There was no bugle note, no cheer, but at a whistle the men swarmed out of their trench and went uphill as hard as every they could go.

Their appearance was the signal for a tremendous outburst of firing on the part of the Turkish snipers, and a moment later the two 77-millimetre German guns which had been brought from Gaba Tepe changed the direction of their fire from the beach to the advancing troops.

As the Australians went bursting through the scrub, snipers who had crept in close during the night and hidden in the bushes and behind rocks broke like rabbits out of gorse when the terriers are put in.

They were hunted down remorselessly, and not one of them escaped. Those who were not killed outright were taken prisoners.

It was very fine while it lasted, and the men would have given anything to go on. But Colonel Conway knew the risk too well, and as soon as they had gained the summit of the cliff whistle signals from the sergeants stopped them, and the order came to dig themselves in with all speed.

It is one thing to occupy a trench already made, quite another to dig one under fire. There is no question of standing up and wielding the shovel as if one were digging a garden. Men must lie down and scratch and scrape until they get head cover, then gradually open up a narrow ditch into which they sink slowly.

'I didn't enlist as a blooming navvy,' grunted Roy Horan, who had stuck by Ken and Dave. 'Phew, but it's hot as a North Island beach on Christmas Day!'

As he spoke came an earth-shaking thud, and Ken, who was next to Roy, grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down flat on the ground.

Just in time, too, for next instant the earth three yards away in front burst upwards in a fountain of stones and pieces of broken steel. Ken felt a blast of heat and stinging sand across the back of his neck, while the concussion made his head ring.

'What the blazes?' muttered Roy, as he lifted his head and looked round dazedly.

'It was blazes all right,' answered Ken dryly. 'A high explosive shell, my lad. Lucky that it went pretty deep before it burst.'

'And lucky for me that you pulled my head down in time,' answered Roy soberly. 'Thanks, old man. I shan't forget that.'

The next shell burst behind the line, and the third still farther back. Fortunately for the Australians, the German gunners had not got the exact range, or the losses would have been fearful. High explosive of the kind the Germans use will pulverise the parapet of a trench and kill every one within reach.

The ground was hard, the sun hot, but the men dug like beavers, and within an hour had made themselves pretty safe. But there was no letting up. Colonel Conway insisted upon a regular trench of the latest pattern with proper traverses, and deep enough to give plenty of head room. The men grumbled, but some, like Ken, realised that the game was well worth the candle.

'He's looking for an attack in force later on,' Ken told Dave and Roy Horan. 'You may be jolly sure that the Turks are bringing up reinforcements.'

'There are quite enough of the beggars already,' said Dave. 'Just listen to the bullets coming over. That scrub in front of us fairly hums with snipers.'

By the time that the trench was finished it was nearly midday. The men were given a rest, and dinner was served out. In spite of the enemy's fire the Army Service men had managed to bring their stores right up to the trench, and there was fresh bread, butter, cheese, and jam for the hungry fighters.

Down below, engineers were at work, making a path up the cliff, while boats travelled up and down with a dogged and admirable persistence.

The enemy fire in front of the new position grew steadily heavier. If a cap was put up on a cleaning rod over the parapet, it was sometimes struck by two or three bullets at once. It seemed clear that the Germans who led the Turks were concentrating their forces in front of the trench, but whether they were new men or not it was impossible to say. The broken nature of the ground and the heavy scrub hid all that was going on a very little way inland.

'This is getting a bit thick,' said Roy Horan, as a fresh crackle of rifle fire burst from a wooded height about a quarter of a mile inland. A maxim carefully emplaced behind sandbags in the trench replied with a storm of bullets, but it was a poor job, firing at an enemy who were quite invisible, and a feeling of slight depression had begun to settle on the occupants of the trench.

'The colonel's having a pow-wow with the other officers,' said Dave. 'Something's going to happen before long.'

Something did happen. Presently the whistles trilled, and a sigh of relief went up.

'Cold steel, bhoys,' said Sergeant O'Brien. 'Don't any of ye wait to shoot. And open order, mind ye!'

Eagerly the men scrambled out of their trench and plunged into the scrub. In a long yet level line they went charging through it.

The snipers had not expected another advance. That was clear enough. By twos and threes and dozens, they sprang up out of their hiding-places, and bolted like rabbits. With exulting shouts the Colonials charged after them, ran them down and bayoneted them.

The slaughter was fearful. As the khaki-clad line swept onwards they left the ground behind them thick with dead bodies. They themselves lost, of course, but only slightly. Their attack was such a complete surprise, and they moved so quickly, that for a time they had matters all their own way. The Turks had no relish for bayonet fighting, and the few who did turn to bay soon paid the penalty.

