Fix Bay'nets: The Regiment in the Hills

“They will not come,” thought Bracy, as his eyes were turned in every direction he could force them to sweep, and the change appeared very striking from the black atmosphere in front, and right and left to the faint light suggestive of electricity or phosphorescence which made the snow dimly visible.

But the enemy made no sign: and, with that horrible stillness as of death reigning and seeming to crush them into the snow, they lay waiting and longing for some sound – for the coming of the enemy; for the wild excitement of an encounter would, Bracy felt, be far preferable to that maddening suspense.

As he lay there and thought, his ever-active brain was full of suggestions regarding what would take place. The enemy would not dare to come, and a night’s sleep would have been lost – they would come, see them with their penetrating eyes, pounce upon them, there would be a few savage unexpected strokes, and all would be over; while poor Colonel Graves would watch and wait, looking ever for the succour that did not come.

“But he will not lose faith in his messengers,” Bracy thought, with a thrill of satisfaction running through him. “He will know that I strove to do my best.”

Then his thoughts took another direction. Why should not – after the careful preparations made – the ruse be successful, the enemy be deceived, and go in pursuit according to their ideas, leaving the two adventurers free to make their fresh departure? But that, the most natural outcome of the plan, Bracy, in his excitement, set aside as being the least likely to occur, and he lay in agony, straining every nerve to condense his faculties into the one great sense of hearing, till it seemed to him that his companion’s breathing sounded preternaturally loud.

“Why, he’s asleep! The miserable, careless scoundrel!” thought Bracy. “Those men have no thought beyond the present. How can one trust them? How easily we might be surprised if he were the watch!”

A flush of shame made the thinker’s cheeks burn the next moment, he had, in his annoyance, stretched out his left hand to reach dodge’s shoulder and give him a violent shake. But half-way he checked the progress of his hand; for, sotting aside the danger of waking a sleeper and making him start and utter some ejaculation, which might betray them to a lurking enemy, he recalled the fact that a touch was to be the signal to announce the coming of the enemy.

The next moment, as his hand lay upon the snow where he had let it fall, another hand was laid upon it, and his fingers were gripped by a set of fingers which held it fast and gave it a firm, steady pressure, to which he warmly responded, his heart beating fast, and a genial glow of satisfaction running through him in his penitence for misjudging his faithful companion.

Then the hand that grasped his was snatched away, and he lay listening and gazing in every direction that he could command for the danger just signalled to him by Gedge. Nothing to right or left, and he dared not stir to look back over the snow. Nothing in front, not a sign of any one near; and in his excitement he began to wonder whether his companion had made a mistake in his over-eagerness, for the silence was more oppressive than ever.

“What was that?”

A spasm shot through the listener, making every nerve and muscle tense as steel; his breath came thick and fast, and the dull, heavy throb, throb of his heart sounded loudly in his brain – so loudly that he held his breath and would have checked the pulsations if he could.

There was no doubt now: the enemy was close at hand, and Bracy’s fingers closed over the hilt of his bayonet with a tremendous grip, for he felt that his revolver would be useless in that terrible darkness, and he shrank from wasting a shot.

He could see nothing, but there was the danger just in front in the snow of those thirty yards which lay between them and the rocks. That danger was represented to the listeners in imagination by the figure – two figures – of the white-coated enemy, crawling slowly as huge worms might, have progressed over the snow. At times they were perfectly still, but ever and again there was the extremely gentle, crackling sound of the icy grains rubbing together with a soft, rustling sound, no more than a snake would have made passing along a dusty track.

Bracy strained his eyes, but he could see nothing. He could not tell whether the two enemies were a yard or ten or twenty away from where he lay; but his straining ears told him that they were there, passing him from right to left, and he felt convinced that others must be moving slowly from all directions towards that one point, where the helmets were placed upon the pieces of stone.

So far, then, all was right; but he felt that at any moment he might hear others coming along behind, and those might strike the very spot where they two were lying.

Thought after thought of this kind flashed through Bracy’s brain, as he tightened his hold of the bayonet, and held it point upward ready for use against his first assailant, while the strange crepitation of the frozen snow went on for what seemed like a long period, so greatly was everything magnified by the excitement through which it was mentally viewed.

