Fix Bay'nets: The Regiment in the Hills

At that moment Drummond gave Bracy a sharp nudge, and jerked his head in another direction.

“More of them,” said Bracy gravely; “yes, and more higher up. Well, this doesn’t look friendly.”

“No,” said Roberts. “Look sharp; they haven’t seen us. Let’s get back and take in the news.”

It was a difficult task for the three young Englishmen to compete with men trained as mountaineers from childhood; but the living game of chess had to be played on the Dwats’ own ground; and for a short time the party of officers carefully stole from rock to rock and from patch of trees to patch of trees till Roberts stopped short.

“No good,” he said softly. “I feel sure that the beggars are watching us.”

“Yes,” said Bracy; “they have the advantage of us from being on the high ground. Let’s go on openly and as if in perfect ignorance of their being near.”

By this time the young officers were on the farther side of the stream, below the falls, with it between them and the men they wished to turn back and take with them to the fort.

“What do you propose doing now?” asked Drummond.

“I’ll show you,” replied Roberts, and, parting the underwood, he threaded his way till he was close to the deep gully down which the water from the falls raced; and then selecting the most open spot he could, he placed his whistle to his lips and blew. The rallying whistle rose up the mountain-slope towards the falls, like the note of some wild bird startled from its lair among the moist depths of the gully.

To their great delight, the call had instant effect; for, unwittingly, they had made their way to where they halted just level with the party of their men who were not forty yards away. Consequently, before the note had died away the voice of Gedge was plainly heard.

“I say, boys,” he cried, “that’s a whistle.”

“Nobody said it was a bugle,” was the laughing reply.

“But it means cease firing,” said Gedge.

“That it don’t, stoopid, for no one’s shooting. Get out! Only some kind o’ foreign bird.”

“I don’t care; it is,” cried Gedge. “Way ho! Any one there?”

“Yes, my lads,” cried Roberts; “make for the fort at once. Follow the stream down to the river, and join us there. Quick! Danger!”

There was a sharp rustling sound as of men forcing their way downward on each side of the gully, and the next minute, as the place grew lighter, consequent upon the trees being absent for a space of about, a dozen yards, there was the sharp whiz as of some great beetle darting across, followed by the report of a gun, which was magnified by echoes which died away into the distance.

“Forward!” cried Roberts. “Steady! don’t make a stampede of it. Keep to all the cover you can.”

Necessary advice, for the whiz of a second roughly-made bullet, seeking but not finding its billet, was heard, followed by a smothered report.

“I say, this is nice,” said Drummond: “and you two seem to be right. I don’t like it at all.”

“Well, it’s not pleasant,” said Roberts, smiling.

“Pleasant? No. These people may not mean war, but only sport. They’re beating this part of the valley.”

“And routing us up,” said Drummond, “as if we were pheasants. I say; I wonder whether pheasants feel the same as I do when they’re beginning to be driven to the end of a spinney?”

“Don’t know,” said Roberts shortly; “but I’m glad we came.”

“Oh! are you?” said Drummond. “Well, I’m not. A little of this sniping goes a very long way with me.”

“Ditto,” said Roberts shortly. Then, aloud, “How are you getting on there, my lads?”

“Oh, fairly, sir, and – phew! that was close!”

For a bullet whizzed by the speaker’s ear.

“Keep under cover. Steady!” said the Captain; and then the cautious descent of the steep slope – more of a passage by hands as well as feet than a steady walk down – was kept up, and diversified in the most unpleasant way by shots, till the rocky shallow where the stream dashed into the main river was reached.

Here the deep gully, down which the stream ran, had grown shallower till it debouched, with the valley on either side reduced to a dead level and the banks only a foot or so above the surface of the rushing water, which only reached to the officers’ knees when they stepped in. But, unfortunately, the last of the cover had been passed, and a couple of shots reminded the party of the danger they ran.

“Here y’are, sir,” cried Gedge, reaching out his hand to Bracy and helping him out. “Oh! why ain’t I got my rifle?”

“Don’t talk,” cried Bracy as his companions leaped, dripping, out of the stream.

“No; open out and follow, my lads,” cried Roberts. “Forward! double!”

“Ugh!” grunted Gedge to his nearest comrade; “and they’ll think we’re running away.”

“So we are, mate.”

“Yah! only our legs. I ain’t running. Think I’d cut away from one o’ them black-looking, bed-gown biddies? Yah! go back and send yer clothes to the wash.”

