedo-boats." " It may be so," replied the skipper, rising, " but as that is a subject which is to be settled by wiser heads than ours, and as you have to look after the ladies* breakfast to-morrow morning, I 'd strongly advise you to turn in." Lancey took the hint, and as he slept in a bertli close to the cabin, I quickly had nasal assurance that he had thrown care and torpedoes to the dogs. 76 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS It was not so with myself. Much of the infor- mation which Mr. Whitlaw had unconsciously conveyed to me was quite new, for although I had, as a youth, read and commented on the late American war while it was in progress, I had not given to its details that amount of close study which is necessary to the formation of a reasonable judgment. At first I could not resist the conviction that my skipper must have been indulging in a small amount of exaggeration, especially when I reflected on the great strength and apparent invul- nerability of such massive vessels as our Thunderer; but knowing the sedate and truthful character of Mr. Whitlaw, I felt perplexed. Little did I think at the time that I should live to see, and that within the year, the truth of his statements corroborated with my own eyes. I meditated long that night on war and its results, as well as the various processes by which it is carried on ; and I had arrived at a number of valuable conclusions, which I would have given worlds to have been able to jot down at the moment, w^hen I was overtaken by that which scattered them hopelessly to the winds : I fell sound asleep ! The rest of this delightful voyage I am compelled to pass over, in order that I may come to matters of greater importance. We had reached the neighbourhood of the beau- A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 77 t if 111 town of Nice, when my clear mother, to my surprise and mortification, suddenly announced that she could not endure the sea any longer She had kept pretty well, she admitted, and had enjoyed herself, too, except when listening to those dreadful stories of the captain about the American war, which had travelled to her down the after- cabin skylight, during wakeful hours of the night. Despite appearances, she said she had suffered a good deal. There was something, she declared, like a dumpling in her throat, which always seemed about to come up, but wouldn't, and which she constantly tried to swallow, but couldn't. In these circumstances, what could I do ? We had meant to land at Nice in passing. I now resolved to leave my mother and sister there and proceed eastvv^ard — it might be to Egypt or the Black Sea — with Naranovitsch. The latter had ordered his letters to be forwarded to Nice ; we therefore ran into the port, and, while my mother and sister and I drove to " the Chateau " to see the splendid view from that commanding position, he went off to the post-office. On returning to the yacht, we found poor Nicholas in deep distress. He had received a letter announcing the death of his fatlicr, and requiring his immediate return to liiissia. As tlie circum- stances admitted of no dclny, and as my mother 78 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS could not be prevailed on to go farther in the yacht, it was hastily arranged that she and Bella should return through France to England, and that Nicholas should take charge of them. Our plans being fixed, they were at once carried into effect, and the same evening I found myself alone in my yacht, with no one but the skipper and crew and the faithful Lancey, to keep me company. The world was now before me where to choose. After a consultation with my skipper, I resolved to go on a cruise in the Black Sea, and perhaps ascend the Danube, in spite of the rumours of possible war between the Eussians and Turks. A TALE OF MODER^^ WAE. 79 CHAPTER VL TURK A>'D BULOAIIIAN— A WRESTLING MATCH AND A DISPUTE, BiVER navigation is, to my mind, most captivat- ing; but space forbids that I should enlarge on it, and on many other points of interest in this eventful voyage. I shall therefore pass over the Dardanelles and the Bosporus, leaving the great and classic Stamboul itself behind untouched, and transport the reader at once to one of those " touches of nature " which " make the whole world kin." It is a little villacje on the Danube river — the mighty Danube, which bears the fleets of the world on its ample breast. AYe had been a considerable time in the river, for we took things very leisurely, before reaching the village to which I refer. It was named Yenilik. While I had been rejoicing in the varied scenery — the lagoons and marshes of the several mouths of the great river, and the bolder prospects of hill and dale higher up — I had not been idling my time or 80 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS making entire holiday of it, for 1 had devoted my- self to the study of the Turkish language. My powers as a linguist may not perhaps be above the average, nevertheless I confess to a con- siderable facility in the acquisition of languages. Russian I already knew very well, having, as before intimated, spent a considerable time in St. Petersburg. Desiring to perfect myself in Turkish, I under- took to teach my man Lancey. Not that I had much opinion of his ability — far from it; but I entertain a strong belief in the Scriptural idea that two are better than one. Of course I do not hold that two fools are better than one wise man ; but two men of average ability are, in nearly all circum- stances, better than one, especially if one of them is decidedly and admittedly superior to the other. Lancey 's powers w^ere limited, but his ambition was not so, and I am bound to add that his appli- cation was beyond all praise. Of course his attain- ments, like his powers, were not great. His chief difficulty lay in his tendency to drop the letter h from its rightful position in words, and to insert it, along with r and h, in wrong places. But my efforts to impress Lancey's mind had the satis- factory effect of imbedding minute points of the language deeply in my own memory. The village to which I have referred was in A TALE OF MODERN WAll. 81 Pulgaria — on the right or southern shore of the Danube. It was a pretty spot, and the bright sunny weather lent additional cliarms to water, rock, and tree, while the twittering of birds, to say nothing of the laughter and song of men, women, and children working in the fields, or engaged in boisterous play, added life to it. Towards the afternoon T landed, and, accom- panied by Lancey, went up to the chief store or shop of the village. It was a primitive store, in which the most varied and incongruous articles were associated. The owner of the shop was engaged in bargain- ing with, I think, one of the finest specimens of manhood I ever saw. His name I accidentally learned on entering, for the shopman, at that moment, said — *' Xo, Dobri Petroff, I cannot let you have it for less/' The shopman spoke in the Bulgarian tongue, which, being a kindred dialect of the Eussian language, I understood easily. '' Too dear," said Petroff, as he turned over the article, a piece of calico, with a good-humoured affectation of contempt. Dobri Petroff was a 3'oung man, apparently not more than twenty- five, tall, broad, deep- chested, pmall-waistod — a perfect study for an Apollo. Both 82 IN THE TRACK OF THE TEOOPS dress and language betokened him an uneducated man of the Bulgarian peasantry, and his colour seemed to indicate something of gipsy origin ; but there was an easy frank deportment about him, and a pleasant smile on his masculine countenance, which told of a naturally free, if not free-and-easy, spirit. Although born in a land where tyranny pre- vailed, where noble spirits were crushed, indepen- dence destroyed, and the people generally debased, there was an occasional glance in the black eye of Dobri Petroff which told of superior intelligence, a certain air of natural refinement, and a strong power of will. " No, Dobri, no ; not a rouble less," repeated the shopman. Petroff smiled, and shook back his black curly hair, as a lion might in sporting with an obstinate cub. At that moment a Turk entered. His position in society I could not at the time guess, but he had the overbearing manner of one who might have been raised by favour from a low to a high station. He pushed Petroff rudely out of his way, and claimed the entire attention of the shopman, which was at once and humbly accorded. A fine expression of fierce contempt flashed across Petroff's countenance; but to my surprise, he at once drew aside. A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 83 AVlien the Turk was served and had goue out, the shopman turned to me. " After Petroff," I said, bowing towards the man. The surprise and pleasure of Petroff was evidently- great, but he refused to take advantage of my courtesy, and seemed so overwhelmed with modest confusion at my persisting that he should be served before me, that he ultimately left the shop, much to my regret, without making his purchase. To my inquiries, the shopman replied that Dobri was the blacksmith of the place, and one of its best and steadiest workmen. After completing my purchases I left, and strolled through the village towards its further extremity. " The Turks seem to *ave it all their own way 'ere, sir," said Lancey, as we walked along. " If the treatment we have seen that man receive were the worst of it," I replied, " the Bulgarians would not have very much to complain of, though insolence by superiors to inferiors is bad enough. They have, however, more than that to bear, Lancey; the story of Bulgarian wrongs is a long and a very sad one." As we strolled beyond the village, and were ei^gaged in earnest converse on this subject, we suddenly came on a group of holiday-makers. A number of the peasantry were assembled in a 84 IN THE TKACK OF THE TROOPS field, engaged in dances, games, and athletic sports. We mingled with the crowd and looked on. They were engaged at the time in a wrestling match. Little notice was taken of our appearing, so intent were they on the proceedings. Two strong men were engaged in what I may call a tremendous hug. Each was stripped to the waist. Their muscles stood out like those of Hercules, as they strained and tugged. At last they went down, one being undermost, with both shoulder-blades touch- ing the ground, and a loud clieer greeted the victor as he stood up. Pie was a splendid aniuial, unquestionably — over six feet, with immense chest and shoulders, and modest withal ; but a man of about five feet eight stepped into the ring, and overthrew him with such ease that a burst of laughter mingled with the cheer that followed. The triumph of the little man was, however, short-lived, for a Bulgarian giant next made his appearance — evidently a stranger to those present — and after a prolonged struggle, laid the little man on his back. For some time this giant strutted about defiantly, and it appeared as if he were to remain the champion, for no one seemed fit or willing to cope with him. At last some gipsy girls who were sitting in front of the ring, urged one of their tribe, a tall, strong, young fellow, to enter the lists against the giant. A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 85 The youth consented, and entered the ring ; but a quick throw from the giant sent him sprawling, to the great disappointment of his brunette friends. Amongst the girls present, there sat a remarkably pretty young woman, whom the others endeavoured to urge to some course of action, to which she at first objected. After a little persuasion, how- ever, she appeared to give in, and, rising, left the circle. Soon after she returned with a magnificent specimen of humanity, whom she pushed into the ring with evident pride. It was Dobri Petroff. The villagers greeted him by name with a ringing cheer as he advanced. AYith a modest laugh he shook his huge an- tagonist by the hand. He stripped to the waist, and each man pre- sented a rounded development of muscular power, which would have done credit to any of the Homeric heroes ; but there was a look of grand in- telligence and refinement in Petroff's countenance, which would probably have enlisted the sympathies of the villagers even if he had been an utter stranger. Having shaken hands, the wrestlers began to walk round each otlier, eagerly looking for a chance to get the "catch." It seemed at first as if neither liked to begin, when, suddenly, the Bulgarian turned sharp on Petroff, and tried a favourite throw ; but SQ IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS with the lithe easy motion of a panther, the black- smith eluded his grasp. The excitement of the spectators became intense, for it now seemed as if the two huge fellows were well-matched, and that a prolonged struggle was about to take place. This, however, was a mistake. The villagers apparently had underrated the powers of their own champion, and the gipsy girls looked anxious, evidently fearing that the hitherto victorious stranger would again triumph. For some moments the cautious walk-round con-- tinned, then there was a sudden exclamation of surprise from the crowd, for the blacksmith seized his adversary by the waist, and with a quick throw, caused him to turn almost a somersault in the air, and to come down on his back with stun- ning violence. While the heavy fellow lay, as if slightly stunned, on the ground, Petroff stooped, again shook hands with him, and then lifting him high in the air, as though he had been but a boy, set him on his feet, and turned to resume his jacket, amid the enthusi- astic cheers of the people. Petroff 's jacket was handed to him by a pretty dark-eyed girl of about five years of age, who bore so strong a resemblance to the young woman who had brought the blacksmith on the scene, that I at once set them down as sisters. The child looked A TALE OF MODERN WAK. 87 np in the champion's face with such innocence that he could not resist the temptation to stoop and kiss her. Then, taking the little one's hand, he pushed through the crowd and left the ring. I observed that the young woman also rose and went with them. Feeling interested in these people, Lancey and I followed, and overtook them before they had quitted the field. I said in Eussian : — "Good-day, Petroff; you overthrew that fellow with greater ease than I had expected." The blacksmith gave me a look of pleased recog- nition as he returned my salutation. " Well, sir," he said, " it was not difficult. The man is strong enough, but does not understand the art well. You are an Englishman, I think." " I am," said I, somewhat surprised as well by the question as by the superior manner and address of the man. " It was a man from your land," returned Petroff, with a grave earnest look, " who taught me to wrestle, — a man from Cornwall. He was a sailor — a stout fellow, and a good man. His vessel had been anchored off our villai^je for some time, so that we saw a good deal of him. They had a passenger on board, who landed and went much about among the people. He was a German, and called himself a colporteur. He taught strange doctrines, and gave 88 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS away many Bibles, printed in the Bulgarian tongue." " Ah," said I, " no doubt he was an agent of the British and Foreign Bible Society." " Perhaps so," returned Petroff, with a somewhat perplexed look, " but he said nothing about that. His chief desire seemed to be to get us to listen to what he read out of his Bible. And some of us did listen, too. He gave one of the Bibles to my wife here, and she has been reading it pretty eagerly ever since." " What ! this, then, is your wife ? " I exclaimed. "Yes, Marika is my wife, and Ivanka is my daughter," replied Petroff, with a tender glance at the little girl that trotted by his side. " Perhaps, Marika, your Cornish friend may have taught you to speak English," said I, in my native tongue, turning to the woman. Marika shook her pretty head, laughed, and blushed. She seemed to understand me, but would not consent to reply in English. " The colporteur of whom you have spoken," said I, turning to the blacksmith, and again speaking Euss, " did you a great service when he gave your wife the Word of God." Dobri Petroff assented, but a frown for a minute overspread his face. " Yes," he said, " I admit that, but he also taught me to think, and it might have A TALE OF MODERN WAE. 89 been better for me — for many of ns in this land — if ^Ye did not think ; if we could eat and sleep and work like the brutes that perish." I feared that I knew too well what the man referred to, and would gladly have dropped the sub- ject, but could not do so without appearing rude. " It is always well to think," said I, " when we think rightly, that is, in accordance with the teach- ings of the Bible, about which we have just been speaking. Marika has read much of it to you, no doubt ? " '' She has," said the blacksmith, with a touch of sternness, " and among other things, she has read to me that ' oppression driveth even a wise man mad.' Am I to understand that as merely stating the fact or justifying tlie madness ? " Without waiting for a reply to the question, he went on, hurriedly — " You saw that Turk to-day, who pushed me aside as if I had been a dog ? That showed you the s2oirit of the men in power here, but you little know their practices — " " Petroff," said I, interrupting, and looking at the man earnestly, " forgive me if I say that we had better not discuss tlie subject now. I liave just arrived in your land, and know little about it }et. When I have seen and heard and thought much, I will be better able to umlerstaml you." 90 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS Petroff admitted with ready grace that I was right, and thrusting his fingers through the wild clustering curls of his black hair, as if to let the air circle more freely about his head, he turned sharp round, and pointed to a cottage which stood at a short distance from the high-road, at the entrance to the village. " That is our home, sir ; we shall feel happy if you will enter it." I willingly complied, and turned with them into the by-path that led to it. The cottage was a mere hut, long and low, one end of which constituted the forge, the other end, divided into three compartments, being the dwelling- house. Here I found the hand of Marika very evident, in the neatness and cleanliness of every- thing in and around the place. The owners were very poor, but there was sufficient for comfort and health. On a shelf in a corner lay the Bible which the family had received from the colporteur. It was the only book in the house, and evidently a cherished treasure. In another corner, on a rudely-made but warm couch, lay a treasure of a different stamp — a boy, apparently about two years of age. As I looked at the curly black hair, the well-shaped nose, the firm, rosy lips, and the broad brow, I turned to Petroff with a smile, and said— A TALE OF MODEllN WAR. 91 " I need not ask if that boy is yours." The man did not at once reply, but seized the child, ^Yhich our entrance had awakened, and raised it high above his head. "Do you hear that, little Dob? The gentleman Icnows who you are by your mother's eyes." "Nay," said I, with a laugh, "by its father's nose. But now that you mention the eyes, I do re- cognise the mother's plainly. How old is he ? " This was the first of a series of questions which opened the hearts of these people to me. On the strength of these jet-black eyes and the well-shaped nose, to say nothing of the colporteur and the Bible, Lancey and I struck np quite an intimate friend- ship, insomuch that at parting, little Dob gave me a familiar dab on the face, and Ivanka turned up her sweet little mouth to be kissed — quite readily and of her own accord. There is nothing on earth so captivating as a trustful child. My heart was knit to little Ivanka on the spot, and it was plain that little Dob and Lancey were mutually attracted. I remained at that village several days longer tlian I had intended, in order to cultivate the acquaintance of the blacksmith's family. During that time I saw a good deal of the other villngcrs, and found that Petroff was by no means a typical specimen. He was above liis compeers in all respects, except in his own opinion ; one of Nature's 92 IN THE TEACK OF THE TROOPS gentlemen, in short, who are to be found, not numerously perhaps, but certainly, in almost every land, with unusual strength of intellect, and breadth of thought, and power of frame, and force of will, and nobility of aspiration. Such men in free countries, become leaders of the good and brave. In despotic lands they become either the deliverers of their country or the pests of society — the teri-or of rulers, the fomentors of national discord. Doubt- less, in many cases, where right principles are brought to bear on them, they learn to submit, and, sometimes, become mitigators of the evils which they cannot cure. Most of the other inhabitants of this village, some of whom were Mohammedans, and some Christians of the Greek Church, were sufficiently commonplace and uninteresting. Many of them appeared to be simply lazy and inert. Others were kindly enough, but stupid, and some were harsh, coarse, and cruel, very much as we find the peasantry in other parts of the world where they are ill-treated or uncared for. While staying here I had occasion to go on shore one morning, and witnessed a somewhat remarkable scene in a caf^. Lancey and I, having made a longer excursion than usual and the day being rather hot, resolved to refresh ourselves in a native coffee-house. On A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 93 entering we found it already pretty well filled with Bulgarians, of whom a few were Moslems. They were apparently of the poorer class. Most of them sat on low stools, smoking chibouks — long pipes, with clay heads and amber mouth-pieces — and drinking coffee. The Christians were all engrossed, at the moment of our arrival, with a stranger, who from his appearance and the package of books which lay open at his side, I at once judged to be a col- porteur. Dobri Petroff, I observed, was near him, and iiiterested so deeply in what was going on, that he did not at first perceive us. Having selected some New Testaments and Bibles from his pack, the colporteur handed them round for inspection. These, I found, were printed in the modern Bulgarian tongue. The people greatly admired the binding of the volumes, and began to evince considerable interest in what the colporteur said about them. At last he proposed to read, and as no objection was made, he read and commented on several passages. Although a German, he spoke Bulgarian fluently, and ere long had aroused considerable interest, for the people had little or no knowledge of the Bible; the only one to which they had access being that which lay on the pulpit of the Greek Church of the village, and which, being written in the ancient Slavic language, was incuniprehensible by them. 94 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS The priests in the Gieek Church there are generally uneducated men, and their intoned services and " unknown tongue " do not avail much in the way of enlightenment. The schoolmasters, I was told by those who had good opportunity of judging, are much better educated than the priests. I observed that one of these, who had on a former visit been pointed out to me by my friend Dobri, sat not far from the colporteur smoking his chibouk with a grave critical expression of countenance. At last the colporteur turned to the 1 1 5th Psalm, and I now began to perceive that the man had a purpose, and was gradually leading the people on. It is well known that the Greek Church, although destitute of images in its religious buildings, accords the same reverence, or homage, to pictures which the Eomish Church does to the former. At first, as the colporteur read, the people listened with grave attention; but when he came to the verses that describe the idols of the heathen as being made of "silver and gold, the work of men's hands," with mouths that could not speak, and eyes that could not see, and ears that could not hear, several of the more earnest listeners began to frown, and it was evident that they regarded the language of the colporteur's book as applicable to their sacred pic- tures, and resented the implied censure. When he A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 95 came to the eightli verse, and read, " They that make them are like unto them, so is every one that trusteth in them," there were indignant murmurs ; for these untutored peasants, whatever their church might teach about such subtleties as worshipping God through pictures, accepted the condemnatory words in simplicity. "Why are you angry?" asked the colporteur, looking round. "Because," answered a stern old man who sat close to me, " your words condemn us as well as the heathen. They make out the pictures of our saints to be idols — images and pictures being one and the same thing." " But these are not mij words," said the colpor- teur, "they are the words of God." " If these words are true," returned the old man, with increasing sternness, " then we are all wrong ; but these words are not true — they are only the words of ijour Bible, about which we know nothing." " ]\Iy friends," returned the colporteur, holding up the volume from wliich he had been reading, "this is not only my Bible, it is also yours, the same thi*t is read in your own churches, only rendered into your own modern tongue." At this point Dobri Petroff, who, I observed, had been listening keenly to wliat was said, started up wi'ili vchomence, and exclaimed — 96 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS "If this be true, we can prove it. Our Bible lies in the neighbouring church, and here sits our schoolmaster who reads the ancient Slavic like his mother- tongue. Come, let us clear up the matter at once." This proposal was heartily agreed to. The Bulgarians in the cafe rose en masse, and, headed by the village schoolmaster, went to the church, where they found the Bible that the priests were in the habit of reading, or rather intoning, and turned up the 115th Psalm. It was found to correspond exactly with that of the colporteur ! The result was at first received in dead silence, and with looks of surprise by the majority. This was followed by murmuring comments and some disputes. It was evident that the seeds of an inquiring spirit had been sown that day, which would bear fruit in the future. The colporteur, wisely forbearing to press his victory at that time, left the truth to simmer * I joined him as he went out of the church, and, during a brief conversation, learned from him that an extensive work is being quietly carried on in Turkey, which, although not attracting much atten- tion, is nevertheless surely undermining the huge edifice of Error by means of the lever of Truth. * The facts on which the alDove is founded were given to the author by the Rev. Dr. Thomson, who has resided in Turkey as the agent of the British and Foreign Bible Society for upwards of thirty years. A TALE OF MODERN WAll. 9.7 Among other things, he said that in the year 1876 so many as twenty-eight thousand Bibles, translated into the modern native tongue, had been circulated in the Turkish Empire and in Greece by the British and Foreign Bible Society, while the Americans, who are busily engaged in the blessed work in Armenia, had distributed twenty thousand copies. Leaving the village of Yenilik and my Bul- garian friends with much regret, I continued the voyage up the Danube, landing here and there for a day or two and revelling in the bright weather, the rich prospects and the peaceful scenes of industry apparent everywhere, as man and beast rejoiced in the opening year. Time passed rapidly as well as pleasantly. Some- times I left the yacht in charge of Mr. Whitlaw, and in company with my trusty servant travelled about the country, conversing with Turks wherever I met them, thus becoming more and more versed in their language, and doing my best, without much success, to improve Lancey in the same. 98 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS CHAPTEE VII. THE BLACK CLOUDS GATHER. While I was enjoying myself thus, among tlie towns and villages on the banks of the Danube, admiring the scenery, cultivating the acquaintance of the industrious rural population of the great river, and making an occasional trip into the in- terior, the dogs of war were let loose, and the curtain rose on the darkest tragedy of the nineteenth century. The comic and the tragic are inextricably mingled in this world. I believe that this is no accident, but, like everything else, a special arrangement. "All fun makes man a fool," but "all sorrow" makes him a desperado. The feeling of anxiety aroused by the war news was, I may say, mitigated b}^ the manner of its announcement. " Sir," cried Lancey, bursting into the cabin one afternoon while I was preparing for a trip ashore, "the Eoossians 'as declared war, an' the whole country is gettin' hup in harms !" A TALE OF MODERN WAK. 99 Of course I had been well aware for some time past that there was a prospect, nay, a probability, of war ; but I had not allowed myself to believe it, because I have a strong natural tendency to give civilised men credit for more sense than they appear to possess. That Eussia would really draw the sword, and sacrifice millions of treasure, and thou- sands of her best young lives, to accomplish an object that could be more easily and surely attained by diplomacy, with the expenditure of little money and no bloodshed, seemed to me incredible. That the other European nations should allow this state of things to come to pass, seemed so ridiculous that I had all along shut my eyes to facts, and pro- ceeded on my voyage in the confidence of a peaceful solution of the " Eastern question." " In days of old," I said to my skipper, in our last conversation on this subject, which we were fond of discussing, " the nations were less educated than now, and less imbued perhaps with the principles of the peace-teaching gospel, which many of them profess to believe ; but now the Christian world is almost out of its teens ; intercommunication of ideas and interests is almost miraculously facile. Thought is well-nigh instantaneously flashed from hemisphere to liemisphere, if not from pole to pole ; commerce is so highly cultivated that international exhibitions of the raw material and the fal^rics of all nations are 100 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS the order of the day ; while good-will between man and man — to say nothing of woman — is so pre- valent, that I really find it hard to believe in the possibility of a great European war." " ISTevertheless/' replied Mr. Whitlaw, in a tone of cynicism, to which at times he gave pretty free indulgence, " the Crimean war occurred in the nineteenth century, and the American civil war, and the young widows of the Franco-Prussian war are not yet grey-haired, while their children have scarcely reached their teens. Truly, civilisation and the progress of knowledge, which men boast of so much, seem to be of little value." I pointed out to Mr. Whitlaw that he was wrong in supposing that civilisation is of little value. " If you compare the condition of the United States or England," I said, " with that of the Eed Indians of your own land, or with the semi-barbarous states of Asia, you must allow that civilisation has done much. It seems to me that the fault of mankind lies in expecting too much of that condition. Civilisation teaches man how to make the world most comfortable to himself and to his fellows ; but there is a higher attainment than that, and it is only Christianity which can teach man how to sacrifice himself for others, and, in so doing, to attain the same ends as those arrived at by civilisation, with more important and lasting ends in addition. A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 101 *'Well, then, on tliat principle/' objected the skipper, " you ought to expect war just now, for there is very little Christianity going that I can see, though plenty of civilisation." " On these points we differ, ]\Ir. Whitlaw," said I, " for there seems to me very little civilisation at present, considering the age of the world ; and, on the other hand, there is much genuine Christianity, — more, I believe, than meets the careless or the jaundiced eye. However, now that war has been declared, it becomes necessary that we should geb out of the Danube as fast as possible." Accordingly, the yacht's head was turned eastward, and we descended rapidly with the stream. My in- tention was good, but the result was disastrous ; not an unwonted state of things, the best intentions in human affairs being frequently doomed to miscarry. I must ask the reader now to turn aside with me from my own personal adventures, to events which had occurred near the banks of the Pruth, — the river that divides Eussia from Turkey. Here, on Tuesday, the 24th of April 1877, a scene of the utmost animation and excitement prevailed. The Emperor of " all tlie Itussias " was about to review his troops previous to the declaration of war on Turkey. Up to that time, of course, war had been expected — as regards the army, eagerly desired; but no declaration had absolutely been made. 102 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS Unglieni, where the railway crosses the Pruth, and not far from Kischeneff, the capital of Bess- arabia, was fixed on as the spot where the grand review should take place. Great were the preparations for the reception of his Majesty, for whether "majesty" be right or wrong, majesty must be honoured and cheered. Majesty, male or female, represents power, and power must be treated with respect, nay, ought to be so treated — when it behaves itself ! There is something overwhelmingly grand in multitude. Humanity cannot resist the influence. It is quite clear that the human race were meant to be gregarious. What were the orator without his multitude ? I might go further, and ask, What were the multitude without its orator ? Flags and banners waved, and ribbons rippled that day in Bessarabia, for the serried legions of Eussia marched in almost unending columns towards Ungheni, on the Eou- manian frontier, and, after they had passed, the Emperor himself made for the same point with the Grand Duke Nicholas, and the Czarewitch, and General Ignatieff, and the Minister of War, and many other dignitaries of the empire, with a numerous and gorgeous staff. The day was magnificent. The people who streamed out to see the review were enthusiastic. Perhaps, if they had been Bulgarian peasantry, and A TALE OF MODEEN WAR. 103 had been able to foresee the future, their enthusiasm would not have been so great. Yet I do not say that their enthusiasm was misplaced. They saw a nation's chivalry assembled to fight and die, if need be, in the nation's cause, with its Emperor to patronise, and its nobles to lead the legions on, in all of which there was ground for real enthusiasm. Among the regiments that marched that day to Ungheni was one to which I would draw special attention. It was not much better, perhaps, than the others, but it was a good typical Eussian regiment, and had a commander at its head who looked as if he could do it justice. They marched at a smart pace, four miles an hour, with a long, dogged, steady tramp that was clumsy to look at, but seemed likely to last. Few of the men were tall, but they were burly, square-set fellows, broad of shoulder, deep of chest, and smart of limb. They wore a French-like blue cap, with a red band round it, and a blue tunic, with loose blue trousers stuffed into boots that reached the knee. Their knapsacks were hairy, and their belts black, the latter suggest- ing deliverance from that absurdity of old, pipeclay. Their great-coats, heavy and brown, were worn i)i a roll over the left shoulder, and each man carried his own kettle, the latter being suggestive of tea and tuck-in, followed by tobacco and turn-in. Among these warriors, in lii? pro])or position, 104 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS marched a noteworthy young lieutenant. He wag my old college chum and brother-in-law to-be, Nicholas Naranovitsch, head and shoulders over his fellows, straight as a poplar, proud as a peacock, and modest as an untried man ought to be. The spot for the review was well chosen, on a gentle undulating hillside, which enabled the spec- tators to see the whole army at once. The weather was bright and sunny, as I have said, and the glitter of uniforms and thousands of bayonets with the broad blaze reflected from a long line of polished field-pieces, sent a thrill through many a heart, sug- gesting " glory." There were a few hearts also, no doubt, to whom they suggested the natural end for which these glorious things were called together — blood and murder, national ruination, broken constitutions, desolated homes, and sudden dea th. Holiday re lews are common enough all over the world, but thib was no holiday review. Every one knew that it was the prelude to war, and there was an appropriate gravity and silence in the conduct of spectators. It was deeply impressive, too, to watch the long lines and masses of troops, — each unit full of youth, strength, energy, enthusiasm, hope, — standing perfectly silent, absolutely motionless, like statues, for full an hour and a half. Their deep silence and immobility seemed to produce a sympa- A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 105 thetic condition in the spectators. There was no laughing, jesting, or " chaff" among them. Even when the Emperor arrived there was no cheering. A greater than the Emperor had over- awed them. They merely swayed open and took off hats deferentially as he passed. It was not till he began to ride round the lines with his brilliant staff that the silence was broken by music and cheers. Of the review itself I will not speak. That, and the three-quarters of an hour mass which followed, being over, a murmur of expectation ran through the crowd and along the ranks like a solemn growl. Then there was a deep, intense silence, which was faintly broken by the Bishop of Kischeneff reading the manifesto. He had not read far, when sobs were heard. It w^as the voice of the Emperor Alex- ander, who prided himself on the fact that the glory of his reign had hitherto been its peaceful character. They say that it had been his boast and hope that he should finish it without a war. Previously he had said to the troops : " I have done everything in my power to avoid war and bloodshed. ISTobody can say we have not been patient, or that the war has been of our seeking. We have practised patience to the last degree, but there comes a time when even patience must end. When that time comes, I know tliat tlic young Paissian army of 106 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS to-day will not sliow itself unwortliy of tlie fame whicli the old army won in days gone by.'