Dave glanced round.

[Illustration: '"My German friend isn't exactly in climbing trim."']

'It looks to me as if the ledge you're on broadens a good bit to my left.
You wait where you are, and Roy and I will come round and give you a
hand.'

Dave's head disappeared, and Ken sat down, with his back against the
bluff. He had had a bad shake up, and was glad of a few moments' rest. He
was quite safe where he was, for the bluff protected him from stray
Turkish bullets.

Down below, through the mist, boats were shooting landwards from the
transports, bringing more men, stores of all kinds, ammunition, and
materials for setting up a wireless installation. He saw that they were
under constant fire from the snipers on the cliffs above, and though for
the moment the haze protected them, the mist was fast rising. It was going
to be precious awkward when the full light came.

In a much shorter time than he had expected, his two companions appeared
in sight around the curve of the ledge. In the dawn light he could see
that their khaki was torn and covered with stains, while their faces were
scratched and bleeding. But both were in splendid spirits.

'My word!' exclaimed Roy. 'This is what you might call a night out with a
vengeance.'

'The night's all right,' returned Ken, 'but it's getting a jolly sight too
near day to suit me. If we don't get back to our trench before this fog