’Socked ’em that time,’ remarked Dave, with great satisfaction.

‘Sure, that was only the overture!’ answered O’Brien.  ’They were just thrying their luck, so to spake.’

Again he was right.  As soon as the survivors of the first attack had retreated the air became thick with the shriek and moan of shrapnel, and the vicious whizz of Mauser bullets.  This went on for nearly an hour, then a second attack materialised.

It was in heavier force than the first, and though the steady fire of the Colonials did tremendous execution, some of the Turks actually reached the trench and came plunging in, stabbing wildly with their short bayonets.

Not one of them ever got out again, but they did a good deal of damage, and during the lull that followed the stretcher-bearers were busy.  Five separate times during the hours of darkness did fresh masses of Turks sweep down upon the worn and weary Colonials, and twice parties of the latter counter-attacked and drove the survivors helter-skelter before them.

‘Jove, I never was gladder to see daylight,’ said Ken hoarsely, as a pale yellow light began to dim the stars.  His eyes stung with powder smoke, his mouth was sour with fatigue, and every muscle in his body ached.

‘Well, lad, we’ve made good, anyway,’ said O’Brien with a smile on his blackened face.  ‘Just take a peep over, and see what ye can see.’

Ken raised his head cautiously and peered through the embrasure in front.  The sight that met his eyes was a terrible one.  The scrub for nearly a hundred yards in front of the trench had almost vanished.  It had been literally mown down by the storm of bullets which had raged across it all night long.  And all the open space was paved with the bodies of dead and wounded men.  There were hundreds of them, some on their faces, some on their backs, most of them still enough, a few trying to crawl away, and others moaning feebly.

It was a horrible sight, and for the moment Ken felt almost sick.

‘They’ll not thry it again just yet,’ said O’Brien quietly.  ’The next attack will be one in force, and for that they’ll need more men than they’ve left here.’

‘And we’ll be ready for them then, eh, sergeant?’ said Roy Horan cheerfully.  ‘There’s more than ourselves been busy during the night.’

As he spoke he pointed over in the other direction, and Ken, with difficulty withdrawing his eyes from the scene of slaughter in front, looked back down the cliff.

A cry of delight escaped him.  A regular road had been made, curving all the way up the cliff, and two field guns had been brought up, and set in position.  In spite of the enemies’ fire, all sorts of stores had come ashore in the night, and the camp cooks were already busy preparing breakfast.

It was the first hot meal that any of the men had had for thirty-six hours, and it did them all the good in the world.  When it was over they were told to take what sleep they could.