Fix Bay'nets: The Regiment in the Hills

“And trust to the rocks up there being impassable to the enemy, if there is one on the stir.”

“Yes; I don’t think he could get up there,” replied the Major; “but there is an enemy astir, you may be sure.”

“I suppose so. The fact of a force like ours being at their mercy would set all the marauding scoundrels longing. Well, we have done everything possible. We’re safe front and rear, and we can laugh up here at any attack from below on the right.”

Just about the same time Bracy and his friend Roberts were tripping and stumbling along with their company, the slowness of the baggage giving them time to halt now and then to gaze in awe and wonder at the stupendous precipices around and the towering snow-mountains which came more and more into sight at every turn of the zigzag track.

“I suppose the Colonel knows what he’s about,” said Bracy during one of these halts.

“I suppose so,” replied Roberts. “Why?”

“Because we seem to me to be getting more and more into difficulties, and where we must be polished off if the enemy lies in wait for us in force. Why in the world doesn’t he try another way to Ghittah?”

“For the simple reason, my boy, that there is no other way from the south. There’s one from the north, and one from the east.”

“That settles the question, then, as to route; but oughtn’t we to have flankers out?”

“Light cavalry?” said the Captain grimly.

“Bosh! Don’t talk to me as if I were a fool. I mean skirmishers out right and left.”

“Look here, young fellow, we have all we can do to get along by the regular track.”

“Irregular track,” said Bracy, laughing.

“Right. How, then, do you think our lads could get along below there?”

“Yes; impossible,” said Bracy, with a sigh; and then glancing upward at the towering perpendicular rocks, he added, “and no one could get along there even with ropes and scaling-ladders. Well, I shall be precious glad to be out of it.”

“There, don’t fret. I expect we shall find any amount of this sort of country.”

“Then I don’t see how any manoeuvring’s to be done. We shall be quite at the mercy of the enemy.”

“Oh! one never knows.”

“Well, I know this,” said Bracy; “if I were in command I should devote my attention to avoiding traps. Hallo! what’s amiss?”

The conversation had been cut short by the sharp crack of a rifle, which set the echoes rolling, and the two young officers hurried forward past their halted men, who, according to instructions, had dropped down, seeking every scrap of shelter afforded by the rocks.

“What is it?” asked Bracy as he reached the men who were in front, the advance-guard being well ahead and a couple of hundred feet below.

Half-a-dozen voices replied, loud above all being that of Private Gedge:

“Some one up there, sir, chucking stones down at us.”

“No,” replied Bracy confidently as he shaded his eyes and gazed up; “a stone or two set rolling by a mountain sheep or two. No one could be up there.”

“What!” cried the lad excitedly. “Why, I see a chap in a white nightgown, sir, right up there, shove a stone over the edge of the parrypit, and it come down with a roosh.”

“Was it you who fired?”

“Yes, sir; I loosed off at him at once, but I ’spect it was a rickershay.”

“Keep down in front there, my lads,” said Captain Roberts. “Did any one else see the enemy?”

A little chorus of “No” arose.

“Well, I dunno where yer eyes must ha’ been, pardners,” cried Gedge in a tone full of disgust; and then, before a word of reproof or order for silence could be uttered, he was standing right up, shaking his fist fiercely and shouting, “Hi, there! you shy that, and I’ll come up and smash yer.”

The words were still leaving his lips when Bracy had a glimpse of a man’s head, then of his arms and chest, as he seemed to grasp a great stone, out of a crack five hundred feet above them, and as it fell he disappeared, the sharp cracks of half-a-dozen rifles ringing out almost together, and the stone striking a sharp edge of the precipitous face, shivering into a dozen fragments, which came roaring down, striking and splintering again and again, and glancing off to pass the shelf with a whirring, rushing sound, and strike again in a scattering volley far below.

“Any one touched?” cried the Captain.

“No, sir; no, sir.”

“I think that chap were, sir,” whispered Gedge, who was reloading close to Bracy’s side. “I didn’t have much time to aim, sir, and the smoke got a bit before my eyes, but he dropped back precious sudden. But oh, dear me, no!” he went on muttering, and grinning the while at his comrades, “I didn’t see no one up there. I’d got gooseb’ries in my head ’stead of eyes. Now then, look out, lads; it’s shooting for nuts, and forty in the bull’s-eye.”

“Hold yer row; here’s the Colonel coming,” whispered the man next him.

“Keep well under cover, my lads,” said Bracy as the clattering of hoofs was heard.

