Fix Bay'nets: The Regiment in the Hills. Fenn George Manville
Now they were in May, and according to appearances they were descending into an evening that would be like June.
Matters were going on so quietly now that the two officers found time for a chat at intervals, one of which was as they passed a formidable-looking spot where the thickly scattered stones and marks of lead upon the rocks showed that it must have been the scene of one of the attacks made by the enemy from the rocks above. But there was no sign of them now, the only suggestion of danger being the presence of a score of their men left to keep any fresh attack in check, and who retired as soon as the rear-guard came in sight.
“This must be where the Major had to clear the way,” said Roberts as he scanned the heights with his glass.
“Yes,” replied Bracy; “and I hope he was as well satisfied with the boys as we were.”
“Shame if he wasn’t,” cried Roberts. “Pooh! don’t take any notice of what he said. You know his way.”
“Yes; he must have something to grumble at,” replied Bracy. “If he were with a regiment of veterans – ”
“Yes, of course; he’d be snarling because they were what he’d call worn-out, useless cripples, only fit for Chelsea Hospital. The Doctor was right: it’s his liver.”
“Yes,” said Bracy; “and when we are in camp to-night and at dinner he’ll be in the highest of glee, and do nothing but brag about how he made the enemy run.”
“Well, yes; a bit of work always does him good. It isn’t brag, though, for I believe the Major to be a splendid officer, and if we have much to do he’ll begin showing us greenhorns what a soldier ought to be. But, I say, don’t talk about dinner. I didn’t think of it before; now I feel famished. My word! I shall punish it to-night.”
“If we get safely into camp,” cried Bracy excitedly. “Down with you, my lads, and look out. It came from across the valley there, from among those trees.”
Even as he spoke, pat, pat, pat came as many bullets, to strike against the bare face of the rock over their heads and fall among the stones at their feet, while the reports of the pieces fired were multiplied by the echoes till they died away.
“Nothing to mind,” said Roberts coolly. “They’re trying to pick us off! We can laugh at any attack if they try to cross the depths below there.”
“Nothing to mind so long as we are not hit,” replied Bracy; “but I object to being made a mark for their practice. What have you got there, Jones?”
“One of their bullets, sir,” said the man, who had picked up a messenger which had come whizzing across the valley.
“Bullet – eh? Look here, Roberts,” and Bracy handed his brother officer a ragged piece of iron which looked as if it had been cut off the end of a red-hot iron rod.
“Humph! Nice tackle to fire at us. Lead must be scarce. Now, that’s the sort of thing that would make a wound that wouldn’t heal, and delight old Morton.”
Pat, pat, again overhead, and the missiles fell among the stones.
“We must stop this,” said Roberts. – “Hold your fire, my lads, till you have a good chance. One telling shot is worth a hundred bad ones.”
“Ah! Look out,” cried Bracy, who was scanning the distant grove of large trees across the valley a quarter of a mile away. “There they go, breaking cover to take up ground more forward, to have at us again.”
For, all at once, some fifty white-coats became visible, as their owners dashed out of one of the patches of cedars and ran for another a furlong ahead. The lads were looking out, and rifle after rifle cracked. Then there was quite a volley to teach the enemy that a quarter of a mile was a dangerous distance to stand at when British soldiers were kneeling behind rocks which formed steady rests for the rifles they had carefully sighted.
Five or six men, whose white-coats stood out plainly in the clear mountain air against the green, were seen to drop and not rise again; while the rest, instead of racing on to the cover in front, turned off at right-angles and made for a woody ravine higher up the right face of the valley; but they did not all reach it in safety.
The firing brought back the Colonel, who nodded thoughtfully on hearing Roberts’s report.
“Hurry on,” he said; “the shelf descends to quite an opening of the valley a quarter of a mile farther on, and there is a patch of wood well out of reach of the hills, where I shall camp to-night. The advance-guard have cleared it of a similar party to that you describe.”
“It was getting time,” said Bracy to Roberts as the Colonel rode on. “I shouldn’t have liked for us to pass the night on this shelf. Think they’ll attack us after dark?”
“Can’t say, my son. If they do – ”
“Well, what?” asked Bracy.
“We shall have to fight; but not, I hope, till we have had a comfortable meal.”
“I hope the same; but I suppose there’ll be no rest till we’ve had a good set-to and thrashed the ruffians. Why, the country seems to be up in arms against us.”
“Yes,” said Roberts; “it’s a way these genial hill-men have.”
“Fortunately for us it is very thinly peopled,” observed Bracy as they tramped along, seemingly as fresh as when they started.
“Don’t be too sure. We’ve been up among the mountains. Wait till we see the vales.”
But the troubles of the day ceased at sunset, one which was made wonderful with the hues which dyed the mountains of the vast Karakoram range; and when the cooking-fires were out in the cedar grove and the watches were set, officers and men slept well in the aromatic air; even the mules did not squeal and kick so very much in their lines, while the weary camels groaned and sighed and sobbed in half-tones, as if bemoaning their fate as being rather better than usual, for none had been riddled by bullets, fallen, or been beaten overmuch, and their leaders had taken care that they were not overloaded, and that they had plenty to eat and drink. The only men who slept badly were Gedge and Symons, the man whose cheek-bone had been furrowed by a bullet. But even they were cheerful as they talked together in the shelter of a canvas tent, and passed the time comparing notes about their ill-luck in being the first down, and calculating how long it would be before they were back in the ranks.
“Hurt much, matey?” said Gedge.
“Pretty tidy, pardner. How’s your nut?”
“Been easier since the Doctor put the wet rag on it soaked with some stuff or another. Oh, I shouldn’t care a bit, only it keeps on swelling up like a balloon, and it’ll make a fellow look such a guy.”
“Hist!” said the other; “some one coming. The Doctor.”
“Are you asleep in there?” said a low voice.
“Mr Bracy, sir,” cried Gedge eagerly. “No, sir; we’re wido.”
“How are you, my lads – in much pain?”
“Oh no, sir; we’re all right.”
“I came just to see how you are. Good-night. Try and get to sleep.”
“Yes, sir; thank ye, sir. Good-night, sir.”
“Good-night.”
There was a faint rustle as of feet passing over cedar needle, and then a faint choky sound as if some one in the dark were trying to swallow something.
“I like that,” said Symons at last in a whisper; “makes yer feel as if yer orficers do think o’ something else besides making yer be smart.”
“Like it?” said Gedge huskily. “I should just think you do. Oh, I say, though, what a guy I shall look in the morning! Wish we’d got a box o’ dominoes and a bit o’ candle.”
Chapter Five
Boys in Action
“Look at those boys,” said Bracy the next morning on meeting his brother officers at their