By degrees, though, the creeping sound, which had seemed to stop more than once, ceased entirely, and the listeners waited quite half-an-hour, fancying twice over that they heard the faint click of stone against stone; but they could not be sure, and they dared not communicate otherwise than by a pressure of the hand, for there was still the possibility of the enemy being close in front. Though as the minutes crawled slowly by, and no fresh sound was heard, the feeling grew stronger and stronger that they had attributed the creeping noise to the enemy, when it was probably some inoffensive wild creature seeking for food, while the enemy had passed the spot in the dark, and were by now far away.

Bracy had just come to this conclusion, and had begun to think of the wisdom of crawling off the snow, which was beginning to melt beneath him from the warmth of his body, when his heart gave a leap as if some nerve had received a sudden twitch. For there came low and clear from a short distance away a peculiar sound such as might be produced by a night-bird on the wing. Then all was still once more.

“Was that a signal?” thought Bracy; “or have we been deceived?”

He thought earnestly, and felt that, after all, the enemy would under the circumstances act just as they were acting. There seemed to be an excess of caution, but none too much, approaching as they would be to surprise whoever was on the watch, and going with their lives literally in their hands.

“Phit!”

The same low, peculiar sound again, making Bracy start into a wild fit of excitement. Then there was a quick running as of many feet towards the central spot, followed by clink, clink, clink – the striking of steel on stone, and then a momentary silence, followed by a peculiar rumbling and a burst of voices.

“Gug!”

Bracy turned sharply, bayonet in hand, ready to strike, for the horrible thought struck him that Gedge had just received a tierce thrust which pinned him to the frozen snow; but as he leaned in his direction a hand touched his wrist and gave it a grip, holding it tightly, and making him draw a deep breath full of relief.

Meanwhile the voices increased, their owners talking fiercely, and though the tongue was almost unintelligible, a word was caught here and there, and they grasped the fact that every man seemed to want to talk at once, and to be making suggestions.

But the speakers did not keep to one place. As far as Bracy could make out, they had broken up into parties, which hurried here and there, one coming so near to where the listeners lay that they felt that their time for action had come at last, and, palpitating with excitement, they prepared to meet the first attack.

And now Bracy heard a sound as of some one breathing hard, and turned his head sharply to whisper a word of warning to his companion; but it was not uttered, for the sound came from beyond him, and with its repetition came the sound of laborious steps being taken through the snow, he who made them panting hard with the exertion as he came on to within a couple of yards of Gedge, and then suddenly turned off and made for the rocks.

He made so much noise now that he knew there was no need for concealment, that Gedge took advantage of the man getting more distant to reach over to his officer and whisper, with his lips close to Bracy’s ear:

“That chap ’ll never know how near he was to leaving off snoring like that, sir, for good.”

“Hush!” whispered Bracy, and a fresh burst of talking arose as if to greet the man who had returned to the rocks from making a circuit round the trap.

And now it seemed as if the whole party were spreading out and coming towards where the couple lay, for the voices sounded louder and came nearer, making Bracy gently raise himself ready to hurry his follower away: but the sounds came no closer, the speakers pausing at the edge of the snow, where it sounded as if their plans were; being discussed.

Then all at once the talking ceased, and the beat of many feet, with the rattling of loose stones, fell on the listener’s ears, telling that the enemy was in motion; and the sounds they made grew fainter and fainter, and then died out entirely.

“They seem to be gone,” whispered Bracy, with his lips close to Gedge’s ear.

“Oh yes, they’re gone, sir, at last,” was the reply.

“We must not be too sure. A few may be left behind to keep watch.”

“Not them, sir. I can’t see as it’s likely.”

Bracy was silent for a few moments, during which he listened intently for the faintest sound; but all was still.

“Get up,” he said briefly, and then started at his own voice, it sounded so husky and strange.

Gedge uttered a sigh of relief as he shook the adhering snow from his woolly coat.

“Stiff, Gedge?” said Bracy.

“Horrid, sir. A good fight wouldn’t come amiss. Hear me laugh, sir?”

“When you made that sound?”

“Yes, sir: that bit would come out, though I’d shut my mouth with my hand.”