* What the " young army " thought of the fame of its elder brother, as well as of the sobs of its present Emperor, may be gathered from the fact that it went all but mad with enthusiasm ! When the Bishop finished reading, there went up a wild and universal shout of joy — of exultation, of triumph, of relief, as though a great weight of suspense had been lifted from the hearts of the multitude. It spread through the army like light, anji was raised again and again, until the very vault of heaven seemed to thunder, while the soldiers tossed their caps in the air, or twirled them on their bayonets for several minutes. Then the ordre du jour of the Grand Duke Nicholas, commander-in-chief of the army, was read to every battalion, squadron, and battery, and the day's work was done. The right was legally and constitutionally granted to some hundreds of thou- sands of young men to go. forth and slaughter, burn, and destroy, to their hearts' content — in other words, to " gather laurels." It was a sad day's work — sad for Turkey, sad for Eussia, sad for Europe, and especially sad for the women, children, and old people of the theatre of the future war. It was a good day's work for nobody and for notching; but it was tlie legitimate A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 107 outcome of work that had been going on for years before. In pondering over the matter since, I have often been led to ask myself with considerable surprise, Why did this war occur — who wanted it? It is quite plain that Europe did not, equally plain that Turkey did not, still more plain that the Emperor Alexander did not, for he wept at the prospect of it " like a child." Who, then, did desire and cause it? There are some things in this remarkable world that no man can understand. At "all events I cannot. When I put the same question, long afterwards, to my dear and ever- sagacious mother, she replied, " Do you not think, Jeff, that perhaps the men in power, somewhere, wanted it and caused it ? There are some countries, you know, where the peo2')le are mere chessmen, who have nothing what- ever to do or say in the management of their own affairs, and are knocked about, wisely or foolishly as the case may be, by the men in 'power. England herself was in that sad case once, if we are to believe our school histories, and some of tlie Euro- pean nations seem to be only now struggling slowly out of that condition, wliile others are still in bondage." I think my mother was right. After mucli consideration, I have come to tlie conclusion that war is usually, thougli not always, caused by a 108 IN THE TRACK OF THE TEOOPS few ambitious men in power at the head of enslaved or semi-enslaved nations. Not always, I repeat, because free nations, being surrounded by savage, barbarous, and semi-free, are sometimes wheedled, dragged, or forced into war in spite of themselves. After the review some of the regiments started directly for the frontier. Nicholas JSTaranovitsch was summoned to the presence of his colonel. Nicholas was very young and inexperienced ; nevertheless, during the brief period in which he had served, he had shown him- self possessed of so much ability and wisdom that he was already selected to go on a secret mission. What that mission was he never told me. One result of it, however, was, that he and I had a most unexpected meeting on the Danube in very peculiar circumstances. A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 109 CHAPTEE VIII. TREATS OF TORPEDOES, TERRIBLE CATASTROPHES, UNEXPECTED MEETINGS, AND SUCH LIKE. To return to my personal experiences. It now became a matter of the deepest importance that we should get out of the river before the Eussian army- reached its banks and stopped the navigation. The weather, however, was against us. It rained a gi^eat deal, and the nights were very dark. The swollen current, it is true, was in our favour ; nevertheless, as we had already spent several weeks in ascending the river, it was clear that we should have to race against time in retracing our course. One dark night about the end of May, as we were approaching the Lower Danube, and speculat- ing on the probability of our getting out in time, I gave orders to run into a creek and cast anchor, in- tending to land and procure a supply of fresh meat, of which we liad run short. " Better wait for daylight, sir," suggested my skipper. "It's not unlikely, in these days of tor- 110 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS pedoes, that the entrance to places may be guarded by them." The skipper was so far right. The entrance to unimportant creeks, indeed, had not been guarded, but the Eussians had already laid down many tor- pedoes in the river to protect them from Turkish ironclads while engaged in constructing their pon- toon bridges. He had scarcely made the remark, when I was half stunned by a shock under my feet, which seemed to rend the yacht asunder. There followed a terrific report, and the deck was instantly deluged with water. There could be no doubt what had occurred. We had touched a torpedo, and the yacht was already sinking. We rushed to our little boat in consternation, but before we could lower it, our trim little vessel went down, stern fore- most. For a few moments there was a horrible rushing sound in my ears, and I felt that I could hold my breath no longer when my head rose above the sur- face. I struck out with a gasp of relief, which was, as it were, echoed close to me. I looked round, as well as darkness and water would allow, and ob- served an object floating near me. I pushed towards it, and just as I caught hold, I heard a panting voice exclaim — " 'Eaven be praised ! " " Amen," said I ; "is that you, Lancey ? " A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 1 1 1 " It is, sir, au' I 'm right glad to 'ear your voice. Cetcli a tight 'old, sir ; it 's big enough for two." " What is it ? " I asked. " One of the 'en- coops," said Lancey. " It 's too small for two, I fear," said I, seizing hold of it. " Hall right, sir ; it '11 'old us both. I can swim." Clinging to our frail support we were hurried by the rapid current we knew not whither, for, although the moon was in the sky, it was so covered \vith black clouds that we could not see whether we were being swept towards the shore or into the middle of the stream. Besides this, the wind was chiving the rain and dashing the water into our eyes continually. " Lancey," I gasped, " it is u — useless to let our- selves be — swe — swept about at the will of chance currents. The river is very wi — wide. Let us place ourselves side by side — and — strike — out — in — the — same — d'rection. Uniformity of action — neces- sary — in desp'r't situations ! " Lancey at once acted on my suggestion, gasping that " Haction of — of — hany kind would tend to — to — k — p limbs warm." We proceeded in silence for some minutes, when I observed tlie masts and rigging of several vessels drawn faintly against the dark sky. They were 112 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS considerably to our right, and the current was evidently bearing us away from them. " A strong effort now, Lancfey/' said I, " and we may reach them." I could feel, as well as see, that my faithful ser- vant exerted himself to the utmost. As we approached the vessels, their huge black hulls loomed up out of the dark surroundings, and were pictured against the sky, which, dark though it was, had not the intense blackness of the vessels themselves. We passed the nearest one within twenty yards. " Let go, sir, and swim for it," cried Lancey. " No, no ! " I cried earnestly, " never let go your—" I stopped, for Lancey had already let go, and made a dash for the nearest ship. I heard him hail, and saw the flashing of lights for a moment, then all was dark again and silent, as I was hurried onward. The feeling of certainty that he could not have been saved with so rapid a current sweep- ing him past, filled my mind with intense anxiety. Just then I felt a shock. The hen-coop had been driven against another vessel, which I had not observed. I tried to grasp her, but failed. I uttered a loud cry, not with the expectation that the crew of the vessel could save me, — that I knew to be impossible, A TALE OF MODEKN WAR. 113 — ^but in the hope that they might be ready for Lancey shoukl he be carried close to them. Then I was dragged onward by the powerful current, and tossed like a cork on the river. I had observed in passing that the vessel was a Turkish ironclad, and came to the conclusion that I had passed the Turkish flotilla, which I knew was at that time lying near the fortress of Matchin. At the very time that I was being thus driven about by the wild waters, and praying to God for the deliverance of my comrades and myself — some- times audibly, more frequently in spirit — another and a very different scene was taking place, not far off, on the Eoumanian shore. The wind had fallen; the clouds that covered the moon had just thinned enough to render dark- ness visible, and nothing was to be heard save the continual croaking of the frogs, which are very large and numerous in the marshes of the Danube, when four boats pushed off and proceeded quickly, yet quietly, up the river. No men were visible in these boats, no sails, no oars. They were "steam launches," and were destined for a night attack on the flotilla which I had just passed. Their crews were covered nearly from stem to stern by iron bullet-proof awnings, which, as well as the boats, were painted black The engines were so constructed as to make tho II 114 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS least possible amount of noise, and when speed was reduced no sound was heard save a dull throb- bing that was almost drowned by the croaking frogs. It was a little after midnight when these boats set out — two being meant to attack, and two to remain in support. They had seven miles of river to traverse before reaching the enemy, and it was while they were in the midst of their voyage that I chanced to meet them, clinging to my hen-coop. They came so straight at me that I was on the point of being run down by the leading boat, when I gave a sharp " halloo ! " It was replied to by one that indicated surprise, and was decidedly English in tone. Next moment the launch scraped violently against my raft, and I saw a hand extended. Grasping it, I was drawn quickly into the boat. Another hand instantly covered my mouth, and I was thrust down into the bottom of the boat with considerable violence. Being allowed to raise myself a little, the chink of a dark lantern was opened, and the light streamed full upon me. It at the same time lighted up several faces, the inquiring eyes of which gazed at me intently. A stern voice demanded who I was. Just then a gleam of light fell on a countenance which gazed at me with open-mouthed and open-eyed amazement. It was that of Nicholas Naranovitsch I A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 115 I was just going to answer, when the sight of him struck me dumb. Nicholas touched the officer who had questioned me on the shoulder, and whispered in his ear. He at once closed the lantern, leaving us all in total darkness, while Nicholas caught me by the arm, and, making me sit down on a box of some kind beside him, gave vent tp his surprise in hurried, broken whispers. A short time sufficed to explain how it was that I came to be there. Then he began to tell me about his being sent pn a secret expedition, and his having obtained leave to join in this midnight attack by torpedo-boats, wOien a low stern order to be silent compelled him to stop. From that moment he and I remained perfectly quiet and observant. After an hour's steaming^ the Eussian launches came to the immediate neighbourhood of the enemy's flotilla, and the engines were slow^ed. Each boat was armed wdth two torpedoes attaches to the end of two long spars, which moved on pivots, and could also be dipped so that the torpedoes should be sunk ten feet under water at any mo- ment. These torpedoes — each being about twenty inches long, by about fifteen in ditimeter — had a double action. They could be fired l)y " contact," or, in the event of that failing, by electricity. The 116 IN THE TKACK OF THE TKOOPS latter mode could be accomplislied by an electric battery in a little box in the stern of each boat, with which a long cable, quarter of an inch thick, of fine wires twisted together, connected each torpedo. All this, of course, I learned afterwards. At the time, sitting in almost total darkness, I knew nothing more than that we were bound on a torpedo expedition. I could scarcely persuade myself that it was not a dream, but my numbed frame and drenched garments were too real to be doubted, and then I fancied it must be a special judgment to punish me for the part I had taken in the improve- ment of these terrible implements of war. Despite the slowing of the engines and the dead silence that prevailed the boats were observed by the Turkish sentinels as we approached. " Who goes there ?" was demanded in the Turkish language. The launch in which I sat was the first to ap- proach, but the of&cer in command took no notice and made no reply. Again the sentinel challenged — perhaps doubting whether in the darkness his eyes had not deceived him as well as his ears. Still no answer was given. The darkness was not now quite so intense, and it was evident that longer concealment was impos- sible; when, therefore, the challenge Avas given a third time, our Eussian commander replied, and I A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 117 thoiiglit I observed a grim smile on liis countenance as lie said in Turkish, " Friends !" The sentinel, however, seeing that we continued to advance, expressed his disbelief in our friendship by firing at us. Then there began an uproar the like of which I had never before conceived. Being very near the Turkish monitor at the time, we distinctly heard the clattering of feet, the shout and rush of sailors, and the hurried commands to prepare for action. There was no lack of promptitude or energy on board the vessel. There was some lack of care or discipline, however, for I heard the order for the bow gun to be fired given three times, and heard the click of the answering hammer three times in little more than as many seconds, betokening a determined miss-fire. But if the bow gun had gone off, and sent one of us to the bottom, there would still have been three boats left to seal the vessel's fate. At the fourth order a globe of flame leaped from the iron side of the monitor and a heavy shot went harmlessly over our heads. Shouts and lights in the other vessels showed that the entire flotilla was aroused. I observed that the launch next to ours drew off, and we advanced alone, while the other two re- mained well behind, ready to support. A sharp 118 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS fusilade had now been opened on us, and we heard the bullets pattering on our iron screen like unearthly hail, but in spite of this the launch darted like a wasp under the monitors bow. The torpedoes were arranged so as to be detached from their spars at any moment and affixed by long light chains to any part of an attacked ship. Eound a rope hanging from the bow of the vessel one of these chains was flung, and the torpedo was dropped from the end of the spar, while the launch shot away, paying out the electric cable as she went. But this latter was not required. The torpedo swung round by the current and hit the ship with sufficient violence. It exploded, and the column of water that instantly burst from under the monitor half filled and nearly swamped us as we spied away. The noise was so great that it nearly drowned for an instant the shouts, cries, and firing of the Turks. The whole flotilla now began in alarm to fire at random on their imseen foes, and sometimes into each other. Meanwhile the launches, like vicious mosquitoes, kept dodging about, struck often, though harmlessly, by small shot, but missed by the large guns. Our commander now perceived that the monitor he had hit was sinking, though slowly, at the bows. He shouted, therefore, to the second launch to go at her. She did so at once ; slipped in, under the fa-e and smoke that belched from her side, and Ill; TLTviv.s T.)i;n;i).^r.!», -r.,..i.... A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 119 fixed another torpedo to her stern in the same manner as the former. The officer in charge per- ceived, however, that the current would not drive it against the ship. He therefore shot away for a hundred yards, — the extent of his electric cable, — and then fired the charge. A terrible explosion took place. Parts of the ship were blown into the air, and a huge plank came down on the Eussian launch, like an avenging thunderbolt, pierced the iron screen, which had so effectually resisted the bullets, and passed between two sailors without injuring either. It did no further damage, how- ever, and when the crew turned to look at their enemy, they saw the great ironclad in the act of sinking. In a few minutes nothing of her was left above water except her masts. The crew were drowned, with the exception of a fe^\^ who escaped by swimming. By this time it was daybreak, and our danger, within near range of the other monitors, of course be- came very great. Just then an incident occurred which might have proved fatal to us. Our screw fouled, and the boat became unmanage- able. Observing this, a Turkish launch from one of the monitors bore down upon us. One of our sailors, who chanced to be a good diver, jumped over the side and cleared the screw. Meanwhile the men opened so heavy a fire on the enemy's 120 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS launch that she veered off, and a few minutes later we were steaming down the Danube towards the place from which the boats had set forth on their deadly mission. "That was gloriously done, wasn*t it?" said Nicholas to me with enthusiasm, after the first blaze of excitement began to abate ; — " one of the enemy's biggest ironclads sent to the bottom, with all her crew, at the trifling expense of two or three hundred pounds' weight of powder, and not a man injured on our side ! " I looked earnestly in my friend's handsome face for a few seconds. " Yes," said I, slowly ; " many thousands of pounds' worth of human property destroyed, months of human labour and ingenuity wasted, and hun- dreds of youBg lives sacrificed, to say nothing of relatives bereaved and souls sent into eternity before tlieir time — truly, if that is glory, it has been gloriously done !" " Bah ! Jeff," returned Nicholas, with a smile ; " you 're not fit to live in this world, you should have had a special one created for yourself. But come, let me hear how you came to be voyaging a la Boyton on the Danube." We at once began a rapid fire of question and reply. Among other things, Nicholas informed me that the; two boats which had accomplished this A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 121 daring feat were commanded by Lieutenants DuLa- soff and Thestakoff, one with a crew of fourteen, the other of nine, men. " The world is changing, JN'icholas/' said I, as we landed. " That the wooden walls of Old England have passed away has long been acknowledged by every one, but it seems to me now that her iron walls are doomed to extinction, and that ere long the world's war-navies will consist of nothing but torpedo-boats, and her wars will become simply tournaments therewith." " It may be so," said Nicholas gaily, as he led the way .to his quarters. " It may be that extremes shall meet at last, and we shall be reduced by sheer necessity to universal peace." " That would be glorious indeed," said I, " though it would have the uncomfortable effect of leavin^r you without employment." " Well, in the meantime," he rejoined, " as you are without employment just now, you must con- sider yourself my prisoner, for of course you cannot remain among us witliout passport, profession, pur- pose, or business of any kind. To be shot for a spy is your legitimate due just now. But we shall want surgeons soon, and newspaper correspondence is not a bad business in these times; come, I'll see what can be done for you." 122 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS CHAPTEE IX. IN WHICH LANCEY IS TRIED, SUSPECTED, BLOWN UP, CAPTURED, HALF-HANGED, DELIVERED, AND ASTONISHED. We must turn now to poor Lancey, from wliom I parted in the waters of the Danube, but with whose fate and doings I did not become acquainted until long afterwards. As I had anticipated, he missed the vessel of the Turkish flotilla towards which he had struck out, but fortunately succeeded in grappling the chain cable of that which lay next to it, and the crew of which, as the reader will recollect, I had roused by a sh-out in passing. Lancey soon let the Turks know where he was. A boat being lowered, he w^as taken on board, but it was clear to him that he was regarded with much suspicion. They hurried him before the officer in charge of tlie deck, who questioned him closely. The poor fellow now found that his knowledge of the Turkish language was much slighter than, in the pride of his heart, while studying with me, he liad imagined. Not only did he fail to understand • A TALE or MODERNMYAR. 123 what was said to liim, but the dropping of Ji's and the introduction of r's in wrong places rendered his own efforts at reply abortive. In these circum- stances one of the sailors who professed to talk English was sent for. This man, a fine stalwart Turk, with a bushy black beard, began his duties as interpreter with the question — "Hoosyoo?" " Eh ? say that again," said Lancey, with a per- plexed look. " Hoosyoo ?" repeated the Moslem, with emphasis. " Hoosyoo," repeated Lancey slowly. " Oh, I see," (with a smile of sudden intelligence,) "who's you? just so. I 'm Jacob Lancey, groom in the family of Mrs. Jeffry Childers, of Eagend, in the county of Devonshire, England." This having been outrageously misunderstood by the Turk, and misinterpreted to the ofi&cer, the next question was — " Wessyoocumfro ?" Again Lancey repeated the word, and once more, with a smile of sudden intelligence, exclaimed, " Ah, I see : were 's you come from ? AVell, I last come from the water, 'aviu' previously got into it through the hupsettin' of our boat." Lancey hereupon detailed the incident which had left him and me struggling in the water, but the 124 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS little that was understood by the Turks was evi- dently not believed ; and no wonder, for by that time the Eussians had been laying down torpedoes in all directions about the Danube, to prevent the enemy from interfering with their labours at the pontoon bridges. The Turkish sailors were thus rendered suspicious of every unusual circumstance that came under their notice. When, therefore, a big, powerful, and rather odd-looking man was found clinging to one of their cables, they at once set him down as an unsuccessful torpedoist, and a careful search was instantly made round the vessel as a precaution. Meanwhile Lancey was led rather roughly down to the cabin to be questioned by the captain. The cabin, although very luxurious in its fittings, was not so richly ornate as had been anticipated by the English groom, whose conceptions of everything Eastern had been derived from the Arabian Nights' Entertainments, or rather from a fanciful imagina- tion fed by that romantic work. The appearance of the Turkish captain, however, and the brightly- coloured costume of an officer who sat by his side, were sufficiently striking and Oriental. On Lancey being placed before him, the captain turned and said a few words to the officer at his side, who was a splendid fellow, in the prime of life, with a square bony frame and red beard, which harmonised, if it did not contrast, with his scarlet A TALE OF MODERN WAIJ. 125 fez and blue tassel. A rich Eastern sliawl encircled his waist, from the folds of which peeped the handles of a brace of pistols. He looked at the dripping Englishman earnestly and sternly for a few moments, and the slightest tinge of a smile lighted his grave countenance as he said in broken, but sufficiently fluent English — " The captin do want you to repeat vat you have say on deck." Lancey repeated it, with a considerable number of additions, but no variations. After translating it all, and listening to something in reply, the officer turned again to Lancey. " The captin," he said, with quiet gravity, " bids me tell to you that you is a liar." Lancey flushed deeply. "I would tell you" he said, with a frown, "to tell the captain that 'c's another, on'y that would show I was as bad-mannered as 'imself." "If I do tells him zat," returned the officer, " you should have your head cutted off immediately." Lancey's indignation having already half-cooled, and his memory being refreshed just then with some vivid remembrances of the Eastern mode of summoning black slaves by the clapping of hands, followed by the flying off of heads or the prompt application of bowstrings to necks, he said, still liowcvcr with an offended ah- — 126 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS " Well then, tell 'im what you like, hall I've got to say is that I've told the plain truth, an' 'e's welcome to believe it or not as 'e likes." Without the slightest change in his grave counten- ance, or his appearing in the least degree offended by Lancey's free-and-easy manner, the red-bearded officer again turned to address the captain. Lancey now observed that the latter replied with a degree of deferential respect which seemed unnatural in mere brother officers. " You is regarded as a spy," said the red-beard, turning once more to Lancey, and fixing his cold grey eye intently on him, as if to read his thoughts. "No, I ain't a spy," returned the unfortunate man, somewhat bitterly, "nor never mean to be. 'Ang me if you like. I 've nothink more to say." Neither the captain nor the red-bearded officer replied, but the former waved his hand, and the two sailors who had led Lancey to the cabin again seized him and led him away, more roughly than before. The free spirit of my poor servant resented this unnecessary rudeness, and he felt a strong inclination to fight, but discretion, or some faint remembrance of scimitars and bowstrings, induced him to submit. Full well did he know what was the fatal doom of a spy, and a sinking of the heart came over him as he thought of immediate execution. At the A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 127 very least, lie counted on being heavily ironed and thrust into the darkest recesses of the hold. Great, then, was his surprise when the man who had at first acted as interpreter took him below and supplied him with a dry shirt and a pair of trousers. Thankfully accepting these, and standing between two guns, he put them on. " Who is the hofficer with the red beard ? " he asked, while thus enc^aQ;ed. The interpreter seemed unwilling to answer at first, but, on a repetition of the question replied — " Pasha." " Pasha, eh ? Ah, that accounts for the respect of the cap'n — rather shorter in the legs these 'ere than I could 'ave wished; 'owever, beggars, they say, mustn't be — well, they're wide enough any- 'ow. — A Pasha, is 'e ? Don't look like a sailor, though. Is 'e a sailor ? " " No/' replied the interpreter sharply. "Well, well, no offence meant," said Lancey, buttoning his shirt. " If you don't feel commooni- cative / won't trouble you, no more than to thank ee for the shirt an' trousers, wliich the latter bein' dry is a blessin', though they air a trifle short in the legs an' wide in the 'ips." After this Lancey was supplied with food. While he was eating it he was startled by a sudden rushin;^ and .slioutiiiir, which was immc- 128 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS diately followed by the discharge of musketry on deck. He sprang up, and seeing that the Turkish sailors were grasping their arms and swarming up the hatchways, he mingled with one of the streams. No one paid any attention to him. At that moment he felt a shock which he afterwards described as resembling an earthquake or the blowing up of a powder-magazine. Part of the planking near to where he stood was shattered. Some of the guns appeared almost to leap for an instant a few inches into the air. Gaining the deck he ascertained that an attack of Eussian torpedo-boats was going on. It was, in fact, the attack which I have already described, the monitor by which Lancey was rescued being that which had been selected by the Eussian commander as his victim. When the second torpedo exploded, as already described, Lancey was standing near the gangway, and saw that the men were lowering the boats in urgent haste, for the vessel was evidently sinking. " Yoos know 'bout dat," said a stern voice neai him. At the same moment he was seized by the interpreter and another man, who made an effort to hurl him into the sea. But Lancey was strong, and tenacious of life. Before a third sailor, who was about to aid his comrades, could act, the red -bearded officer appeared with the captain and was about to A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 129 descend into the boat when he observed Lancey struggling in the grasp of the sailors. " Spy ! " he exclaimed in the Turkish tongue, " you must not escape. Get into the boat." The sailors fell back. Lancey, not sure whether to regard this as temporary deliverance or his death- warrant, hesitated, but at a sign from the Pasha he was collared by five or six men and hurled into the bottom of the boat, where he lay, half-stunned, while they rowed towards the shore. Before reach- ing it, however, he was still doomed to lowAi handling, for one of the shots from the large guns, which were fired almost at random from the flotilla, accidentally struck the boat and sent it to the bottom. Lancey was a good swimmer. The cold water restored him to full vigour, and he struck out boldly for the shore. He soon left the boat's crew behind, with the exception of one man Avho kept close to his side all the way. As they neared the shore, however, this man suddenly cried out lik^ one who is drowning. A second time he cried, and the gurgling of his voice told its own tale. The stout Englishman could not bear to leave a human being to perish, whetlier friend or foe. lie swam towards the drowning man and supported him till their feet touched bottom. Then, perceiving that lie was able to stagger I 130 IN THE TEACK OF THE TliOOPS along unassisted, Lancey pushed hurriedly from his side in the hope of escaping from any of the crew who might reach land, for they were evidently the reverse of friendly. He landed among a mass of bulrushes. Stag- gering through them, and nearly sinking at every step, he gradually gained firmer footing. " Ah, Jacob," he muttered to himself, pausing for a few minutes' rest, " little did you think you 'd git into such an 'orrible mess as this w'en you left 'ome. Sarves you right for quittin' your native land." With this comforting reflection he pushed on again, and soon found himself on a road which led towards a town, or village, whose lights were dis- tinctly visible. What should he do? The village was on the Bulgarian side, and the natives, if not enemies, would of course become so on learning from any of the saved men of the monitor who he was. To swim across the Danube he felt was, after his recent exer- tions, impossible. To remain where he was would be to court death among the frogs. Lancey was a prompt man. Eight or wrong, his conclusions were soon come to and acted on. He de- cided to go straight to the village and throw himself on the hospitality of the people. In half an hour he found himself once more a prisoner ! Worse than that ; the interpreter, who was among the men saved A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 131 from tlie wreck, chanced to discover liim and de- nounced liim as a spy. The mood in which the Turks then were was not favourable to him. He was promptly locked up, and about daybreak next morning was led out to execution. Poor Lancey could scarcely credit his senses. He had often read of such things, but had never fally realised that they were true. That he, an innocent man, should be hung off-hand, without trial by jury or otherwise, in the middle of the nineteenth century, was incredible ! There was something terribly real, however, in the galling tightness of the rope that confined his arms, in the troop of stern horsemen that rode on each side of him, and in the cart with ropes, and the material for a scaffold, which was driven in front towards the square of the town. There was no sign of pity in the people or of mercy in the guards. The contrivance for effecting the deadly opera- tion was simple in the extreme, — two large triangles with a pole resting on them, and a strong rope attached thereto. There was no " drop." An empty box sufficed, and this was to be kicked away when the rope was round his neck. Even up to the point of putting the rope on, Lancey would not believe. Eeader, have you ever been led out to be hanged ? If not. be tliankful ! Tlie conditions of mind con- 132 IN THE TRACK OF THE TEOOPS sequent on that state of things is appalling. It is also various. Men take it differently, according to their par- ticular natures; and as the nature of man is remarkably complex, so the variation in his feeling is exceedingly diverse. There are some who, in such circumstances, give way to abject terror. Others, whose nervous system is not so finely strung and whose sense of justice is strong, are filled with a rush of indignation, and meet their fate with savage ferocity, or with dogged and apparent indifference. Some, rising above sublunary matters, shut their eyes to all around and fix their thoughts on that world with which they may be said to be more immediately connected, namely, the next. Lancey went through several of these phases. When the truth first really came home to him he quailed like an arrant coward. Then a sense of violated justice supervened. If at that moment Samson's powers had been his, he would have snapped the ropes that bound him like packthread, and would have cut the throat of every man around him. "When he was placed upon the substitute for a " block," and felt by a motion of his elbows his utter powerlessness, the dogged and indifferent state came on, but it did not last. It could not. His Christian training was adverse to it. A TALE OF MODEKN WAR. 133 " Come," he mentally exclaimed, " it is God's will. Quit you like a man, Jacob — and die I" There is no doubt that in this frame the brave fellow would have passed away if he had not been roused by the loud clattering of horses' feet as a cavalcade of glittering Turkish officers dashed through the square. In front of these he observed the red-bearded officer who had acted as interpreter in the cabin of the Turkish monitor. There came a sudden gush of hope ! Lancey knew not his name, but in a voice of thunder he shouted — " 'Elp 1 'elp ! 