For a quarter of a mile or more the Colonials continued their career, clearing the whole of the scrub of the plague of snipers. Then, just in the moment of victory, came such a blast of firing that the whole line reeled and swayed, and men fell by the dozen.

'Down with you!' shouted Ken to Dave, who was on his left. 'Down with you!'

As he spoke, he himself dropped behind a boulder which thrust its weather-stained head out of the thin grass. He glanced round and saw that his companions had followed his example.

A bullet struck the stone just above his head and spattered off in a shower of shrieking fragments. The whole air was thick with lead. It was clear that they had run into a very strong enemy force, no doubt the reinforcements which had been brought up from the east.

'Where are they?' sang out Dave, who was lying in a little hollow with Roy Horan, a few yards to their left.

'There's a ravine ahead. That's where they are. Look out! Here they come!'

The hill-side opposite seemed suddenly to vomit men. They came sweeping out in masses, hundreds strong.

'Rapid fire!' sang out Ken to his squad.

There was no need for his advice. Every man of the Colonials let loose at once, and few fired less than fifteen aimed rounds to the minute. The execution was awful. The attacking force reeled and writhed like a monster in agony.

But the officers behind, in their ugly greenish-gray German uniforms, drove them forward, and though the leading files fell by scores the rest swept onwards. To his dismay, Ken saw more pouring out behind in support. The odds were at least ten to one. It was impossible to withstand such an attack in the open.

Colonel Conway knew it too. Next moment the whistles shrilled again, giving the order to retire.

Slowly the men began to fall back. Their steadiness was wonderful. Raw troops can be trusted to charge, but, as a rule, it takes veterans to retire successfully. These Australians, hardly one of whom had ever been under fire before the previous night, retreated in such magnificent order as made their officers' hearts thrill with admiration.

Every bit of cover was made full use of, the men dropping and firing, then rising again, and gliding back to the next stone or bush. They lost, of course—lost heavily—but for each Australian who fell, four Turks went down.

Ken, dodging and shooting with the best, still managed to keep an eye on his two friends, and saw with relief that neither was hit. Slowly they worked back until they were within fifty yards of their trench.

Here was open ground with practically no cover at all.

'Come on!' shouted Ken. 'A last sprint.'

He saw Dave spring to his feet and make a dash. Then suddenly he stumbled, flung out his arms and fell flat on his face. At the same moment two Turks, big, black-bearded fellows, came leaping out of a patch of scrub, barely twenty yards behind Dave.

Ken spun round, and taking quick aim at the nearest, pulled the trigger. There was no report. He had finished the last cartridge in his magazine.

There was no time to reload. Dave, hurt but not killed, was trying to crawl away on hands and knees, but it was clear that in another moment he would be a prisoner.

Without an instant's hesitation, Ken charged straight at the two Turks.

They, intent on their prisoner, failed to see him until he was almost on them. Then one, uttering a hoarse cry, sprang forward, stabbing at him with his bayonet.

Ken's blade clashed against the other's as he parried, then side-stepping like a flash, he drove his bayonet into the man's ribs, and with a choking sob he fell dead.

Something whizzed past Ken's head, and a heavy blow on the left shoulder brought him to his knees. The second Turk had struck at him with his rifle butt, and missing his head, caught him on the shoulder. He saw a savage grin on the man's face as he raised his rifle again to finish the job and avenge his comrade. It looked all odds on Ken's brains being scattered the next instant.

Before the rifle could descend a shadow flashed across, and something crashed upon the Turk's head with such fearful force as cracked his skull like an egg-shell. For a moment his body remained upright, then it swayed and fell sideways like a log to the ground.

'Gosh, but I thought I was too late!' panted Roy Horan. 'And confound it all, I've cracked the stock of my rifle.'

'You saved my head from being cracked anyhow,' answered Ken. 'But Dave's hit. Give us a hand back with him.'

'I'll carry him,' said Roy quickly, and dropping his useless rifle, he quickly hoisted Burney on his broad back, and set off at a run for the trench. Ken, whose shoulder felt quite numb, followed, and a moment later all three tumbled safely back into the trench.

Roy laid Dave down gently on the ground.

'Afraid he's got it bad,' he whispered, as he pointed to an ugly stain on the back of Dave's tunic. 'We must get the doctor as soon as we can.'

'Let's see if we can't stop that bleeding. The doctor's full up with work.' As Ken spoke, he bent down and began stripping off Dave's uniform, so as to get at the wound.

Tunic and shirt were both sodden with blood. Ken's heart sank. It looked as if his chum must have been shot clean through the body.

'He's bleeding like a pig,' muttered Roy, as he unwound a bandage.

By this time Ken had bared Dave's back, and with a handkerchief mopped away the blood.

'Well, I'm blessed!' he exclaimed. 'Look at that!'

The two stared, for instead of the blue-edged puncture which a bullet makes as it enters, there was nothing but a shallow cut about three inches long.