“What made you laugh at such a time?”

“To hear them cuttin’ and stabbin’ at the rocks, sir, and blunting their knives.”

“Oh, I see!”

“Wonder whether they chopped our ’elmets, sir. Would you mind ordering me to see if there’s any bits left?”

“The task is of no good,” said Bracy. “But we’ll walk back to the place and try if we can find them. Take out your revolver. No. Fix bayonets – we could use them better now.”

There was a faint clicking, and then, with their rifles levelled, the pair marched laboriously off the snow, and then cautiously felt their way among the stones, Bracy’s main object being to find out for certain that there were no sentries left. The noise they could not help making among the stones proved this directly, and they unwittingly, in spite of the darkness, went straight to the spot where they had set up the sticks and helmets, when Gedge uttered a low cry full of excitement.

“Why, they never come across ’em, sir. I’ve got ’em, standing here just as we left ’em. Well, I’m blessed! I know the difference by the feel. That’s yours, sir, and this is mine. Talk about luck! Ha! I feel better now. Woolly busbies is all very well, but they don’t look soldierly. I could have made some right enough, but we should ha’ wanted to take ’em off before we got back to the fort.”

“A splendid bit of luck, Gedge,” said Bracy as he drew the strap of his helmet beneath his chin. “Now for our next step. What do you think?”

“Wittles, sir. Can’t think o’ nothing else just now. I should say, with what we’ve got to do, the next thing’s to begin stoking before our fires go out.”

Chapter Twenty Nine

Awful Moments

It was with serious feelings of compunction that Bracy set this example to his eager companion, by seating himself on one of the stones and beginning to combat the weary sensation of faintness which troubled him by partaking of a portion of his fast-shrinking store of provisions. For the fact was beginning to stare him in the face that, going on as they had begun, their little store could not by any possibility last, till they reached the Ghoorkha camp, and that in depending upon their rifles for a fresh supply they would be leaning upon a very rotten reed, since, surrounded as they seemed to be by enemies, it would be impossible to fire, while everything in the shape of game had so far been absent. But his spirits rose as he refreshed himself.

“I will not build imaginary mountains,” he said mentally; “there are plenty about us at last.”

“There, sir,” said Gedge, breaking in upon his musings suddenly; “I’m ready for anything now. I should like to lie down and have a good sleep; but I s’pose we mustn’t do that.”

“Not till we have crossed that ridge up to the north, Gedge. It will be hard work, but it must be done.”

“And get into the valley on the other side, sir, ’fore we go on east’ard?”

“Yes.”

“S’pose there’ll be a valley t’other side, sir?”

“No doubt about it.”

“Then, when you’re ready, sir, I am. If we’ve got it to do, let’s begin and get this soft bit over, for we shan’t get along very fast.”

“No; the soft snow makes the travelling bad; but we go higher at every step, and by-and-by we may find it hard. Now then, I’ll lead. The ridge must be right before us, as far as I can make out.”

“Don’t ask me, sir,” said Gedge. “Wants a cat to see in the dark; but I think you must be right. Best way seems to me to keep on going uphill. That must be right, and when it’s flat or going downhill it must be wrong.”

Bracy made no reply, but, after judging the direction as well as he could, strode off, and found that his ideas were right, for at the end of a few minutes the snow was crackling under their feet.

“Now for it, Gedge. You’ll have to lift your feet high at every step, while they sink so deeply. Hullo!”

There was a sharp crackling as he extended his left foot, bore down upon it, and with a good deal of resistance it went through a crust of ice, but only a short way above the ankle. Quickly bringing up the other foot, he stepped forward, and it crushed through the hardening surface, but only for a few inches. The next step was on the rugged surface of slippery ice, and as they progressed slowly for about a hundred yards, it was to find the surface grow firmer and less disposed to give beneath their weight.

“There’s one difficulty mastered,” said Bracy cheerily. “The surface is freezing hard, and we can get on like this till the sun beats upon it again.”

“I call it grand, sir; but I hope it won’t get to be more uphill.”

“Why?”

“Because if we makes one slip we shall go skating down to the bottom of the slope again in double-quick time. I feel a’ready as if I ought to go to the blacksmith’s to get roughed.”