'alio ! Pasha ! Eedbeard !— ' The executioner hastened his work, and stopped the outcry b}^ tightening the rope. But ''Eedbeard " had heard the cry. He galloped towards the place of execution, recognised the supposed spy and ordered him to be released, at the same time himself cutting the rope with a sweep of his sword. The choking sensation which Lancey had begun to feel was instantly relieved. The rope was removed from his neck, and he was gently led from the spot by a soldier of the Pasha's escort, while the Pasha himself galloped coolly away w4th his staff. If Lancey was surprised at the sudden and unex- pected nature of his deliverance, he was still more astonished at the treatment wliich he thereafter 134 IN THE TKACK OF THE TROOPS experienced from the Turks. He was taken to one of the best hotels in the town, shown into a hand- some suite of apartments, and otherwise treated with marked respect, while the best of viands and the choicest of wines were placed before him. This made him very uncomfortable. He felt sure that some mistake had occurred, and would willingly have retired, if possible, to the hotel kitcLen or pantry; but the waiter, to whom he modestly suggested something of the sort, did not understand a word of English and could make nothing of Lancey's Turkish. He merely shook his head and smiled respectfully, or volimteered some other article of food. The worthy groom therefore made up his mind to hold his tongue and enjoy himself as long as it lasted. " When I wakes up out o' this remarkable and not unpleasant dream," he muttered, between the whiffs of his cigarette, one evening after dinner, " I '11 write it out fair, an' 'ave it putt in the Daily Noos or the Times!* But the dream lasted so long that Lancey began at last to fear he should never awake from it. Tor a week he remained at that hotel, faring sumptuously, and quite unrestrained as to his movements, though he could not fail to observe that he was closely watched and followed wherever he went. " Is it a Plenipotentiary or a furrin' Prime Minister A TALE OF MODEKN WAR. 135 they take me for ? " he muttered to himself over a mild cigar of the finest quality, " or mayhap they think I 'm a Prince in disguise ! But then a man in disguise ain*t known, and therefore can't be foUered, or, if he was, what would be the use of his disguise ? No, I can't make it out, no'ow." Still less, by any effort of his fancy or otherwise, could he make out why, after a week's residence at the village in question, he was ordered to prepare for a journey. This order, like all others, was conveyed to him by signs. Some parts of his treatment had been managed otherwise. When, for instance, on the night of his deliverance, it had been thought desirable that his garments should be better and more numerous, his attendants or keepers had removed his old wardrobe and left in its place another, which, although it comprehended trousers, savoured more of the East than the West. Lancey submitted to this, as to everything else, like a true philosopher. Generally, however, the wishes of those around him were conveyed by means of signs. On the morning of his departure, a small valise, stuffed with the few articles of comfort which he re^iuired, and a change of apparel, was placed at his l)ed-side. The hotel attendant, who had apparently undertaken the management of him, packed this up in llie morning, liaving somewliat pointedly placed 136 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS within it his robe de nuit. Thereafter the man bowed, smiled gravely, pointed to the door, beckoned him to follow, and left the room. By that time Lancey had, as it were, given him- self up. He acted with the unquestioning obedience of a child or a lunatic. Following his guide, he found a native cart outside with his valise in it. Beside the cart stood a good horse, saddled and bridled in the Turkish fashion. His hotel-attendant pointed to the horse and motioned to him to mount. Then it burst upon Lancey that he was about to quit the spot, perhaps for ever, and, being a grateful fellow, he could not bear to part without making some acknowledgment. "My dear Turk, or whatever you are," he exclaimed, turning to his attendant, " I 'm sorry to say good-bye, an' I 'm still more sorry to say that I 've nothin' to give you. A ten-pun-note, if I 'ad it, would be but a small testimony of my feelin's, but I do assure you I 'av'n't got a rap." In corroboration of this he slapped his empty pockets and shook his head. Then, breaking into a benignant smile, he shook hands with the waiter warmly, turned in silence, mounted his horse and rode off after the native cart, which had already started. •'You don't know where we 're goin' to, I s'pose?" said Lancey to the driver of the cart. A TALK OF MODERN WAK. 137 The man stared, but made no reply. " Ah, I thought not ! " said Lancey ; then he tried him in Turkish, but a shake of the head intimated the man's stupidity, or his interrogator's incapacity. Journeying in silence over a flat marshy country, they arrived about mid-day at a small village, before the principal inn of which stood a number of richly-caparisoned chargers. Here Lancey found that he was expected to lunch and join the party, though in what capacity he failed to discover. The grave uncommunicative nature of the Turks had perplexed and disappointed him so often that he had at last resigned himself to his fate, and given up asking questions, all the more readily, perhaps, that his fate at the time chanced to be a pleasant one. When the party had lunched, and were preparing to take the road, it became obvious that he was not regarded as a great man travelling incognito, for no one took notice of him save a Turk who looked more like a servant than an aristocrat. This man merely touched him on the shoulder and pointed to his liorse with an air that savoured more of command than courtesy. Lancey took the hint and mounted. He also kept modestly in rear. AVhen the cavalcade was ready a distinguished-looking officer issued from the inn, mounted his cliarger, and at once rode 138 IN THE TRACK OF THE TKOOPS away, followed by the others. He was evidently a man of rank. Eor several days they journeyed, and during this period Lancey made several attempts at conver- sation with the only man who appeared to be aware of his existence — who, indeed, was evidently his guardian. But, like the rest, this man was taciturn, and all the information that could be drawn out of him was that they were going to Con- stantinople. I hasten over the rest of the journey. On reaching the sea, they went on board a small steamer which appeared to have been awaiting them. In course of time they came in sight of the domes and minarets of Stamboul, the great city of the Sultans, the very heart of Europe's apple of discord. It was evening, and the lights of the city were everywhere glittering like long lines of quivering gold down into the waters of the Bosporus. Here the party with which Lancey had travelled left him, without even saying good-bye, — all except his guardian, who, on landing, made signs that he was to follow, or, rather, to walk beside him. Eeduced by this time to a thoroughly obedient slave, and satisfied that no mischief was likely to be intended by men who had treated him so well, Lancey walked through the crowded streets and bazaars of Con- A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 139 stantinople as one in a dream, mucli more than half-convinced that he had got somehow into an " Arabian Night," the " entertainments " of which seemed much more real than those by which his imagination had been charmed in days of old. Coming into a part'of the city that appeared to be suburban, his keeper stopped before a building that seemed a cross between a barrack and a bird-cage. It was almost surrounded by a wall so high that it hid the building from view, except directly in front. There it could be seen, with its small hermetically-closed windows, each covered with a wooden trellis. It bore the aspect of a somewhat forbidding prison. "Konak — palace," said the keeper, breaking silence for the first time. "A konak; a palace! eh?" repeated Lancey, in surprise ; " more like a jail, /should say. 'Owever, customs differ. Oos palace may it be, now ? '* " Pasha ; Sanda Pasha," replied the man, touching a spring or bell in the wall ; " you goes in." As he spoke, a small door was opened by an armed black slave, to whom he whispered a few words, and tlien, stepping back, motioned to his companion to enter. " Arter you, sir," said Lancey, with a polite bow. But as tlie man continued gravely to point, and the black slave to hold the door open, he foi'borc to 140 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS press the matter, and stepped in. The gate was shut with a bang, followed by a click of bolts. He found, on looking round, that the keeper had been shut out, and he was alone with the armed negro. " You 're in for it now, Jacob my boy," muttered Lancey to himself, as he measured the negro with a sharp glance, and slowly turned up the wristbands of his shirt with a view to prompt action. But the sable porter, far from meditating an assault, smiled graciously as he led the way to the principal door of the palace, or, as the poor fellow felt sure it must be, the prison. A TA.LE OF MODERN WAR. 141 CHAPTER X. INTOLVES LANCET IN GREAT PERPLEXITIES, WHICH CULMINATE IN A VAST SURPRISE. No sooner did the dark and unpretending door of Sanda Pasha's konak or palace open than Lancey's eyes were dazzled by the blaze of light and splendour within, and when he had entered, accus- tomed though he was to " good society " in England, he was struck dumb with astonishment. Perhaps the powerful contrast between the outside and the interior of this Eastern abode had something to do with the influence on his mind. Unbridled luxury met his eyes in whatever direction he turned. There was a double staircase of marble ; a court paved with mosaic-work of brilliant little stones ; splendid rooms, the walls of which wera covered with velvet paper of rich pattern and colour. Gilding glittered everywhere — on cornices, furniture, and ceilings, from which the eyes turned with double zest to the soft light of marble sculpture judiciously disposed on staircase and in chambers. There were soft sofas that 142 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOrS appeared to emLrace you as you sank into them ; pictures that charmed the senses; here a bath of snow-white marble, there gushing fountains and jets of limpid water that appeared to play hide-and- seek among green leaves and lovely flowers, and disappeared mysteriously, — in short, everything tasteful and beautiful that man could desire. Of course Lancey did not take all this in at once. Neither did he realise the fact that the numerous soft-moving and picturesque attendants, black and white, whom he saw, were a mere portion of an army of servants, numbering upwards of a thousand souls, whom this Pasha retained. These did not include the members of his harem. He had upwards of a hundred cooks and two hundred grooms and coachmen. This household, it is said, consumed, among other things, nearly 7000 lbs. of vegetables a day, and in winter there were 900 fires kindled throughout the establishment.* But of all this, and a great deal more, Lancey had but a faint glimmering as he was led through the various conidors and rooms towards a central part of the building. Here he was shown into a small but comfortable apartment, very Eastern in its character, with a mother-of-pearl table in one corner bearing some * A similar establishmeTit to this -was, not long ago, described by the " correspondeut " of a well-known jonnial. A TALE OF MODERN WAK. 143 slight refreshment, and a low conch at the further end. " Eat," said the Wack slave who conducted him. lie spoke in English, and pointed to the table ; — " an' sleep," he added, pointing to the couch. " Sanda Pasha sees you de morrow." With that he left Lancey staring in a bewildered manner at the door through which he had passed. " Sanda Pasha," repeated the puzzled man slowly, " will see me ' de morrow,' will he ? Well, if ' de morrow ' ever comes, w'ich I doubt, Sanda Pasha will find 'e 'as made a most hegragious mistake of some sort. 'Owever that 's 'is business, not mine." Having comforted himself with this final reflec- tion on the culminating event of the day, he sat down to the mother-of-pearl table and did full justice to the Pasha's hospitality by consuming the greater part of the viands thereon, consisting largely of fruits, and drinking the wine with critical satisfaction. Next morning he was awakened by his black friend of the previous night, who spread on the mother-of-pearl table a breakfast which in its elegance appeared to be light, but which on close examination turned out, like many light things in this world, to be sufficiently substantial for an ordinary man. Lancey now expected to be introduced to the* 144 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS Pasha, but he was mistaken. No one came near him again till the afternoon, when the black slave reappeared with a substantial dinner. The Pasha was busy, he said, and would see him in the evening. The time might have hung heavily on the poor man's hands, but, close to the apartment in which he was confined there was a small marble court, open to the sky, in which were richly- scented flowers and rare plants and fountains which leaped or trickled into tanks filled with gold-fish. In the midst of these things he sat or sauntered dreamily until the shades of evening fell. Then the black slave returned and beckoned him to follow. He did so and was ushered into a delicious little boudoir, whose windows, not larger than a fool square, were filled with pink, blue, and yellow glass. Here, the door being softly shut behind him, Lancey found himself in the presence of the red-bearded officer whom he had met on board the Turkish monitor. Ptedbeard, as Lancey called him, mentally, re- clined on a couch and smoked a chibouk. " Com here," he said gravely, in broken English. Lancey advanced into the middle of the apartment. "It vas you what blew'd up de monitor," he said sternly, sending a thick cloud of smoke from his lips. A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 115 "No, your — ." Lancey paused. lie knew not how to address his questioner, but, feeling that some term of respect was necessary, he coined a word for the occasion — " No, your Pashaship, I did nothink of the sort. I'm as hinnocent of that ewent as a new-born babe." " Yat is your name ?" "Lancey." " Ha ! your oder name V' "Jacob." " Ho ! i/y name is Sanda Pasha. You have hear of me before ?" " Yes, on board the Turkish monitor." " Just so ; but before zat, I mean," said the Pasha, with a keen glance. Lancey was a bold and an honest man. He would not condescend to prevaricate. " I 'm wery sorry, your — your Pashaship, but, to tell the plain truth, I never did 'ear of you before that." " Well, zat matters not'ing. I do go now to sup vid von friend, Hamed Pasha he is called. You go vid me. Go, get ready." Poor Lancey opened his eyes in amazement, and began to stammer something about having nothing to get ready with, and a mistake being made, but the Pasha cut him short with another " Go '"'^ so imperative tliat he was fain to obey promptly. K 146 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS Having no change of raiment, the perplexed man did his best by washing his face and hands, and giving his hair and clothes an extra brush, to make himself more fit for refined society. On being called to rejoin the Pasha, he began to apologise for the style of his dress, but the peremptory despot cut him short by leading the way to his carriage, in which they were driven to the konak or palace of Hamed Pasha. They were shown into a richly-furnished apart- ment where Hamed was seated on a divan, with several friends, smoking and sipping brandy and water, for many of these eminent followers of the Prophet pay about as little regard to the Prophet's rules as they do to the laws of European society. Hamed rose to receive his brother Pasha, and Lancey was amazed to find that he was a Nubian, with thick lips, flat nose, and a visage as black as coal. He was also of gigantic frame, insomuch that he dwarfed the rest of the company, including Lancey himself. Hamed had raised himself from a low rank in society to his present high position by dint of military ability, great physical strength, superior intelligence, reckless courage, and overflowing animal spirits. When Sanda Pasha entered he was rolling his huge muscular frame on the divan, A TALE OF MODEKN WAR. 147 and almost weeping with laughter at something that had been whispered in his ear by a dervish wlio sat beside liim. Sanda introduced Lancey as an Englishman, on hearing which the black Pasha seized and wrung his hands, amid roars of delight, and torrents of remarks in Turkish, while he slapped him heartily on the shoulder. Then, to the amazement of Lancey, he seized him by the collar of his coat, unbuttoned it, and began to pull it off. This act was speedily explained by the entrance of an attendant with a pale blue loose dressing-gown lined with fur, which the Pasha made his English guest put on, and sit down beside him. Having now thoroughly resigned himself to the guidance of what his Turkish friends styled " fate," Lancey did his best to make himself agree- able, and gave himself up to the enjoyment of the hour. There were present in the room, besides those already mentioned, a Turkish colonel of cavalry and a German doctor who spoke Turkish fluently. The party sat down to supper on cushions round a very low table. The dervish, Iladji Abderhaman, turned out to be a gourmand, as well as a witty I'ullow and a buffoon. The Pasha always gave the signal to begin to each dish, and between courses the dervish told stories from the Arabian Nights' H8 IN THE TRACK OF THE TKOOrS Entertainments, or uttered witticisms which kept the Nubian Pasha in roars of laughter. They were all very merry, for the host was fond of boisterous fun and practical jokes, while his guests were sympathetic. Lancey laughed as much as any of them, for although he could not, despite his previous studies, follow tlie conversation, he could understand the pantomime, and appreciated the viands highly. His red-bearded friend also came to his aid now and then with a few explanatory remarks in broken English. At such times the host sat with a beaming smile on his black face, and his huge mouth half- ex- panded, looking from one to another, as if attempting to understand, and ready at a moment's notice to explode in laughter, or admiration, or enthusiasm, according to circumstances. " Hamed Pasha wants to know if you is in de army," said Sanda Pasha. " Not in the regulars," replied Lancey, " but I 'ave bin in the militia." The Nubian gave another roar of delight when this was translated, and extended his great hand to one whom he thenceforth regarded as a brother-in-arms. Lancey grasped and shook it warmly. " Let the Englishman see your sword," said Sanda in Turkish to Hamed. A TALE OF MODEKN WAR. 149 Sanda knew his friend's weak point. The sword was at once ordered in for inspection. Truly it was a formidable weapon, which might have suited the fist of Goliath, and was well fitted for the brawny arm that had waved it aloft many a time in the smoke and din of battle. It was blunt and hacked on both edges with frequent use, but its owner would not have it sharpened on any account, asserting that a stout arm did not require a keen weapon. While the attention of the company was taken up with this instrument of death, the dervish availed himself of the opportunity to secure the remains of a dish of rich cream, to which he had already applied himself more than once. The Nubian observed the sly and somewhat greedy act with a twinkling eye. When the der- vish had drained the dish, the host filled a glass full to the brim with vinegar, and, with fierce joviality, bade him drink it. The poor man hesitated, and said something about wine and a mistake, but the Pasha repeated "Drink!" with such a roar, and tlirew his sword down at the same time with such a clang on the marble floor, that the dervish swallowed the draught with almost choking celerity. The result was immediately obvious on his visage ; nevertheless he bore up bravely, and even cut a sorry joke at his own expense, while the black giant 150 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS rolled on his divan, and the tears ran down his swarthy cheeks. The dervish was an adventurer who had wan- dered about the country as an idle vagabond until the war broke out, when he took to army- contract- ing with considerable success. It was in his capacity of contractor that he became acquainted with the boisterous black Pasha, who greatly ap- preciated his low but ready wit and delighted in tormenting him. On discoverinsj that the dervish was a voracious eater, he pressed — I might say forced — him with savage hospitality to eat largely of every dish, so that, when pipes were brought after supper, the poor dervish was more than satisfied. " Now, you are in a fit condition to sing," cried Hamed, slapping the over-fed man on the shoulder ; " come, give us a song : the Englishman would like to hear one of your Arabian melodies." Eedbeard translated this to Lancey, who pro- tested that "nothink would afford 'im greater delight." The dervish was not easily overcome. Despite his condition, he sang, well and heartily, a ditty in Arabic, about love and war, which the Nubian Pasha translated into Turkish for the benefit of the German doctor, and Sanda Pasha rendered into broken English for Lancey. A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 151 But the great event of the evening came, when the English guest, in obedience to a call, if not a command, from his host, sang an English ballad. Lancey had a sweet and tuneful voice, and was prone to indulge in slow pathetic melodies. The black Pasha turned out to be intensely fond of music, and its effect on his emotional spirit was very powerful. At the first bar of his guest's flow- ing melody his boisterous humour vanished ; his mouth and eyes partly opened with a look of pleased surprise ; he evidently forgot himself and his com- pany, and when, although unintelligible to him, the song proceeded in more touching strains, his capa- cious chest began to heave and his eyes filled with tears. The applause, not only of the host, but the company, was loud and emphatic, and Lancey was constrained to sing again. After that the colonel sang a Turkish war-song. The colonel's voice was a tremendous bass, and he sang with such en- thusiasm that the hearers were effectively stirred. Hamed, in particular, became wild with excitement. He half- suited his motions, while beating time, to the action of each verse, and when, as a climax in the last verse, the colonel gave the order to " charge ! " Hamed uttered a roar, sprang up, seized his great sabre, and caused it to whistle over his friends with a sweep that might have severed the head of an elephant ! 152 IN THE TKACK OF THE TROOPS At this point, one of the attendants, who appeared to be newly appointed to his duties, and had more than once during the feast attracted attention by his stupidity, shrank in some alarm from the side of his wild master and tumbled over a cushion. Hamed glared at him for a moment, with a frown that was obviously not put on, and half-raised the sabre as if about to cut him down. Instantly the frown changed to a look of contempt, and almost as quickly was replaced by a gleam of fun. " Stand forth," said Hamed, dropping the sabre and sitting down. The man obeyed with prompt anxiety. " Your name ? "^ '' Mustapha." " Mustapha," repeated the Pasha, " I observe that you are a capable young fellow. You are a man of weight, as the marble floor can testify. I appoint you to the of&ce of head steward. Go, stand up by the door.*' The man made a low obeisance and went. " Let the household servants and slaves pass before their new superior and do him honour." With promptitude, and with a gravity that was intensely ludicrous — for none dared to smile in the presence of Hamed Pasha — the servants of the establishment, having been summoned, filed before the new steward and bowed to him. This ceremony A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 153 over, Mustaplia was ordered to go and make a list of the poultry. The poor man was here obliged to confess that he could not write. " You can draw ?" demanded the Pasha fiercely. With some hesitation the steward admitted that he could — '' a little." *' Go then, draw the poultry, every cock and hen and chicken," said the Pasha, with a wave of his hand which dismissed the household servants and sent the luckless steward to his task. After this pipes were refilled, fresh stories were told, and more songs were sung. After a consider- able time Mustapha returned with a large sheet of paper covered with hieroglyphics. The man looked timid as he approached and presented it to his master. The Pasha seized the sheet. ''What have we here?" he demanded sternly. The man said it was portraits of the cocks and hens. " Ha !" exclaimed the Pasha, " a portrait- gallery of poultry — eh!" He held tlie sheet at arm's-length, and regarded it with a fierce frown ; but his lips twitched, and suddenly relaxed into a broad grin, causing a tre- mendous display of white teeth and red gums. " Poultry ! ha ! just so. What is this ?" He pointed to an object with a curling tail, whiili Mustapha assured liim was a cock. 154 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS " What 1 a cock ? where is the comb ? Who ever heard of a cock without a comb, eh ? And that, what is that ?" Mustapha ventured to assert that it was a chicken. "A chicken," cried the Pasha fiercely; "more like a dromedary. You rascal ! did you not say tliat you could draw ? Go ! deceiver, you are de- posed. Have him out and set him to cleanse the hen- house, and woe betide you if it is not as clean as your own conscience before to-morrow morning — away !" The Pasha shouted the last word, and then fell back in fits of laughter; while the terrified man fled to the hen-house, and drove its occupants frantic in his wild attempts to cleanse their Augean stable. It was not until midnight that Sanda Pasha and Lancey, taking leave of Hamed and his guests, returned home. " Come, follow me," said the Pasha, on entering the palace. He led Lancey to the room in which they had firs't met, and, seating himself on a divan, lighted his chibouk. " Sit down," he said, pointing to a cushion that lay near him on the marble floor. Lancey, although unaccustomed to such a low seat, obeyed. " Smoke," said the Pasha, handing a cigarette to liis guest. A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 155 Lancey took the cigarette, but at this point his honest soul recoiled from the part he seemed to be playing. He rose, and, laying the cigarette respect- fully on the ground, said — "Sanda Pasha, it's not for the likes o* me to be sittin' 'ere smokin' with the likes o' you, sir. There's some mistake 'ere, hobviously. I've been treated with the consideration doo to a prince since I fell into the 'ands of the Turks, and it is right that I should at once correct this mistake, w'ich I'd 'ave done long ago if I could 'ave got the Turks who've 'ad charge of me to understand Hinglish. I'm bound to tell you, sir, that I'm on'y a groom in a Hinglish family, and makes no pretence to be hanythink else, though circumstances 'as putt me in a false position since I come 'ere. I 'ope your Pashaship won't think me ungracious, sir, but I can't a-bear to sail under false colours." To this speech Sanda Pasha listened with pro- found gravity, and puffed an enormous cloud from his lips at its conclusion. " Sit down," he said sternly. Lancey obeyed. " Light your cigarette." There was a tone of authority in the Pasha's voice which Lancey did not dare to resist. He lighted the cigarette. "Look me in the fLico," said tlie Pasha sud- 15G IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS denly, turning his piercing grey eyes full on Lis guest. Supposing that this was a prelude to an expression of doubt as to his honesty, Lancey did look the Pasha full in the face, and returned his stare with interest. "Do you see this cut over the bridge of my nose?" demanded the Pasha. Lancey saw it, and admitted that it must have been a bad one. " xind do you see the light that is blazing in these two eyes ?" he added, pointing to his own glowing orbs with a touch of excitement. Lancey admitted that he saw the light, and be- gan to suspect that the Pasha was mad. At the same time he was struck by the sudden and very great improvement in his friend's English. " But for you" continued the Pasha, partly rais- ing himself, " that cut had never been, and the light of those eyes would now be quenched in death ! " The Pasha looked at his guest more fixedly than ever, and Lancey, now feeling convinced of his entertainer's madness, began to think uneasily of the best way to humour him. " Twenty years ago," continued the Pasha slowly, and with a touch of pathos in his tone, "I received this cut from a boy in a fight at school" (Lancey thought that the boy must have been a bold fellow), " and only the other day I was rescued by a man from the A TALE OF MODERN WAK. 157 waters of the Danube." (Lancey thought that, on the whole, it ^Yould have been well if the man had left him to drown.) " The name of the boy and the name of the man was the same. It was Jacob Lancey !" Lancey's eyes opened and his lower jaw dropped. He sat on his cushion aghast. " Jacob Lancey," continued the Pasha in a familiar tone that sent a thrill to the heart of his visitor, *' hae ye forgotten your auld Scotch freen' and school-mate Sandy ? In Sanda Pasha you behold Sandy Black!" Lancey sprang to his knees — the low couch rendering that attitude natural — grasped the Pasha's extended hand, and gazed wistfully into his eyes. '' Oh Sandy, Sandy 1 " he said, in a voice of forced calmess, while he shook his head reproach- fully, " many and many a time 'ave I prophesied that you would become a great man, but little did I think that you 'd come to this — a May'omedan and a Turk." Unable to say more, Lancey sat down on his cushion, clasped his hands over his knees, and gazed fixedly at his old friend and former idol. *' Lancey, my boy — it is quite refreshing to use these old familiar words again, — I am no more a Mohammedan than you are." "Then you're a 'ypocritc," replied the otlier promptly. 158 IN THE TEACK OF THE TKOOPS " By no means, — at least I hope not," said the Pasha, with a smile and a slightly troubled look. " Surely there is a wide space between a thoroughly honest man and an out-and-out hypocrite. I came here with no religion at all. They took me by the hand and treated me kindly. Knowing nothing, I took to anything they chose to teach me. What could a youth do ? Now I am what I am, and I cannot change it." Lancey knew not what to reply to this. Laying his hand on the rich sleeve of the Pasha he began in the old tone and in the fulness of his heart. " Sandy, my old friend, as I used to all but worship, nominal May'omedan though you be, it 's right glad I am to — " words failed him here. " Well, well," said the Pasha, smiling, and drawing a great cloud from his chibouk, " I 'm as glad as 3^ourself, and not the less so that I Ve been able to do you some small service in the way of preventing your neck froni being stretched ; and that brings me to the chief point for which I have brought you to my palace, naiiiely, to talk about matters which concern yourself, for it is obvious that you cannot remain in this country in time of war with safety unless you have some fixed position. Tell me, now, where you have been and what doing since we last met in Scotland, and I will tell you what can be done for you in Turkey." A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 159 Hereupon Lancey began a long-winded and par- ticular account of his life during the last twenty years. The Pasha smoked and listened with grave interest. When the recital was finished he rose. "!N"ow, Lancey," said he, "it is time that you and I were asleep. In the morning I have business to attend to. When it is done we will continue our talk. Meanwhile let me say that I see many little ways in which you can serve the Turks, if you are so minded." " Sandy Black," said Lancey, rising with a look of dignity, " you are very kind — just what I would 'ave expected of you — but you must clearly under- stand that I will serve only in works of 'umanity. In a milingtary capacity I will serve neither the Turks nor the Eoossians." " Quite right, my old friend, I will not ask military service of you, so good-night. By the way, it may be as well to remind you that, except between ourselves, I am not Sandy Black but Sanda Pasha, — you understand ? " With an arch smile the Pasha laid down liis chibouk and left the room, and the black attendant conducted Lancey to his bedroom. The same attendant took him, the following morning after breakfast, to the Pasha's " Selamlik" or " Place of Salutations," in order that he might see how business matters were transacted in Turkey. 