Fix Bay'nets: The Regiment in the Hills

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?”