“Right, sir,” said one of the men.

“Why don’t you, then?” muttered Gedge.

“Silence, sir!” snarled Sergeant Gee, who was close behind.

“All right,” said Gedge softly; “but I don’t want to see my orficer go down.”

For, regardless of danger, while his men were pretty well in shelter, Bracy was standing right out, using a field-glass.

“Cover, cover, Mr Bracy,” cried the Colonel sharply, and as he reined up he was put quickly in possession of the facts.

“Shall we have to go back, Sergeant?” whispered Gedge.

“You will – under arrest, sir, if you don’t keep that tongue between your teeth.”

“All right, Sergeant,” muttered Gedge. “I only wanted to know.”

He knew directly after, for the Colonel cried sharply:

“That’s right, my lads; keep close, and fire the moment you see a movement. You six men go over the side there, and fire from the edge of the road.”

The section spoken to rose and changed their positions rapidly, and as they did so a couple more blocks of stone were set in motion from above, and struck as the others had done, but did not break, glancing off, and passing over the men’s heads with a fierce whir.

“Cover the advance with your company, and change places with the rear-guard when they have passed. Steady, there, my lads,” continued the Colonel to the next company of the halted regiment; “forward!”

He took his place at their head, and advanced at a walk as coolly as if on parade; and the first movement seemed like a signal for stone after stone to be sent bounding down, and to be passed on their way by the long, thin, bolt-like bullets from the covering company’s rifles, which spattered on the rocks above and kept the enemy from showing themselves, till, finding that every stone touched in the same place and glanced off the projecting shoulder half-way up, they became more bold, irritated without doubt by seeing the soldiers continue their course steadily along the track in spite of their efforts to stop their progress.

“That’s got him,” cried Bracy excitedly as he watched a man, who at the great height looked a mere dwarf, step into full view, carrying a block upon his shoulder.

This he heaved up with both hands above his head, and was in the act of casting it down when three rifles cracked, and he sprang out into space, diving down head first and still grasping the stone, to pass close over the marching men, strike the stony edge of the shelf, and shoot off into the deep valley below.

The horrible fall seemed to impress the covering party strangely, and for a brief space nothing was heard but the irregular tramp of the passing men.

“That’s put a stop to their little game,” whispered Gedge.

“Look out! fire!” growled the Sergeant; and a couple more of the enemy fell back, after exposing themselves for a few seconds to hurl down stones.

“Serve ’em right, the cowards,” said Gedge, reloading. “If they want to fight, why don’t they come down and have it out like men?”

“I say,” whispered his neighbour on the left, “you hit one of them.”

“Nay, not me,” replied Gedge.

“You did.”

“Don’t think so. Fancy I hit that beggar who pitched down, stone and all. I felt like hitting him. But don’t talk about it, pardner. One’s got to do it, but I don’t want to know.”

“No,” said Bracy, who overheard the words and turned to the lad, “it’s not pleasant to think about, but it’s to save your comrades’ lives.”

“Yes, sir, that’s it, ain’t it?” said the lad eagerly.

“Of course,” replied Bracy.

“And I ought to shoot as straight as I can, oughtn’t I?”

“Certainly.”

“Hah!” ejaculated Gedge, and then to his nearest comrade, “I feel a deal better after that.”

The stony bombardment continued, and Bracy watched every dislodged block as it fell, feeling a strange contraction about the heart, as it seemed certain that either it or the fragments into which it splintered must sweep some of the brave lads steadily marching along the shelf, horribly mutilated, into the gulf below.

But it was not so; either the stones were a little too soon or too late, or they struck the side and glanced off to fly whirring over the line of men and raise echoes from far below. For, after certainly losing four, the enemy grew more cautious about exposing themselves; and as the minutes glided by it began to appear as if the regiment would get past the dangerous spot without loss, for the baggage mules and heavily-laden camels were now creeping along, and the covering party at a word from Captain Roberts became, if possible, more watchful.

It was about this time that Bill Gedge, who tired seldom, but with the effect of keeping the stones from one special gap from doing mischief, drew the Sergeant’s attention to that particular spot, and, hearing his remarks, Bracy lay back and brought his field-glass to bear upon it.

“It ain’t no good firing at a pair o’ hands coming and going,” said Gedge. “I want to ketch the chap as is doing that there bit o’ brick laying.”

“Bit of what!” cried Bracy.

“Well, I calls it bricklaying, sir. You see, I’ve watched him ever so long, sticking stones one above another, ready to shove down all together. I think he means to send ’em down on the squelchy-welchies.”

