^4 
LAND & WATER 
October 19, 1916 
(Continued from page 22.) 
" I believe the best time would be the third night, the eve of 
the Revelation. She's bound to leave me alone that night." 
" Right-o," 1 said. " It won't be much fun sitting wait- 
ing in this cold sepulchre ; but we must keep our heads and 
risk nothing by being in a hurry. Besides, if Peter wins through, 
the Turk will be a busy man by the day after to-n.or.ow." 
The key turned in the door and Hussin stole in like a shade. 
It was the signal for Sandy to leave. 
" You fellows have given me a new lease of life," he said. 
" I've got a plan, and I can set my teeth and stick it out." 
He went up to Peter and gripped his hand. " Good luck. 
You're the bravest man I've ever met, and I've seen a few." 
Then he turned and went out, followed by an exhortation 
from "Blenkiron to " get busy about the quadrupeds." 
rhen we set about equipping Peter for his crusade. It was 
a simple job, for we were not rich in properties. His get-up, 
with his thick fur-collared great-coat was not unlike the ordin- 
ary Turkish officer seen in a dim light. But Peter had no 
intention of passing for a Turk, or indeed of giving anybody 
the chance of seeing him, and he was more concerned to 
fit in with the landscajx;. So he stripped off the greatcoat 
and pulled a grey sweater of mine over his jacket, and put on 
his head a woollen helmet of the same colour. He had no 
need of the map, for he had long since got his route by hearty 
and what was once fi.xed in that mind stuck like wax ; but I 
made him take Stumm's plan and paper, hidden below his 
shirt. The big difficulty, I saw, would be getting to the 
Russians without being shot, assuming he passed the Turkish 
trenches. He could only hope tljat he would strike some one 
with a smattering of English or German. Twice he ascended 
to the roof and came back cheerful for there was promise of 
wild weather. 
Hussin brought in our supper, and Peter made up a parcel 
of food. Blcnkiron and I had both small flasks of brandy 
and I gave him mine. 
Then he held out his hand quite simply, like a good child 
who is going off to bed. It was too much for Blenkiron. 
With large tears rolling down his face he announced that if 
we all came through, he was going to fit him into the softest 
berth that money could buy. I don't think he was under- 
stood, for old Peter's eyes had now the faraway absorption of 
the hunter who has found game. He was thinking only of 
his job. 
Two legs and a pair of very shabby boots vanished through 
the trap, and suddenly I felt utterly lonely and desperately 
sad. The guns were beginning to roar again in the east, and 
i.i the intervals came the whistle of the rising storm. 
CHAPTER XX 
Peter Pienaar goes to the Wars 
THIS chapter is the tale that Peter told me — long 
after, sitting beside a stove in the hotel at Bergen, 
where we were waiting for our boat. ' 
He climbed on the roof and shinned down the 
bioken bricks of the outer walls. The outbuilding we were 
lodged in abutted on a road, and was outside the proper 
enceinte of the house. At ordinary times I have no doubt there 
were sentries, but Sandy and Hussin 1 ad probably managed to 
clear them off this end for a little. Anyhow he saw nobody 
as he crossed the road and dived into the snowy fields. 
He knew very well that he must do the job in the twelve 
Hours of darkness ahead of him. The immediate front of a 
battle is a bit too public for anyone to lie hidden in by day, 
especially when two or three feet of snow make everything 
kenspeckle. Now hurry in a job of this kind was abhorrent 
to Peter's soul, for, like all Boers, his tastes were for slowness 
and sureness, though he could hustle fast enough when haste 
was needed. As he pushed through the winter fields he reckoned 
up the things in his favour, and found the only one the dirty 
weather. There was a high, gusty wind, blowing scuds of 
snow but never coming to any great fall. The. frost had 
gone and the lying snow was as soft as butter. That was all 
to the good, he thought, for a clear, hard night would have 
been the devil. 
The first bit was through farmlands, which were seamed 
with little snow-filled water-furrows. Now and then would 
come a house and a patch of fruit trees, but there was no- 
iiody abroad. The roads were crowded enough, but Peter 
had no use for roads. I can picture him swinging along 
with his bent back, stopping every now and then to sniff an I 
listen, alert for the foreknowledge of danger. When he 
cliose he could cover country like an antelope. 
