Fix Bay'nets: The Regiment in the Hills

“And bravely,” said Colonel Graves, bowing, with a show of deference, towards his senior.

“Thank you,” said the latter simply. “We have done our best.”

He turned away, to begin using his glass, sweeping the different ravines – dark, savage-looking gorges which disembogued upon the smiling, garden-like expanse on both sides of the river, and seeming strangely in contrast, with their stony sides, to the tree-besprinkled verdure and lovely groves of the little plain not more than a mile long by half that space wide.

“Hah! I thought the visit would not be long deferred,” said Colonel Wrayford, lowering the glass and pointing to a thin line of white figures slowly coming into sight and winding down a zigzag path on one side of the gorge, through which the river came down from the mountains beyond.

“I see,” said Colonel Graves; “but I was watching those ravines to right and left.”

“Yes; the enemy is changing his tactics to-day. You see, he does not mean us to have much rest.”

The bugles rang out at the first appearance of the enemy, and the walls were manned with a strength to which they had been foreign; and as the two Colonels walked round and supervised the arrangements, the senior asked whether the new-comers could shoot.

“Admirably,” said Colonel Graves, and then, with a smile – “at the target; they have to prove what they can really do now.”

“They will have every opportunity, and from behind strong walls.”

Meanwhile the white-robed enemy came streaming down to the plain in the most fearless manner, till they were well within shot, and still they came on.

“This seems strange,” said Colonel Wrayford; “they have generally begun firing before this.”

“They look more like friends than enemies,” observed Colonel Graves.

“They may look so,” replied the other as he scanned the advancing force, “but we have no friends among these tribes. They are all deeply imbued with the Mussulman’s deadly hatred of the Christian, and only when firmly held down by force do they submit to the stronger power. Unfortunately they have broken out, and we have had enough to do to hold our own, while the very fact of one tribe boldly shutting us in has made half-a-dozen others forget their own enmity among themselves and come to their aid.”

Meanwhile Captain Roberts’s company occupied a strong position along a curtain defending the great gate, and the lads were all in a state of eager expectation of the order to fire.

“It’s our turn now, Sergeant,” said one of the youngest-looking. “I could pick off that chap in front before he knew where he was.”

“Silence, sir!” said the Sergeant shortly; and then looking to right and left, he gave a general admonition:

“Less talking in the ranks.”

“Yah!” whispered the lad who had been snubbed. “Why don’t they make him curnel?”

“See Drummond just now?” said Bracy, where he and his companion stood together.

“Just a glance,” replied Roberts.

“Why, he came close by you.”

“Yes; but my attention was taken up by his boots – yours, I mean. I never saw a fellow look so conscious and proud of being well shod before.”

“Hullo! What does this mean?” said Bracy. “Not an attack, surely? My word! that’s brave; one, three – six of them. Why, Roberts, the cheek of it! They’re coming to order us to surrender.”

“Well, it will be exercise for them, for we shan’t. We’ll let them give up if they like.”

“I say, look!” continued Bracy, as half-a-dozen of the well-built fellows came on alone, making for the gates. The officers scanned them with their glasses, and noted that their thickly-quilted cotton robes were of the whitest, and of line texture, while each wore about his waist a fine cashmere shawl stuck full of knives and supporting a curved tulwar in a handsome scabbard. “I say,” cried Bracy, “what dandies! These must be chiefs.”

Whatever they were, they made straight for the gates, and the two Colonels walked down to meet them.

“Keep a sharp lookout up there, Captain Roberts. You command the approach. Are these men quite alone?”

“Quite, sir, as far as I can see.”

“Can you make out any strong body stealthily approaching, Mr Bracy?”

“No, sir; they seem to be quite alone.”

“Be on the alert for a rush, and fire at once if you see anything. – You will have the gates opened, I presume?” continued Colonel Graves.

“Oh yes; it is an embassage, and they will expect to enter the place. Send for the two interpreters.”

A couple of lithe-looking, dark-eyed hill-men came forward at once, the gates were thrown open, and the party of six stepped in, looking smiling and proud, ready to salute the two officers, who stood forward a little in advance of half a company of men with fixed bayonets.

Salutes were exchanged, and in a brief colloquy the eldest of the party, a smiling fellow with an enormous black beard, announced through one of the interpreters that he was the chief of the Red Dwats, come with his men to meet the English Captain and tell him that he and his people wore the most staunch friends the famous white Queen had, from there to the sources of the great river, the Indus.

Colonel Wrayford replied that he was glad to hear it, and if the chief and his people were faithful to Her Majesty’s sway they would always be protected.

The chief said that he was and always would be faithful, and that he hoped the great white Queen would remember that and send them plenty of the guns which loaded at the bottoms instead of the tops, and boxes of powder and bullets to load them with. Then he would be able to fight for Her Majesty against the other chiefs who hated her, because they were all dogs and sons of Shaitan.

“Roberts, old fellow,” whispered Bracy, high up on the wall, “I could swear I saw one of those fellows leading the attack made upon us from the cedar grove.”

“Shouldn’t be a bit surprised, dear boy. Perhaps he has repented and has come to say he is good now and will never do so any more. Can you understand any of his lingo?”

“Not a word. It doesn’t seem a bit like Hindustani. What’s that?”

“The Colonel asked what was the meaning of the attack made upon us yesterday.”

“Ah, then he knows that fellow?” whispered Bracy.

“No doubt. The old man’s pretty keen, and if that chap means treachery, I’m afraid he didn’t get up early enough this morning if he has come to take in old Graves.”

“I’m sure that’s one of them. I had him at the end of my binocular, and I know him by that scar on his cheek.”

“They all seem to have a good deal of cheek,” said Roberts coolly.

“Look here; I’d better warn the Colonel.”

“No need, old fellow. He knows what he’s about. These niggers are precious cunning, but it’s generally little child’s deceit, and that’s as transparent as a bit of glass. Don’t be alarmed. Old Graves can see through any tricks of that kind, and Wrayford hasn’t been on this station a twelvemonth without picking up a few native wrinkles.”

“Pst! Listen to what they’re saying.”

“Can’t: it’s rude,” said Roberts.

“Not at a time like this, when perhaps men’s and women’s lives are at stake.”

“All right; let’s listen, then. What’s the boss saying?”