“The what?” cried Bracy, laughing.

“He means the camels, sir.”

“Oh. Yes, I can see,” continued Bracy. “Looks more like a breastwork.”

Even as he spoke there was a puff of smoke, a dull report, and a sharp spat on the rock close to the young officer’s hand, and he started up, looking a little white, while Sergeant Gee picked up a flattened-out piece of lead.

“Right, sir,” he said; “it is a breastwork, and there’s a couple o’ long barrels sticking out.”

“Let them have it there,” cried Captain Roberts. “They’re opening fire with their jezails.”

“Yes, sir,” said Gedge in a whisper; “we’ve just found that out for ourselves.”

He drew trigger as he spoke, and as the smoke rose and he looked up, loading mechanically the while, he caught sight of a long gun dropping swiftly down, barrel first, to fall close by one of the camels, grunting and moaning as it bore its balanced load along the shelf.

“Mine,” cried Gedge. “I hit the chap as he was looking down. I wants that there long gas-pipe to take home.”

“Thank you, Gedge,” said Bracy in a low voice. “I believe you’ve saved my life.”

“Not me, sir; he shot first, but it did look near.”

“Horribly, my lad, and he’d have had me next time.”

“Think so, sir?” said the lad, taking aim again. “Well, there’s another on ’em shooting, and I want to get him if I can. Stop him from committing murder, too.”

Gedge took a long aim, and his finger trembled about the trigger for nearly a minute, but he did not fire; and all the while, evidently set in motion by a good strong party of the enemy, the stones came crashing and thundering down, in spite of the firing kept up by the covering sections, whose rifle-bullets spattered and splashed upon the rocks, and often started tiny avalanches of weathered débris.

Then all at once Gedge fired, and the long barrel, which had been thrust out from the little breastwork and sent down dangerous shots time after time, was suddenly snatched back, and the lad reloaded, looking smilingly at the lieutenant the while.

“Good shot,” said Sergeant Gee importantly. “You didn’t do your firing-practice for nothing, my man.”

“Did you hit him, Gedge?” cried Bracy eagerly.

“Yes, sir; he had it that time. I could ha’ done it afore if he’d ha’ showed hisself.”

“But he did at last.”

“That he didn’t, sir, on’y his shadder on the stone, and I aimed at that.”

“Nonsense!” cried the Sergeant.

“Ah, well, you’ll see,” said Gedge, and he turned with a grin to his officer. “I foun’ as I should never hit him strite forrard, sir, so I thinked it out a bit, and then aimed at his shadder, and it was like taking him off the cushion – fired at the stone where I could see the shadder of his head.”

“Ah! a ricochet,” cried Bracy.

“That’s it, sir; a rickyshay.”

The stones continued to fall without effect; but no one above attempted to expose himself again to the deadly fire from below.

Suddenly Bracy started from his place.

“Up with you, my lads; forward!”

Waving his sword, he made a rush, leading his men along the deadly-looking piece of road swept by the stones from above, for the rear-guard had passed in safety; and, with his breath coming thick and fast, he dashed forward, knowing full well that their first movement would be the signal for the stones to come down thick and fast. He was quite right; for, as the men cheered and dashed after their two officers, block after block came whirring down, crashing, bounding, shivering, and seeming to fill the air with fragments so thickly that it was quite impossible to believe the passage of that hundred exposed yards could be accomplished in safety. But they got across untouched, and the men cheered again as they clustered about their officers, the precipitous spot where they now stood being sheltered from the danger, apparently inaccessible even to the enemy.

“Bravo, my lads!” cried the Captain.

“Splendidly done,” said Bracy, breathless, “and not a man hurt.”

“All here?” said Captain Roberts.

“Yes, sir;” “Yes, sir,” came in a scattered volley of words.

“No – stop!” said Bracy excitedly. “Where’s Gedge?”

There was a dead silence, the men looking at one another and then back along the stone-strewed track, only a third of which was visible. But there was no sign of the missing man, and after a word or two with his brother officer Bracy doubled back, followed by Sergeant Gee, till they had rounded a bend of the track and could command the whole distance. As they halted to examine the road, another stone fell from above, struck the road, and then bounded off into the valley.

“There he is,” cried Bracy excitedly, thrusting his sword back in its scabbard. “Just beyond where that stone fell.”

“Yes, sir; I see him now. It’s all over with the poor lad. Here, sir; don’t, sir. What are you going to do?”

