The Sub, as he approached, saw through his glasses two Turks close together, leaning over and pointing their rifles down at the beach, and saw spurts of sand fly up where the bullets struck among a line of men lying prone, half in and half out of the water, in front of lines of barbed wire. One of the shells from the _Achates_ burst close to them, and when the smoke had drifted away the two Turks were still there--motionless--in exactly the same attitude, but their rifles were sliding down the rocks. He cast off the boats with the beach parties, and waved to them as they pulled past him inshore. The three snotties crowded in the stern, and looking up at the cliffs with eyes wide open, were, however, too excited to take any notice of the Orphan's shout of "Good luck, you chaps!"
Back he went to the _Newmarket_, meeting steamboats towing in boats packed with more troops. Another trip ashore with sappers and "details", and then he towed those three boats with the wounded to the _Achates_, where they were taken on board.
It was exactly half-past seven when he got alongside her, busy firing her small guns in the port battery, and her for'ard 9.2 turret-gun.
The Captain wanted to see the Sub, so he climbed up and went for'ard to the bridge.
The Orphan, left to himself, was sent off to a transport to tow more soldiers ashore; and on the way to her he saw, over against the Asiatic shore and the fort of Kum Kali, the French fleet, the _Jeanne d'Arc_ with her six quaint, squat funnels, and the Russian _Askold_ with her five thin, tall ones, and two battleships, all firing very rapidly.
Behind them lay big transports, and dozens of boats loaded with dark-coated infantry on their way ashore.
He reached the transport, got his orders, and steamed back to "W" beach with a long string of crowded boats behind him.
It was then, whilst he waited for them to be emptied, that he had the first clear view of "W" beach and the broad gully leading up to the green ridge above it.
No bullets--or only very few--came near him, and he could look on undisturbed. On the right, where the barbed wire was thickest, a row of dead Lancashire Fusiliers lay as if they had all been swept by the same torrent of maxim bullets. He knew that they were dead, because other men, springing into the water and wading ashore, stepped over them, looked down at them, and left them.