Fools' Harvest. Erle Cox
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Название: Fools' Harvest

Автор: Erle Cox

Издательство: Bookwire

Жанр: Языкознание

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isbn: 4064066387532

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СКАЧАТЬ he said, and his voice was hoarse, "Unless my brother Ted has gone completely bughouse, thirty-five big monoplanes have blown in from nowhere, and blasted the forts at the Heads out of existence."

      "How from nowhere? It sounds crazy."

      "He says they came straight in from dead east. He saw them come. There is not a ship in sight on the horizon. They were flying low over the water, and only took elevation about a mile out. They seemed to know every gun emplacement, and fairly plastered them with bombs. Then they turned, and went back the way they came. He says there isn't a whole pane of glass left in Manly."

      "Did you say a red diamond on a black square?" I said breathlessly.

      He nodded.

      "And that means—!"

      "It does my boy, and it means there's a fleet waiting below the horizon, and we're for it." He sat drumming with his fingers on the edge of the table.

      "That accounts for the Hawkesbury bridge," I muttered.

      Don stared at me without answering. Then suddenly he jumped to his feet and exclaimed, "Great scot! the water! Do you know anyone in the Water Board Office?"

      I grabbed the telephone and dialled as well as my shaking fingers would let me. I almost squealed with impatience at the delay in getting my man. When I heard his voice, I said. "Burton, Express here, Williams, what's the dope about there being no water in the taps?"

      "How on earth did you hear about it?" the voice demanded.

      "Come clean!" managed to laugh.

      "Well, the 'Herald' has it, too! Every one of the 72 inch mains from Prospect Reservoir was blasted out in three places beyond the Liverpool Road early this morning. There's hell to pay here."

      "Nothing to what there's going to be," I said as I hung up.

      As I broke the news to Don he looked round the room, and said, "Well Wally, we're having a very nice day for it, whatever it may be. I suppose we carry on nobly—two blinkin' Casabianeas!"

      "Rule me out for five minutes and then I'm with you." I picked up the telephone and dialled my home. Gwen herself, eager and anxious, answered. I cut short her excited questions about the explosions. "Listen, Gwen," I said earnestly, "Get the car out. Don't stop to pack, but throw anything you value that is small into the back seat. Take some milk and clothes for Bunty and yourself, and then get away as soon as you can. Go through French's Forest to Hornsby. Don't mind speed limits. Dodge back from Hornsby by the Galston Road to Windsor. Wait there, and I'll try to get to you."

      "Wally, why?"

      "Afraid the city will be bombarded. Don't go near it for a short cut. Don't go near it on any account. Have you any money?"

      "Yes, about seven pounds, but what about you?"

      "Don't ask questions. Get to it, join you as soon as I can. Promise, Gwen!"

      "All right. But are you sure?"

      "Hope I'm wrong. But hurry and don't talk." I cut her off to ensure her obedience.

      Said Don as I turned round, "Thank God I'm a bachelor, and all my people are at Yass, except Ted."

      As he was speaking, the 'phone rang again. He beat me in the grab for it.

      I watched the tense expression on his face as he listened after saying, "Yes, Ted." It was his brother again. Presently he snapped "Can't you make out their number?" "Certain to be!" "Less than half an hour!" "God only knows." "I would if I were you." "Get while the going's good." He hung up and said, "There's a whole mob of ships coming over the horizon. Can't make out how many. Ted's going to do a bunk. Don't blame him!"

      We looked blankly at one another. "Great Scot!" I said. "If they start shooting into the city! It's absolutely packed with people—"

      "Yes, and it won't take them much more than half an hour to get in range," Don jerked out. "We might warn them."

      "Someone's sure to be doing it! The evening papers will have out extraordinaries," I said. "Try the wireless stations and the Town Hall."

      We each took a telephone, but it wart no use. Every number we tried was engaged—Parliament House among them. It was a good sign. Someone must be hard at it. I may say here that although it was barely 12 o'clock, the news was spreading like wild fire. Both the Government and the Town Hall had ordered all broadcasting stations to keep repeating an appeal to empty the city as soon as possible.

      My anxiety about Gwen and Bunty increased. I wanted to make sure she had got away. I told Don—and added that if they bombarded the city the odds were against any newspapers coming out. Anyway I would come back and chance it after I had been home.

      We made the office the rendezvous, and I left, Don saying he would stick it out, whatever might come.

      When I reached the street it looked more like a disturbed ant hill than anything else. There was panic in the air, but the beginning of it only. Though the warnings were being broadcast, they had barely begun to take effect. But when I turned into Martin Place on my way to the Wynyard station, the confusion was apparent. I stopped for nothing, though excited voices were rising round me. I felt if the crowd once began to surge into the streets progress would be impossible. Remember, it was not much more than fifteen minutes since the sound of the first bombing had died down. It was not until I reached George Street, and was within 50 yards of the station that I encountered the first definite warning. A newsboy was running along the opposite foot path with a news placard: WARNING!—EVACUATE CITY!!—HURRY!!! As his message caught my eye he decided to take his own advice, for he dropped his placard and sprang for a west bound tram.

      By good luck, as I dodged through the fast-growing crowd in the underground entrance, I found a Spit tram on the point of starting. It was filled almost to capacity with an excited crowd of passengers, few of whom seemed to know or realise what had happened. As we passed out of the tunnel on to the Harbour Bridge, I turned my eyes down toward the Heads. The Harbour was flooded with sunshine. The whole scene was as quiet and untroubled as always—serene, peaceful and beautiful. Close to Garden Island I saw one of the cruisers, probably the Adelaide, but not the Canberra. Three destroyers were behind the island. A motor pinnace with a foaming wake was making towards the cruiser, and the last thing I noticed was a hoist of signal flags on her mast.

      Never did a tram seem to move so slowly as that I had boarded. It stopped at every halt, and it was blocked by an increasing number of motor cars making towards the city. But even so the scene did not seem to warrant the sense of desperate anxiety that came over me. I was mentally calculating the possibilities, and the length of time to spare before the attack could come within range. Not for one minute did I doubt that it was coming. All the way I was turning ray eyes back over the city wondering why no planes of ours were on their way, Still I hoped that we had an hour of grace.

      When it came the shock was physical. We had just reached Cremorne junction when, from over the Chintart rise, there came a series of sharp detonations, followed almost instantly by smashing explosions apparently close ahead of us. The tram halted with a jerk There were not more than a dozen passengers left. A woman began to scream. We jumped off into the street. The explosions continued, and smoke began to rise over the houses in the distance. As we stood there was a series of terrific bursts among the massed dwellings of Cremorne and Mosman.

      Everyone seemed to be yelping at the motor man or the conductor. The street СКАЧАТЬ