The retiring party had separated well, so as not to present too good a mark for the enemy, whose practice was far from bad. For the stones were struck close to them again and again, and leaves and twigs were cut from the low growth which here fringed the bank of the river, always in close proximity to where the party ran, and teaching them that not only were the hill-men who fired good shots, but many in number, the high, precipitous ascent to the left being evidently lined with concealed scouts.

“Forward there!” shouted Bracy suddenly, for Gedge began to slacken and hang back.

“Beg pardon, sir,” puffed the lad; “wouldn’t you rayther lead?”

“Forward, you scoundrel!” cried Roberts angrily; and Gedge darted back into the position in which he had been running before, with his two companions, the officers having kept behind.

“Getting pumped, pardner?” said his comrade on the left.

“Pumped! Me pumped!” said Gedge derisively. “Hor, hor! Why, I feel as if I’d on’y jus’ begun to stretch my legs. Go on like this for a week to git a happy-tight. But orsifers ought to lead.”

“Advancing, matey,” said the man on the right. “Fust inter action; last out, you know.”

“Ho, yus; I know,” grumbled Gedge; “but ’tain’t fair: they get all the best o’ everything. Here, I say, look out, laddies. We’re getting among the wild bees, ain’t us? Hear ’em buzz?”

“Yes; and we shall have one of ’em a-stinging on us directly. There goes another.”

For bullet after bullet came buzzing by the flying party’s ears, but still without effect.

“I say,” cried Gedge; “keep shying a hye back now and then to see if the gents is all right.”

“No need,” said the man on his left. “We should know fast enough.”

Meanwhile the three officers had settled down behind to a steady double, and kept on their conversation as if in contemptuous disregard of the enemy hidden high among the patches of wood to their left.

“Thought they were better shots,” said Bracy. “Nothing has come near us yet.”

“Quite near enough,” growled Roberts.

“Don’t you holloa till you’re out of the wood,” said Drummond; “they can make splendid practice at a mark not moving; but it’s not easy work to hit a running man.”

“So it seems,” said Bracy coolly.

“Here, I’ve been thinking that we must have passed a lot of these fellows as we came along,” said Roberts.

“Not a doubt of it,” said Bracy; “fresh ones keep taking up the firing. We’re regularly running the gauntlet. Surely they’ll soon hear this firing at, the fort.”

“Hope so,” said Roberts. “We ought to have known that, the beggars had advanced like this.”

“Well, we have found out now,” cried Drummond. “I say, you two; this means that the war has broken out in real earnest. But I say,” – He stopped suddenly.

“Say on,” said Bracy merrily; “we can’t stay to listen to your speech.”

“What a fellow you are!” cried the subaltern. “I can’t cut jokes at a time like this. I was going to say – phee-ew – that was close! I felt the wind of that bullet as it passed my face.”

“Miss is as good as a mile,” said Bracy cheerily. “We shall be having men out on the opposite bank before long, ready to cover us; and they will not have running objects to aim at. They’ll soon crush out this sniping.”

“Hope so,” said Drummond; “but I say – ”

“Well, let’s have it this time,” cried Roberts.

“All right,” panted Drummond; “if I go down, don’t stop for a moment, but get on. The relief can come and pick me up. I shall creep into cover, if I can.”

“Yes,” said Roberts coolly – “if you can. Now, just look here, my lad; you want all your breath to keep your machinery going; you’ve none to spare to teach us our duty.”

“Well said, Rob,” cried Bracy. “Just as if it’s likely. But you’d better go down! I should like to see you!”

Crash! in the midst of some bushes, as a single shot succeeded a spattering fire, and one of the privates went down just ahead.

“Almost got your wish, Bracy. Wrong man down.”

As Roberts spoke he and Bracy dashed to where two of the privates had pulled up to aid their comrade, who had pitched head first into the clump of growth ahead of where he was running.

“Don’t say you’ve got it badly, Gedge,” cried Bracy huskily, helping the men as they raised the lad, who stared from one to the other in a half-dazed way.

“Habet,” muttered Roberts, with his face contracting.

“Eh?” panted the lad at last, as he tried to pull himself together.

“Here – where is it?” cried Drummond excitedly. “Where are you hurt?”

“Oh, my toe!” cried the lad. “Ketched it on a stone outer sight, sir. My! I did go down a rum un.”

“Not wounded?” cried Bracy joyfully.

