Cry Wolf - Smith Wilbur (книги онлайн без регистрации полностью .TXT) 📗

amongst them, weeping, embracing a man here, kissing another there,

shaking hands left and right and then clasping his own hands above his

head like a successful prizefighter and crying "Ours is the victory,"

and "Death before dishonour," until his voice was hoarse and he was led

away to his tent by two of his officers.

However, a glass of grappa helped him recover his composure and he was

able to pour a warrior's scorn on the radio message from General De

Bono which accompanied the paean of praise from 11 Duce.

De Bono was alarmed and deeply chagrined to discover that the officer

he had judged to be an ineffectual blowhard had indeed turned out to be

a firebrand. In view of the Duce's personal message to the count, he

could not, without condemning himself to the political wilderness,

order the man back to headquarters and under his protective wing where

he could be restrained from any further flamboyant action.

The man had virtually established himself as an independent command.

Mussolini had chided De Bono with his failure to go on the offensive,

and had held up the good Count's action as an example of duty and

dedication. He had directly ordered De Bono to support the Count's

drive on the Sardi Gorge and to reinforce him as necessary.

De Bono's response had been to send the Count a long radiogram, urging

him to the utmost caution and pleading with him to advance only after

reconnaissance in depth and after having secured both flanks and

rear.

Had he delivered this advice forty-eight hours earlier, it would have

been most enthusiastically received by Aldo Belli. But now, since the

victory at the Wells of Chaldi and wou the Duce's congratulatory

message, the Count was a changed man. He had tasted the sweets of

battle honours and learned how easily they could be won. He knew now

that he was opposed by a tribe of primitive black men in long night,

dresses armed with museum weapons, who ran and fell with gratifying

expedition when his men opened fire.

"Gentlemen," he addressed his officers. "I have today received a code

green message from General De Bono. The armies of Italy are on the

march. At twelve hundred hours today," he glanced at his wrist-watch,

"in just twelve minutes" time, the forward elements of the army will

cross the Mareb River and begin the march on the savage capital of

Addis Ababa. We stand now at the leading edge of the sword of history.

The fields of glory are ripening on the mountains ahead of us and the

for one, intend that the Third Battalion shall be there when the

harvest is gathered in." His officers made polite, if uncommitted

sounds. They were beginning to be alarmed by this change in their

Colonel. It was to be hoped that this was rhetoric rather than real

intention.

"Our esteemed commander has urged me to exercise the utmost caution in

my advance on the Sardi Gorge," and they smiled and nodded vehemently,

but the Count scowled dramatically and his voice rang. "I will not sit

here quiescent, while glory passes me by." A shudder of unease ran

through the assembled officers, like the forest shaken by the first

winds of winter, and they joined in only halfheartedly when the Count

began to sing' La Giovinezza'.

Lij Mikhael had agreed that one of the cars might be used to carry Sara

up the gorge to the town of Sardi where a Catholic mission station was

run by an elderly German doctor. The bullet wound in the girl's leg

was not healing cleanly, and the heat and swelling of the flesh and the

watery yellow discharge from the wound were causing Vicky the greatest

concern.

Fuel for the cars had come down from Addis Ababa on the narrow gauge

railway as far as Sardi, and had then been packed down the steeper,

lower section of the gorge by mule and camel. It waited for them now

at the foot of the gorge where the Sardi River debauched through a

forest of acacia trees into a triangular valley, which in turn widened

to a mouth fifteen miles across before giving way to the open desert.

At the head of the valley, the river sank into the dry earth and began

its long subterranean journey to where it emerged at last in the

scattered water-holes at the Wells of Chaldi.

Lij Mikhael was going up to Sardi with Vicky's car for he had arranged

to meet the Ras of the Gallas there in an attempt to co-ordinate the

efforts of the two tribes against the Italian aggressors, and then an

aircraft was being sent down to Sardi from Addis to fly him to an

urgent war conference with the Emperor at Lake Tona.

Before he left, he spoke privately with Jake and Gareth, walking with

them a short way along the rugged road that climbed steeply up the

gorge following the rocky water course Of the Sardi River.

Now they stood together, staring up the track to where it turned into

the first sleep bend and the river came crashing down beside it in a

tall white-plumed waterfall that drifted mist across the surface of the

track and induced a growth of dark green moss upon the boulders.

"It's as rough as a crocodile's back here," said Jake. "Will Vicky get

the car up?"

"I have had a thousand men at work upon it ever since I knew you were

bringing these vehicles," the Lij told him.

"It is rough, yes, but I think it will be passable."

"I should jolly well hope so," Gareth murmured. "It's the only way out

of this lovely little trap into which we have backed ourselves. Once

the Eyeties close the entrance to the valley-" and he turned and swept

a hand across the vista of plain and mountain that lay spread below

them, and then he smiled at the Prince.

"Just the three of us here now, Toffee old boy. Let's hear from you.

What exactly do you want from us? What are the objectives you have set

for us? Are we expected to defeat the whole bloody army of Italy

before you pay us out?"

"No, Major Swales." The Prince shook his head. "I thought I had made

myself clear. We are here to cover the rear and flank of the Emperor's

army. We must expect that eventually the Italians will force their way

up this gorge and reach the plateau and the road to Dessie and Addis we

can't stop them, but we must delay them at least until the main

engagements in the north are decided. If the Emperor succeeds, the

Italians will withdraw here. If he fails, then our task is over."

"How long until the Emperor fights?"

"Who can tell?" And Jake shook his head, while Gareth took the stub of

his cigar from his mouth and inspected the tip ruefully.

"I'm beginning to think we are being underpaid," he said.

But the Prince seemed not to hear and he went on speaking quietly but

with a f( -)rce that commanded their attention.

"We will use the cars here on the open ground in front of the gorge to

the best possible effect, and my father's troops will support you." He

paused, and they all looked down at the sprawling encampment of the

Ras's army, amongst the acacia trees. Stragglers were still drifting

in across the plain from the rout at the wells, lines of camels and

knots of goo NEW 40it horsemen surrounded by amorphous formations of

foot soldiers. "If the Gallas join us, they can provide another five

thousand fighting men that will bring our strength to twelve thousand