'I see,' said Ken suddenly. 'The bullet struck the leather of his braces, and glanced. I say, Dave, old chap, you may thank your stars for those bullock-hide braces of yours. They've saved you this time, and no mistake. It's only a flesh wound which a strip of plaster will put right in a day or two.'

'Thanks be for that, anyhow,' said Dave earnestly. 'It would have broken me all up to lose the rest of the fun. But,' he added thoughtfully, 'I'm sorry my braces are gone up. I'll never get another pair like 'em.'

Roy burst out laughing.

'You ungrateful beggar. Here, I've got a bit of string, and we'll soon put 'em to rights. Now Carrington, let's have a squint at your shoulder.'

Ken's shoulder was badly bruised, but nothing worse, and he and Dave soon forgot their injuries in the excitement of a big frontal attack by the Turks. For ten minutes they loaded and fired until their rifle barrels were almost red hot; then the survivors of the attacking party took to their heels and ran.

After that there was peace for a little except for shell fire. This, however, grew heavier. Fresh guns had been brought up, and at least three were devoting their whole attention to the trench. They had got the range, too, and the shrapnel was bursting right over the gallant Colonials. Casualties became very heavy, and the doctor and stretcher-bearers were kept busy the whole time.

To make matters worse, another machine gun had been mounted on rising ground to the north and its fire was enfilading the trench. If it had not been for the traverses on which the colonel had insisted, the position would have become untenable.

Ken, flattened against the clay face of the trench, began to feel very uneasy. They had no more reinforcements, and if the Turks got more guns, it began to look as though the whole business would end in failure.

'About time we did another sally to look for that machine gun,' said big Roy Horan in his ear.

'Not in the daylight,' answered Ken, shaking his head. 'We shouldn't have a dog's chance of reaching it.'

'Well, something's got to happen pretty soon,' answered Roy, ducking, as a shell burst almost overhead. 'Something's got to happen, or there won't be enough of us left to hold this blessed dug-out.'

'Things don't look healthy, and that's a fact,' allowed Ken. 'Our only chance is to get some guns to work. And that's just what we haven't got.'

'And can't get, either, until that path up the cliff is finished.'

At that moment a shell pitched full into the next traverse, blowing its two occupants to fragments, and scattering their torn remains far and wide.

'That's poor old Carroll,' growled Roy. 'The swine! How I'd like to get back on 'em!'

Ken did not reply. The horror of it had made him feel quite sick.

At that moment the firing burst out more hotly than ever. It seemed as if every gun and rifle in the enemy's hands spoke at once.

'What's up now?' muttered Roy.

Ken gave a sharp exclamation, and pointed upwards. Looking up, Roy saw a big bi-plane soaring high overhead. It looked like a silver bird as it skimmed across the rich blue of the afternoon sky.

'Hurrah, a plane at last!' said Ken joyfully. 'That means business. She's spotting for the ships,' he explained. 'You'll see something pretty soon, you chaps, or hear it anyhow.'

All around the plane, the air was full of the white puffs of bursting shrapnel, but the dainty man-bird flirted through them unscathed. The eager Australians, all staring skywards, saw her bank steeply, and at the same time a long white streak shot downwards from her, like a ribbon unrolling in mid air. Then she had turned and was going seawards again at a terrific speed.

'Now look out!' cried Ken, and almost as the words left his lips the battleships outside let loose.

A score of 6-inch guns spoke out at once with a ringing clamour which absolutely drowned all other sounds, and their great 100-pound shells came hurtling inland with a series of long-drawn shrieks.

'Look! Look!' cried Ken again, as great fountains of earth and gravel spurted from the side of a hill a mile and a half away to the left. That's plastering them. Now we're getting a little of our own back.'

There was no doubt about it. The German guns shut up like a knife, but whether they were actually hit or merely silenced, it was, of course, impossible to say.

For twenty solid minutes the grim battleships and cruisers poured forth their storm of shells, until the whole hill-side where the German guns had been posted gaped with brown craters. Then they ceased, and the saucy aeroplane came buzzing inland again to observe and report upon the damage done.

What its extent was the Colonials could not, of course, know, but at any rate the enfilading guns remained silent and the worst danger was at an end.

'That's saved our bacon,' said Ken, with a sigh of relief. 'We'll get a little rest now, perhaps.'

'Maybe ye will, and maybe ye won't,' said Sergeant O'Brien, who came past at that moment and overheard Ken's words. 'But if ye want forty winks, bhoys, now's your time to snatch 'em. There'll be mighty little slape this night for any of us.'

'Why so, sergeant?' asked Dave.

'Because so soon as ever it's dark we'll have the Turks buzzing round us like bees. And the ships can't help us then, remember,' he added significantly.