“Stamp your feet down if you are disposed to slip, my lad. I do not want to do this, but if the slope grows steeper we must fix bayonets and use them to steady us.”

“Take the edge off on ’em, sir.”

“Yes; but we must get across the ridge. Forward.”

They toiled on, the task growing heavier as they progressed, for the gradient became steeper, and they halted from time to time for a rest, the plan of using the bayonets being kept for a last resource. But there were compensations to make up for the severity of the toil, one of which was expressed by the travellers at one of the halts.

“Makes one feel jolly comf’table and warm, sir.”

“Yes; and takes away all doubt of our going in the right direction, for we must be right.”

“I didn’t think we was at first, sir. ’Tain’t so dark neither.”

“No: we are getting higher, and the snow and ice are all round us. Now then, forward!”

Crunch, squeak, crunch went the snow as they tramped steadily, with the surface curving slowly upward, till all at once there was a slip, a thud, and a scramble, Gedge was down, and he began to glide, but checked himself with the butt of his rifle.

“I’m all right, sir; but I was on the go,” he said, panting.

“Hurt?” replied Bracy laconically.

“Not a bit, six. Knocked some o’ the wind out o’ me, but I’m all right again now.”

“Forward!”

Bracy led on again, to find that the curve made by the snowfield rose more and more steeply, and the inclination to slip increased. But he stamped his feet down as he kept on, with his breathing growing quicker, and had the satisfaction of hearing his follower imitate his example, till he began to find that he must soon make another halt.

His spirits were rising, however, with an increasing hopeful feeling, for this was evidently the way to avoid pursuit or check. They were on the ice, and to this they must trust for the rest of their journey till they were well within reach of the Ghil Valley, to which they must descend.

Slip.

In an instant Bracy was down, starting on a rapid descent toward the place they had left; but at his first rush he heard beneath him a sharp blow delivered in the glazed surface, and he was suddenly brought up by the body of Gedge.

“Hold tight, sir! All right. I’ve got something to anchor us.”

“Ha!” ejaculated Bracy breathlessly. “It was so sudden.”

“Yes, sir; don’t give you much time to think. You’d better do as I do.”

“What’s that?”

“Keep your bay’net in your hand ready to dig down into the ice. Stopped me d’reckly, and that stopped you.”

“Yes, I’ll do so. A minute’s rest, and then we’ll go on again.”

“Make it two, sir. You sound as if you haven’t got your wind back.”

“I shall be all right directly, my lad. This is grand. I hope by daylight that we shall be in safety.”

“That’s right, sir. My! shouldn’t I have liked this when I was a youngster! Think we shall come back this way?”

“Possibly,” said Bracy.

“Be easy travelling, sir. Why, we could sit down on our heels and skim along on the nails of our boots, with nothing to do but steer.”

“Don’t talk, my lad,” said Bracy. “Now, forward once more.”

The journey was continued, and grew so laborious at last from the smoothness of the ice, which increased as the gradient grew heavier – the melted snow having run and made the surface more compact during the sunny noon; and at the end of another couple of hours the difficulty of getting on and up was so great that Bracy changed his course a little so as to lessen the ascent by taking it diagonally.

This made matters a little better, and tramp, tramp, they went on and on, rising more swiftly than they knew, and little incommoded now by the darkness, for the stars were shining out through the cloudy mist which hung over the slope, while their spirits seemed to rise with the ascent.

“Have we passed the rocks along which we saw that body of men moving?” said Bracy at last.

“I s’pose not, sir, or we must have felt ’em. They must have been a long way off when we saw ’em going along.”

“Yes; the distances are very deceptive, and – Ah! stones, rocks. Here is the rough track at last.”

They halted again, for by walking here and there they could make out that there was a rough track to right and left, comparatively free from snow, and if this were followed to the right there would be travelling which would necessitate their waiting for daylight, since it was all in and out among huge masses of stone.

“We couldn’t get along here, sir, very fast,” said Gedge after making a few essays.

“No, it is impossible now,” replied Bracy. “It would be a dangerous way, too, for it must, as we saw, cut the valley when; the enemy will come out.”