160 IN THE TKACK OF THE TROOPS The Selamlik was a large handsome room filled with men, both with and without turbans, who had come either to solicit a favour or a post, or to press on some private business. On the entrance of the Pasha every one rose. When he was seated, there began a curious scene of bowing to the ground and touching, by each person present, of the mouth and head with the hand. This lasted full five minutes. Sanda Pasha then received a number of busi- ness papers from an officer of the household, to which he applied himself with great apparent earnestness, paying no attention whatever to his visitors. Lancey observed, however, that his absorbed condition did not prevent a few of these visitors, apparently of superior rank, from approaching and whispering in his ear. To some of them he was gracious, to others cool, as they severally stated the nature of their business. No one else dared to approach until the reading of the papers was finished. Suddenly the Pasha appeared to get weary of his papers. He tossed them aside, ordered his carriage, rose hastily, and left the room. But this uncour- teous behaviour did not appear to disconcert those who awaited his pleasure. Probably, like eels, they had got used to rough treatment. Some of them ran after the Pasha and tried to urge their suits in a few rapid sentences, others went off with a sigh or A TALE OF MODERN AVAR. 1 6 1 a growl, resolving to repeat the visit another day, while Sancla himself was whirled along at full speed to the Suhlime Porte, to hold council wdth the Ministers of State on the arrangements for the war that had by that time begun to rage along the whole line of the Lower Danube — the Eussians having effected a crossing in several places. j After enjoying himself for several days in the palace of his old school-mate, my w^orthy servant, being resolved not to quit the country until he had done his utmost to discover whether I was alive or drowned, accepted the offer of a situation as cook to one of the Turkish Ambulance Corps. Having received a suitable change of garments, with a private pass, and recommendations from the Paslia, he was despatched w4th a large body of recruits and supplies to the front. W: ■^ I K ~-^ '■~\ 162 IN THE TKACK OF THE TROOPS CHAPTER XL REFERS TO TWO IMPORTANT LETTERS, AKD A SECRET MISSION. It is a curious coincidence that, about the very time when my servant was appointed to serve in the Turkish Ambulance Corps, I received permis- sion to act as a surgeon in the Russian army. Through the influence of Nicholas Naranovitsch, I was attached to his own regiment, and thus enjoyed the pleasure of his society for a considerable time after the breaking out of the war. I preferred this course to that of returriing home, because, first, I could not bear the thought of leav- ing the country without making every possible exertion to ascertain the fate of my yacht's crew, and rendering them succour if possible ; and, secondly, because I felt an irresistible desire to alleviate, professionally, the sufferings of those who were certain to be wounded during the war. I also experienced much curiosity to know something more oi the power and influence of modern war- A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 163 engines. Perhaps some people will think this latter an unworthy motive. It may have been so ; I cannot tell. All I can say is that it was a very secondary one, and would not, of itself, have been sufficient to induce me to remain for an hour to witness the horrors and carnage of battle-fields. Still, putting the various motives together, I felt justified in remaining. In order that I might render still more effective service to the cause of humanity, I wrote, imme- diately after my appointment as surgeon, to an intimate friend, north of the Tweed, offering my services as war correspondent to a paper of which he was editor, namely, the Scottish Baiolce. That celebrated journal, — well known on the east, west, and north coasts of Scotland, and extensively circulated in the centre and south of the country, including England, — is liberal in its principles, conservative in reference only to things tliat are good, and violently radical when treating of those that are bad. It enjoys the credit of being curt in its statements, brief in the expres- sion of its opinions, perfectly silent in reference to its surmises, distinctly repudiative of the gift of prophecy, consistently averse to the attribution of motives, persistently wise in giving tlie shortest possible account of murders and scandalous cases, and copious in its references to literature, art, and 164 IN THE TEACK OF THE TKOOPS religious progress, besides being extremely metho- dical in its arrangement. In regard to the latter quality, I cannot refrain from referring to its sensible mode of treating births, marriages, and deaths, by putting the Christian and surname of the born, married, or defunct as the first words in each announcement, so that one's digestion at breakfast is aided by reading with some comfort of the joys and sorrows of one's friends, instead of having incipient dyspepsia en- gendered by a painful search for the main facts in confusing sentences. The editor's reply came by return of post. It contained the acceptance of my services, and a proposal of extremely liberal terms, allowing me, besides a handsome retaining fee, two horses, and such travelling attendants as might be found neces- sary. There were also certain emphatic stipula- tions which are worth recording. I was not, on any pretext whatever, to attempt the divination, much less the revelation, of the future. I was never, upon any consideration, to be seduced into lengthy descriptions of things that I did not see, or minute particulars about matters which I did not know. I was utterly to ignore, and refuse to be influenced by, personal predilections or prejudices in regard to either combatant. I was to say as little about scenery as was consistent with a correct A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 1G5 delineation of the field of war, and never to venture on sentimental allusions to sunsets, moonlifrhts, or that a newspaper was a vehicle for the distribution water-reflections of any kind. I was not to forget of news, the announcement of facts and the discus- sion thereof, not a medium for the dissemination of fancies and fiddlededee. Above all, I was never to write a column and a half of speculation as to the possible Qjo.^ prolaUe movements of armies; to be followed " in our next " by two columns of the rumoured movements of armies ; to be continued " in our next " by two columns and a half of the actual movements of armies ; to wind up " in our next " with three columns of retrospective considera- tion as to what might, could, would, or should have been the movements of armies ; but that I was, on the contrary, to bear in remembrance the adage about " brevity " being the " soul of wit," and, when I had nothing to write, to write nothing. By so doing, it was added, I should please the editor and charm the public, one of whose minor griefs is, as regards newspapers, that it is brought into a state of disgust with every event of this life long before it has happened, and thoroughly nauseated with it long after it is past, — to say notliing of the resulting mental confusion. In case any gentleman of tlie press should feel injured by these statements, I must remind him 106 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS that I am not responsible for tliem. They are the sentiments of the Scottish Bawbee, which must be taken for what they are worth. It is true, I heartily agree with them, but that is an entirely different subject, on which I do not enter. I readily agreed to fall in with the wishes of the editor, and thenceforward devoted myself, heart and soul, to correspondence and surgery. In both fields of labour I found ample scope for all the powers of body and mind that I possessed. Just about this time I received a letter from my dear mother, who was aware of my plans. It cost me some anxiety, as it was utterly impossible that I should comply with the injunctions it contained. " Jeffry, my dear boy," she wrote, " let me entreat you, with all the solemnity of maternal solicitude, to take care of your health. Let Russians and Turks kill and expose themselves as they please, but ever bear in remembrance that it is your duty to avoid danger. Whatever you do, keep your feet dry and your 1 need not go further into par- ticulars; medical allusions cannot always be couched in language such as one desires. Never sleep on damp ground, nor, if possible, without a roof or a covering of some sort over your head. Even a parasol is better than nothing. If, despite your precautions, you should catch cold, tie a worsted sock — one of the red and black striped ones I last A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 1C7 knitted for you — round your neck, and take one drop of aconite — only one, remember — before going to bed. I know how, with your allopathic notions, you will smile at this advice, but I assure you, as your mother, that it will prove an infallible cure. Never sit in a draught when you can avoid it. If you ever come under fire, which I trust you never may, be sure to get behind a house, or a wall, or a stone, if possible ; if you cannot do so, get behind a soldier, one larger than yourself would be preferable of course, but if you have not the opportunity of doing this, then turn your side to the enemy, because in that position you are a much narrower target, and more likely to escape their bullets. I need not caution you not to run away. I would rather see you, dear boy, in a premature grave, than hear that you had run away. But you could not run away. No Childers ever did so — except from school. " Let the phial of globules which I gave you at parting be your bosom friends, till their friendship is required in another and a lower region. They are a sovereign remedy against rheumatism, catarrh, bronchitis, dyspepsia, lumbago, nervous affections, lieadaches, loss of memory, debility, monomania, melancholia, botherolia, theoretica, and, in short, all the ills that flesh is heir to, if only taken in time." It struck me, as I folded my mother's letter and that of the editor, that there never was a man who 168 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS went into any course of action better guarded and advised than myself. At the moment when this thought occurred to me, my friend JSTicholas burst into my room in a state of unusual excitement. " Come, Jeff," he said, " I 'm detailed for another secret duty. People seem to have inordinate faith in me, for all my duties are secret ! Are you willing to go with me ? " "Go where?" I asked. " That I may not tell," he replied ; " anywhere, or nowhere, or everywhere. All I can say is, that if you go, it will be to act as surgeon to a squadron of cavalry. I see you have letters. Good news from home— eh ? What of BeUa ?" " Yes," I replied, " good news and good advice — listen." I reopened the letters and read them aloud. "Capital!" exclaimed Nicholas, "just the thing for you. No doubt my expedition will furnish a column and a half, if not more, of unquestionable facts for the Scottish Baiudee. Get ready, my boy ; I start in half-an-hour." He swung off in the same hearty, reckless manner with which he had entered ; and I immedi- ately set about packing up my surgical instruments and note-books, and making other preparations for a journey of unknown extent and duration. A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 109 CHAPTER XII. MY FIRST EXPERIENCE OF ACTUAL WAR, AND MY THOUGHTS THEREON. We set out by the light of the moon. Our party consisted of a small force of Russian light cavalry. The officer in command was evidently well ac- quainted with our route, for he rode smartly ahead ^vithout hesitation or sign of uncertainty for several hours. At first Nicholas and I conversed in low tones as we cantered side by side over hill and dale, but as the night advanced we became less communi- cative, and finally dropped into silence. As I looked upon village and liamlet, bathed in the subdued light, resting in quietness and peace, I thought sadly of the evils that war would surely bring upon many an innocent and helpless woman and child. It was invariably in this course that my thoughts about war flowed. I was, indeed, quite alive to the national evils of war, and I will not admit that any man-of-peace feels more sensitively than I do 170 IN THE TEACK OF THE TROOPS the fact that, in war, a nation's best, youngest, and most hopeful blood is spilled, while its longest lives and most ardent spirits are ruthlessly, uselessly sacrificed — its budding youths, its strajDping men, its freshest and most muscular, to say nothing of mental, manhood. Still, while contemplating war and its consequences, I have always been much more powerfully impressed with the frightful conse- quences to women and children, than anything else. To think of our wives, our little ones, our tender maidens, our loving matrons, and our poor helpless babes, being exposed to murder, rapine, torture, and all the numerous and unnanieable horrors of war, for the sake of some false, some fanciful, some utterly ridiculous and contemptible idea, such as the con- nection of one or two provinces of a land with this nation or with that, or the " integrity of a foreign empire," has always filled me with sensations of indignation approaching to madness, not unmingled, I must add, with astonishment. That savages will fight among themselves is self- evident ; that Christian nations shall defend them- selves from the assaults of savages is also obvious ; but that two Christian nations should go to war for anything, on any ground whatever, is to my mind inexplicable and utterly indefensible. Still, they do it. From which circumstance T am forced to conclude that the Christianity as A TALE OF MODERN AVAR. 171 well as the civilisation and common-sense of one or the otlier of such nations is, for the time, in abeyance. Of course I was not perplexed in regard to the Turks. Their relii^ion is not Christian. Moreover, CD / it was propagated by the sword, and teaches coercion in religious matters ; but I could not help feeling that the Eussians were too ready to forsake diplo- macy and take to war. " My dear fellow," said Nicholas, rousing himself, when I stated my difficulty, " don't you see that the vacillating policy of England has driven us to war in spite of ourselves ? She would not join the rest of Europe in compelling Turkey to eff'ect reforms which she — Turkey — had promised to make, so that nothing else was left for us but to go to war." "My dear fellow," I retorted, somewhat hotly, " that Turkey has behaved brutally towards its own subjects is a well-known fact. That she has treated the representatives of all the great powers of Europe with extreme insolence is another well- known fact, but it- is yet to be proved that the efforts of diplomacy were exhausted, and even if they were, it remained for Europe, not for Eussia, to constitute herself the champion of the oppressed." " Jeff, my boy," returned Nicholas, with a smile, ** 1 'm too sleepy to discuss that subject just now, 172 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS further than to say that I don't agree with you." He did indeed look sleepy, and as we had been riding many hours I forbore to trouble him further. By daybreak that morning we drew near to the town of Giurgevo, on the Eoumanian — or, I may say, the Eussian — side of the Danube, and soon afterwards entered it. Considerable excitement was visible among its inhabitants, who, even at that early hour, were moving hurriedly about the streets. Having parted from our escort, Nicholas and I refreshed ourselves at the Hotel de I'Europe, and then went to an hospital, where my companion wished to visit a wounded friend — " one," he said, " who had lately taken part in a dashing though unsuccessful ex- pedition." This visit to Giurgevo was my first introduction to some of the actual miseries of war. The hospital was a clean, well-ventilated buildins^. Eows of low beds were ranged neatly and methodically along the whitewashed walls. These were tenanted by young men in every stage of suffering and exhaustion. With bandaged heads or limbs they sat or reclined or lay, some but slightly wounded and still ruddy with the hue of health on their young cheeks ; some cut and marred in visage and limbs, with pale cheeks and blue lips, that told of the life-])lood A TALE OF M0DI':RN WAR. 173 almost drained. Others were lying flat on their backs, with the soft brown moustache or curly brown hair contrasting terribly with the grey hue of approaching death. In one of the beds we found the friend of Nicholas. He was quite a youth, not badly wounded, and received us with enthusiasm. " My dear Nicholas," he said, in reply to a word of condolence about the failure of the expedition, " you misunderstand the whole matter. Doubtless it did not succeed, but that was no fault of ours, and it was a glorious attempt. Come, I will relate it. Does your friend speak Eussian ?" " He at all events understands it," said I. On this assurance the youth raised his hand to his bandaged brow as if to recall events, and then related the incident, of which the following is the substance. While the Paissians were actively engaged in preparing to cross the Danube at a part Avhere tlie river is full of small islands, the Turks sent moni- tors and gunboats to interrupt the operations. The Russians had no vessels capable of facing the huge ironclads of the enemy. Of tlie ten small boats at the place, eight were engaged in laying torpedoes in the river to protect tlie works, and two were detailed to watcli the enemy. While they were 174 IN THE TllACK OF THE TROOPS all busily at work, the watchers in a boat named the Bchootka heard the sound of an approaching steamer, and soon after descried a Turkish gun- boat steaming up the river. Out went the little Scliootha like a wasp, with a deadly torpedo at the end of her spar. The gun-boat saw and sought to evade her, put on full steam and hugged the Turkish shore, where some hundreds of Circassian riflemen kept up an incessant fire on the Eussian boat. It was hit, and its commander wounded, but the crew and the second in command resolved to carry out the attack. The ScJwotka increased her speed, and to the consternation of the Turks succeeded in touching the gun-boat just behind the paddle-boxes, but the torpedo refused to explode, and the ScJwotka was compelled to haul off and make for shelter under a heavy fire from the gun-boat and the Circassian riflemen, which quite riddled her. While she was making off a second Turkish gun-boat hove in sight. The ScJwotka had still another torpedo on board, one on the Harvey princii)le. This torpedo may be described as a somewhat square and flat case, charged with an explosive compound. When used it is thrown into the sea and runs through the water on its edge, being held in that position by a rope and caused to advance by pulling on it sidew^ise. Anglers will understand this when I state that it works on the principle of A TALE OF MODEEN WAR. 175 the " otter," and, somewhat like the celebrated Irish pig going to market, runs ahead the more it is pulled back by the tail. With this torpedo the daring Eussians resolved to attack the second gun- boat, but when they threw it overboard it would not work ; something had gone wrong with its tail, or with the levers by wdiich, on coming into contact with the enemy, it was to explode. They were compelled therefore to abandon the attempt, and seek shelter from the Turkish fire behind an island. "So then," said I, on quitting the hospital, "torpedoes, although terrible in their action, are not always certain!' "Nothing is always certain," replied Nicholas, with a smile, " except the flight of time, and as the matter on which I have come requires attention I must now leave you for a few hours. Don't forget the name of our hotel. That secure in a man's mind, he may lose himself in any town or city with perfect safety— aw revoir." For some time I walked about the town. The morniniT was bridit and calm, suf^jcjestiucj ideas of peace ; nevertheless my thouglits could not be turned from the contemplation of war, and as I wandered hither and tl^ither, looking out for reminiscences of former w^ars, I tliought of the curiously steady way in whicli human histor}^ repeats itself It seems to take about a (piurLcr of a century to teach men to 176 IN THE TRACK OF THE TKOOPS forget or ignore the lessons of the past and induce them to begin again to fight. Here, in 1829, the Eussians levelled the fortifications which at that time encircled the town ; here, in 1854, the Eussians were defeated by the Turks; and here, in 1877, these same Eussians and Turks were at the same old bloody and useless game — ever learning, yet never coming to a knowledge of the great truth, that, with all their fighting, nothing has been gained and nothing accomplished save a few changes of the men on the chess-board, and the loss of an incalculable amount of life and treasure. As the day advanced it became very sultry. Towards the afternoon I stopped and gazed thought- fully at the placid Danube, which, flowing round the gentle curve of Slobosia, reflected in its glitter- ing waters the white domes and minarets of the opposite town of Eustchuk. A low, rumbling sound startled me just then from a reverie. On looking up I perceived a small puff of smoke roll out in the direction of the Turkish shore. Another and another succeeded, and after each shot a smaller puff of smoke was seen to hang over the Turkish batteries opposite. A strange conflicting rush of feelings came over me, for I had awakened from dreaming of ancient battles to find myself in the actual presence of modern war. The Eussians had opened fire, and A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 177 their shells were bursting among the Turks. These latter were not slow to reply. Soon the rumbling increased to thunder, and I was startled by hearing a tremendous crash not far distant from me, followed by a strange humming sound. The crash was the bursting of a Turkish shell in one of the streets of the town, and the humming sound was the flying about of ragged bits of iron. From the spot on which I stood I could see the havoc it made in the road, while men, women, and children were rushing in all directions out of its way. Two objects lay near the spot, however, which moved, although they did not flee. One was a woman, the other a boy ; both were severely wounded. I hurried through the town in the direction of the Eed-Cross hospital, partly expecting that I might be of service there, and partly in the hope of finding Nicholas. As I went I heard people re- marking excitedly on the fact that the Turks were firing at the hospital. The bombardment became furious, and I felt an uncomfortable disposition to shrink as I heard and saw shot and shell falling everywhere in the streets, piercing the houses, and bursting in them. j\lany of these were speedily reduced to ruins. People hurried from their dwellings into the streets, excited and shouting. Men rushed wildly to M 178 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS places of shelter from the deadly missiles, and soon the cries and wailing of women over the dead and wounded increased the uproar. This was strangely and horribly contrasted with the fiendish laughter of a group of boys, who, as yet unhurt, and scarcely alive to the real nature of what was going on, had taken shelter in an archway, from which they darted out occasionally to pick up the pieces of shells that burst near them. These poor boys, however, were not good judges of shelter-places in such circumstances. Just as I passed, a shell fell and burst in front of the arch- way, and a piece of it went singing so close past my head that I fancied at the first moment it must have hit me. At the same instant the boys uttered an unearthly yell of terror and fled from under the archway, where I saw one of their number rolling on the ground and shrieking in agony. Hastening to his assistance, I found that he had received a severe flesh wound in the thigh. I carried him into a house that seemed pretty well protected from the fire, dressed his wound, and left him in charge of the inmates, who, although terribly frightened, were kind and sympathetic. Proceeding through the marketplace, I observed a little girl crouching in a doorway, her face as pale as if she were dead, her lips perfectly white, and an expression of extreme horror in her eyes. I should A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 179 probably have passed her, for even in tliat short sliarp walk I had already seen so many faces expressing terror that I had ceased to think of stopping, but I observed a stream of blood on her light-coloured dress. Stooping down, I asked — "Are you hurt, dear?" Twice I repeated the question before she ap- peared to understand me; then, raising a pair of large lustrous but tearless eyes to my face, she uttered the single word "Father," and pointed to something that lay in the gloom of the passage beyond her. I entered, lifted the corner of a piece of coarse canvas, and under it saw the form of a man, but there was no countenance. His head had been completely shattered by a shell. Replacing the canvas, I returned to the child. Her right hand was thrust into her bosom, and as she held it there in an unnatural position, I suspected some- thing, and drew it gently out. I was right. It had been struck, and the middle finger was hanging by a piece of skin. A mere touch of my knife was sufficient to sever it. As I bandaged the stump, I tried to console the poor child. She did not appear to care for the pain I unavoidably caused her, but remained quite still, only saying now and then, in a low voice, "Fatlier," as she looked with her tearless eyes at the lieap tliat lay in the pass.nge. 180 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS Giving this hapless little one in charge of a woman who seemed to be an inhabitant of the same building, I hurried away, but had not gone a hundred yards when I chanced to meet Nicholas. " Ha ! well met, my boy !" he exclaimed, evidently in a state of suppressed excitement; "come along. I expected to liave had a long hunt after you, but fortune favours me, and we have not a moment to lose." " Where are you going?" 1 asked. " Just think," he said, seizing my arm and hurry- ing me along, but taking no heed of my question; " we are fairly over the Danube in force ! The niglit before last three thousand men, Cossacks and infantry, crossed from Galatz in boats and rafts, and gained the heights above Matchin. Zoukoff has beaten the enemy everywhere, and Zimmermann is reported to have driven them out of Matchin — in fact we have fairly broken the ice, and all that we have now to do is to go in and win." I saw by the flush on his handsome countenance that the martial ardour of Nicholas was stirred to its depths. There was a noble look of daring in his clear grey eye, and a smile of what seemed like joy on his lips, which I knew well were the expression of such sentiments as love of country, desire to serve like a brave son that Emperor whom he re- garded as a father, hatred of oppression, belief in A TALE OF MODERN WAK. 181 the ricfhteousness of the cause for which he fought, and delight in the prospect of wild animal excite- ment. He was full of high hopes, noble aspirations, superabundant energy, and, although not a deep thinker, could tell better than most men, by looking at it, whether the edge of a grindstone were rough or smooth. We walked smartly to our hotel, but found that our servant had fled, no one knew whither, takinir our horses with him. The landlord, however, sug- gested the railway station, and thither we ran. A train was entering when we arrived. It was full of Fiussian soldiers. On the platform stood a Jew, to whom Nicholas addressed himself. The Jew at first seemed to have difficulty in under- standing him, but he ultimately said that he had seen a man who must be the one we were in search of, and was about to tell us more, when a Turkish shell burst through the roof of the station, and ex- ploded on the platform, part of which it tore up, sending splinters of iron and wood in all directions. The confused noise of shout and yell that followed, together with the smoke, prevented my observing for a moment or two what damage had been done, but soon I ascertained that Nicholas and myself were unhurt ; that the Jew had been slightly wounded, and also several of the people who were waitincr the arrival of the train. r82 IN THE TKACK OF THE TEOOPS The groans of some of the wounded, and the cursing and shouting of the soldiers just arrived, made a powerful impi'ession on me. "Come, I see our fellow," cried Nicholas, seizing me suddenly by the arm and hurrying me away. In a few minutes we had caught our man, mounted our horses, rejoined our cavalry escort, which awaited us in the marketplace, and galloped out of the town. It is a fact worthy of record that of all the people killed and hurt during this bombardment of Giurgevo, not one was a Eussian ! This arose from the fact that the soldiers were under the safe cover of their batteries. The Turkish shells did not pro- duce any real damage to works or men. In short, all that was accomplished in this noisy display of the "art of war" was the destruction of many private houses, the killing and maiming of several civilians, including women and children, and a shameful waste of very expensive ammunition, partly paid for by the sufferers. In contemplating these facts, the word "glory" assumed a very strange and quite a new meaning in my mind. Soon we were beyond the reach of Turkish missiles, though still within sound of the guns. Our pace showed that we were making what I suppose my military friends would style a forced march. Nicholas was evidently unwilling to con- A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 183 verse on the object of our march, but at length gave way a little. " I see no harm," he said, " in telling you that we are about to cross the Danube not far from this, and that at least one of my objects is to secure a trust- worthy intelligent spy. You know — perhaps you don't know — that such men are rare. Of course we can procure any number of men who have pluck enough to offer themselves as spies, for the sake of the high pay, just as we can get any number of men who are willing to jump down a cannon's throat fur the honour and glory of the thing." "Yes," said I, interrupting, "men like our friend Nicholas Xaranovitsch ! " "Well, perhaps," he replied, with a light laugh, " but don't change the subject, Jeff, you 've got a bad tendency to do so. I say there is no difficulty in getting spies ; but it is not easy to find men well qualified for such work. Now one has been heard of at last, and, among other things, I am commis- sioned to secure him for the purpose of leading our troops across the Balkans." " The Balkans ! " said I, in surprise ; " you are a long way from that range." " The length of any way, Jeff, depends not so much upon the way as on the spirit of him who measures it. Ten miles to one man is a hundred miles to another, and vice versa." 184 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS I could make no objection to that, for it was true. "Nevertheless," said I, after a pause, "there may be spirits among the Turks who could render that, which is only a few days' journey in ordinary circumstances, a six months' business to the Eus- sians." ''Admitted heartily," returned Nicholas, w^ith animation ; " if the Turk were not a brave foe, one could not take so much interest in the war." This last remark silenced me for a time. The view-point of my future kinsman was so utterly different from mine that I knew not what to reply, lie evidently thought that a plucky foe, worthy of his steel, was most desirable, while to my mind it appeared obvious that the pluckier the foe the longer and more resolute would be the resistance, and, as a consequence, the greater the amount of bloodshed and of sufferincj to the women, children, and aged, the heavier the drain on the resources of both empires, and of addition to the burdens of generations yet unborn. When, after a considerable time, I put the subject in this light before Nicholas, he laughed heartily, and said — " Why, Jeff, at that rate you would knock all the romance out of war." " That were impossible, Nick," I rejoined quickly, " for there is no romance whatever in war." A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 185 " No romance ! " he exclaimed, opening his eyes to their widest, and raising his black brows to their highest in astonishment. "No," said I firmly, "not a scrap. All the romance connected with war is in spite of it, and by no means the result of it. The heroism displayed in its wildest sallies is true heroism undoubtedly, but it would be none the less heroism if it were exercised in the rescue of men and women from shipwreck or from fire. The romance of the bivouac in the dark woods or on the moonlit plains of foreign lands, with the delights of fresh air and life- giving exercise and thrilling adventure, is not the perquisite of the warrior ; it is the privilege, quite as much, if not more, of the pioneer in the American backwoods and prairies, and of the hunter in the wilds of Africa. The romance of unexpected meet- ings with foreign 'fair ones' in out-o'-the-way circumstances, with broken bones, perhaps, or gun- shot wounds, to lend pathos to the affair, and necessitate nursing, which may lead to love-making, — all that is equally possible to the Alpine climber and the chamois-hunter, to the traveller almost pnywhere who chooses to indulge in reckless sport regardless of his neck. — Of course," I added, with a smile, for I did not wish to appear too cynical in my friend's eyes, "the soldier has a few advantages in which the civilian does not fjuite come up to him, 186 IN THE TRACK OF THE TEOOPS sucli as the glorious brass band, and the red coat, and the glittering lace/' " Jeff," said Nicholas, somewhat gravely, " would you then take all the glory out of war, and reduce soldiers to a set of mere professional and legalised cut- throats, whose duty it is callously to knock over so many thousand men at the command of govern- ments?" '' Bear with me a little," said I, " and hear me out. You misunderstand me. I speak of war, not of warriors. As there is no * romance,' so there is no * glory ' in war. Many a glorious deed may be, and often is, done in connection with war. Such a deed is done when a handful of brave men sacrifice their lives at the call of duty, and in defence of country, as at Thermopylae. Such a deed is done when a wounded Prussian soldier, dying of thirst on the battle-field, forgets the accursed custom — war — which has brought him to that pass, and shares the last drops of his water-flask with a so-called Trench enemy. And such a deed is done, still more gloriously, when a soldier, true to his Queen and country, is true also to his God, and preaches while he practises the principles and gospel of the Prince of Peace, in the presence of those with whom he acts his part in this world's drama. There is indeed much that is glorious in the conduct of many warriors, but there is no glory whatever in war A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 187 itself. The best that can be said of it is, tbat some- times it is a stern yet sad necessity." We dropped the subject here, having reached the point of the river where our party was to cross to the Turkish shore. The passage was soon accomplished by means of rafts, and many thousands of Eussians having already preceded us we experienced no opposition. It was daylight when we rode into a village on the Bulgarian shore, and I looked up sleepily at the cottages as we passed. " We halt here," said Nicholas, with a yawn as he drew rein. The officer in command of our party had already halted his men, who, gladly quitting their saddles, streamed after us into the courtyard of the village iim. 183 IN THE TRACK OF THE TKOOPS CIIAPTEE XIII. SHEWS WHAT SOMETIMES HAPPENS IN THE TRACK OF TROOPS. " Why, Nicholas," I exclaimed, looking round the inn, " I have been here before. It is — it must be — the very place where, on my way up, I saw a famous wrestling-match. Did I ever tell you about it?" " Never ; but come along, I must finish one part of my duty here without delay by paying a visit. You can tell me about the wrestling-match as we walk together." I described the match with great interest, for my heart warmed towards the chief actor and his family, and as I proceeded with the narration I observed with some satisfaction that the road we were following led in the direction of the cottage of Dobri Petroff. As we drew near to the path that diverged to it I resolved, if possible, to give Nicholas, who was evidently interested in my nar- rative, a surprise by confronting him unexpectedly with the blacksmith and his family. A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 189 " Nicholas/' I said, " you see that cottage on the hillside ? I have a great desire to pay its inDiates a visit. Have you any objection to turn aside just for a few minutes ? " Nicholas gave me a look of surprise and laughed. " Xone in the world, Jeff, for it happens that I particularly wish to visit the cottage myself." " You do ? Why— what— " " Well, finish your question, Jeff; why should it seem strange to you that I want to visit a Bulgarian family ? " " Why, because, Xick, this is the cottage of the very blacksmith about wliom I have been speaking, and I wanted to give you a surprise by introducing him to you," •' His name ?" asked Xicholas quickly. " Dobri Petroff." " The very man. How strange ! You have already given me a surprise, Jeff, and will now add a plea- sure and a service by introducing me to him, and, perhaps, by using your powers of suasion. It is no breach of confidence to tell you that part of my business here is to secure the services of this man as a guide over the Balkans, with the passes of which we have been told he is inthnately ac- quainted. But it is said that he is a bold inde- pendent fellow,- who may dislike and refuse the duty." 190 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS " He won't dislike it at all events," said L "He has no love for the Turks, who have treated him shamefully, just because of that same bold and independent spirit." " Well, come, we shall see," rejoined my friend. In a few minutes we had come to a turn in the path which brought the cottage full into view, and I experienced a sudden shock on observing that part of it — that part which had been the forge — was a blackened ruin. I was at the same moment relieved, however, by the sight of Ivanka and little Dobri, who were playing together in front of the uninjured part of the cottage. Next moment the tall handsome form of the blacksmith appeared stooping under the doorway as he came out to receive us. I noticed that there was an expression of trouble on his countenance, mingled with a look of sternness which was not usual to him. He did not recognise me at first, and evidently eyed Nicholas — as a Eussian officer — with no favour. As we drew near, the stern look vanished, and he sprang forward with a glad smile to seize and shake my hand. At the same moment Ivanka's black eyes seemed to blaze with delight, as she ran towards me, and clasped one of my legs. Little Dobri, bereft of speech, stood with legs and arms apart, and mouth and eyes wide open, gazing at me. A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 1 9 1 " All well ? " I asked anxiously. " All well," said the blacksmith ; then, with a glance at the forge — *' except the — ; but that 's not much after all. — Come in, gentlemen, come in." "We entered, and found Marika as neat and thrifty as ever, though with a touch of care about her pretty face which had not been there when I first met her. A few words explained the cause of their trouble. " Sir," said Petroff, addressing me, but evidently speaking at Nicholas, " we unfortunate Bulgarians have hard times of it just now. The Turk has oppressed and robbed and tortured and murdered us in time past, and now the Eussian who has come to deliver us is, it seems to me, completing our ruin. What between the two we poor wretches have come to a miserable pass indeed.'