“Not me, sir! Yah! they can’t shoot. Here, I say, mateys, where’s my bay’net? There it is.”

Gedge limped to where it lay with the hilt just visible amongst the shrubs, and he made a dart to get it, but overrated his powers. He seized the bayonet from where it had been jerked by his fall, but went down upon his face in the act, and when raised again he looked round with a painful grin upon his lips.

“Got a stone in my foot, p’raps, gen’lemen,” he said.

“Carry him!” said Roberts briefly; and the men were lowering their arms to take the poor fellow between them, but he protested loudly.

“No, no; I can walk, sir,” he cried. “One o’ them just give me an arm for a bit. Leg’s a bit numbed, that’s all. Look out, mates. Bees is swarming fast.”

For the enemy had stationary marks for their bullets now, and they were falling very closely around.

“In amongst the trees there,” cried Roberts; and the shelter ahead was gained, Gedge walking by the help of one of his comrades, and then crouching with the rest.

But the shelter was too slight, and it became evident that they were seen from the shelves and niches occupied by the enemy, for the bullets began to come thickly, sending leaves and twigs pattering down upon the halting party’s heads.

“We must get on,” said Roberts after an anxious look out ahead.

“All right,” said Bracy. “We may leave the scoundrels behind.”

“Behind, sir? Yus, sir,” cried Gedge, who had caught the last word. “You go on, sir, and I’ll lie down here till you sends some of the lads to fetch me in.”

“What’s left of him,” thought Bracy, “after the brutes have been at him with their knives.”

“Can you walk at all?” said Roberts quietly.

Gedge rose quickly.

“Yus, sir,” he cried. “There, it aren’t half so bad now. Felt as if I hadn’t got no foot at all for a time. Hurts a bit, sir. Here, I’m all right.”

Roberts looked at him keenly without speaking. Then he cried:

“Rise quickly at the word; take two paces to the right, and drop into cover again. Make ready. Attention!”

The little manoeuvre was performed, and it had the expected result. A scattered volley of twenty or thirty shots made the twigs about them fly, the fire of the enemy being drawn – the fire of old-fashioned, long-barrelled matchlocks, which took time to reload and prime.

“Forward!” cried Roberts again, and at a walk the retreat was continued, the Captain keeping close beside Gedge, who marched in step with his comrades, though with a marked limp, which he tried hard to conceal.

After a brief pause the firing started again, but fortunately the growth upon the river-bank began to get thicker, hiding them from their foes; though, on the other hand, it grew unmistakably plain that more and more of the enemy were lying in wait, so that the position grew worse, for the rushing river curved in towards the occupied eminences on the retiring party’s left.

“Beg pardon, sir,” cried Gedge suddenly; “I can double now.”

“Silence, my lad! Keep on steadily.”

“But I can, sir,” cried the man. “I will.”

“Try him,” whispered Bracy.

“Double!” cried Roberts; and the retreat went on, Gedge trotting with the rest, but in the most unmilitary style, for he threw his head back, doubled his fists in close to his sides, and, squaring his elbows, went on as if engaged in a race.

“Looks as if he were running for a wager,” said Drummond.

“He is,” said Bracy coldly. “We all are – for our lives.”

The way they were about to go had now so markedly come towards the face of a precipice, from which puffs of smoke kept appearing, that it was evident something fresh must be done, or the end would lie very near, no mercy being expected from the foe; and as they went on Bracy kept turning his eyes to the right, seeking in vain for a glimpse of the rushing river, now hidden from their sight by tree and rock, though its musical roar kept striking plainly upon their ears.

“Rob, old chap,” he suddenly cried, “we must get down to the water, and try to cross.”

“Yes,” said Roberts abruptly. “I’ve been thinking so. It’s our only chance, and I’ve been waiting for an opening.”

“We must not wait,” said Bracy. “It’s chance, and we must chance it.”

“Halt! Right face, forward!”

As Roberts spoke he sprang to the front in one of the densest parts, where a wilderness of bush and rock lay between them and the river, and led on, with his companions following in single file; while, as perforce they moved slowly, they had the opportunity to regain their breath, and listened with a feeling of satisfaction to the firing which was kept up by the enemy upon the portion of the bosky bank where they were supposed to be still running.

“Wish they’d use all their powder,” said Drummond breathlessly.

“Why?” said Bracy.

“They’ve no bayonets.”

“Only tulwars and those horrible knives – eh?” said Bracy harshly.