Soon he struck a big road full of transport. It was the 
?oad from Er/.crum to the Palantuken pass, and he waited 
his chance and crossed it. After that the ground grew rough 
with b'lulders and patches of thorn-trees, splendid cover 
where he could move fast without worrying. Then he was 
pulled up suddenly on the bank of a river. The map had 
warned him of it, but not that it would be so big. 
It was a torrent swollen with im Iting snow and rains in 
the hills, and it was running l.fty yards wide. Peter thought 
he could have swum it, but lie was very averse to a drenching. 
" A wet man makes too much noise," he said, and besides, 
there was the off-chance that tiie current would be too much 
for him. So he moved up stream to look for a bridge. 
In ten minutes he found one, a new-made thing of trestles, 
broad enough to take transport wagons. It was guarded, 
for he heard the tramp of a sentry, and as he pulled himself 
up the bank he observed a couple of long wooden huts, 
obviously some kind of billets. These were on the near side 
of the stream, about a dozen yards from tl.e bridge. A door 
stood open and a light showed in it, and from within came 
the sound of voices. . . . Peter had a sense of hearing 
like a wild animal, and he could detect even from the con- 
fused gabble that the voices were German. 
As he lay and listened some one came over the bridge. It 
was an officer, for the sentry saluted. The man disappeared 
in one of the huts. Peter had struck the billets and repairing- 
shop of a squad of German sappers. 
He was just going ruefully to retrace his steps and trv 
to find a good place to swim the stream when it struck him that 
the officer who had passed him wore clothes very like his own. 
He, too, had had a grey sweater and a Balaclava helmet, for 
even a German officer ceases to be dressy on a mid-winter's 
night in Anatolia. The idea came to Peter to walk boldly 
across the bridge and trust to the sentry not seeing the differ- 
ence. 
He slipped round a corner of the hut and marched down 
the road. The sentry was now at the far end, which was 
lucky, for if the worst came to the worst he could throttle 
him. Peter mimicking the stiff German walk, swung past 
him, his nead down as it to protect him from the wind. 
The man saluted. He did more, for he offered conversa- 
tion. The officer must have been a genial soul. " It's a 
rough night. Captain," said he in German. " The wagons are 
late. Pray God, Michael hasn't got a shell in his lot. They've 
begun putting over some big ones." 
Peter grunted good-night in German and strode on. He 
was just leaving the road when he heard a great hulloo behind 
him. 
The real officer must have appeared on his heels, and the 
sentry's doubts had been stirred. A whistle was blown, and. 
looking back, Peter saw lanterns waving in the gale. Thev 
were coming out to look for the duplicate. 
He stood still for a second, and noticed the lights spreading 
out south of the road. He was just about to dive off it on 
the north side when he was aware of a difficulty. On that 
side a steep bank fell to a ditch, and the bank beyond bounded 
a big flood. He could see the dull ruffle of the water under the 
wind. 
On the road itself he would soon be caught ; south of it 
the search was beginning ; and the ditch itself was no place 
to hide, for he saw a lantern moving up it. Peter dropped 
into it all the same and made a plan. The side below the 
road was a little undercut and very steep. He resolved to 
plaster himself against it, for he would be hidden from the 
road, and a searcher in the ditch would not be likely to ex- 
plore the unbroken sides. It was always a maxim of Peter's 
that the best hiding-place was the worst, the least obvious 
to the minds of those who were looking for you. 
{To be continued) 
Union Jack Club Fund 
The following is a list of subscribers to the Union Jac'.; 
Club Extension Fund, up to Friday, October 13th : 
£ s. d. 
Previously acknowledged . . . . . . 2,727 3 ' o 
Edward George Hime, Esq. .. .. .. 50 <i 
J. Hunter, Esq 10 o 
Major W. H. C. Davy . . . . . , . . 500 
Georgina Faber . . . . . . .... 5 d 
B. E. Jones, Esq. . . . . . . . . . . i i o 
' E " . . . . . . . . . . . . III. 
Miss Mary Dav . . . . . . . . . . i c) 
W. T. Moister; Esq jq 6 
" Potato Scheme," Hinton St. George 50 
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The Editor, " land & water," 
Empire House, Kingsway, 
London, W.C. 
Envelopes should be marked " U.J.C. Fund," and 
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