Fix Bay'nets: The Regiment in the Hills

“Don’t think they’re after us – do you, sir?” said the lad at last, as they trudged on, watching the gradual ascent of a shadow on one of the hills in front.

“No; I think we succeeded in our scare.”

“Because it makes a lot o’ difference, sir.”

“I don’t understand you,” said Bracy.

“We’ve a lot to do to-morrow, sir; and while it’s dark I s’pose you’ll bivvywack.”

“I shall keep on till it’s too dark to see, my lad,” said Bracy, “and then we must sleep till it is light enough to see, and go on again. I want to get twenty-four hours’ walking between us and the fort.”

“Exactly, sir. Be safer then.”

“Perhaps,” said Bracy, smiling grimly.

“O’ course, sir,” said Gedge sharply; “but I was thinking about to-night. Is it to be watch and watch, sir – one on dooty, t’other off.”

“No; our work will be too hard for that, Gedge,” replied Bracy. “We must have as many hours’ heavy sleep as we can, or we shall never get to the Ghil Valley. The work to-day has been play to some of the climbing we shall have.”

“Yus, sir; I s’pose so,” said Gedge cheerily; “lot o’ uphill, o’ course.”

“Up mountain, my lad.”

“Yus, sir; only got in the way o’ calling all these snow-pynts hills; but it’ll be very fine; and after getting up one there must be some downhill on the other side. Do you know, sir, I’ve been reg’lar longing, like, ever since we come here, to go up a mountain – a reg’lar big one; but I didn’t think I should ever have the chance, and here it is come.”

Instead of rapidly growing darker a glorious sunset lit up cloud and mountain, till the peaks literally blazed and flashed with the colours of the various precious stones, wondrously magnified, till the ever-changing scene rose higher, fading rapidly, and only a few points burned as before. Then, in a minute, all was grey, and a peculiar sense of cold tempered the climbers’ brows.

“We shall just have time to reach that great patch of firs, Gedge,” said Bracy; “yonder, this side of the snow.”

“Right, sir, I see; but it’s a good two mile away.”

“Surely not,” said Bracy sceptically.

“’Tis, sir,” persisted the man. “Distances is precious deceiving.”

They kept on, with the gloom darkening rapidly now in the valleys, and the peaks in the distance standing up of a ghastly grey; while Gedge shook his head and said to himself:

“Gov’nor ought to know; but it ’ll be dark ’fore we get there.”

The next minute Gedge was looking in wonder at the peculiar rosy glow which suddenly began to suffuse the great mountain. The chilly grey died out and the ruddy glow grew richer and brighter for a time, while the sky in the west seemed to be blazing and as if the glow were being dragged backward, to aid the weary messengers till they could reach the fir-tree forest that was to form their camp.

“Think there’s a tremenjus fire somewhere, sir?” said Gedge at last.

“No; it is only what people call the Alpenglow,” said Bracy softly, for the wondrous beauty of the scene impressed him. “It will soon die out again, but it will help us on our way: for you were right, Gedge; that patch of trees was fully two miles from where we stood, and we have all our work cut out to reach it before dark. If we cannot we must shelter beneath the first wind-screen of rock we can find. What about your sheepskin coat? Is it too hot?”

“Not a bit, sir; I’m cooling down fast; and, I say, there goes the last of the light. Shall we get to the wood?”

“I’m afraid not,” said Bracy. “Look to the left, and I’ll look to the right. We’ll stop at the most likely spot we see.”

“Don’t, sir. I can keep my eye on that tall tree that goes up like a spike, and hit it if it gets twice as dark. Wind feels cool now; by-and-by it’ll be like ice up here. Hadn’t we better get right, into shelter?”

“Go on, then, my lad. I was thinking of you.”

“Then don’t, please, sir; I can keep on as long as you.”

The next minute – it seemed so close – the stars were shining brightly out of the deep purple sky, and it was as if their coming brought on a cooler breath of wind, which Gedge suggested had a sniff of frost in it. But they had no time for conversation; and, making a final effort to overcome their weariness, they pressed on till it had grown so dark that they felt that it would be hopeless to persevere, for the forest could not be readied. The next minute the darkness was profound; they were no longer stumbling along a stony way, but passing silently over a thick carpet of fir-needles; the sky was blotted out as if by a dense black cloud; and there was a strange humming overhead as of the sea upon the shore. For they had unwittingly reached and plunged into the forest when giving it up in despair.