He stood looking back and around him, to see that the darkness was lightened by the strange faint glare from the ice and snow around him; then, turning, he crossed the ridge of broken rocks and tried what the slope seemed like upon the other side, to find that it was a continuation of that up which they had toiled, and apparently much the same, the gradual curve upward to the mountain being cut by this band of rocks.

“Forward again, Gedge,” he cried. “This must be right, for we are getting a trifle nearer to our journey’s end, and more out of reach of our pursuers.”

“Then it is right, sir; but I suppose we shall get a bit o’ downhill some time.”

They tramped on for the next hour, but not without making several halts, three of which were involuntary, and caused by more or less sudden slips. These were saved from being serious by the quick action of driving dagger-like the bayonet each carried into the frozen snow; and after repetitions of this the falls seemed to lose; their risky character, the man who went down scrambling to his feet again the next instant and being ready to proceed. The still air was piercingly cold, but it only seemed to make their blood thrill in their veins, and a sense of exhilaration arose from the warm glow which pervaded them, and temptingly suggested the removal of their woollen poshtins. But the temptation was forced back, and the tramp continued hour after hour up what seemed to be an interminable slope, while fatigue was persistently ignored.

At last, though, Bracy was brought to a halt, and he stood panting.

“Anything wrong, sir?” whispered Gedge hoarsely.

“No; only that I can get no farther in this way. We must fix bayonets, and use our rifles as staves.”

“Right, sir.”

“Be careful not to force your barrel down too far, so as to get it plugged with the snow,” said Bracy; and then, as soon as the keen-pointed weapons were fixed, he started onward again, the rifles answering this new purpose admirably, and giving a steadiness to the progress that had before been wanting.

Consequently far better progress was made for the next half-hour, with much less exertion, and Bracy made up his mind that the first patch of pines they came to on the lower ground should supply them with a couple of saplings whose poles should have the bayonets fixed or bound upon them, so as to take the place of the rifles.

“I’m longing for the daylight, Gedge,” said Bracy suddenly, for they had plunged into a mist which obscured the stars, “so that we can see better in which direction to go, for we ought to be high enough now to be safe from – Ha!”

Then silence.

“Safe from what, sir?” said Gedge, stopping short.

There was no reply, and after waiting a few seconds, feeling alarmed, the lad spoke again.

“Didn’t quite hear what you said, sir; safe from what?”

There was no reply, and Gedge suddenly turned frantic.

“Mr Bracy, sir,” he said hoarsely, and then, raising his voice, he called his officer by name again and again; but the same terrible darkness and silence reigned together, and he grew maddened now.

“Oh Lor’!” he cried, “what’s come to him?” and he went upon his hands and knees to crawl and feel about. “He’s gone down in a fit, and slipped sudden right away; for he ain’t here. He’s half-way down the mountain by now, and I don’t know which way to go and help him, and – Ah!” he shrieked wildly, and threw himself over backwards, to begin rolling and sliding swiftly back in the way he had come, his rifle escaping from his grasp.

Chapter Thirty

A Prayer for Light

Gedge glided rapidly down the icy slope for a good fifty yards in the darkness, with the pace increasing, before he was able to turn on his back and check himself by forcing his heels into the frozen snow.

“And my rifle gone – where I shall never find it again,” was his first thought, as he forced back his helmet, which had been driven over his eyes: but, just as the thought was grasped, he was conscious of a scratching, scraping noise approaching, and he had just time to fling out his hands and catch his weapon, the effort, however, sending him gliding down again, this time to check himself by bringing the point of the bayonet to bear upon the snow. And now stopped, he lay motionless for a few moments.

“Mustn’t be in a flurry,” he panted, with his heart beating violently, “or I shan’t find the gov’nor, and I must find him. I will find him, pore chap. Want to think it out cool like, and I’m as hot as if I’d been runnin’ a mile. Now then; he’s gone down, and he must ha’ gone strite down here, so if I lets myself slither gently I’m sure to come upon him, for I shall be pulled up same as he’d be.”

He lay panting, still, for a few minutes, and his thinking powers, which had been upset by the suddenness of the scare, began to settle themselves again. Then he listened as he went on, putting, as he mentally termed it, that and that together.