* He turned full on Nicholas, unable to repress a fierce look. "Friend," said Nicholas gently, but firmly, "the chances of war are often hard to bear, but you ought to recognise a great difference between the sufferings which are caused by wilful oppression, and those which are the unavoidable consequences of a state of warfare." "Unavoidable!" retorted the blacksmith bitterly. " Is it not possible for the Eussiiiiis to carry sup- 192 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS plies for their armies, instead of demanding all our cattle for beef and all our harvests for fodder ? " " Do we not pay you for such things ? " asked Nicholas, in the tone of a man who wishes to propitiate his questioner. " Yes, truly, but nothing like the worth of what you take ; besides, of what value are a few gold pieces to me ? My wife and children cannot eat gold, and there is little or nothing left in the land to buy. But that is not the worst. Your Cossacks receive nothing from your Government for rations, and are allowed to forage as they will. Do you suppose that, when in want of anything, they will stop to inquire whether it belongs to a Bulgarian or not ? When the war broke out, and your troops crossed the river, my cattle and grain were bought up whether I would or no by your soldiers. They were paid for — underpaid, I say — but that I cared not for, as they left me one milch- cow and fodder enough to keep her. Immediately after that a band of your lawless and unrationed Cossacks came, killed the cow, and took the forage, without paying for either. After that, the Moldavians, who drive your waggon-supplies for you — a lawless set of brigands when there are no troops near to watch them, — cleaned my house of every scrap that was worth carrying away. What could I do ? To kill a dozen of them would have been easy, but A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 193 that would not have been the way to protect my wife and children." The man laid his great hand tenderly on Ivanka's head, while he was speaking in his deep earnest voice ; and ISTicholas, who was well aware of the truth of his remarks about the Cossacks and the waggon-drivers of the army, expressed such genuine feeling and regret for the sufferings with which the household had been visited, that Petroff was somewhat appeased. " But how came j'our forge to be burned ?" I asked, desiring to change the drift of the conversa- tion. The question called up a look of ferocity on the blacksmith's face, of which I had not believed it capable. " The Turks did it," he hissed, ratlier than said, between his teeth. " The men of this village — men whom I have served for years — men by whom I have been robbed for years, and to whose insults I have quietly and tamely submitted until now, for the sake of these" (he pointed to his wife and children) — " became enraged at the outbreak of the war, and burned my workshop. They would have burned my cottage too, but luckily there is a good partition-wall between it and the shop, which stayed the flames. Ko doul)t they would have despoiled my house, as they have done to others, N 194 IN THE TRACK OF THE TEOOPS but my door and windows were barricaded, and they knew who was inside. They left me ; but that which the Turks spared the Eussians have taken. Still, sir" (he turned again full on Nicholas), " I must say that if your Government is honest in its intentions, it is far from wise in its methods." " You hate the Turks, however, and are willing to serve against them ?" asked Nicholas. The blacksmith shook his shaggy locks as he raised his head. " Ay, I hate them, and as for—** " Oh, husband !'* pleaded Marika, for the first time breaking silenpe, " do not take vengeance into your own hands.'* " Well, as to that," returned Dobri, with a care- less smile, " I have no particular desire for ven- geance ; but the Turks have taken away my livelihood ; I have nothing to do, and may as well fight as anything else. It will at all events enable me to support you and the children. We are starving just now." Nicholas hastened to assure the unfortunate man that his family would be specially cared for if he would undertake to guide the Eussian columns across the Balkan mountains. Taking him aside he then entered into earnest converse with him about the object of his mission. A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 195 Meanwhile I had a long chat with his wife and the little ones, from whom I learned the sad details of the sufferings they had undergone since we last met. " But you won't leave us now, will you V* said little Ivanka pitifully, getting on my knee and nestling on my breast ; " you will stay with father, won't you, and help to take care of us ? I 'm so frightened !" " Which do you fear most, dear ?" said I, smooth- ing her hair — " the Turks or the Cossacks ? " The child seemed puzzled. " I don't know," she said, after a thoughtful pause. " Father says the Turks are far, far worst ; but mother and I fear them both ; they are so fierce — so very fierce. I think they would have killed us if father had been away." Nicholas did not find it hard to persuade the blacksmith. He promised him a tempting reward, but it was evident that his assurance that the wife and family would be placed under the special care of the authorities of the village had much greater effect in causing the man to make up his mind than the prospect of reward. It was further arraniircd that Petroff should o accompany us at once. " Ready," he said, when the proposal was made. " I 've nothing left here to pack up," he added, 193 IN THE TEACK OF THE TKOOPS looking sadly round the poor and empty room. In less than an hour arrangements had been made with the chief man of the village for the comfort anc'i safeguard of the family during the blacksmith's absence. It was bright noontide when we were again pre- pared to take the road. " Oh, Dobri," said Marika, as in an angle of the inn-yard she bade her husband farewell, " don't forget the Saviour — Jesus — our one hope on earth." " God bless you, Marika ; I '11 never forget yov" returned Petroff, straining his young wife to his heart. He had already parted from the children. Next moment he was in the saddle, and soon after was galloping with the troop to which we were attached towards the Balkan mountains. A TALE OF ilODKRN WAll, 107 CHAPTEE XIV. TFLLS MORE OF WHAT OCCASIONALLY HAPPENS IN THE TRACK OF TEOOPS. As we advanced towards the high lands the scenery became more beautiful and picturesque. Pdch fields of grain waved on every side. Pretty towns, villages, and hamlets seemed to me to lie everywhere, smiling in the midst of plenty ; in short, all that the heart of man could desire was there in superabundance, and as one looked on the evi- dences of plenty, one naturally associated it with ihe idea of peace. But as tliat is not all gold which glitters, so the signs of plenty do not necessarily tell of peace. Here and there, as we passed over the land, we had evidences of this in burned homesteads and trampled fields, which had been hurriedly reaped of their golden store as if by the sword rather than the sickle. As we drew near to the front these signs of w^ar became more numerous. We had not much time, however, to take note of 198 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS them ; our special service required hard riding and little rest. One night we encamped on the margin of a wood. It was very dark, for, although the moon was nearly full, thick clouds effectually concealed her, or permitted only a faint ray to escape now and then, like a gleam of hope from the battlements of heaven. I wandered from one fire to another to observe the conduct of the men in bivouac. They were generally light-hearted, being very young and hopeful. Evidently their great desire was to meet with the enemy. Whatever thoughts they might have had of home they did not at that time express them aloud. Some among them, however, were grave and sad ; a few were stern — almost sulky. Such was Dobri Petroff that night. Eound his fire, among others, stood Sergeant Gotsuchakoff and Corporal Shoveloff. " Come, scout," said the corporal, slapping Petroff heartily on the shoulder, " don't be down-hearted, man. That pretty little sweetheart you left behind you will never forsake such a strapping fellow as you ; she will wait till you return crowned with laurels." Petroff was well aware that Corporal Shoveloff, knowing nothing of his private history, had made a mere guess at the " little sweetheart," and having no A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 109 desire to be communicative, met him in his own vein. " It 's not that, corporal," he said, with a serious yet anxious air, which attracted the attention of the surrounding soldiers, " it 's not that which troubles me. I 'm as sure of the pretty little sweetheart as I am that the sun will rise to-morrow ; but there 's my dear old mother that lost a leg last Christmas by the overturning of a sledge, an' my old father who 's been bedridden for the last quarter of a century, and the brindled cow that 's just recovering from the measles. How they are all to get on without me, and nobody left to look after them but an old sister as tall as myself, and in the last stages of a decline — " At this point the scout, as Corporal Shoveloff had dubbed him, was interrupted by a roar of laughter from his comrades, in which the " corporal" joined heartily. " Well, w^ell," said the latter, who w^as not easily quelled either mentally or physically, " I admit that you have good cause for despondency ; never- theless a man like you ought to keep up his spirits — if it were only for the sake of example to young fellows, now, like Andrd Yanovitch there, who seems to have buried all his relatives before start- ing for the wars." The youth on whom Shoveloff tried to turn the laugh of his own discomfiture was a splendid fellow, 200 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS tall and broad-shouldered enough for a man of twenty-five, though his smooth and youthful face suQjojested sixteen. He had been staring at the fire, regardless of what was going on around. " What did you say ? " he cried, starting up and reddening violently. " Come, come, corporal," said Sergeant Gotsucha- kofiP, interposing, " no insinuations. Andre Yano- vitch will be ten times the man you are when he attains to your advanced age. — Off with that kettle, lads ; it must be more than cooked by this time, and there is nothing so bad for digestion as overdone meat." It chanced that night, after the men were rolled in their cloaks, that Dobri Petroff found himself lying close to Andre under the same bush. "You don't sleep," he said, observing that the young soldier moved frequently. " Thinking of home, like me, no doubt ? " " That was all nonsense," said the youth sharply, "about the cow, and your mother and sister, wasn't it?" " Of course it was. Do you think I was going to give a straight answer to a fool like Shoveloff ?" "But you have left a mother behind you, I sup- pose ?" said Andre, in a low voice. " No, lad, no ; my mother died when I was but a child, and has left naught but the memory of an angel on my mind." A TALE OF MODERN WAK, 201 The scout said no more for a time, but the tone of his voice had opened the heart of the young dragoon. After a short silence he ventured to ask a few more questions. The scout replied cheerfully, and, from one thing to another, they went on until, discovering that they were sym- pathetic spirits, they became confidants, and each told to the other his whole history. That of the young dragoon was short and simple, but sad. He had been chosen, he said, for service from a rural district, and sent to the war without reference to the fact that he was the only support of an invalid mother, whose hus- band had died the previous year. He had an elder brother who ought to have filled his place, but who, being given to drink, did not in any way fulfil his duties as a son. There was also, it was true, a young girl, the daughter of a neigh- bour, who had done her best to help and comfort his mother at all times, but without the aid of his strong hand that girl's delicate fingers could not support his mother, despite the willingness of her brave heart, and tlius he had left them hurriedly at the sudden and peremptory call of Government. " That young girl," said Petroff, after listening to the lad's earnest account of tlie matter with syni- pathelic attention, "has no place tlicrc, has sht?" 202 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS — lie touched tlie left breast of Andre's coat and nodded. The blush of the young soldier was visible even in the dim light of the camp-fire as he started up on one elbow, and said — "Well, yes ; she has a place there !" He drew out a small gilt locket as he spoke, and, opening it, displayed a lock of soft auburn hair. "I never spoke to her about it," he continued, in a low tone, " till the night we parted. She is very modest, you must know, and I never dared to speak to her before, but I became desperate that night, and told her all, and she confessed her love for me. Oh, PetrofF, if I could only have had one day more of — of — but the sergeant would not wait. I had to go to the wars. One evening in paradise is but a short time, yet I would not exchange it for all I ever — " He paused. " Yes, yes, / know all about that," said the scout, with an encouraging nod ; " I Ve had more than one evening in that region, and so will you, lad, after the war is over." " I 'm not so sure of that," returned the dragoon sadly ; " however, she gave me this lock of her hair — she is called ' Maria with the auburn hair ' at our place— and mother gave me the locket to put it in. I noticed that she took some grey hair out when she did so." A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 203 " Keep it, lad ; keep it always near your heart," said the scout, with sudden enthusiasm, as the youth replaced and buttoned up his treasure ; " it will save you, mayhap, like a charm, in the hour of temptation." " I don't need that advice," returned the soldier, with a quiet smile, as he once more laid his head on his saddle. Soon the noise in our little camp ceased, and, ere long, every man was asleep except the sentinels. Towards morning one of these observed a man approaching at full speed. As he came near the sentinel threw forward his carbine and challenged. The man stopped and looked about him like a startled hare, then, without reply, turned sharply to the left and dashed ofl'. The sentinel fired. Of course w^e all sprang up, and the fugitive, doubling again to avoid another sentinel, almost leaped into the arms of Andr^ Yanovitch, who held him as if in a vice, until he ceased his struggles, and sank exhausted with a deep groan. On being led to one of the fires in a half- fainting condition, it was found tliat he was covered with blood and wounds. He looked round him at first with an expression of mauiucal terror, but the moment he observed Petroff among his captors he uttered a loud cry, and, springing forward seized liis hand. 201 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS " Why, Lewie," exclaimed the scout, with a gleam of recognition, " what has happened V " The Bashi-Bazouks have been at our village !" cried the man wildly, as he wiped the blood out of his eyes. " Ha ! " exclaimed Dobri, with a fierce look ; " we can succour — " " No, no, no," interrupted the man. with a strange mixture of horror and fury in his blood-streaked face ; " too late ! too late 1 " He raised his head, stammered as if attempting to say more, then, lifting both arms aloft, while the outspread fingers clutched the air, uttered an appalling cry, and fell flat on the ground. " Not too late for revencje ! " muttered the officer commanding the detachment. " Dress his wounds as quickly as may be, Mr. Childers." He gave the necessary orders to get ready. In a few minutes the horses were saddled, and I had done what I could for the wounded man. "You know the village he came from, and the way to it?" asked the commanding of&cer of Petroff. " Yes, sir, I know it well." " Take the man up behind you, then, and lead the way." The troop mounted, and a few minutes later we v/ere galloping over a wide plain, on the eastern A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 205 verge of which the light of the new day was slowly dawning. An hour's ride brought us to the village. V^'e could see the smoke of the still burning cottages as we advanced, and were prepared for a sad spectacle of one of the effects of war ; but what we beheld on entering far surpassed our expectations. Harvests trampled down or burned were bad enough, so were burning cottages, battered-in doors, and smashed windows, but these things were nothing to the sight of dead men and women scattered about the streets. The men were not men of war ; their peasant garbs bespoke them men of peace. Gallantly had they fought, however, in defence of hearth and home, but all in vain. The trained miscreants who had attacked them form a part of the Turkish army, which receives no pay, and is therefore virtually told that, after fighting, their recognised duty is to pillage. But the brutes had done more than this. As we trotted through the little hamlet, which was peopled only by the dead, we observed that most of the men had been more or less mutilated, some in a very horrible manner, and the poor fellow who had escaped said that this had been done while the men were alive. Dismountinf]^, we examined some of the cottacjes, and there beheld sights at the mere recollection of which I shudder. In one I saw women and children 206 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS heaped together, with their limbs cut and garments torn off, while their long hair lay tossed about on the bloody floors. In another, which was on fire, I could see the limbs of corpses that were being roasted, or had already been burnt to cinders. Not one soul in that village was left alive. How many had escaped we could not ascertain, for the wounded man had fallen into such a state of wild horror that he could not be got to understand or answer questions. At one cottage door which we came to he stood with clasped hands gazing at the dead inside, like one petrified. Some one touched him on the shoulder, when we were ready to leave the place, but he merely muttered, " My home ! " As we could do no good there, and were anxious to pursue the fiends who had left such desolation behind them, we again urged the man to come with us, but he refused. On our attempting to use gentle force, he started suddenly, drew a knife from his girdle, and plunging it into his heart, fell dead on his own threshold. It was with a sense of relief, as if we had been delivered from a dark oppressive dungeon, that we galloped out of the village, and followed the tracks of the Bashi-Bazouks, which were luckily visible on the plain. Soon we traced them to a road that led towards the mountainous country. There was no other road there, and as this one had neither fork A TALE OF MOlDERN WAR. 207 nor diverging path, we had no difficulty in following them up. It was night, however, before we came upon further traces of them, — several fires where they had stopped to cook some food. As the sky was clear, we pushed on all that night. Shortly after dawn we reached a sequestered dell. The road being curved at the place, we came on it suddenly, and here, under the bushes, we discovered the lair of the Bashi-Bazouks. They kept no guard, apparently, but the sound of our approach had roused them, for, as we galloped into the dell, some were seen running to catch their horses, others, scarcely awake, were wildly buckling on their s\Yords, while a few were creeping from under the low booths of brushwood they had set up to shelter them. The scene that followed was brief but terrible. Our men, some of whom were lancers, some dragoons, charged them in all directions with yells of execra- tion. Here I saw one wretch thrust through with a lance, doubling backward in his death-agony as he fell ; there, another turned fiercely, and fired his pistol full at the dragoon who charged liim, but missed, and was cleft next moment to tlie chin. In another place a wretched man had dropped on his knees, and, while in a supplicating attitude, was run through the neck by a lancer. But, to say 208 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS truth, little quarter was asked by these Baslii- Bazouks, and none was granted. They fought on foot, fiercely, with spear and pistol and short sword. It seemed to me as if some of my conceptions of hell were being realised : rapid shots ; fire and smoke ; imprecations, shouts, and yells, with looks of fiercest passion and deadly hate; shrieks of mortal pain ; blood spouting in thick fountains from sudden wounds ; men lying in horrible, almost grotesque, contortions, or writhing on the ground in throes of agony. "0 God!" thought I, "and all this is done for the amelioration of the condition of the Christians in Turkey !" *' Ha ! ha-a !" shouted a voice near me, as if in mockery of my thought. It was more like that of a fiend than a man. I turned quickly. It was Andrd Yanovitch, his young and handsu,»nie face distorted with a look of furious triumph as he wiped his bloody sword after killing the last of the Bashi-Bazouks who had failed to escape into the neighbouring woods. " These brutes at least won't have another chance of drawing blood from women and children," he cried, sheathing his sword with a clang, and trotting towards his comrades, who were already mustering at the bottom of the dell, the skirmish being over. The smooth-faced, tender-hearted youth, with the A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 209 lock of auburn hair in his bosom, had fairly begun his education in the art of war. His young heart was bursting and his young blood boiling with the tumultuous emotions caused by a combination of pity and revenge. The scout also galloped past to rejoin our party. I noticed in the meUc that his sword-sweep had been even more terrible and deadly than that of Andrd, but he had done his fearful w^ork in com- parative silence, with knitted brows, compressed lips, and clenched teeth. He was a full-grown man, tlie other a mere boy. Besides, Dobri Petroff had been born and bred in a land of rampant tyranny, and had learned, naturally bold and independent though he was, at all times to hold himself, and all his powers, w^ell in hand. Little did the scout imagine that, while he was thus inflicting well-deserved punishment on the Turkish Bashi-Bazouks, the Cossacks of Eussia had, about the same time, made demands on the men of his own village, w^lio, resisting, w^ere put to tlie sword, and many of them massacred. Strong in the belief that the country which had taken up arms for the deliverance of Bulgaria would be able to fulfil its engagements, and afford secure protection to the inhabitants of Yenilik, and, among them, to his wife and little ones, Dobri Petroff went on his way with a comparatively pasy mind. 210 IN THE TKACK OF THE TROOPS It was evening when we reached another village, where the people had been visited by a body of Eussian irregular horse, who had murdered some of them, and carried off whatever they required. Putting up at the little hostelry of the place, I felt too much fatigued to talk over recent events with Nicholas, and was glad to retire to a small room, where, stretched on a wooden bench, with a greatcoat for a pillow, I soon forgot the sorrows and sufferings of Bulgaria in profound slumber. A TALE OF MODEKN WAR. 211 CHAPTER XV. BISTOVA. NEW VIRWS OF WAR. LANCET GOES TO THE FRONT, AND SEES SERVICE, AND GETS A SCARE. Shortly afterwards our detachment reached the headquarters of General Gourko, who, with that celebrated Eussian general, Skobeleff the younger, was pressing towards the Balkans. Here changes took place which very materially altered my experiences. Nicholas ISTaranovitsch was transferred to the staff of General Skobeleff. Petroff was sent to act tlie part of guide and scout to the division, and I, although anxious to obtain employment at the front, was obliged to content myself with an ap- pointment to the army hospitals at Sistova. As it turned out, this post enabled me to under- stand more of the true nature of war than if I had remained with the army, and, as I afterwards had considerable experience in the field, tlie appoint- ment proved to be advantageous, though at the time I regarded it as a disappointment. When I had been some weeks at Sisiuva I wrui>e 212 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS a letter to my mother, which, as it gives a fair account of the impressions made at the time, I cannot do better than transcribe : — " Dearest Mother, — I have been in the hospitals now for some weeks, and it is not possible for you to conceive, or me to convey, an adequate description of the horrible effects of this most hideous war. My opinions on war — always, as you know, strong — have been greatly strengthened; also modified. Your heart would bleed for the poor wounded men if you saw them. They are sent to us in crowds daily, direct from the battle-fields. An ordinary hospital, with its clean beds, and its sufferers warmly housed and well cared for, with which you are familiar enough, gives no idea of an army hospital in time of war. " The men come in, or are carried in, begrimed with powder, smoke, and dust; with broken limbs and gaping wounds, mortifying and almost unfit for inspection or handling until cleansed by the appli- cation of Lister's carbolic acid spray. Some of these have dragged themselves hither on foot from that awful Shipka Pass— a seven days' journey, — and are in such an abject state of exhaustion that their recovery is usually impossible. Yet some do recover. Some men seem very hard to kill On the other hand, I have seen some men whose holi on life was so feeble as to make it difficult to say A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 213 which of their comparatively slight wounds had caused death. " I am now, alas ! familiar with death and wounds and human agony in every form. Day and night I am engaged in dressing, operating, and tending generally. The same may be said of all connected with the hospital. The doctors under Professor "Wahl are untiring in their work. The Protestant sisters of mercy, chiefly Germans, and the ' Sani- taires,* who take the weary night-watches, are quite worn out, for the number of sick and wounded who pour in on us has far exceeded the computa- tions formed. Everything in this war has been under-estimated. What do you think of this fact — within the last fifty days 15,000 men have been killed, and 40,000 sick and wounded sent to Russian hospitals? This speaks to 55,000 Russian homes plunged into mourning, — to say nothing of similar losses, if not greater, by the Turks, — a heavy price to pay for improving the condition of Bulgaria, — isn't it ? " There is a strong feeling in my mind that this is a war of extermination. ' No quarter ' is too frequently the cry on either side. I do not say that the Russians mean it to be so, but when Bashi-Bazouks torture their prisoners in cold blood, and show fiendish delight in the most diabolical acts of cruelty, even going the length of roasting 214 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS people alive, is it strange that a bmtalising effect is produced on the Russians, and that they retaliate in a somewhat similar spirit at times ? The truth is, mother, that one of the direct and most powerful effects of war is to dehumanise, and check the in- fluence of, the good men engaged, while it affords a splendid opportunity to the vicious and brutal to give the rein to their passions, and work their will with impunity. " But, while this is so with the combatants, many of those outside the ring are stirred to pity and to noble deeds. Witness the self-sacrificing labours of the volunteer heroes and heroines who do their work in an hospital such as this, and the generous deeds evoked from the peoples of other lands, such as the sending of two splendid and completely equipped ambulance trains of twenty-five carriages each, by the Berlin Central Committee of the Inter- national Association for the Eelief of Sick and Wounded Soldiers in the field, the thousands of pounds that have been contributed by the Russians for the comfort of their sick and wounded, and the thousands contributed by England for that fund which embraces in its sympathies both Russian and Turk. It seems to me that a great moral war is going on just now — a war between philanthropy and selfishness ; but I grieve to say that while the former saves its thousands, the latter slays its tens A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 2 1 5 of thousands. Glorious tlion^h the result of our labours is, it is as nothing compared with tlie torrent of evil which has called us out, and the conclusion which has been forced upon me is, that we should — every one of us, man, woman, and child — hold and pertinaciously enforce the precept that war among civilised nations is outrageous and intolerable. Of course we cannot avoid it sometimes. If a man %vill insist on jSghting 7ne, I have no resource left but to fight him ; but for two civilised nations to go to war for the settlement of a dispute is as un- reas(2nable and childish and silly as it would be for two gentlemen, who should differ in opinion, to step into the middle of a peaceful drawing-room, button up their coats, turn up their wristbands, and proceed to batter each other's eyes and noses, regardless of ladies, children, and valuables. War would be a contemptible farce if it were not a tremendous tragedy." My mother's reply to this letter was characteristic and brief " My dear Jeff," she wrote, " in regard to your strictures on war I have only to say that I agree with you, as I have always done on all points, heart and soul. Don't forget to keep your feet dry when sleeping out at nights, and never omit to take the globules." While I was busy at Sistova— too busy with tlic pressing duties of my post to think much 216 IN THE TEACK OF THE TROOPS of absent friends, my poor servant Lancey was going througli a series of experiences still more strange and trying than my own. As I have said, he had been appointed by Sanda Pasha to a post in connection with a Turkish ambu- lance corps. He was on his way to the front, when the detachment with which he travelled met with a reverse which materially affected his fortunes for some time after. There were two Turkish soldiers with whom Lancey was thrown much in contact, and with whom he had become very intimate. There was nothing very particular in the appearance of the two men, except that they formed contrasts, one being tall and thin, the other short and thick. Both were comrades and bosom friends, and both took a strong fancy to their English comrade. Lancey had also taken a fancy to them. It was, in short, the old story of "kindred souls," and, despite the fact that these Turks were to Lancey " furriners " and " unbelievers," while he was to them a "giaour," they felt strong human sym- pathies which drew them powerfully together. The name of the thick little man was Ali Bobo, that of the tall comrade Eskiwin. That these two loved each other intensely, although Turks, was the first thing that touched Lancey's feelings. On discovering that Ali Bobo happened A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 21 7 to have dwelt for a long time with an Englisli merchant in Constantinople, and could speak a little of something that was understood to be English, he became intimate and communicative. Not more tender was the love of David and Jonathan than was that of Eskiwin and All Bobo. As the screw to the nut, so fitted the one to the other. Eskiwin was grave, his friend was funny. Ali Bobo was smart, his comrade was slow. They never clashed. Jacob Lancey, being quiet and sedate, observed the two, admired each, philosophised on both and gained their esteem. Their friendship, alas ! was of short duration. "You's goodish sorro man," said Ali Bobo to Lancey one evening, as they sat over the camp-fire smoking their pipes in concert. Lancey made no reply, but nodded his head as if in approval of the sentiment. "Heskiwin, 'e 's a good un too, hain't *e, Bobo V' asked Lancey, pointing with his thumb to the tall Turk, who sat cross-legged beside him smoking a chibouk. Ali Bobo smiled in the way that a man docs when he thinks a great deal more than he chooses to express. At that moment tlie ofTicer in command of the detachment galloped furicjusly into the cam}) with the information that the Kussians were upon them ! 