“Mind the trees, sir,” said Gedge warningly. “I’ve just ketched myself an awful rap.”

“Feel your way with your rifle,” said Bracy hoarsely. “We need only go a little farther, so as to be well in shelter.”

So, after cautiously advancing about a hundred yards, feeling their way from trunk to trunk, they stopped short beneath one of the largest trees, and sank down amongst the fir-needles.

“Shall I make a fire, sir?” said Gedge; “here’s heaps of wood as ’ll burn like hoorrah.”

“Fire! Are you mad?” cried Bracy.

“No, sir; but I was feared you’d be cold.”

“No fire, and no watch, my lad,” said Bracy. “It would be impossible for any one to find us here. Make the best meal you can in the dark; then take out your revolver, and lie down with it in your hand, as I shall. You must sleep as hard as you like till daybreak. Think you can?”

Gedge said something indistinctly, for he had begun eating, but ten minutes later his voice sounded clear again.

“Likely to be any bears, sir?” he said.

“Very likely,” replied Bracy. “If one comes supper-hunting he’ll wake us by pawing us about and sniffing. Use your revolver then, only make sure of his head. Good-night, my lad.”

“Good-night, sir,” said Gedge, snuggling himself as close as he could, and nestling among the fir-needles. “Here,” he muttered; “and I was grumbling because I had to carry this here coat. Why, it’s a patent feather-bed, wool mattress, and blankets, all in one. Scrumptious! – How my trotters aches! – And if one comes supper-hunting he’ll wake us by pawing us about and sniffing. ‘Use your revolver then, only make sure of his head,’ he says. Just as if I was going to fire at his tail! I say, though, have bears got tails? I never see one at the ’Logical Gardens as had – and it don’t matter now. Well, this here is a change, and – and – ”

The next muttered word somehow stretched itself out thin, and into a long deep-sighing breath, which seemed to be the echo of another close at hand, and to have nothing to do with the cool breeze which rushed through the pines, making that soft peculiar sound as of the sea breaking upon a sandy shore; for the two adventurers, relieved of their loads, and tightly buttoned up in their poshtins, were sleeping the sleep of the weary through that long night, undisturbed by enemy, wild beast, or dream.

Chapter Twenty Six

Human Stalking

“Eh? Yes, sir. All right, sir? I’m awake. Didn’t know it was my turn to-night.”

“It is morning, Gedge,” said Bracy as he bent over his companion, whose face was just visible in the faint grey light which seemed to be creeping in beneath the fir-boughs.

“My word, sir, so it is! I thought I was being called for sentry-go. Nights seems precious short up here in the hills.” Bracy laughed.

“Oh no,” he said; “we’ve had a good long rest. Now, then. We must have our wash at the first stream we come to. Let’s get on at once.”

“Ready in a jiffy, sir. Seems a pity, though, not to have our breakfast, first.”

“Why?” said Bracy sharply as he slung on his haversack.

“Such a nice lot o’ dry wood to make a fire, sir.”

“To make tea or coffee, or to boil eggs, my lad?” said Bracy.

“Think o’ that, now! I forgot, sir. Seemed to come nat’ral for me to get your breakfast ready, sir. Think o’ that.”

In two minutes Gedge was as ready as his officer, and he finished off by shaking and beating the fir-needles off his poshtin, and stroking his very short hair down first with one hand and then with the other, so as to look as respectable and smart as he could when going on what he called parade.

“Forward!” said Bracy suddenly. “We’ll halt at the edge of the forest, and have a good reconnoitre, though it is not light enough for us to see far.”

Bracy was quite right; for as they cautiously advanced to the open they could see very little but the tall pyramidal peaks here and there, one of which stood out more clearly than the others, and served as a familiar landmark by which to steer for that day’s journey, another which Bracy had noted on the previous evening being set down as to be somewhere about the end of their second day’s march; but it was not visible yet, a pile of clouds in its direction being all that could be seen.

“Right. Forward!” said Bracy as he finished his careful look round. “Two hours’ good walk in this cool air, and then breakfast. To-morrow we must begin to look out for anything that will serve for our future meals, and use our rifles.”

“Not try at any of the villages?”