“Ugh!” ejaculated Drummond. “You’re right; but if they came to close quarters we could take it out of some of the brutes before we were done for. It’s horrible to be doing nothing but run till you’re shot down.”

“Not shot down yet, old fellow. There, don’t talk; we may get across.”

“May!” muttered Drummond. “But, my word! how they are firing yonder! They’re beginning to think we’re hiding, and are trying to start us running again.”

“Will you leave off talking!” cried Bracy angrily. “Here, Gedge, how are you getting on?”

“Splendid, sir. I could do anything if the pavement warn’t so rough.”

“In much pain?”

“Pretty tidy, sir. Sort o’ bad toothache like in my left ankle. Beg pardon, sir; are we going to wade the river?”

“Going to try, my lad.”

“That’s just what’ll set me up again. Had a sprained ankle once afore, and I used to sit on a high stool with my foot in the back-kitchen sink under the tap.”

“Cold water cure – eh, my lad?” said Drummond, smiling.

“That’s right, sir.”

“Steady there!” came from the front, where the leaders were hidden from those behind. “Steep rock-slope here.”

A rush and the breaking of twigs.

“Some one down,” cried Bracy excitedly. “Any one hurt?”

Splash! and the sound of a struggle in the water.

Bracy dashed forward, forcing his way past the two men, his heart beating wildly as he reached the spot from whence the sound came.

“All right,” cried Roberts from below; and, peering down through a tangle of overhanging bushes, Bracy saw his leader standing breast-high in foaming water, holding on by a branch and looking up at him.

“I fell. Unprepared. You can all slide down. Lower yourselves as far as you can, and then let go.”

The distance was about thirty feet, and the descent not perpendicular.

“You go next,” said Bracy to one of the men. “You can’t hurt, it’s only into water.”

“Let me, sir,” cried Gedge.

“Silence,” said Bracy sternly, and he watched anxiously as the man he had spoken to set his teeth, made his way to the edge of the rock, lowered himself by holding on to some of the bushes through which Roberts had suddenly fallen, and then let go.

Hush – splash! and Bracy saw him standing in the water opposite to his Captain.

“Next, Gedge,” said Bracy.

Gedge sprang forward as if his leg were uninjured, lowered himself down till his head was out of sight of those behind, and then, muttering the words of the old school game, “Here comes my ship full sail, cock warning!” he let go, glided down, made his splash, and the next minute was standing beyond Roberts, holding on, for the pressure of the rushing water was great. The others followed rapidly, Bracy last, and feeling as if he had suddenly plunged into liquid ice, so intensely cold was the water, which reached nearly to his chin. He glanced outward to get a dim peep of the river they were about to try and cross, and another chill ran through him, for it was like standing face to face with death, the surface eastward being one race of swirling and rushing foam, dotted here and there by masses of rock. There was a few moments’ anxious pause, and, above the hissing rush of the water, the echoing crack, crack, crack of the enemies’ jezails reached their ears, but sounding smothered and far away. Then Roberts spoke:

“You can swim, Drummond?”

“Yes, in smooth water,” was the reply. “I don’t know about cascades.”

“You’ve got to, my lad,” said Roberts shortly. “What about your men? You can, I know, Gedge.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You others?”

“I can swim a few strokes, sir,” said one.

“Never was no water, sir, where I was,” replied the other.

“A few strokes!” cried Roberts fiercely. “No water! Shame on you, lads! No one who calls himself a man ought, to be in a position to say such a thing. Well, we’ll do our best. Don’t cling, or you’ll drown us as well.”

“I can get one on ’em across like a shot, sir,” cried Gedge excitedly.

“Silence!” cried Roberts.

“But I done drowning-man resky, sir, in Victory Park lots o’ times.”

“Then rescue the drowning-man with the injured leg – yourself,” said Roberts, smiling – “if it comes to the worst. Draw swords, gentlemen. I’ll lead. You take hold of my sword, my lad, and take fast grip of Mr Drummond’s hand. Drummond, hold out your sword to Gedge. Gedge, take Mr Bracy’s hand. Bracy, you can extend your sword to the last. We may be able to wade. If not we must go with the stream, and trust to the rocks. Each man who reaches a shallow can help the rest. Ready? Forward!”

Chapter Ten

A Nice Walk

“Halt!” cried Roberts in a low tone of voice; for, as he gave the order to advance for the attempt to ford the river, a fresh burst of firing arose from what seemed to be nearer, and he hesitated to lead his companions out into the rushing flood and beyond the shelter of the overhanging trees.