218 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS Instantly all was uproar, and a scramble to get out of the way. Eskiwin, however, was an excep- tion. He was a man of quiet promptitude. Deli- berately dropping his pipe, he rose and saddled his horse, while his more excitable comrades were struggling hurriedly, and therefore slowly, with the buckles of their harness. Ali Bobo was not less cool, though more active. Lancey chanced to break his stirrup-leather in mounting. " I say, Bobo," he called to his stout little friend, who was near, "lend a 'and, like a good fellow. This brute won't stand still. Give us a leg." The little Turk put his hand on Lancey's instep and hoisted him into the saddle. Next moment the whole party was in full retreat. Not a moment too soon either. A scattering volley from the Eussians, who were coming on in force, quickened their movements. The faint moonlight enabled the Turks to distance their pursuers, and soon the chase appeared to be given up. Still, most of the detachment continued its headlong retreat for a considerable time. Suddenly Eskiwin observed that Ali Bobo swayed from side to side as he rode, and then fell heavily to the ground. He pulled up at once and dis- mounted. Lancey, who saw what had happened, also dismounted. The rest of the detachment was out of sight in a moment. There was no sound of A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 2 1 9 pursuers, and they found themselves left thus in a lonely spot among the liills. On examining the fallen Turk it was found that he had been hit by two balls. One had apparently penetrated his shoulder, the other had grazed his temple. It was the latter which had brought him to the ground, but the shoulder-wound seemed to be the more dangerous. "Dead!" said Lancey solemnly, as he kneeled beside the body. Eskiwin made no answer, his grave countenance expressed nothing but stern decision. His friend's face was colourless, motionless, and growing cold. He raised Bobo's hand and let it drop as he gazed mournfully into his face. Just then the sound of the pursuers was heard, as if searching the neighbouring thicket. Eskiwin rose slowly, and, with his bayonet, began to dig a grave. The soil was soft. A hollow was soon scooped out, and the dead Turk was put therein. But while the two men were engaged in burying it, the Eussians were heard still beating about in the thicket, and apparently drawing near. Lancey felt uneasy. Still Eskiwin moved with slow deliberation. AYhen the grave was covered he kneeled and prayed. "Come, come; you can do that on horselack," said Lancey, with impatience. 220 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS Eskiwin took no notice of the irreverent inter- ruption, but calmly finished his prayer, cast one sorrowful glance on the grave, and remounted his charger. Lancey was about to do the same, being retarded by the broken stirrup-leather, when a tremendous shout caused his horse to swerve, break its bridle, and dash away. At the same moment a band of Don Cossacks came swooping down the gorge. Lancey flung himself flat beneath a mass of under- wood. The Cossacks saw only one horseman, and went past the place with a wild yell. Another moment and Lancey was left alone beside the grave. To find his way out of the thicket was now the poor man's chief care, but this was difficult, for, besides being ignorant of the roacl, he had to con- tend with darkness, the moon having become obscured. It is a well-known fact that when a lost man wanders he does so in a circle. Twice, during that night, did Lancey start with a view to get away from that spot, and twice did he find himself, after two hours' wandering, at the side of Ali Bobo's grave. A third time he set out, and at the end of that effort he not only came back to the same spot, but chanced, inadvertently, to plant his foot over the stomach of the luckless Turk. JACOB LANCE Y PUT TO FLIGHT.— Page 221. A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 221 Tills was too much even fur a dead man. Ali Bobo turned in his shallow grave, scattered the sod, and, sitting up, looked round him with an expres- sion of surprise. At that moment the moon came out as if expressly for the purpose of throwing light on the dusty, blood-stained, and cadaverous visage of the Turk. Jacob Lancey, although a brave man, was super- stitious. On beholding the yellow countenance and glaring eyeballs turned full upon him, he uttered a yell of deadly terror, turned sharp round and fled, stumbling over stumps and stones in his blind 3areer. Tlie Don Cossacks heard the yell, and made for the spot. Lancey saw them coming, doubled, and eluded them. Perceiving only a wounded man sitting on the ground, the foremost Cossack levelled his lance and charged. Ali Bobo's stare of surprise developed into a glare of petrified consternation. When the Cossack drew near enough to perceive an apparently dead man sitting up in his grave, he gave vent to a hideous roar of liorror, turned off at a tangent, and shot away into tlie bushes. Those in rear, supposing that he had come on an ambuscade, followed his example, and, in another moment, Ali Bobo was left alone to his moonlight reflections. That these were of a perplexing nature was evi- dent from his movements. Allowing his eyes to 222 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS resume their ordinary aspect, he looked round him with a troubled expression, while his fingers played slowly with the loose earth that still covered his legs. Then he shook his head, after that he scratched it, and put on his fez, which had fallen off. rinding, apparently, that meditation was of no avail, he finally heaved a deep sigh, rose, shook off the dust, picked up his rifle and marched away. He had not gone far when he came upon Lancey, who, having fled with such haste that he could scarcely breathe, had been fain to lie down and rest for a few minutes. Hearing a step behind him, he started up. One glance sufficed. The dead Turk again ! With another horrific howl he plunged headlong into the nearest thicket and disappeared. A humorous smile stole over the features of Ali Bobo as he began to understand the situation. He searched the thicket, but his late companion was not to be found. Continuing his march, therefore, he travelled all night. Next morning he found his detachment, and introduced himself to his friend Eskiwin, whose astonishment, I need scarcely say, was great, but his joy was greater. Ali Bobo's wounds turned out after all to be slight, and were not permitted by him to interfere long with his service in the field. A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 223 CHAPTEE XVI. LANCEY GETS EMBROILED IN TROUBLES, AND SEES SOME PECULIAR SERVICE. Meanwhile Jacob Lancey, impressed with the belief that the Turkish detachment had taken to the mountains, travelled as rapidly as possible in that direction. Next morning at daybreak he found himself so thoroughly exhausted as to be unable to proceed. With difficulty he climbed a neighbouring emin- ence, which, being clear of bushes, gave him a view of the country around. There was a small village, or hamlet, within a stonethrow of him. The sight revived his drooping spirits. He descended to it at- once, but found no one stirring — not even a dog. Perceiving a small outhouse with its door ajar, he went to it and peeped in. There were a few bundles of straw in a corner. The temptation was irresistible. He entered, flung himself on the straw, and fell sound asleep almost immediately. The sun was sliining high in the heavens wlien be was awakened by a rude shake. He started up 224 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS and found himself in the rough grasp of a Bulgarian peasant. Lancey, although mentally and morally a man of peace, was physically pugnacious. He grappled at once with the Bulgarian, and being, as we have said, a powerful fellow, soon had him on his back with a hand compressing his windpipe, and a knee thrust into his stomach. It would certainly have fared ill with the Bulgarian that day if a villager had not been attracted to the hut by the noise of the scuffle. Seeing how matters stood, he uttered a shout which brought on the scene three more villagers, who at once overwhelmed Lancey, bound him, and led him before the chief man of the place. This chief man was a Turk with a very black beard. Lancey of course expected to receive severe punishment without trial. But, on hearing that he had merely attacked a Bulgarian, the Turk seemed rather inclined to favour the prisoner than other- wise. At all events, after ascertaining that he could not communicate with him by any known language, he sent him to his kitchen to obtain a meal, and afterwards allowed him to depart, to the evident indignation of the Bulgarian and his friends, who did not, however, dare to show their feelings. For some time Lancey wandered about en- A TALE OF MODERN WA R. 225 deavouring to make friends with the people, but without success. As the day advanced, the men, and most of the women, went to work in the fiekls. Feeling that he had not obtained nearly enough of sleep, our wanderer took an opportunity of slipping into another outhouse, where he climbed into an empty loft. There was a small hole in the loft near the floor. As he lay down and pillowed his head on a beam, he found that he could see the greater part of the village through the hole, but this fact had barely reached his brain, when he had again fallen into the heavy slumber of an exhausted man. His next awakening was caused by shouts and cries. He raised himself on one elbow and looked out of his hole. A large body of Eussian soldiers had entered the village, and were welcomed with wild joy by the Bulgarians, while the Turkish inhabitants — those of them wdio had not been able or willing to leave — remained quiet, but polite. The column halted. The men swarmed about the place and " requisitioned," as the phrase goes, whatever they wanted — that is, they took what they chose from the people, whether they were willing or not. To do them justice, they paid for it, though in most cases the payment was too little. There was a good deal of noisy demonstration, and some rough treatment of the inhabitants on p 226 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS the part of those who had come to deliver them, but Beyond being " cleaned out," and an insufficient equivalent left in money, they were not greatly the worse of this visit from the regulars. The loft where Lancey had ensconced himself did not attract attention. He felt, therefore, com- paratively safe, and, while he watched the doings of the soldiery, opened his wallet and made a hearty meal on the debris of his rations. Before he had finished it the trumpets sounded, the troops fell in, and the column left the place. Then occurred a scene which astonished him not a little. No sooner were the troops out of sight than the Bulgarian population, rising en masse, fell upon their Turkish brethren and mal- treated them terribly. They did not, indeed, murder them, but they pillaged and burned some of their houses, and behaved altogether in a wild and savage manner. Lancey could not understand it. Perhaps if he had known that these Bulgarians had, for many years, suffered horrible oppression and contemptuous treatment from the Turks under whose misrule they lay, he might have felt less surprise, though he might not have justified the act of revenge. If it be true that the worm turns on the foot that crushes it, surely it is no matter of wonder that human beings, who have long been debased, defrauded, and demoralised, should turn A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 227 and bite somewhat savagely when opportunity offers ! It had occurred to Lancey, when the Eussians had arrived, that it would be well for him to descend and join these troops, so as to get out of his present predicament ; but, remembering that he had actually accepted service with the Turks, and that, being clothed in a semi-Turkish costume, he might be taken for a spy, he resolved to remain where he w^as. The riot in the village after the Eussian column had left confirmed him in his intention to remain quiet. " Your wdsest plan, Jacob," he soliloquised, " is to 'old on and bide your time. Don't 'urry yourself on any account." Scarcely had he made this resolve when, looking through his hole of observation, he observed a body of spearmen galloping along the road that led to the village. The inhabitants also observed them with some anxiety, for by that time they had come to know the difference between regular and irregular troops. The horsemen proved to be Cossacks. The Bul- garians, of course, regarded them as friends. They formed a portion of the army of deliverers from Turkish misrule. As such they w^ere received with cheers. The cheers w^ere returned heartily — in some cases mingled with laughter — by the gay cavaliers, who had also come to make " requisi- 228 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS tions." Their mode of proceeding, however, was quite different from that of their " regular " brethren. Leaping from their saddles, they set about the busi- ness without delay. Some went to the fields and cut grain for fodder. Others entered the houses and carried off victuals and wine, while many chased and caught pigs and poultry. They were evidently in a hurry. So much so, that they had no time to put off in making pay- ment ! It was obviously to be regarded as an out- standing debt against them by the villagers. As the rear-guard passed out of the place, the corporal in command observed a fat young pig in the middle of a by-road. He turned aside sharply, charged, picked the pig neatly up on the point of his lance, and galloped after his friends, accompanied by a tune that would have done credit to a Scotch bag- pipe. All this did Lancey see from his secret point of observation, and deeply did his philosophic mind moralise on what he saw. The village in which he had sought shelter was in the very heart of the district swept by the wave of war. The panorama of incidents commenced to move again at an early hour. When morning light had just begun to conquer night, Lancey was once more awakened from a re- freshing sleep by a noise in the room below. He A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 229 looked down and saw an old, old woman, with bent form, tottering step, and wrinkled brow. She was searching for something which, evidently, she could not find. Scraping various things, however, and tasting the ends of her thin fingers, suggested that she was in search of food. Lancey was a sym- pathetic soul. The old woman's visage reminded him of his own mother — dead and gone for many a day, but fresh and beautiful as ever in the memory of her son. He descended at once. The old woman had flung herself down in despair in a corner of tlie liovel. Lancey quickly emptied the remnants of food in his wallet into her lap. It would have saddened you, reader, to have seen the way in which that poor old thing hungrily munched a mouthful of the broken victuals without asking questions, though she glanced her gratitude out of a pair of large black eyes, while she tied up the remainder in a kerchief with trembling haste. " No doubt," soliloquised Lancey, as he sat on a stool and watched her, " you were a pretty gal once, an' somebody loved you." It did not occur to Lancey, for his philosophy was not deep, that she might have been loved more than " once," even although she had not been a " pretty gal ; " neither did it occur to him — for he did not know — that she was loved still by an old, 230 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS old man in a neighbouring hut, whose supper liad been carried ofif by the Cossacks, and whose welfare had induced her to go out in search of food. While the two were thus engaged their attention was attracted by a noise outside. Hastening to the door Lancey peeped out and beheld a band of Bashi- Bazouks galloping up the road. The Turks of the village began to hold up their heads again, for they regarded these as friends, but scant was the courtesy they received from them. To dismount and pillage, and to slay where the smallest opposition was offered, seemed the order of the day with these mis- creants. Tor some time none of them came near to the hut where Lancey and the old woman were con- cealed, as it stood in an out-of-the-way corner and escaped notice. While the robbers were busy, a wild cheer, ac- companied by shots and cries, was heard some distance along the road. The Bashi-Bazouks heard it and fled. A few minutes later Lancey saw Turkish soldiers running into the village in scattered groups, but stopping to fire as they ran, like men who fight while they retreat. Immediately after there was a rush of men, and a column of Turkish infantry occupied the village in force. They were evidently hard pressed, for the men ran and acted with that quick nervous energy which denotes im- jninent danger. A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 231 They swarmed into the houses, dashed open the windows, knocked out loop-holes in the walls, and kept up a furious fusilade, while whistling balls came back in reply, and laid many of them low. One party of Turks at last made a rush to the hut where Lancey sat with the old woman. There was no weapon of any sort in the hut, and as Lancey's arms had been taken from him when he was captured, he deemed it the wisest policy to sit still. Leaping m with a rush, the Turks shut and barred the door. They saw Lancey, but had evi- dently no time to waste on him. The window- frame was dashed out with rifle-butts, and quick firing was commenced by some, while others made loop-holes in the mud walls with their bayonets. Bullets came pinging through the window and brought down masses of plaster from the walls. Suddenly a terrible yell rang in the little room, and the commander of the party, raising both hands above him, dropped his sword and fell with a terrible crash. He put a hand to his side and writhed on the floor in agony, while blood flowed copiously from his wound. The poor fellow's pain lasted but a moment or two. His head fell back suddenly, and the face became ashy pale, while his glaring eyeballs were transfixed in death. No notice was taken of this except by a man 232 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS who sat down on the floor beside his dead com- mander, to bandage his own wounded arm. Before lie had finished his task, a shout from his comrades told that danger approached. Immediately the whole party rushed out of the hut by a back door. At the same instant the front door was burst open, and a soldier leaped in. It was evident to Lancey that, in the midst of smoke and turmoil, a mistake had been made, for the man who appeared was not a Russian but a Turk. He was followed by several companions. Casting a savage piercing look on Lancey, and apparently not feeling sure, from his appearance, whether he was friend or foe, the man presented his rifle and fired. The ball grazed Lancey's chest, and entering the forehead of the old woman scat- tered her brains on the wall. For one moment Lancey stood horror-struck, then uttered a roar of rage, rose like a giant in his wrath, and seized a rifle which had been dropped by one of the fugitive soldiers. In an instant the bayonet was deep in the chest of his adversary. Wrenching it out, he swung the rifle round and brought the butt down on the skull of the man behind, which it crushed in like an egg-shell. Staggered by the fury of the onslaught, those in rear shrank back. Lancey charged them, and drove them out pell-mell. Finding the bayonet in his way, he A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 233 wrenched it off, and, clubbing the rifle, laid about him with it as if it had been a walking-cane. There can be no question that insanity bestows temporary and almost supernatural power. Lancey was for the time insane. Every sweep of the rifle stretched a man on the ground. There was a wavering band of Turks around him. The cheers of victorious Eussians were ringing in their ears. Bullets were whizzing, and men were falling. Shelter was urgently needful. Little wonder, then, that one tall sturdy madman should drive a whole company before him. The Eussians saw him as they came on, and cheered encouragingly. He replied with savage laughter and in another moment the Turks were flying before him in all directions. Then Lancey stopped, let the butt of his rifle drop, leaned against the corner of a burning house, and drew his left hand across his brow. Some passing Eussians clapped him on the back and cheered as they ran on to continue the bloody work of ameliorating the condition of the Bulgarian Christians. Nearly tlie whole village was in flames by that time. From tlie windows of every liouse that could yet be held a continuous fire was kept up. The Eussians replied to it from the streets, rushing, in little bands, from point to point, wliere shelter could be found, so as to escape from the witliering 234 IN THE TRA.CK OF THE TROOPS shower of lead. Daring men, with apparently charmed lives, ran straight up in the face of the enemy, sending death in advance of them as they ran. Others, piling brushwood on a cart, pushed the mass before them, for the double purpose of sheltering themselves and of conveying combustibles to the door of the chief house of the town, to which most of the inhabitants, with a company of Turks, had retired. But the brushwood proved a poor defence, for many of those who stooped behind it, as they ran, suddenly collapsed and dropped, as men are wont to do when hit in the brain. Still, a few were left to push the cart forward. Smoke disconcerted the aim of the defenders to some extent, and terror helped to make the firing wild and non-effec- tive. Against the town-house of the village some of the Eussians had already drawn themselves up so ilat and close that the defenders at the windows could not cover them with their rifles. These ran out ever and anon to fire a shot, and returned to reload. Meanwhile the brushwood was applied to the door and set on fire, amid yells of fiendish joy. Lancey had followed the crowd almost mechani- cally. He had no enemy — no object. The Turk, as it happened, was, for the time being, his friend. A TALE OF MODERN WAU. 235 The Muscovite was not, and never had been, his foe. After the first deadly burst of his fury on seeing the innocent old woman massacred had passed, his rage lost all point. But he could not calm his quivering nerves or check the fierce flow of his boiling blood. Onward he went with the shouting, cheering, yelling, and cursing crowd of soldiery, his clothes cut in many places with bullets, though flesh and bone were spared. Close to the town-house stood the dwelling of the Turk who had released him, and shown him hospitality when he was seized by the inhabitants. The door of the house was being burst open by clubbed rifles. The memory of a '' helping hand," liowever slight, was sufficient to give direction to the rage of the madman, for such he still un- doubtedly was at the moment — like many another man who had become sane enough the following day when the muster-roll was called. Up to that moment he had been drifting before the gale. He now seized the helm of his rage, and, upsetting two or three of the men who stood in his way, soon drew near to the front. As lie came forward the door gave way. A tremendous discharge of fire-arms laid low every man in advance ; but of what avail is it to slay hundreds when thousands press on in rear? Lancey sprang over the dead and was met 236 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS by the points of half a dozen bayonets, — the foremost man being his deliverer with the black beard. Grounding his rifle with a crash, and holding up his left hand, he shouted — " A friend !" At the same moment he was thrown down and leaped over by the soldiers behind, who were stabbed by the Turks and fell on him. But Lancey stag- gered again to his feet, and using his superior strength to push aside and crush through those in front, he gained an empty passage before the others did, and rushed along towards a door at the end of it. Opening the door and entering he was arrested by the sight of a beautiful Turkish girl, who stood gazing at him in horror. Before he had time to speak or act, a door at the other end of the room opened, and the Turk with the black beard entered sword in hand. The girl rushed into his arms, with a cry of joy. But this was changed into alarm as tlie Turk flung her off and ran at Lancey. There was no time for explanation. The Eussians were already heard coming along the passage by which he had reached the apartment. Lancey felt intuitively that a brave man would not stab him in the back. Instead of defending himself he dropped his rifle, turned, and hastily shut and bolted the door, then, turnings towards the Turk, held aloft A TALE OF MODEKN WAR. 237 his unarmed hands. The Turk was quick to under- stand. He nodded, and assisted his ally to barricade the door with furniture, so that no one could force a passage for a considerable time. Then they ran to the other door, which had not yet been menaced. They were almost too late, for shouts and tramping feet were heard approaching. Lancey caught up his rifle, stepped out of the room, shut the door, and, locking it on the Turk and his daughter, commenced to pace calmly up and down in front of it like a sentinel. Another moment and the Eussians rushed up, but halted and looked surprised on beholding a sentinel there, who did not even condescend to stop in his slow measured march, or to bring his arms to the charge to stop them. One of them advanced to the door, but Lancey grasped his waist with one hand, gently, almost remonstratively, and shook his head. As the man persisted, Lancey gave him a throw which w^as peculiarly Cornish in its character — he slewed his hip round under the liussian's groin and hurled him back heels over head amongst his comrades, after which feat he resumed the sedate march of a sentinel. By this time he had been recognised as the man who had routed a whole Turkish company, and was greeted witli a laugh and a luud cheer, as the men 238 IN THE TPiACK OF THE TKOOPS turned away and ran to effect some other work of destruction. " Now, my fine fellow," said Lancey, opening the door and entering. "You'll 'ave to defend yourself, for I 'm neither a friend o' the Turk nor the Rooshian. They 're fools, if not worse, both of 'em, in my opinion ; but one good turn desarves another, so now you an' I are quits. Adoo I " Hurrying out of the house, Lancey picked up a Eussian cap and greatcoat as he ran, and put them on, having a vague perception that they might help to prevent his being made prisoner. He was right. At all events, in the confusion of the moment, he passed through the village, and escaped unnoticed into a neighbouring thicket, whence he succeeded in retiring altogether beyond tlie range of the assailed position. A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 239 CHAPTEE XVII. IN WHICH SOME DESPERATE ENTERPRISES ARE UNDERTAKEN. At this time the Eussians had taken up a strong position in the Balkan mountain range, and en- trenched themselves within a short distance of the enemy. After a night and a day of aimless wandering, Jacob Lancey found himself at last in a rocky defile between the hostile lines. How he got there he could not tell, but there he was, in a position of imminent danger, with the sentinels of the belli- gerent armies on either side of him. Evening was setting in when he made this dis- covery, and recoiled, happily without having been seen, into a narrow rocky place where the fast- failing light had already deepened into gloom. A cold white fog was slowly creeping up from the valleys and covering the hill-sides. It is in such places and circumstances that men conceive and execute designs, which, according to 240 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS their nature, are deeds of recklessness or of heroism. Two such ventures were afoot that night. In the Eussian camp preparations were being made for a night attack on a village in possession of the Turks, and out of which, with a view to future movements, it was deemed necessary to drive them. In this village there dwelt a youth, an intimate friend of Dobri Petroff. The two had played with each other in childhood, had roamed about the country together in boyhood, and, when they reached man's estate, had become faster friends than ever, being bound by the ties of intellectual as well as physical sympathy. When this friend, Petko Borronow, left Yenilik at the death of his mother, it was to take charge of the little farm in the Balkan mountains, — the desolate home where his sister Giuana, an invalid, and a beautiful girl, was now left in solitude. In his capacity of scout, Petroff was always in the neighbourhood of headquarters, and was fre- quently summoned to the tent of the general com- manding, to be interrogated. Thus he chanced to overhear occasional remarks and hints which, when pieced together by his intelligent mind, showed him pretty clearly what was pending. He sat by the camp-fire that night, buried in meditation, with a series of troubled wrinkles on a brow that was usually opeu and unclouded. Many A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 241 a time did he light his pipe and forget to smoke it, and reliGjht it, and acjain let it die out, until his comrades were impressed by his absence of mind. Well did the scout know by that time the certain fate of a village which was to be fought for by con- tending armies. To warn his friend Borronow in time to remove his sister from the doomed village became to the scout a duty which must be performed at all hazards, but how to do this without deserting his post, and appearing to go over to the enemy, was the difiiculty. " Something troubles you," said his young friend Andr^ Yanovitch, who had for some time sat smoking quietly at his side, gazing into the fire, and thinking, no doubt, of the girl with the auburn hair, far away in the land of the Muscove. " Yes, I'm troubled about friends," was the scout's laconic answer. " Oh ! they 're all right, you may be sure, nov/ that our fellows have crossed the Danube in sucli force," said Andre, supposing that the other referred to his family. " Perhaps ! " returned Petroff, and relapsed into silence. Suddenly it occurred to him that he had qver- lieard some expression among the officers around the General of a desire to know more particularly about the disposition of the Turkish force, and the Q 242 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS suggestion that a spy should be sent out. His brow cleared at once ; with almost a triumphant look on his countenance, he turned sharply to Andr^, and seized his arm. " Well, Dobri," said the latter, with a smile and look of surprise, " I have had perfect faith in the strength of your grip without requiring positive proof." "Listen," said the scout earnestly. "I have a job to do, and a risk to run." '' That is obvious to every one in the division," returned Andr^, with a touch of the smile still curling his young moustache. "Ay, but I mean a private job, and a great risk — the risk of being shot as a traitor or a spy, and I want you, Andre, to clear my character with the Eussians if it fares ill with me." Petroff's unwonted energy of action and earnest- ness of look and tone produced their effect on the young dragoon. He listened intently while his friend told him of his intended plan. " But why go into the enemy's lines without per- mission?" objected Andre. " Why risk being thought a deserter when you have only to go and ask leave ? It seems to me they would be only too glad to accept your services as a spy." " I 'm not certain that they would accept them," replied the scout, with a retui'n of the perplexed A TALE OF MODERN WAK. 243 look ; " and if they chanced to refuse leave, my case would be hopeless, because I could not and would not dare to act in opposition to positive orders ; whereas, if I go off without leave, I shall only be blamed for undertaking a foolish or reckless act ; that is, if I return in safety. If I don't return at all, it won't matter what is said or done, but I should count on you, Andr^, explaining that I did not desert." "But," returned Andr^, "if you merely go to warn and save your friends, I think the General won't think much of your spying." "You do me injustice, lad," said Petroff quietly. " I shall enter the enemy's lines as a real spy. I will visit every point of his position, ascertain the number of his troops, count his guns, and bring in such information as will make the General wink, I hope, at my having acted without orders. It would please me better to go wdth permission, but I can- not allow the lives of my friends to hang upon the chance humour of a Eussian general. You must remember, Andr^, that I am not a Eussian soldier, and may therefore take upon me to exercise a little more personal liberty than you can. AVhy, you know," continued the scout, with a touch of humour in his glance, as he rose and made some preliminary preparations, *' I might refuse to lead you Eussians, or might lead you to your destruction." . 