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Updated: June 25, 2025
After this came four misses in succession, to the unspeakable disgust of all hands, who chaffed poor Mason so unmercifully that he almost lost his temper over it. The skipper thought the opportunity a good one to serve out a glass of grog to the gun's crew, which had the effect of restoring harmony; and presently Long Tom began to speak again.
But what had my friend of the sand-bags to do with the matter? He moved among the gun's crew, and none said him nay; his hands were on the gun after the accredited gunlayer's. We shelled another position, and then another. Afterwards came a lull, and some of us hurried up to breakfast. There was much talk there of the possible or probable slaughter we had effected.
I dare you to come out from behind your tree, and take a shot with me in the open, accordin' to Hardee's tactics. Your gun's empty; so's mine. My chum here'll see fair play; and you kin bring your chum with you. Come out, you skulkin' brindle pup, and shoot man fashion, if you dare." "Ye can't dare me, ye nigger-stealin' blue-belly," shouted the rebel in return, coming out from behind his tree.
Then, across the bend, from the deserted houses of Shanty Town, sounded the long, soul-chilling howl of a dog. A broken crutch lying close to the shack on the river side, a blood-bespattered pane in the window just above, a rifle ball, embedded deep at a gun's length beyond the pane these were the traces that, on the following morning, gave an inkling of a deadly clash.
"You don't think any accident would happen to me, do you?" "Well, no er I wouldn't advise yuh to go ridin'," Jim said thoughtfully. "This here gun's kinda techy, anyway, unless you're used to a quick trigger. Yuh might be safer without than with it." By the time she was ready, Jim was tying his horse, Snake, to the corral.
We were chatting peacefully, when suddenly I recollect hearing the big gun's well-known report, and was just going to remark, "How near that sounds!" when a terrifying din immediately above our heads stopped all power of conversation, or even of thought, and the next instant I was aware that masses of falling brick and masonry were pushing me out of my chair, and that heavy substances were falling on my head; then all was darkness and suffocating dust.
"Why should I do that?" asked Ware, considerably mystified. "To see if your weapon is in order, of course." "How would a fool trick like that show whether my gun's in shape?" "Hanged if I know," confessed Bob, "but they always do that in books and on the stage." "Well, my gun will shoot," said Ware, shortly.
Yet the men fought on until exhausted, and then fell to suffer through a death struggle which continued from twenty-four hours to three days of suffocating agony. The German artillery kept up its almost incessant pounding of the British. In short lulls of the big gun's work the German infantry hurled itself against the trenches on the hill, using hand grenades and bombs.
"You never heard of me starting any rough stuff when there was a pinch coming off, did you?" "That's true," said the detective; "but when a gun's just bumped off one guy he's liable to get the habit of bumping off other guys. Even a swell gun like you is. So that's why I've been just a trifle particular." "You're crazy, man! Who says I bumped anybody off?"
Meanwhile the right flank was sweeping round towards the main battery in expectation of meeting with some resistance from the gun's crew of "Big Ben of Little Bulwaan." That weapon had, in virtue of similar qualities, succeeded to "Long Tom's" second title, but did not live long to enjoy it.
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