“Villages!” said Bracy, smiling. “By that time we shall be far above any villages, and up amongst the snow.”

“Right, sir; all the same to me. I love a bit o’ sport, though I never got no farther at home than rats.”

“Talk lower,” said Bracy. “Sound travels far when everything is so still.”

Striking to the right now, and keeping near the deep gully along which the river ran, Bracy sought for a spot where they could cross to the far side, and before long they came upon a rock-strewn part opposite to where another of the several streams joined it from the east. Here, with a little careful balancing and stepping from stone to stone, they had not much difficulty in crossing to the other side; where, the minor affluent being also crossed, their course was directed up its right bank to the north and east. The side of the little ravine being surmounted, a far wider scope of view was obtained, the mountain before hidden in clouds now showing its crest in the coming sun; and, satisfied as to the course he was to take, and marking it down by the little pocket-compass he carried, Bracy pointed to a sheltered spot amongst some scrub pine, and a halt was made for a short time for the promised breakfast.

Nothing could have been more simple, nothing more delicious. For the glorious mountain air gave a wonderful zest to everything; and in about a quarter of an hour they were ready to resume their journey, refreshed, in high spirits, and with their task in the bright morning sunshine, which glorified the wondrous panorama of snow-peaks, seeming to assume the aspect of a holiday trip.

“I’ll take one look round first,” said Bracy, “in case our friends of yesterday are anywhere upon our track;” and, before exposing himself, he drew out the little glass he had brought, and swept the sides of the valley they had ascended, then slowly turned his glass upon the ridge they had gained, following it to where it joined the main valley, and afterwards turned from the varied panorama of grassy upland forest and rock, over the boundary-line to where to his right all was snow – pure white snow, which looked deliciously soft, and sparked with a million rays.

“All seems clear, Gedge,” he said at last. “So let us start. That is to be our resting-place to-night, or as near to it as we can get.”

“That mountain with a big point and a little un, sir?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t seem half a day’s journey, sir. Everything’s so clear that things look close to yer. But I know better now. Ready, sir?”

“We’ll keep a little to the left, so as to get nearer to the snow, and where it seems easy walking we’ll take to it; but for the most part I shall keep to the division-line between the snow and the scrubby growth. It will be rough travelling; but we shall not have to cut our way through briars. I’ll lead now. Forward!”

They started at once, and soon found the journeying far more rough than either could have imagined, for what had looked in the distance a pebbly track was a slope burdened with blocks of shaley rock, which yielded to their tread, and slipped and rattled to such an extent that Bracy was glad to strike off higher still, towards the snow, which ran up in a beautiful curve towards one of the nearest mountains, round whose shoulder they could make a cut which would bring them out miles nearer their goal.

At the end of a couple of miles the bottom of the snow-slope was reached, and the line of demarcation was boldly marked, the flattened, broken stones ending at once, so that the leader stepped directly upon the dazzling crystals, which filled in all the little rifts and hollows, and treacherously promised smooth, easy going for miles. But Bracy was undeceived at the first step, for he plunged his leg to the knee in granular snow, as yielding and incoherent as so much sand. Withdrawing it, he walked on a few steps and tried again, to find the frozen particles just as yielding; while Gedge had the same experience.

“Not much chance o’ sliding and skating over this stuff, sir,” he cried.

“No. It is impossible. We should be done up at the end of a mile. We must keep to the rocks and stones.”

Bracy was looking wistfully at the soft, tempting-looking expanse, when a quick movement on Gedge’s part took his attention.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Didn’t you say we must soon be thinking of shooting something for rations?”

“Yes. But it is too soon yet. We don’t want anything more to carry. But what can you see?”

“Looks like a drove o’ somethings, sir – goats, I think – right across the snow yonder, where there’s a dark mark like rocks. I can’t quite make ’em out; for I dessay it’s a couple o’ miles away; but it’s moving.”

“Wait a moment,” said Bracy; and he got out his glass, set the butt of his rifle on a stone, and rested the glass on the muzzle, so as to get a steady look.

“I see nothing,” he said – “nothing but field after field of snow, with a few rocky ridges; and beyond them, rocks again, a long slope, and – Yes, I see now. Why, Gedge, man, there must be a couple of hundred.”

“Well, sir, we don’t want ’em,” said Gedge, on the fox and grapes principle; “and goat’s meat’s awful strong, no matter how you cook it.”