244 IX THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS " You would be shot if you did," returned the dragoon quietly. " And what if I am willing to be shot in a good cause ? I should be no greater hero than every man in your armies. But now, Andre, one more shake of your hand. We may never meet again, and I won't part without saying I 've taken a fancy to you." " God knows I can truly say the same to you," cried Andre, leaping up with enthusiasm, and seizing the scout's hand with a grasp as power- ful as his own. " And don't be angry," added Petroff, in a gentle tone, as he tightened his belt, " if I again urge you to keep the locket always in remembrance. You 're not likely ever to forget the auburn hair, but you may, lad, you may, for there is no perfection in this world, and soldiering is a dangerous life." Andre smiled half-contemptuously. He felt that the advice was needless. Petroff also smiled kindly, for he knew that it might be needful. Neither of these men was very deeply impressed with the fact that keeping before the mental eye the Maker of the " auburn hair," and of all other blessed human influences, was a better and safer refuge. But what matter ? Does not our Creator in all His dealings make use of means ? Does He not lead us step by step from a lower to a higher A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 245 level ? There are no ready-made human angels in this life, male or female, with full-grown wings to bear them over the troubles of earth to a state of sudden sanctification. "VVe are in a rebel world, and, when lifted from the pit by a Saviour's hand, the steps by which the Spirit of God leads us upwards are numerous as well as varied, including sometimes — I write without irreverence — such foot- holds as " auburn hair." Disguised as a Bulgarian rustic, Dobri Petroff left the Kussian camp, passed the outposts, and, under cover of the fog, gained the neutral ground between the two armies. Of course the sentries on both sides were numer- ous as well as vigilant — especially so on such a night. It therefore behoved him to advance with extreme caution. Creeping from mound to rock, and bush to knoll, he reached a small clump of bushes, into which he entered for the purpose of resting a few minutes and considering well his future movements. A thrill of excitement ran through his frame when he discovered that he was not alone in this thicket. A man sat there leaning against a tree as if asleep. The scout crouched and drew a revolver. A moment sufficed to show that his arrival had not been observed. No wonder, for his approacli had ■ been like that of a cat ! He was now in great 246 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS perplexity. The man was evidently not a sentinel of either belligerent — that was plain, but it was equally plain that he was armed. To shoot him would be impossible without putting the sentries of both sides on the alert. To pass him in so small a thicket, without attracting attention, would be diffi- cult. To draw back would necessitate a long: detour, involving loss of precious time and increase of risk. A thought occurred to him. Many a time had he hunted among these mountains, and well accustomed was he to glide with serpentine caution towards his game. He would stalk him ! Petroff seldom thought twice in cases of emergency. He unbuckled his sword quietly and hung it on a branch, and leant his carbine against a tree, resolv- ing to trust to his great personal strength alone, for he did not mean to sacrifice life if he could avoid it. In case of being driven to extremity, his knife and revolver would suffice. Then, sinking down until he became lost among the deep shadows of bush and brake, he began the slow, laborious, and silent process of gliding towards his unconscious victim. This was one of those ventures to which we have referred as being afoot on that foggy night. The other venture had some points of similarity to it, though the end in view was different. Let us turn aside for a little to the Turkish camp. A TALE OF MODERN WAll. 247 Tliere, round one of the watch-fires, a considerable distance to tlie rear, stood a group of Turkisli soldiers chatting and smoking. Although not so noisy as the Eussians round their camp-fires, these Turks were by no means taciturn. There was a touch, now and then, of dry humour in the remarks of some, and a sedate chuckle occasionally. Among them stood Eskiwin and his resuscitated friend All Bobo. The latter, although not naturally boastful, had been so nettled by a big comrade underrating his courage and muscular power, in regard to which latter he, Bobo, was rather vain, that he vowed he would prove both by going to the front and bringing in, single-handed, a live Eussian sentinel ! The big comrade laughed contemptuously, where- upon Ali Bobo rose to carry out his threat, but was warned by his ;nates of the danger of being shot by his own commander for going on such an errand without leave. Bobo replied that his captain would forgive him when he presented his Eussian prisoner. As it was clear that the angry little man was in earnest, his friend Eskiwin vowed he would go with him, and the big comrade agreed to regard the deed as a sufficient proof of Ali Bobo's strength and prowess if a Eussian should be brought in by the two of them. Bobo would have preferred to go alone, but Eskiwin would take no denial. Accordingly the two adventurous fellows went 248 IN THE TEACK OF THE TROOPS off aud were soon lost in the fog. In a short time they reached the front, and began to move with excessive caution in order to pass their own sentries unobserved. Ali Bobo, it must be remarked, had not originated this idea of stalking sentinels. Some Albanians in the army had already done so with great success ; but these ferocious murderers had done it for the mere pleasure of killing their enemies, without any other end in view. Their method was to creep towards a wearied sentinel, which they did with comparative ease, being expert mountaineers. Each man on reaching his victim sprang on him from be- hind, clapped a hand on his mouth, crushed his neck, after the manner of garrotters, with his strong left arm, and drawiog a long keen knife thrust it into his heart. But our adventurers had no such murderous de- sign as this. To capture a live Kussian was their aim. The front reached, and the Turkish line of sentries safely passed in the fog, they came unexpectedly on two Eussian horsemen who were cautiously riding towards the Turkish lines. These horsemen were Sergeant Gotsuchakofif and Corporal Shoveloff. They had been visiting the outposts, and, before returning, were making a little private reconnaissance of the enemy's disposition, for Gotsuchakoff and A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 249 Shoveloff were enthusiasts in their way, and fond of adventure. The ground at the spot being much broken, and affording facility for concealment, especially to men on foot, Eskiwin and Ali Bobo crept unseen upon a low cliff, and lay down behind a mass of rocks. The Eussians chanced to select the same spot as a point of observation, but, instead of riding to the top of the eminence, where they would have been rather conspicuous, they rode under the cliff and halted just below, — not far- distant from the spot where the Turks lay, so that Eskiwin, craning his long neck over the rocks, could look down on the helmets of the Eussian cavaliers. Eor some minutes the sergeant and corporal conversed in whispers. This was exceedingly tan- talising to the friends above ! The hiss of their voices could be distinctly heard. Eskiwin's long arm could almost have reached them with a lance. Presently the corporal rode slowly away, became dim in the fog, and finally disappeared, while the sergeant remained immoveable like an equestrian statue. " This," whispered Ali Bobo solemnly, " is more than I can stand." Eskiwin whispered in reply that he would have to stand it whether he could or not. Bobo didn't agree with him (not an unusual 250 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS condition of mind with friends). He looked round. A huge stone lay at his elbow. It seemed to have been placed there on purpose. He rose very slowly, lifted the stone, held it in a position which is familiar to Scotch Highlanders, and hurled it with tremendous force down on the head of Sergeant Gotsuchakoff. The sergeant bowed to circumstances. With- out even a cry, he tumbled off his horse and laid his helmet in the dust. The Turks leaped down, seized him in their powerful arms, and carried him away, while the frightened horse bolted. It followed, probably, an animal instinct, and made for the Eussian lines. The corporal chanced to return at that moment. The Turks dropped their burden and lay flat down beside it. Seeing that his friend was gone, and hearing the clatter of his retreating charger, Cor- poral Shoveloff put spurs to his steed and followed. The Turks then rose, tied the legs of the sergeant with his own sword-belt, lest he should recover inopportunely, and bore him to a neighbouring thicket which loomed darkly through the fog. " Fate smiles upon us," whispered Ali Bobo, as the comrades entered the bushes and laid their burden down. If Bobo had known that he had laid that burden down within ten yards of the spot where Dobri A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 251 Petroff war, preparing, as I have described, to stalk the figure he had discovered in the same thicket, he might have recalled the sentiment in reference to Tate. But Bobo did not know. Suddenly, however, he discovered the figure that Petroff was stalking. It was leaning against a tree. He pointed it out to Eskiwin, while the scout, in- terrupted in his plans, sank into darkness and watched the result with much curiosity and some impatience. Just then the figure roused itself with a heavy sigh, looked sleepily round, and, remarking in an undertone, " It 's an 'orrible sitooation," turned itself into a more comfortable position and dropped off again with another sigh. But Ali Bobo did not allow it to enjoy repose. He glided forward, and, with a spring like that of a cat, laid his hand upon its mouth and threw it violently to the ground. With the aid of Eskiwin he pinned it, and then proceeded to gag it. All this Dobri Petroff observed with much in- terest, not unmingled with concern, for he perceived that the new-comers were Turks, and did not like the idea of seeing a man murdered before his eyes. But the thought of his friend Petko Borronow, and what he had at stake, restrained him from action. He was however at once relieved by ob- serving that, while the short Turk kneeled on the 252 IN THE TEACK OF THE TROOPS prisoner's chest and kept his mouth covered, so as to prevent his crying out, the tall Turk quickly tied his legs and hands. It was thus clear that im- mediate death was not intended. The scout's interest, to say nothing of surprise, was increased by what followed. When the short Turk, pointing a revolver at the prisoner's head, removed his hand so as to admit of speech, that prisoner's first utterance was an exclamation of astonishment in tones which were familiar to Petroff's ear. This was followed by exclamations of recognition from the Turks, and the short man seizing one of victim's tied hands shook it warmly. At that moment the scout's eyes were opened still wider with amazement, for the unfortunate Sergeant Gotsuchakoff — who, as I have said, had been laid down a few yards from him, and whom he had almost forgotten — began to recover consciousness and growled something in an undertone about its being " far too soon to turn out." Petroff recognised the well-known growl of the ^sergeant. In an instant he glided to his side, laid his hand on his mouth, and whispered — " Gotsuchakoff, be still for your life ! I am Dobri Petroff. Do you understand ? " He looked close to the sergeant's eyes and saw that he was understood. At once he removed his hand, and untied the belt which fastened the sergeant's feet. A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 253 Gotsuchakoff was too well used to war's alarms to give way to unreasonable curiosity. He instantly perceived that the scout required of him the utmost circumspection for some reason or other, and, in the spirit of a true soldier, awaited orders in total silence, ready for prompt action. This was well, because there was little time to spare. When Petroff directed the sergeant's atten- tion to the Turks they were busy undoing the bonds of their prisoner. Without saying another word, the scout glided swiftly forward. He was promptly followed by the sergeant. Kext moment both men leaped on the Turks and had them by their throats. Eskiwin was no match for Gotsuchakoff, who bore him back and held him like a vice. As for Ali Bobo, strong though he was, he felt himself to be a per- fect baby in the grasp of the scout. The two men submitted at once, and while Petroff ordered them in a low tone to keep silence, enforcing the order with the touch of a revolver's muzzle, the sergeant quickly bound their arms behind them. The scout turned to the prisoner, who was sitting on tlie ground with eyes dilated to the uttermost, and mouth wide open. He sat perfectly speechless. There was just light enough to make darkness visible. Petroff looked close in to the face of tlic man wliom he liad been about to stalk. 254 IN THE TEACK OF THE TROOrS " Lancey ! " he exclaimed. " Dobri Peterhuff," gasped the other. " Why, where did you come from ? " asked the scout in Turkish, which he was aware Lancey had been attempting to learn. "Dobri, my friend," replied the other solemnly, in English, " if this is a dream, it is the most houtrageous dream that I 've 'ad since I was a babby. But I 'm used to 'em now — only I do wish it was morning." The scout smiled, not because of what was said, which of course he did not understand, but because of the Englishman's expression. But time pressed; too much had already been lost. He therefore contented himself by giving Lancey a friendly slap on the shoulder and turned to the sergeant. " Gotsuchakoff," said he, " I 'm out on special ser- vice, and have already been delayed too long. This man," pointing to Lancey, " is an Englishman and a friend — remember that. The others are Turks. You know what to do with them. I cannot help you, but you won't need help." "Just so," replied Gotsuchakoff, with an intelligent nod, " only lend a hand to tie them together and then be off about your business." " Lancey," said Ali Bobo, while the operation was being performed, " zat big Bulgar beast he say you 's his friend." A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 255 " Big he is, a beast he *s not, and a friend he was/' replied Lancey, with a dazed look. Further conversation was cut short by the sergeant ordering the trio to move on. He led them towards the Eussian lines by a cord passed round Bobo's neck, and carried a revolver in his right hand. Dobri Petroff immediately disappeared in the opposite direction. At a later hour that night he entered the cottage of young Borronow. Giuana, Petko's sister, reclined on a rude but comfortable couch. She was singularly pretty and innocent-looking, but very delicate and young. Her friends called her For- niosa Giuana or Pretty Jane. Petko had been seated beside her, talking about the war, when his friend entered with a quick stealthy motion and laid a hand on his shouldey. " Dobri ! " exclaimed the youth. " Petko, there is danger at hand. Mischief is in the air. Time is precious. I may not say what it is, but you know me — I am not easily alarmed. You must promise me to quit this village with your sister within one hour." " But, Dobri, why ?— what ?— " "Petko, no questions. More than tliat, no remarks," interrupted the scout earnestly and firmly. "Another time I will explain. At present I ask you to trust, believe, and obey your friend. 256 IN THE TEACK OF THE TKOOPS If you would save your life and that of Giuana leave this village within an hour. Go where you will, but leave it." "I will both trust and obey you, Dobri," said Petko, returning the squeeze of his friend's hand, which he had not yet let go. " I said that time pressed, Petko ; God be with you ! Tarewell." The scout turned, stooped to kiss Giuana on her pale cheek, and before either could utter another word was gone. By midnight Dobri Petroff had made his rounds — now as a carter gruffly and clumsily driving a cart and horse of which he had managed to possess himself; anon as a stupid countryman belonging to the village on the height, noisily wanting to know why the Turks had robbed him of the said cart and horse, which he had conveniently tipped over a precipice, and vowing that he would carry his com- plaint against the army to the Sultan himself; once he was fain to act the part of a drunk man, almost incapable of taking care of himself. During his perambulations he ran frequent risk of being shot by irascible Bashi-Bazouks or wearied Albanians ; was more than once looked on with suspicion, and frequently suffered rough treatment, but he acted his part well. IN"© thing could draw from him a word or look beyond average intelligence. A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 257 ^0 indignity could rouse him to more than the war- fare of abuse, and the result was that long before dawn he found himself once more close to the front. But fortune seemed inclined to fail him here. He was creeping cautiously among a heap of rocks when a sentinel of the advanced line of the Turks discovered and challenged him. Petroff knew well that escape by running would be impossible, for he was only six yards distant. He made therefore no reply, but sank on the ground, keeping his eye, how- ever, sharply on the advancing sentinel. His only cause of anxiety was that the Turk might fire at him, in which case his doom would have been sealed. The Turk, however, preferred to advance and thrust his bayonet into him. Petroff had calculated on and was prepared for this. He caught the bayonet and checked its progress between his ribs. Another moment and the Turk lay on his back with the stock of his own rifle broken over his skuU. The scuffle had attracted the next sentry, who ran to his comrade's assistance. The scout instantly made the best use of his legs. He was as fleet as a mountain deer, but the rifle-ball was fleeter. He felt a sharp pain in his left arm, and almost fell. The alarm was given. Sentries on both sides fired, and another bullet grazed his temple, causing blood to flow freely down his face. Still lie k 258 IN THE TEACK OF THE TROOPS rail steadily on, and in a few minutes was safe with- in the Eussian lines. He was seized, of course, by those who first met him, and, not being known to them, was at once carried before a captain of dragoons, who knew him. By the captain he was sent to the tent of the General — the younger Skobeleff, — to whom he related the important information which he had obtained at so great ri">k. "Thank you, my fine fellow/* said the General, when Petroff had finished ; " you have done good service — are you badly wounded V "No — nothing worth mentioning," replied the scout, but as he spoke a feeling of giddiness oppressed him. He fainted and fell as he left the General's tent, and was carried on a stretcher to the rear. Before the grey dawn had dissipated the mists of morning, the village on the height was fought for, lost, and won ; its dwellings were reduced to ashes, and those of its inhabitants who had escaped massacre were scattered like sheep among the gorges of their native hills ; but Petko and Giuana Borronow were safe — at least for the time — witha kinsman, among the higher heights of the Balkan A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 259 CHAPTER XVIII. tREATS OF ONE OF OUR GREAT IRONCLADS. AViiiLE these stirring events were taking place amonf]; the mountains, I had made arrani^ements to quit the hospitals at Sistova and proceed with a detachment of Eussian troops to the front. The evening before my departure I received a most unexpected and interesting letter from my friend U. Biquitous, the effects of which were so surprising, and I may add unparalleled, that I can- not forbear quoting it. After a few of those sage reflections in which Biquitous is prone to indulge, he went on to say : — " You will be surprised to hear that there is some ])robability of my meeting you shortly, as I have become a special correspondent, like yourself. jMy ].aper, however, is an illustrated one, an Irish weekly of some merit, named the Evcrjrccn Isle, wliich will now, it is expected, advance to the front laiik of sucli periodicals. I purpose using the pencil as well as the pen, and, unlike you, am 260 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS subject to no restrictions of any kind. I have carte- VanchCy in fact, to draw what I like, write what I please, go where I feel inclined, stay as long as I may, and quit when I must. Veracity is no object. I am told to keep as manj^ servants and as large a retinue as I find convenient, and to spare no ex- pense. For the duties of this situation I am to receive no salary, but am at liberty to pay my own expenses. The honour of the thing is deemed more than sufficient compensation. " In virtue of this appointment I went recently to see and take notes of Her Majesty's famous ironclad turret-ship Thunderer. Knowing how much you are interested in the navy of England, I will relate a little of wliat I saw, premising, how- ever, that although strict veracity is not required of me, I am, as you know, a man of principle, and therefore impose it on myself, so that whatever I say in this letter in regard to this splendid man-of- war may be relied on as absolutely true. " Well, then, the gallant captain of the Thunderer, who is said to be one of the best disciplinarians in the service, and to have done many a deed of daring in the course of his adventurous career, received me very kindly. He is every inch a sailor, and as there are full seventy-three inches of him, I may be excused for styling him a splendid specimen. In consequence of my being a friend of a friend of A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 261 his, the captain invited me to spend several days on board. During my stay I inhabited the captain's ' fighting cabin/ — and this, by the way, reminds me that I was introduced to a young lieutenant on board, named Firebrand, who says he met you not long ago at Portsmouth, and mortally offended your Tnother by talking to her about the Thunderer's crinoline ! The ' fighting cabin ' is so styled be- cause it may be inhabited in safety while the ship is in action, being within the ship's tremendous armour plating. In times of peace the captain occupies a large handsome cabin on the deck, which, although made of iron capable of resisting winds and waves, and beautifully furnished, is neverthe- less liable to be swept bodily into the sea if hit by the giant shot of modern days. A corresponding cabin on the port side of the ship constitutes the ward-room. This also might be blown to atoms, with the officers and all their belongings, if a shell were to drop into it. But the officers also, hay^ places of refuge below while in action. " A large proportion of what meets the eye above the water-line gf this ironclad, and looks solid enough, is of this comparatively flimsy build ; np^ meant to resist shot or shell ; willing, as it were, to be blown away, if the enemy can manage it, though proof against rifle-bullets. There is a huge central erection, styled the Mlyiiig' or ' hurricane ' deck, 2G2 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS from which enormous davits project with several boats pendent therefrom. Out of this flying struc- ture rise the great iron mast — with a staircase inside leading to the ' top' — and the two smoke-funnels of the engines. In the heart of it rises ' the fightinj^ tower/ an armoured core, as it were, from whicli the captain and officers may survey the aspect of affairs while fighting, steer, and, by means of electricity, etc., work the monster guns of the ship. If all the flimsy work about the vessel were bloAvu into the sea, her vitality would not be affected, though her aspect would indeed be mightily changed for the worse, but the Thunderer in her entirety, witli her low-armoured hull, her central fighting- tower, her invulnerable turrets with their two 35 and two 38-ton guns, and all her armament and men, would still be there, as able and ready for action as ever. " Very simply yet very tastefully arranged did the captain's fighting cabin seem to me as I lay down on its narrow^ but comfortable bed, the first night of my visit, and looked around me. Besides a com- modious little chest of drawers, there were on one wall telescopes, swords, and naval caps ; on another a compact library. Above my head, stretching dia- gonally across the bed, was an object which caused me no littje surprise and much speculation. In appearance it resembled a giant flute with finger- holes that no man of mortal m,ould could have A TALE OF MODERN WAK. 263 covered. Not till next morning did I discover that this tube was part of a system of air- distributing pipes, supplied by fanners worked by steam, where- by fresh air is driven to every part of the vessel. " ' So,* said I to myself, turning to the prettily- painted wall at my side, and giving it a slight tap, 'the proverbial "two-inch plank" between me and death is here increased to somewhere about thirty inches,' " In this soliloquy I referred to the Thunderer's armour-plates, of from ten to twelve inches thick, which are affixed to a timber backing of eighteeu inches in two layers. With such a backing of solid comfort between me and ' death,' I felt soothed, and dropped asleep. " It was Saturday night. On Sunday morning I was awakened by a rushing of water so furious that I fancied the sea must have proved more than a match for the 12-inch armour and 18-inch backing ; but a moment or two of attentive reflection re- lieved me. Your friend Firebrand's voice was audible. I listened. He muttered something, and yawned vociferously, then muttered again — " ' Splend — propns — a-yi-a-ou !' " * Splendid proportions !' he resumed again, after a pause, during which the rush of water becaine more alarming, sundry gasps and inuch liard breathing being mingled with it, — * ]\lag-nificent,' 264 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS continued Firebrand in the low calm tone of a con- templative connoisseur; 'couldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it. Quite Herculean !' " From all this I came gradually to understand that some of the officers were performing their morning ablutions with sponge and towel, while Firebrand was looking languidly over the edge of his hammock, indulging in a critical commentary. "Just then I was surprised to hear a muffled thunderous bang ! It was the big drum, and, next moment, the ship's band announced itself with a single bar, excellently played, of 'God Save the Queen.' " Every Sunday, I found, was begun by a careful and minute inspection of the crew and ship. After breakfast the captain, followed by all his chief officers, went tlirough every hole and corner of the mighty iron fabric. I followed in his wake. At first the thought did not occur to me, but after all was over it struck me that this act was somewhat appropriate to the day. The great Thunderer had, as it were, gone into a condition of introspection. It was a species of self-examination on the part of the great war-ship, through the medium of its mind — the captain. Here was the father of a tre- mendously large family going the rounds on Sunday morning to observe whether his moral precepts and personal example during the week had been attended A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 2G5 with appropriate results — to see that his * boys ' were neat and clean, and ready for church, and that they had arranged their rooms before breakfast. " First of all, the men were mustered (by biigle) on the upper deck, — marines on one side, blue- jackets on the other. Then we walked slowly along the front ranks and down the rear, with critical eyes. I observed a crooked collar; the captain observed it too, and put it straight : I saw an ill- put-on belt ; the captain also saw it, pointed and referred to it in an undertone. A hole in a pair of trousers I did not observe, but the captain saw it, and commented on it in a somewhat severer manner. Kothing was passed over. Every brawny, powerful, broad-shouldered blue-jacket there was, in nautical phraseology, overhauled from stem to stern. A comment here, a word of approval there, or a quiet reprimand, was all that passed, but, being uttered to the attentive ears of the responsible officers, this was sufficient. After inspection, the men were dismissed, and the captain with his following de- scended to the interior of the ship. It would take reams of paper, my dear Jeffry, to refer to all that was said and done. I must give you but a brief outline. We went along the sides of the vessel, where the arms were ranged, and any speck of rust OT appearance of careless treatment of the polisho 1 and glitterinf,' weapons was noted, and the le- 2G0 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS sponsible officer called then and there to account. So was it in every department. The Thunderer lies low, as I have said ; much of her is below water, therefore light is scarce and valuable. During our perambulation we came to some machinery and bulkheads, etc., which were dingy in colour. ' Paint them white,' said the captain to the officer of each department ; ' I don't point out details, but use as much white paint as you can. It makes the ship look light and cheerful.' Every order given was emphatic yet considerate ; given to the officer in whose department the hitch occurred, and retailed by him to subordinates who knew well that they would come to grief if they did not make a note of it. Many of the * departments ' were so well managed that no fault at all could be found, and it was evident that the captain, in such cases, found a pleasure in ' giving honour to whom honour was due.' " ' Some men,' said Firebrand, who chanced to be close to me, and to whom I commented ou tlie advantage of thorough obedience, ' some men, how- ever, carry this quality a little too far. I knew of a man once, named Billy Ewart, who prided himself greatly on the care with which he fulfilled every part of his duty, so that it was impossible for the strictest disciplinarian to find fault with him. He had charge of the main deck. One day the Admiral inspected the ship, and took occasion to praise A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 267 Billy Ewart for cleaning so well the main deck and everything connected with it. "The only duty things I see," he said, pointing to a hen-coop, "are the legs of your geese." This was, of course, a joke, but it preyed on Billy's mind, and at next inspec- tion he had the geese whitewashed and their legs and bills blackleaded. Poor Billy had no peace after that ; even at the theatres, when he chanced to be observed there by his mates, one would call to anotlier, " I say, Jack, who wliitewashed the geese !" ' " As Firebrand concluded, we had completed tlie inspection of the main deck, and descended to the lower deck, where the men lived and messed, and where a clean and trim blue-jacket — ' cook of the mess ' for the day — stood at the head of each table. The tables and cans and tins and platters and men were required to be as clean and bright as a new pin. Then on we went to tlie berth of the warrant- officers, and after that down still lower to tlie engine-room. There the chief engineer came to tlie front and became responsible for the mighty cranks and gigantic cylinders and awe-inspiring beams, and complicated mazes of machinery, which raised him, in my mind, to little short of a demigod — for you must know that I, like yourself, am full of admiration and ignorance in regard to engineering; forces. Next we went to the lowest depths of all, among the boilers, which appeared to me like im 268 IN THE TRACKOF THE TROOPS avenue — a positive street, sir — in Pandemonium. It was here that the tremendous explosion occurred in July 1876, when upwards of forty men were killed and many wounded, the captain himself (who was in the engine-room at the time) having narrowly escaped suffocation. Thereafter, the maga- zines of shot and shell were visited, and, in short, every hole and corner of the ship, and thus in an hour or so it was ascertained that the ISTelsonian demand, and England's expectation, had been ful- filled, — ' every man ' had done ' his duty,' and the great ironclad was pronounced to be in a healthy, Sabbatic state of mind and body. " In this satisfactory frame we finally went to the fore part of the ship, where w^e found the crew as- sembled, and where, standing at the capstan, the captain read the Church of England service, tlie responses being effectively rendered by the stalwart crew. In regard to this service I will only remark that I observed the introduction of a prayer which was entirely new to me, namely, that for the bless- ing of God on the ship, its crew, its duties, and its destination, to which I could and did, with all heartiness, respond 'Amen,' because as long as God's blessing rests on the Thunderer she will not be sent out to do battle in an unrighteous cause. " Next morning I had an opportunity of witnessing the big-gun turret drill. A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 209 ''It was an imposing spectacle, a fine display of the power of mind over matter. Force, might, weight, appeared to have attained their culminating exemplification here, and yet the captain said to me that his 35 and 38 ton guns are mere pistols to the things which are being prepared for vessels of our navy yet to come. "My dear fellow, do you know what a 38-ton gun means ? Have you ever seen one ? Can you appre - ciate the fact that its weight is equal to thirty- eight carts of coals ? Did you ever see the powder with which it is fed? One grain of it was given to me as a great favour, by the chief gunner's mate — I think that is his correct title, but am not quite sure. He presented it in a cardboard box. I now send you its portrait. Facsimile of a grain of powder for tlie 38-ton guns of the Thunderer — actual size. " Here it is, as large as life — real/// so, without a tuuch of exaggeration. I have measured it carefully 270 IN THE TRA.CK OF THE TROOPS "with a tape foot-rule, and I find the dimensions to be five inches and a quarter in circumference. " It is a solid cube of gunpowder. The cartridge which holds this powder is a pillow, an absolute bolster, of some three feet in length and twelve inches in diameter. It had need be, for the shell which it is meant to propel is the size of a small boy and the weight of an average ox, namely 614 lbs. The length of each 38-ton gun is nineteen feet, and its range about 6000 yards. Just try to imagine an ox being propelled through space, be- tween three and four miles, at a rate which I don't recollect, and which doesn't signify. Try also to remember that each gun costs between £2000 and £3000, and that every time a turret lets fly a shot from one of her guns the expense is £12, 10s. The 80-ton guns which are to supersede these will, it is said, cost upwards of £10,000 each. This will enable you to form some idea of England's ' greatness.' " The drill and working of these guns is magnificent. Nearly everything in the fore-turret is worked by steam and hydraulic power, so that comparatively few men are required to move the iron monsters. Let me ask you to imagine the men at their stations. Some are inside the turret, and as guns and turret move in concert the men inside move with them. Those outside the turret stand at its A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 271 base, and are therefore below the iron deck and protected by the iron sides of the ship. The insiders revolve, aim, and fire the gun ; the outsiders load. The first lieutenant, standing at the base of the tower, close to the hole by which it is entered, so that he may be heard by both out and insider^, shouts, * Close up,' in the voice of a Stentor. At this some men grasp levers, others stand by wheels which let on respectively hydraulic power and steam. The captain of the tower, seated on an elevated position, puts his head through a man-hole in the roof of the turret, which hole is covered with a bullet-proof iron hood, having a narrow opening in front. He surveys the supposed enemy, and his duty is to revolve the tower, take aim, and let go the firing machinery, i.e. pull the trigger. The outsiders stand by the locking bolt, levers, shot- racks, etc. Then, in the attitude of ready-for- action, all become motionless attentive statues — a regular tableau- viv ant. " Stentor again shouts, * Cast loose.' To my ignorant eye energetic confusion ensues. The captain of the turret is causing it to revolve this way and that, with its crew and guns, by a mere touch of his finger. Lever and wheel-men do their duty ; the guns are run in (or out when required) with the ease of pop-guns, till certain marks on carriages and slides correspond ; then they are laid, 272 I>^ THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS firing-gear is cleared and made ready, while the out- siders take out the tompion, open the port and scuttle of the gun about to be loaded, bring forward a bolster of powder (or a representative mass of wood), and place a giant shot on a ' trolly/ which is just a little railway- carriage to convey the shot on rails from its rack to the gun. Meanwhile the captain of the turret gives the order, 'Starboard (or port) loading position,' turns the turret uutil the gun is opposite its ' loading-hole,' and then depresses its muzzle to the same point, jams ii against the hole, and the turret is ' locked.' " * Sponge and load/ is now given — but not by Stentor. The forces at work are too great in some cases to be left to the uncertain human voice. A piece of mechanism, called a ' tell-tale/ communi- cates with infallible certainty that the monster is quite ready to feed ! A hydraulic ramrod thereupon wets his whistle with a sponge, on the end of which is a small reservoir of water. The monster is temperate. This withdrawn, a wad is placed on the end of the ramrod. Three men shove a bolster of powder into the gun's mouth. The huge shot is then hydraulically lifted to the muzzle. No mortal man could move that shot a hair's-breadth in the right direction, but the hydraulic ram is brought to bear, and shoves the delicious morceau not down but u^ his throat with an easp that would be absurd A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 273 if it were not tremendous. The tell-tale now intimates to the insiders, ' Gun loaded.' The captain of the turret gives the order, 'Eun out.' Hydraulic at work again. In a few seconds the gun muzzle is raised, and projects through its port-hole. When the object and distance are named, the captain of the turret takes aim, and then follows, in more or less rapid succession, 'Elevate,' 'De- press,' * Extreme elevation,' or the reverse, — * Eeady ! ' — ' Fire ! ' when the Thunderer is shaken to her centre, and twelve pounds ten shilKngs sterling go groaning uselessly into the deep, or crashing terrifically through the armour-plates of an unfortunate enemy. " My dear fellow, this gives you but a faint outline of it, but time and paper would fail me if I were to tell in detail of the mode by which all this can be done by the captain of the Thunderer him- self, by means of speaking-tubes and electricity and a * director,' so that he can, while standing in the fighting tower, aim, point, and fire, as if with his own hand, guns which he cannot see, and which are forty feet or so distant from him. Would that I could relate to you a tithe of what I have seen ! — the day, for instance, when tlie blue-jackets, to the number of one hundred and fifty, had a field-day on shore, and went through infantry drill — skirmisliing and all — as well, to my unpractised eye, as if they 274 IN THE TRACK OF THE TEOOrS had been regular ' boiled lobsters ; ' to say notliing of their manoeuvres with the Gatling gun. This latter weapon, perhaps you don't know, is simply a bundle of gigantic muskets which load and fire themselves by the mere turning of a handle — a martial barrel-organ, in short, which sends a con- tinuous shower of balls in the face of an advancing or on the back of a retreating foe. The greater involves the less. No one can deny that, and it is my opinion that in the British navy the sailor now includes the soldier. He is, as it were, a blue- jacket and a boiled lobster rolled into one tremendous sausage — a sausage so tough that it would be un- commonly difficult for any one, in Yankee phrase, to ' chaw him up.' " Then there is the Whitehead torpedo. " ' A thing of beauty,' says the poet, ' is a joy for ever.' The poet who said it was an no, I won't go that length, but it is clear that he had not seen a Whitehead torpedo. That delicate instrument is indeed a thing of beauty, for it is elegantly formed of polished steel, but when it happeus to stick its head into a ship's stern, it is not a 'joy' even for a moment, and it effectually stops, for ever, all con- sideration of its qualities by those who chance to feel them. It is shaped like a fish, and has a tail. Its motive power is in its tail, which is a screw propeller. It has lungs, consisting of a tank for A TALE OF MODEIIN WAR. 275 holding compressed air. It has a stomach, composed of a pair of pneumatic engines which drive it through the water. Its body is fourteen feet long, more or less. Its head contains an explosive charge of 110 pounds of wet gun-cotton, with a dry- disc of the same in its heart. It goes off by con- cussion, and could sink our largest ironclad — there is no doubt whatever about that. Its cost is be- tween four and five hundred pounds sterling. One of the peculiarities of this celebrated torpedo is, that it can be regulated so as to travel at a given deptli below water. This is not so much to conceal its course, which is more or less revealed by the air- bubbles of its atmospheric engine, as to cause it to hit the enemy ten or twelve feet below her water- line. What the effect of this new war-monster shall be is at present in the womb of futurity. I hope sincerely that the world may suffer no greater loss from it than its cost. " By the way, I must not forget to tell you that I have grown at least an inch since I saw you last, in consequence of having been mistaken for the captain of the Thunderer ! That the mistake was made by a pretty, innocent, sweet, ignorant young girl, with intensely blue eyes, does not abate my vanity one jot. That such a mistake should be made by anybody was complimentary. It happened thus : — I was seated alone in the captain's cabin, writing 276 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS for the Evergreen Isle, when a party of ladies and gentlemen passed the door and looked in. They were being shown over the ship. * That/ said the blue-jacket who conducted them, ' is the captain's cabin.' ' And is that/ whispered blue-eyes, in the sweetest of voices, * the captain ? ' My heart stopped ! U. Biquitous the captain of the Thunderer ! I felt indignant when blue-jacket replied, with a contemp- tuous growl — ' No, miss, 'taint.' They passed on, but I could not rest. I rose and followed blue-eyes about the ship like a loving dog, at a respectful distance. I tried to find out her name, but failed — her address, but failed again. Then they left, and she vanished from my sight — for ever. "But enough of this. Adieu, my dear Jeffry, till we meet. — Yours affectionately, U. B. "P.