“Do? Fetch him in,” said Bracy sharply.

“No, sir; don’t, sir. It’s like going to a ’orrid death,” faltered the Sergeant, whose face was of a clayey hue. “You mustn’t go, sir. You ought to order me to fetch him in, and I will if you tell me.”

“I’m not going to tell our lads to do what I daren’t do myself,” said Bracy coldly. “They can’t see us here – can they?”

The Sergeant glanced upward, but the view in that direction was cut off by projecting masses of stone.

“No, sir; they can’t see us here.”

“Then here goes,” cried the young officer, drawing a deep breath and pressing his helmet down upon his head.

“No, sir; don’t – ” began the Sergeant in tones of expostulation; but he did not finish, for before the second word had left his lips Bracy was bounding along as if running in an impediment race, leaping masses of stone, avoiding others, and making for where he could see the motionless figure; of Gedge still grasping his rifle and lying face downward among the stones.

A yell arose from above as Bracy bounded into view, and stones began to fall again; while, upon reaching the fallen man, the young officer, completely ignoring the terrible peril in which he stood, bent down, passed his arms about the waist, raised him, and with a big effort threw him over his shoulder; and then turned and started back, carrying the poor fellow’s rifle in his right hand.

The yells from above increased, and before Bracy had gone half-a-dozen yards of the return journey there was a loud whish, and he stopped short, for a block of stone struck the path not a yard before him, and then bounded off. For a moment or two Bracy felt mentally stunned by the close approach of a horrible death; then, recovering himself, he strode on again, feeling strongly that it was more perilous to stand still than to go on, with every step taking him nearer to safety.

There was an intense desire burning within him to try and run, but the rugged path forbade that, and he tramped slowly on with his load, with the air seeming to his heated imagination to be thick with the falling missiles which came hurtling around.

“The next must do it,” he found himself muttering, as he went on with what, though only a matter of minutes, seemed to be a long journey, before, coming confusedly as it were out of a dream, he heard the cheering of his men, and Sergeant Gee and three more relieved him of his load, while the crash and rattle of the falling stones seemed to be far behind.

“Hooray!” A tremendously hearty British cheer – only that of a company, but as loud it seemed as if given by the whole regiment; and the next thing out of the confused dream was the feeling of his hand being grasped, and the hearing of his brother officer’s voice.

“Splendid, old man!” he whispered. “Talk about pluck! But what’s the matter? Don’t say you’re hurt?”

“No – no, I think not. Only feel a bit stunned.”

“Then you’re hit by a stone?”

“No, no. There, I’m better now. Here! That poor fellow Gedge! I hope he isn’t killed.”

They turned to the little group of men who surrounded poor Gedge, now lying on his back, with Gee upon one knee bending over him, and trying to give him some water from his canteen.

“Dead?” cried Bracy excitedly.

“’Fraid so, sir,” replied the Sergeant. “Stone hit him on the ’elmet, and I expect his head’s caved in.”

“Bathe his face with a handful of the water,” said Bracy sadly. “Poor lad! this was horribly sudden.”

Both he and Roberts looked down sadly at the stony face so lately full of mischievous animation, and in view of the perilous position in which they stood and the duty he had to do, the Captain was about to order the men to make an extempore stretcher of their rifles and the Sergeant’s strong netted sash, so that the retreat could be continued, when Gee dashed some water in the prostrate lad’s face.

The effect was marvellous. In an instant a spasm ran through the stony features. There was a fit of coughing and choking, and as the men around, always ready for a laugh, broke out, the supposed dead opened his eyes, stared blankly, and gasped out:

“Stow that! Here, who did it? Here, I’ll just wipe some one’s eye for that, here, I know – I – here – I s’y – I – er – Mr Bracy, sir! You wouldn’t play tricks with a fellow like that? Ah, I recklect now!”

The poor fellow’s hand went to his bare head, and he winced at the acute pain the touch gave him.

“I say, sir,” he said, “ketched me a spank right there. – Is my ’elmet spoiled?”

“Never mind your helmet, Gedge, my lad,” cried Bracy, who was bending over him. “There, you must lie still till we get something ready to carry you to the ambulance.”

“Kerry me, sir! What for? Ain’t going to croak, am I? Not me. Here, I’m all right, sir. Give’s a drink outer my bottle. – Hah! that’s good. – Drop more, please, Sergeant, – Thanky. – Hah! that is good. Feel as if I could drink like a squelchy-welchy. – Here, I s’y, where’s my rifle?”