“Goats? Nonsense! Armed men, Gedge, for I could see the flashing of the sunshine off their weapons.”

“Phee-ew!” whistled Gedge. “See us, sir?”

“I hope not. But they are going in a direction which will take them right across our road just at the same time as we reach the spot.”

“That’s awk’ard, sir. But I thought we’d been getting high up here because there’d be no people to hinder us.”

“So I thought, my lad; but this is an exception. These people are crossing the mountain-passes, possibly to join the tribes besieging the fort.”

“And what about them yonder?” said Gedge, nodding to the right.

“What! You don’t mean to say that you can see more in that direction?”

As Bracy spoke he snatched out the glass he was replacing, and held it half-way to his eyes, for he did not need it. The object seen was too plain against the sky-line, where a few tiny figures could be seen, and trailing down a slope from them towards the east was a long, white, irregular line, which the glass directly after proved to be a strong body of followers.

“Same sort, sir?” said Gedge coolly.

“Yes; going as if to cut us off. Gedge, we must start back into the little valley, and follow it up, so as to get into another. It means miles more to tramp; but we can do nothing in this direction.”

“Right, sir. When you’re ready.”

“But we can’t walk right away, for these last would see us. We must crawl for a few yards to those rocks below there.”

The next minute they were on all-fours, crawling from stone to stone – a laborious task, laden as they were; but, short as the distance was, they had not half-covered it before Bracy whispered sharply:

“Flat down. Perhaps they have not seen us.”

“Not they, sir. They were too far off.”

“Hush! Don’t you see – right in front, four or five hundred yards away – those four men stalking us? Why, Gedge, they see our coats as we crawl, and are taking us for sheep.”

“Ah-h!” ejaculated Gedge, as for the first time he realised the fresh danger threatening them, in the shape of a little party, evidently coming from the direction of their last night’s resting-place. As he saw that one of them had thrown himself down, and, dragging his gun after him, was making for a heap of stones, from whence he evidently intended to fire, Gedge prepared to meet the shot in military fashion.

“Trying to stalk us, sir. You’re right; that’s it. Give me the word, and I’ll open fire. He’ll think he never stalked such a sheep as me before.”

“It was my fancy, Gedge,” said Bracy. “They belong to the party whom we scattered yesterday, and they’ve been following on our track. Quick! we must have first fire.”

The last words had not quitted his lips when Gedge’s rifle cracked, and the danger was averted, for the man’s long gun dropped from his hands as he sprang up, crawling though he was, into a curious position on all-fours, rolled over on to his side, and them back again, to spring to his feet, and run as hard as he could after his companions, who had already taken to their heels.

“That’s a bad shot, and no mistake, sir,” said Gedge.

“The best you ever made, Gedge,” cried Bracy; “for it has done all we required.”

“Took him in the arm, sir, and spoiled his shooting for a month, I know. As good as killing him, I s’pose.”

“Better,” said Bracy. “We don’t want the poor wretch’s life; only to save our own. Now, what next? We’d better lie still for a bit to see if they rally and come on again.”

“Yes, sir,” said Gedge, watching the retreating party, and fiddling with the sighting of his rifle – “five hundred yards – six – eight,” – and last of all “thousand. I think I could send a bullet among their legs, sir. Shall I? Let ’em see that they’d better keep their distance.”

“Try and scatter the stones close to them,” replied Bracy. And as he lay upon his chest, with his feet raised and legs crossed, Gedge took a long and careful aim, pressed the trigger gently, and the next moment the retreating party bounded apart, scattering, and running swiftly on.

“Another good shot,” said Bracy; “though I could not see where it struck; it is evident that it did strike close to their feet.”

The glass was in the young officer’s hand, and he followed the enemy’s movements with it, seeing the little party close up again, and then make for a ridge in the distance – one which threatened to conceal them as soon as it was passed; but there was something else to see, for all at once the solitude of the elevation was broken by a figure springing into sight, to be followed by a large group, who began to descend slowly to meet the retreating four; and of their movements Bracy kept his companion aware with a word or two at intervals, without changing his position or removing his glass from his eye.

“They’re close together now – the last man has joined them – they’re looking in this direction – they’ve turned round, and are going up the slope again. Ha! the last man has passed over – gone.”