“It is like exposing ourselves to being shot down while perfectly helpless, old fellow,” he said, with his lips close to Bracy’s ear.

“But we can’t stay here: they’ll track us to where you fell, and see the broken branches overhead. What then?” said Bracy.

“Right; we shall be easy marks for the brutes. Now, then, forward!”

Without hesitation this time, and with his following linked in accordance with his orders, Roberts began to wade, facing the rushing water and leaning towards it as it pressed against his breast, to divide it, forming a little wave which rushed by to right and left. Step followed step taken sidewise, and at the third he and the private following him stood out clear of the overhanging growth, so that he could see plainly the task that was before him.

It was enough to startle the strongest man, for there were about fifty yards of a rushing torrent to stem, as it swept icily cold along the river’s rocky bed, and already the pressure seemed greater than he could bear, while he felt that if the water rose higher he would be perfectly helpless to sustain its force. But a sharp glance upward and downward showed him spots where the water foamed and leaped, and there he knew that the stream must be shallower; in fact, in two places he kept on catching sight of patches of black rock which were bared again and again. Setting his teeth hard, and making the first of these his goal, he stepped on cautiously, this choice of direction, being diagonally up-stream, necessarily increasing the distance to be traversed, but lessening the pressure upon the little linked-together line of men.

“We shall never do it,” thought Bracy as, in his turn, he waded out into the open stream, his arms well extended and his companions on either side gazing up-stream with a peculiar strained look about their eyes. But there was no sign of flinching, no hesitation; every man was full of determination, the three privates feeling strengthened by being linked with and thus sharing the danger with their officers; while Roberts, as leader, felt, however oppressed by the sense of all that depended upon him, invigorated by the knowledge that he must reach that shallow place. Once he had his men there, they could pause for a few minutes’ rest before making the next step.

On he pressed, left shoulder forward, against the rushing waters; feeling moment by moment that the slightest drag from the next man must make him lose his footing, to be swept downward, with the result that if the links of the chain were not broken asunder there would be pluck, pluck, pluck, one after the other, and they would be all swept down the torrent.

Had he allowed his imagination free way, he would have let it picture the result – so many ghastly figures, battered out of recognition, found somewhere, miles away perhaps, among the blocks of stone in the shallows of the defile. But the stern man within him kept the mastery; and he went on a few inches at a time, edging his way along, with the water deepening, so that he was ready to pause. But he felt that hesitation would be fatal; and, pressing on, his left foot went down lower than ever, making him withdraw it and try to take a longer stride.

“It’s all over,” he thought, in his desperation; but even as the thought flashed through his brain he found that he reached bottom again, having passed a narrow gully, and his next and next, strides were into shallower water; while, toiling hard, he was in a minute only waist-deep, dragging his companions after him, and aiding them, so that they all stood together a third of the way across, with the rushing stream only knee-deep.

“Five minutes for faking breath,” he cried, “and then on again for that white patch where the water is foaming.”

No one else spoke, but all stood panting and not gazing up-stream or at the farther shore, with its rocks, trees, and ample cover, but throwing the pressure of every nerve, as it were, into their hearing, and listening for sounds of the enemy only to be heard above the roar of the water. For the firing had ceased, and one and all felt that this meant an advance on the part of the hill-men, who would be sweeping the wooded valley right to the river-bank, ready at any moment to open fire again; while now it would be upon the unprotected group part of the way towards mid-stream.

“Forward!” cried Roberts; and, with their grip tightening, the little party followed their Captain as he once more edged off to the left, performing his former evolution, and, to his delight, finding that the stone-bestrewn polished bottom never once deepened after the first few steps, which took him waist-deep, and kept about the same level, the result being that the next halt was made where the river was roughest, tossing in waves churned up as it was by the masses of rock in its way, a group lying just below the surface, with the water deepening behind them, so that the party had once more to stand breast-high, but in an eddy, the rocks above taking off the pressure which in the shallows had threatened to sweep them away.

The water was numbing, and the leader felt that their pause before recommencing their efforts must be very short; but he was face to face with the most difficult part of their transit, for it was only too plain that this last portion ran swift and deep, the bold, steady rush suggesting a power which he knew instinctively that he would not be able to stem, and he looked downward now to see what was below in the only too probable event of their being swept away.