>S. — I mentioned you to the captain as a friend of mine, and an enthusiastic torpedoist. Be sure you call on him if you should ever find yourself in the neighbourhood of the mighty Thunder er!* A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 277 CHAPTER XTX. DESCRIBES A STIRRING FIGHT. It was late when I folded this letter, about the surprising effects of which I have yet to speak. Having been very much overwrought in the hospitals that day, I flung myself on my bed and fell into a sound sleep, having previously cautioned my assistant, who occupied a couch opposite mine, not to disturb me except in a case of necessity. It could not have been long afterwards when I was awakened by him violently, and told tliat a telegram had just arrived summoning me home ! I sprang up and read it anxiously. There was no explanation. The telegram was simple but urgent. My mother, my sister, Nicholas, illness, death, disaster of some sort, filled my mind as I huddled on my clothes and made hurried preparations to obey the summons. Of course no inquiries could be made. The telegram was peremptory. I crushed a few things into a portmanteau, and, obtaininj^ 278 IN THE TEACK OF THE TROOPS permission, left the hospital without a moment's delay. The distance to the coast was considerable, but I had ample means, and found no difficulties in the way. It is always so in this life — at least in regard to ordinary things — when one possesses unlimited means. Now I must pause at this point, and beg the reader to bear with me while I relate a few things that may appear at first sight overdrawn. Let judgment be suspended until all has been told. There was no difficulty whatever, I repeat, in reaching Varna. From thence to Constantinople was merely a matter of a few hours' in an ordinary steamer. My personal acquaintance with several European ambassadors enabled me to pass the lines and travel in the enemy's country without obstruction or delay. My position as occasional war-correspon- dent of the Scottish Bawlee would have procured me interviews with many celebrities, but anxiety pre- vented my taking advantage of this. In process of time I arrived at Besika Bay, and here I found the British fleet at anchor. Of course I had been aware of its presence there, and felt some pleasure in contemplating a visit to some of the ships, in several of which I had friends. It was with great surprise that I found the Thunderer among the wa-^- ships assembled in the Bay. I had A TALE OF MODERN WAIl. 279 never heard of her having left England, though I had been told that her sister-ship the Devastation was at Besika. Eemembering the injunction of my friend Bi- quitous, I went on board the Thunderer, and was hospitably received by the captain. He had only time, however, to shake hands and beg me to make myself at home. There was obviously something of importance about to happen, for great activity pre- vailed among officers and men. It seemed to my untutored eye as if they were getting up steam and preparing for some sort of expedition. The captain did not invite me to accompany them ; nevertheless I went. It was not long before the object of the expedition was revealed. A monster Eussian iron- clad, it was said, lay somewhere " outside." We were sent to observe her. In the evening we sighted lier. There was another Eussian war- ship — a fri- gate — close to her. The ironclad was similar to ourselves : a long low hull — a couple of turrets with a central "flying" structure or "hurricane-deck." We made straight towards her. The bugle sounded and the crew was called to quarters. " My dear sir," said I to the captain, " has war been declared between England and Eussia?" The captain made no reply. On repeating the question anxiously he merely said — *• Never mind !" 280 IN THE TRACK OF THE TEOOPS I was surprised, almost hurt, and greatly perplexed, for the captain was noted for politeness and urbanity, but of course I retired at once. Next moment I saw a puff of smoke burst from the side of the Eussian ironclad, and a shot leaped towards us. Its size was such that we could trace it from the muzzle of the gun. Describing, as I thought (for strange is the power of thought), a rather high trajectory, it passed over us and plunged into the sea with a swish that sent hundreds of tons of water like an inverted cascade into the air. A gush of indignation filled my breast. That the war- ship of a nation with which we were at peace should fire at us without provocation was more than I could endure. " Are you going to stand that, captain ?" I asked, with an uncontrollable gush of indignation at the Eussian's audacity. The captain gave one sardonic laugh, and a shrug of his shoulders, but vouchsafed no reply. Hearing one of the officers give some order about Whitehead torpedoes, I ran to the room where these monsters were kept. I was just in time to see one lifted on to a species of carriage and wheeled to the side of the ship. Here a powerful air-pump was set to work, and the torpedo's lungs were filled almost to the bursting point. Its deadly head — brought from the magazine — was at the same time A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 281 attached to its body. Another instant and a port was thrown open in the Thunderer's side, through which the Whitehead was launched. It went with a sluggish plunge into the sea. "While it was in the act of passing out a trigger was touched which set the pneumatic engines agoing. The screw-propelling tail twirled, and the monster, de- scending ten feet below the surface, sped on its mission. I rushed on deck. The air-bubbles showed me that the engine of destruction had been aimed at the Eussian frigate. In a few seconds it had closed with it. I could see that there was terrible consternation on board. ISText moment a fountain of foam shot from the deep and partially obscured the frigate. I saw men leaping overboard and spars falling for a few moments, then the frigate lurched heavily to port and went head foremost to the bottom. I stood gazing in a species of horrified abstrac- tion, from which I was recalled by some of our men running to the side of the vessel. They were about to lower the steam-launch. It was to be sent out as a torpedo-boat, and young Firebrand, whom I now observed for the first time, took command. Just then a torpedo-boat was seen to quit the side of the Eussian. We were ready for her. Our largest Gatling gun liad been lioisted to tliat platform ou our mast which is styled the ** top." 282 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS When within range this weapon commenced firing. It was absohitely horrible. One man turned a handle at the breech, another kept supplying the self-acting cartridge-box. As the handle was turned the cartridges dropped into their places and exploded. Six or nine tubes, I forget which, were thus made to rain bullets without intermission. They fell on the screen of the advancing torpedo-boat like hail, but quite harmlessly. Then I heard a voice within the fore-turret give a command which sounded like " Extreme depression." It was quickly fol- lowed by "Fire!" and the Thunderer quivered from keel to truck under the mighty explosion. The great 3 8 -ton gun had been splendidly served, for the monster ball hit the boat amidships and crushed the bow under water, at the same instant the stern leaped into the air, and she went down with a dive like a Greenland whale. Hearty cheers burst from the men in the " top.'*' These were echoed with a muffled sound from the men shut up in the armoured hull below — for it must be remembered that not a soul had been visible all this time on the Thunderer except the men in the " top " and those who had been sent to lower the steam-launch. Apparently rendered savage by this event, the Russians let fly a volley from their four great-guns, but without serious result. They had been ad- A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 283 mirably pointed, however, for the two outer shots hit our turrets, deeply indented them, and glanced ofY, while the inner shots went slap through the flying structure as if it had been made of pasteboard, leaving clean-cut holes, which, of course, only made the place more airy. Night had now fallen. The danger of attack by torpedo-boats having been recognised, both iron- clads had let down their crinolines. But the cap- tain of the Thunderer had resolved on a — a — what shall I call it ? — a " dodge," wliicli would probably deceive the enemy. He had an electric light on board. Every one knows nowadays that this is an intense light, caused by oxyhydrogen and lime, which, being thrown on a given point, illuminates it with a glare equal, almost, to that of day. After dark the captain shot this light from his mast-head straight at the enemy, and in the full glare of it our steam-launch or torpedo-boat was sent out ! I was amazed beyond measure. Forgetting my- self for a moment, I exclaimed, " Captain, you are mad !" As might have been expected, the captain made no reply. The steam-launcli carried two torpedoes, each containing 1 00 lbs. of powder. " Be careful to sheer off quickly after exploding," said the captain to Firebrand quietly. 284 IN THE TEACK OF THE TROOPS rirebrand replied, " Yes, sir," respectfully, but I heard him distinctly add, in a low tone, to himself, " I '11 run slap into her and blow her to atoms as well as myself. Somebody must fall in every action. It 's a forlorn hope at sea, that 's all. — Full steam ! " he added aloud to the engineer. As the boat rushed away in the blaze of the electric light, the captain's ruse suddenly dawned on my mind. The Russian at once saw the boat, and, with naturally nervous haste, knowing the ter- rible nature of such boats, made preparations to thwart her. Close in the wake of the boat the Thunderer followed with the intent to run the Rus- sian down with her ram, which is a tremendous iron beak projecting, below water, from her bow. The " dodge " was to dazzle the enemy with the electric light, and, while her attention was concentrated on the torpedo-boat, to " ram " her ! " Steady !" said Firebrand, in a deep voice. Something else was replied by somebody in a deeper voice. The boat ploughed on its way like a furious hornet. " Fire !" shouted the Russians. Instantly, from turret, bulwark, and mast-head leaped livid flames of fire, and the sea was torn up by bullets, while fearful spouts were here and ther& raised by shots from the heavy guns. Everything A TALE OF MODERN WAll. 285 was concentrated on the torpedo-boat. It was ob- vious that the dazzling light at the mast-head of the Thunderer had blinded her adversary as to her own movements. " Let drive !" I heard the order of the Russian captain as dis- tinctly as if I had been on board his own ship, and was somewhat surprised at its being given in slang EuGjlish. The result was a rain of musketry, which rattled on the iron armour of the launch's protecting screen as the sticks rattle on a kettle-drum. " Ready !" said Firebrand, with suppressed in- tensity. As the boat drew near the Russian small shot was tearing up the sea like a wintry storm. The order having been given, the torpedo-spars were lowered, so that each torpedo sank ten feet under water. "Fire !" yelled Firebrand. Electricity was applied, both torpedoes exploded, and the launch sheered off gallantly in cataracts of foam. At the same moment the Russians observed us not ten yards distant, coming stem on at full speed. Her turret guns were concentrated and fired ; so were ours. The crash was indescribably liideous, yet it was as nothing compared witli that wliich 286 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS followed a few seconds later. Our ram, entering the Eussian fairly amidships, cut her almost in two. "We backed out instantly, intending to repeat the operation. Well was it for us that we did so. We had just backed a few hundred yards astern, and given the order to go ahead full steam, when the Eussian's magazine exploded. Our charge had somehow fired it. Instantly there was a crashing roar as if heaven and earth had met in chaotic conflict. The air was darkened with burst- ing clouds of blackest smoke, in the midst of which beams, guns, pistons, boilers, armour-plates, human limbs and heads were seen hurling about like the debris of a wrecked universe. Much of this came down upon our iron deck. The clatter was appal- ling. It was a supreme moment ! I was standing on the flying structure beside one of the officers. " Glorious !" he muttered, while a pleasant smile played upon his lips. Just then I chanced to look up, and saw one of the Eussian fore-turret 85-ton guns falling towards me. It knocked me off the flying structure, and I fell with an agonising yell on the deck below. "Hallo!" exclaimed a familiar voice, as a man stooped to raise me. I looked up. It was my hospital-assistant. I had fallen out of bed ! ** You seem to have had a night of it, sir — cheer- A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 287 ing and shouting to such an extent that I thought of awaking you once or twice, but refrained because of your strict orders to the contrary. Not hurt, I hope ?" *' So, then," I said, with a sigh of intense relief, as I proceeded to dress, " the whole affair has been — A Deeam 1" *' Ah !" thought I, on passing through the hospital for the last time before quitting it, and gazing sadly on the ghastly rows of sick and wounded, " well were it for this unfortunate world if war and all its horrors were but the phantasmagoria of a similar dream," 288 IN THE TRACK OF THE TKOOPS CHAPTER XX. TREATS OF WAR AND SOME OF ITS " GLORIOUS " RESULTS, fy^ In process of time I reached the front, and chanced to arrive on the field of action at a some- what critical moment. Many skirmishes, and some of the more important actions of the war, had been fought by that time — as I already knew too well from the hosts of wounded men who had passed through my hands at Sistova ; and now it was my fate to witness another phase of the dreadful " game." Everywhere as I traversed the land there was evidence of fierce combats and of wanton destruc- tion of property ; burning villages, fields of produce trodden in the earth, etc. Still further on I en- countered long trains of w^agons bearing supplies and ammunition to the front. As we advanced these were met by bullock-trains bearing wounded men to the rear. The weather had been bad. The road w^as almost knee-deep in mud, and so cut up A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 289 by traffic that pools occurred here and there, into which wagons and horses and bullocks stumbled and were got out with the greatest difficulty. The furious lashing of exhausted and struggling cattle was mingled with the curses and cries of brutal drivers, and the heartrending groans of wounded soldiers, who, lying in many cases with undressed wounds on the hard, springless, and jolting vehicles, suffered excruciating agony. Many of these, unable to endure their sufferings, died, and thus the living and the dead were in some cases jolted slowly along together. The road on each side was lined with dead animals and men — the latter lying in a state of apparent rest, which called forth envious looks from the dying. But a still sadder spectacle met my eye when, from another road which joined this one, there came a stream of peasantry, old men, women, and children, on foot and in country carts of all kinds, flying from the raging warriors who desolated their villages, and seeking, they knew not wliere — an}'- ^^ liere — for refuge. Too often they sought in vain. Many of these people had been wounded — even tlie women and little ones — with bullet, sword, and spear. Some carried a few of their most cherished household articles along with them. Others were only too glad to have got away with life. Here an old man, who looked as if he had been a T 290 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS soldier long before the warriors of to-day were born, was gently compelled by a terror-stricken young woman with a wounded neck to lay his trembling old head on her shoulder as they sat on a little straw in the bottom of a native cart. He had reached that venerable period of life when men can barely totter to their doors to enjoy the sun- shine, and when beholders regard them with irre- sistible feelings of tenderness and reverence. War had taught the old man how to stand erect once more — though it was but a spasmodic effort — and his poor fingers were clasped round the hilt of an old cavalry sabre, from which female hands had failed to unclasp them. There, in another cart, lay an old woman, who had been bed-ridden and utterly helpless for many a year, but war had wrought miracles for her. It had taught her once again to use her shrunken limbs, to tumble out of the bed to which she had been so long accustomed, and where she had been so lovingly nursed, and to crawl in a paroxysm of terror to the door, afraid lest she should be forgotten by her children, and left to the tender mercies of Cossack or Bashi- Bazouk. Needless fear, of course, for these children were only busy outside with a few absolute neces- saries, and would sooner have left their own dead and mangled bodies behind than have forgotten " granny " ! Elsewhere I saw a young woman, A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 291 prone on her back in another cart, with the pallor of death on her handsome face, and a tiny little head pressed tenderly to her swelling breast. It was easy to understand that war had taught this young mother to cut short the period of quiet repose which is deemed needful for woman in her circum- stances. Still another cart I must mention, for it contained a singular group. A young man, with a powerfully-made frame, which must once have been robust, but was now terribly reduced by the wasting fires of a deadly fever, was held forcibly down by a middle-aged man, whose resemblance to him re- vealed his fatherhood. Two women helped the man, yet all three were barely able to restrain the youth, who, in the fury of his delirium, gnashed with his teeth, and struggled like a maniac. I knew nothing about them, but it was not difficult to read the history of one who had reached a critical period in a fell disease, who had, perchance, fallen into a long- desired and much-needed slumber that might have turned the scale in his favour, when the hope of parents and the cliances of life were scattered sud- denly by the ruthless trump of war. War had taught liiiu liow to throw off the sweet lethargy that had been stealing over him, and to start once again on that weary road where he had been grappling in imagination with the brain-created fiends who had persecuted him so long, but who in 292 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS reality were gentle spirits compared with the human devils by whom he and his kindred were surrounded. On this journey, too, I met many brethren of the medical profession, who, urged by the double motive of acquiring surgical skill and alleviating human woe, were pressing in the same direction. Some had been fortunate enough, like myself, to obtain horses, others, despising difficulties, were pushing forward through the mud on foot. I need scarcely add that some of us turned aside from time to time, as opportunity offered, to succour the unfortunates around us. At last I reached the front, went to headquarters, presented my credentials, and was permitted to attach myself to one of the regiments. At once I made inquiries as to the whereabouts of Nicholas Naranovitsch, and was so fortunate as to find him. He was in the act of mounting his horse as I reached his quarters. It is impossible to describe the look of surprise and delight with which he greeted me. " My dear fellow ! " said he, turning at once to his girths and stirrups after the first hearty squeeze, " what breeze of good fortune has blowm you here ? Any news from home ?" " Yes, all well, and a message — by the way, I had almost forgot it/' fumblinsj in my pocket, " for you." A TALK OF MODEKN WAR. 293 " Almost forf^ot it ! " eclioed Nicliolas, lookinor round with a smile and a glance which was meant for one of withering rebuke. " Here it is," I exclaimed, handing him a three- cornered note, which had come in my mother's letter. He seized it eagerly and thrust it into the breast-pocket of his coat. " Now look here, Jeff," he said, having seen to the trappings of his steed, " you know what war is. Great things are at stake. I may not delay even to chat with you. But a few words will suffice. Do you know anything about your servant Lancey ?" " Nothing. I would give anything to hear that the poor fellow was alive. Have you — " " Yes, I have seen him. I chanced this very morning, while galloping across country with an order from the General^ to see him among the camp- followers. Why there I know not. To search for him now would be like looking for a needle in a haystack, but I observed tliat he was in company with our Bulgarian friend the scout Dobri PetrotT, who is so well known that he can easily be found, and will probably be able to lead you to him. Now, only one word for myself : don't forget a message to Bella — say — say — bah ! You English are such an undemonstrative set that I don't like to put it in words, but — you ought to know what to say, and when you 've said it just add, liko a good 294 IN THE TKACK OF THE TROOPS fellow, that I would liave said a great deal more if I had had the saying of it myself. D' you under- stand ? " " All right," said I, with a laugh. " We English feel, although we don't demonstrate much, and can act when occasion requires it with as much energy as Eussians. I '11 say all you could wish, and some things, mayhap, that you couldn't have said your- self. — But where are you going in such haste ?" " To battle, Jeff," he replied, with one of those proud glances of the eyes which must be some- what akin to the expanded nostrils of the war- horse when he scents the battle from afar. " At least," he added, " to convey orders which will have some bearing on what is about to follow. The Turk is brave. We find that he fights well." " Ha ! " said I quickly, " you find him a plucky fellow, and begin to respect him ?" "Yes, truly, he is a worthy foe," returned Nicholas with animation. " Just so," I rejoined, unable to repress a feeling of bitterness, "a worthy foe simply because he possesses the courage of the bull-dog ; a worthy foe, despite the fact that he burns, pillages, violates, murders, destroys, and tortures in cold blood. What if Bella were in one of these Bulgarian villages when given over to the tender mercies of a troop of Bashi-Bazouks ? " A TALE OF MODEEN WAR. 295 Nicholas had his left hand on the reins and resting on the pommel of his saddle as I said this. He turned and looked at me with a face almost white with indi sanation. "Jeff, how can you suggest? Bashi-Bazouks are devils — " " Well, tlien," said I, interrupting, " let us suppose Cossacks, or some other of your own irregulars instead — " I stopped, for Nicholas had vaulted on his horse, and in another second was flying at full speed over the plain. Perhaps I was hard on him, but after the miseries I witnessed that day I could not help trying to send the truth home. Time pressed now. The regiment to which I was attached had received orders to march. I galloped off in search of it. At first I had thought of making a hurried search for Lancey or the scout, but gave up the idea, well content to have heard that the former was alive. The Turks at this time were advancing under IMahomet All Pasha on the position occupied by the Eussians on the Lom river. As I joined my regiment and reported myself, I heard distant cannonading on the left, and observed troops moving off in all directions. We soon got the order to march, and, on going to the top of a small eminence, came in sight of the field of action. 296 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS To my unaccustomed eyes the country appeared to be alive with confused masses of moving men, from some of which masses there burst at intervals the rolling smoke of rifle-firing. Of course I knew that there was order and arrangement, but the only order that impressed itself on me was that of the Piussian regiment at my side, as the men strode steadily forward, with compressed lips and stern yet eager glances. The Turkish troops had moved out and taken up a position on the face of a hill under cover of some woods. As battalion after battalion marched away, T, for the first time, became impressed with the multitudes of men who constitute an army, and, at the same time, with the feeling that something like a pitched battle was about to be fought. From the elevated position on which we stood I could see that numbers of Eussian cavalry were prowling about over the plain, as if watching the movements of the enemy. The intention of the Turks soon became evident, for they suddenly swarmed out of the w^oods and advanced to the attack. A Eussian battery on our right instantly opened on them. This was replied to vigorously by a Turkish battery opposite. While these two turned their attention on each other, the troops in the plain below came into action. They swarmed over the numerous undulations, skirmished through the scrub and the A TALE OF MODEKN WAR. 207 fields of coin and maize, attacked a village in a hollow, and cliarged on various batteries and posi- tions of strength, — sometimes one side, sometimes the other, being successful. The thunder of the great guns increased, the tremendous rattle of small arms became continuous, with now and again exceptionally strong bursts, when whole battalions fired in volleys. The smoke soon became so dense as partly to obscure the vision. At that moment a Turkish battalion was seen to approach the mound on which we stood, with the evident intention of storming it. At the same time I observed a squadron of Eussian cavalry trot smartly round the skirt of a wood on our left and take up a position. They were not fifty yards from the spot wliere I stood. I could even see the expression of their faces, and I fancied that the figure and countenance of the right-hand man of the troop were familiar to me. "He's a fine-looking man, sir, is he not?" said a voice at my elbow. I turned in amazement. It was Dobri Petroff ! There was no room for more tlian a squeeze of the hand at such a moment. " Tliat is our friend Andrd Yanovitch, sir." As he spoke I saw the captain of the troop fall from his horse. A stray ball had killed him, and this was the fir.^t tliim;- that drew my attention to 298 IN THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS the fact that bullets were whistling over our own heads now and then. This happened at the very moment when a staff ofi&cer galloped up to the troop with an order. Seeing what had happened, this officer put himself at the head of the troop and gave the command to advance. I recognised the voice at once as that of Nicholas. They swept past close in front of us at full gallop, and I could see on the face of Nicholas and on that of the stalwart Andr4 the same open, gladsome, noble expression, suggestive of high chivalrous sentiment, and a desire to do noble self-sacrificing deeds for fatherland. My own heart bounded within me as I looked at them, and I could not resist bursting into a cheer, which was taken up and prolonged wildly by the troops around. The squadron came upon the Turks unexpectedly, but they stood like true men. Courage, however, was of no avail The dragoons were heavy and irresistible. They cut right through the Turks ; turned, charged again, and scattered them like chaff. I could perceive, in the midst of the fray, the lithe forms of Nicholas and Andre laying about them with tremendous impetuosity. Personal valour is necessary, but it is not omni- potent nowadays. When the squadron returned, reduced almost to a skeleton, the Turks had re- A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 299 formed, were largely reinforced, and came at us again with steady determination. At the same time reinforcements came pouring in on our side, and I soon found that the position we occupied was deemed one of considerable importance. The Turks came on steadily, and now I learned, for the first time, the power of modern weapons. Our men were armed with breech-loaders, so that no time was lost in loading. Our commander acted on a principle which is said to be usually adopted by General Skobeleff. He reserved his fire until the Turks were within a hundred yards, and then gave the order to com- mence. The scene that followed is indescribable. Eight hundred men fell at once before the wither- ing blast of lead. The firing was continuous. No troops on earth could have stood it. The Turks were instantly shattered and repulsed. When they had retired, and the smoke had partially cleared away, I saw the plain covered with slaughtered men. Some were prone and motionless in death. Some were moving slightly. Others were struggling, as if in a delirium of agony, Avhich it was frightful to witness. A few had life enoudi to rise, sta^iicr forward several paces, fall and rise again to repeat the process until death ensued. I stood fascinated. 300 m THE TRACK OF THE TROOPS " God help us ! " I exclaimed aloud ; " these mur- dered hundreds represent thousands of bleeding hearts AT home, and yet the maniacs continue to kill each other as if human lives were of no account and human souls not worth a thought." " Pardon me, sir," said a voice at my side, " the maniacs who cause all this are not here, but at the place you mentioned just now — at Jiome. These fine fellows are their unhappy tools, who, with untold depths of enthusiasm and kindliness in their nature, and a good deal of devilment too, are compelled, willing or not willing, to fight for what is called ' religion and country' !" I found that the speaker was the special corre- spondent of a Scotch newspaper. As brother " specials " we fraternised immediately ; but we had scarcely had time to exchange a few rapid queries and replies when our men were ordered to advance to the attack. Very soon the ambulance corps was busily em- ployed, and I had to devote my entire energies to the wounded who came pouring in. Oh ! it was pitiful to see the hundreds of strong and stalwart youths, who might have been the glory of succeeding generations, brought in with frames shattered beyond recovery, with brave lips com- pressed to check the rising cry of agony, with eyes glaring in the terrible conflict between lusty man- A TALE OF MODERN WAR. 301 hood and sudden death, or, with nerves utterly- unstrung, giving vent to the shrieks of the maniac. Several surgeons and students among us had extemporised an hospital in the shelter of a cliff. One of the students, whose mind was in advance of his years and whose spirit seemed roused, came suddenly to me, during a brief interval in our labours. " Our rulers are fools, or worse," said he, with indignation; "what is the use of diplomacy if it cannot prevent this V I remonstrated with the youth on the impropriet\- of his language, but my new friend the " special " broke in with — " Ah ! young man, you have not yet seen enougli of life to understand it. A man is a machine which regulates itself, more or less, for its own interests. A household does the same ; a town does likewise ; so does a state. No doubt a man sometimes fights with himself — so, too, households are addicted to disagreement, and towns are often afflicted with difference of opinion, while a state is not unac- quainted with internal commotions, but, in each and all of these cases, reason and common sense prevent the people from degenerating into pure savages. It is reserved for governments alone, wlien they come into collision with eacli otlicr, to do tliat. Peoples don't desire war, my good sir, it is