“Would you mind having a look at the other two lots now, sir, to see what they’re doing?” said Gedge quietly.

The little glass was slowed round on the instant, and Bracy examined the party to the right, and then, turning to the left, made a long examination of the danger there, before closing the glass again.

“They are keeping steadily on along those slopes, Gedge, as if to converge some miles farther on.”

“Hadn’t we better play the same game, sir?” said Gedge quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“Do a bit o’ converging, sir, whatever it is.”

“I don’t set; how we can at present,” replied Bracy, laughing sadly. “No. It seems as if the only thing left for us to do is to lie still here till the coast is clear – I mean, the enemy out of sight; then keep on cautiously, and trust to getting beyond them in the darkness. It is terribly unfortunate, Gedge.”

“’Tis, sir, and wastes so much time. Think they have seen us?”

“No.”

“Nor those chaps as was stalking us?”

“The distance is too great unless they have powerful glasses.”

“That’s good, sir. Then all we’ve got to mind is those chaps we’ve been skirmishing with. They’ll be like the rest of ’em, I expect – hanging after us till they can get a shot.”

“Yes; and I’m afraid that they will descend into yon little side valley to try and get ahead of us, so as to lie in wait, farther on.”

“Like as not, sir. Just the sort of mean thing they would do, never stopping to think as we could easily have shot their chief in the back when we were in ambush, just as I could have dropped that chap in his tracks just now. I don’t want to brag, sir; but I could.”

“It is not boasting, my lad,” said Bracy. “You have your marks for good shooting. But we must countermarch those fellows. We have nearly a mile the start of them, and I don’t suppose those two bodies of men are likely to take any notice of such a pair of rough-looking objects as we are; so come along.”

“Which way, sir?”

“Straight for our mountain yonder. What we want is a deep gully into which we could plunge, and then we could walk fast or run part of the way.”

“And hide again, sir? Well, it’ll be strange if in all this great mountainy place we can’t puzzle those fellows behind.”

“We can, Gedge,” said Bracy, “if once we get out of their sight.”

“So we are now, sir.”

“We don’t know that. Several pairs of keen eyes may be watching our movements, for I dare say as soon as we stand up our figures will show plainly against the snow. But we must risk all that. There, we must chance it now, so let’s get on our way.”

Bracy took another good look round with his glass from where he lay upon his chest among the stones; and though the enemy looked distant, the mountain he had marked down seemed to have doubled its remoteness, and the snowy passes and peaks which moved slowly across the field of his glass raised themselves up like so many terrible impediments to the mission he had set himself to carry through. Only a brief inspection, but there was time enough for a rush of thoughts to sweep to his brain, all of which looked dim and confused in the cloud of doubt which arose as to the possibility of reaching the Ghil Valley.

It was horrible, for he could see in imagination the scene at the fort, where all were gathered to see him off, and every eye was brightened with the hope its owner felt; each countenance looked full of trust in one who, they felt sure, would bring back success, and save the fort in its terrible time of need. While now a cold chill seemed to be stealing through him, and failure was staring him in the face.

A quick mental and bodily effort, a blush of shame suffusing his face, and he was himself again – the young soldier ready for any emergency; and the next minute he was biting his lip with vexation at his momentary weakness. For there was Gedge watching him patiently, his follower who looked up to him for help and guidance – his man ready to obey him to the death, but, on the other hand, who looked for the payment of being cared for and protected, and not having his services misused by the cowardly action of a superior.

“It is just as I felt that day when I was swimming a mile from shore,” he said to himself. “I felt that same chill, and thought that there was nothing for me to do but give up and drown. Then the same feeling of shame at my cowardice attacked me, and I struck out quietly, and went on and on to land. The fort is my land this time, and I’m going to reach it again by being cool. Oh, what a brain and power of self-control a General must possess to master all his awful responsibilities! but he does, and leads his men to victory against tremendous odds; while here I have but my one man to lead, and am staggered at a difficulty that may dissolve like a mist. Gedge!”

“Sir?”

“Forward for that patch of rocks a quarter of a mile away in front, without hesitation or turning to look back.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Once there, I’ll bring the glass to bear again on our rear. Make a bee-line for it, as if you were going to take up new ground for your company. Once there, we can make for another and another, and if we are pursued each clump of rocks will make us breastworks or rifle-pits. Up! Forward!”