“I’ve got it, pardner,” said one of the lads.

“Oh, that’s right. Ain’t got the stock skretched, hev it?”

“No, no; that’s all right, Bill.”

“Glad o’ that. Here, I s’y; I went down, didn’t I?”

“Yes, my lad; just in the middle of the worst bit where the stones were falling.”

“That was it – was it? Well, I did wonder they never hit nobody, sir, but I didn’t expect they’d hit me.”

“What are you going to do, my lad?” said the Captain sharply.

“Get up, sir. – Can’t lie here. ’Tain’t soft enough. I’m all right. Only feel silly, as if I’d been heving my fust pipe. – Thanky, Sergeant. – Here, it’s all right; I can stand. Who’s got my ’elmet?”

The poor fellow tottered a little, but the British pluck of his nature made him master the dizzy feeling, and the old familiar boyish grin broke out over his twitching white face as he took hold of the helmet handed to him and tried to put it on.

“Here, I s’y,” he cried, “no larks now; this ain’t in me.”

“Yes, that’s yours, Gedge,” said the Sergeant.

“Got such a dint in it, then, that it won’t go on.”

“No, my lad,” said Bracy. “Here, Sergeant, tie my handkerchief round his head.”

“Yes, sir; thank ye, sir. Here, hold still, Gedge,” cried the Sergeant.

“Well, I’m blest!” muttered the poor fellow; “there’s all one side puffed out like arf a bushel basket. Here, I’ve often heard of chaps having the swelled head when they’ve got on a bit; but I won’t show it, mateys. I won’t cut your company. – Thank ye, Sergeant.”

“Fall in,” cried the Captain. “Gedge, you’ll have to be carried. Two men. Sergeant, and change often.”

“I can walk, sir, please,” cried Gedge. “Let me try. If I can’t some un can carry me then.”

“Very well, try. – Forward.”

The march was resumed, but after a few steps the injured lad was glad to grasp the arm offered him by Gee.

“Thanky, Sergeant,” he said. “Just a bit dizzy now, and I don’t want to go over the side. Better soon; but, I say, did you fetch me in?”

“No: it was Mr Bracy,” said Gee gruffly.

“Oh, him!” said the lad quietly, and with a curious look in his eyes as he gazed in the young lieutenant’s direction. “Well, thank ye, sir; much obliged,” he said in an undertone. “I’ll say so to you some time. But I say, Sergeant, talk about having a head on; I’ve got it now.”

“Yes; but don’t talk. Hullo! they’re up above us again yonder.”

“What, the Dwat you may call ’ems?”

“I s’pose so,” said the Sergeant gruffly, as a stone crashed down close to the foremost man.

“And me not able to shoot!” muttered Gedge. “Well, of all the hard luck! But I owe some on ’em something for that shy at my coco-nut; and oh! I s’y, Sergeant, it’s just as if some one was at work at it with a pick.”

Chapter Four

Wounded Men

The Sergeant was right, for, after turning a rib-like mass of stone forming an angle in the path, it was to find that either a fresh party of the enemy were waiting for them, or the others had by taking a short cut reached an eminence commanding the path; and as soon as the company came in sight they were saluted with an avalanche of stones, on a spot where they were terribly exposed, there being no shelter that could be seized upon by a few picked marksmen to hold the stone-throwers in check while the rest got by.

Matters looked bad, for the whole; of the baggage with the guard had disappeared, and, to make matters worse, shot after shot came whistling by from behind, indicating that the hill-men had come down to the track, and were closely following them in the rear.

“We must make a rush for it, Bracy,” said Captain Roberts, as he gazed up at the heights from which the invisible enemy were bombarding the path. “We’ll hold them back for a few minutes, and then you take half the company and dash across to yonder rocks. As soon as you are in shelter open fire and cover, as I fancy you can get a sight of them from there. It’s waste of ammunition to fire from here, and – Who’s that down?”

For there was a sharp cry from one of the men, who staggered forward a few yards, fell, and sprang up again minus his helmet, which had been struck by a bullet from behind.

“All right; not much hurt, sir,” cried the sufferer, rejoining his companions, after picking up his helmet, the back of which had been scored by a nearly spent rugged missile, whose track was marked in a long jagged cut across the man’s right cheek-bone, from which the blood was trickling down.

The rear men were on the alert, watching for a chance to retaliate upon their troublesome enemy, but holding their fire, for not a man was visible, and it seemed useless to fire at the rocks they had just left.