Fix Bay'nets: The Regiment in the Hills

“Yes; I see what you mean, but the trick is too old. Remember how the men put their helmets or caps above the breastworks to tempt them to fire. Depend upon it they would suspect.”

“May be, sir, may be not; but we’re in a fix, and we must do something.”

“But the thing is what?”

“If we wanted to go back, sir – to retreat,” began Gedge.

“Which we do not,” said Bracy coldly.

“Of course not right away, sir; but to make a fresh start, that dodge would do.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why, this, sir; suppose we put our ’elmets on the tops o’ two stones just as it’s getting dark.”

“Well, go on,” said Bracy impatiently.

“Then we keep our eyes upon our gentlemen to see whether they come in nigh enough first so as to give us a shot, and if they don’t we wait till it’s dark enough.”

“And then go on as fast as we can, and without our helmets, to be exposed to the sun by day, the cold wind and snow by night, if we were not overtaken and finished. Bah, my lad! that will not do.”

“No, sir; but that ain’t the way my story goes,” said Gedge, grinning.

“Let’s have your way, then,” said Bracy impatiently, as he scanned the enemy in the distance with his glass.

“I mean this, sir. We puts our ’elmets as ’fore-said on the rocks, watches till it’s quite dark, and then, instead o’ doubling off on our journey, we just creeps away to right or left, say a hundred yards, and then lies down.”

“Yes?”

“Bimeby, one by one, my gentlemen comes creeping up with their long knives, ready to cut us up in the dark, supposing that we’re there on the watch. Dessay dozen of ’em would come, front, right, left, and rear; and then, after they’ve surrounded our ’elmets, they goes right in for us, and slashes them instead of us. Next minute there’s a reg’lar hoo-roar, and most likely, if we’re lucky, they’ve chopped one; another awful. But whether they have or not, they’ve found out we’re not there, and that they’ve been done; and on they goes in a passion right away, hoping to catch up to us again in the morning to carry on the same game of following us and giving us no rest till we’re quite done, and the job to finish us is as easy as that.”

He kissed his hand by way of illustrating the simplicity of the business.

“Yes; we should get rid of their hideous, heart-wearing pursuit,” said Bracy thoughtfully, “and then be able to make a fresh start, of course. But what about covering for our heads?”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that, sir. I’m on’y a thin un, and there’s plenty o’ spare stuff in this skin coat to spare for a couple o’ woolly busbies as ’ll suit us for this journey far better than ’elmets. The niggers at a distance would take us for the real article then. Now the spikes on our heads says English to every one as sees ’em.”

“Yes,” said Bracy thoughtfully; “that might be done if we could make the wool hats.”

“Don’t you worry yourself about that, sir. It’s on’y like cutting two big long squares to measure, and doubling ’em over sidewise, and sewing two edges together. Then you sews the top edges, turns the thing inside out, and – ”

“Well, and what?” said Bracy, for the lad stopped short and grinned.

“Puts ’em on, sir. That’s all.”

“And we have scissors and needles and thread and thimbles, of course,” said Bracy mockingly.

“That’s right, sir. In my pocket. Didn’t Mother Gee give me ’em all ready for sewing up bandages and seeing to wounds? I’d a deal rather make caps with ’em; wouldn’t you?”

“Of course, of course, Gedge,” Bracy hastened to say. “Here, it’s time we began to put our plan in action.”

“Time to get on a bit farther first, sir. But do you really think that dodge would do?”

“I think enough of it to make me say that we’ll try it, Gedge; and, if it succeeds, I tell you what, hard as it may be, we’ll try the snow.”

“That’s the place to hide in, sir, when we creep away.”

“Of course. Capital!”

“Might roll ourselves over in it, and it would stick to our coats, and they’d never find us. But I don’t know about going on that way, sir.”

“We must; I see no other.”

“But what about footmarks afterwards, sir? It’s like putting down a lot o’ holes to show ’em the way we’ve gone.”

“Holes that the sun would soon till in, or fresh snow fall to hide. But we need not study that. The enemy would go on and never think of coming back to make a fresh start. Even if they did, they would never find the place again that they went to in the dark.”

“Not by the ’elmets, sir?”

“No; they’d make sure of them – carry them off as trophies. But I see a terrible difficulty.”

“Do yer, sir? I’m very sorry.”

“Suppose, while we’re lying in the snow, one or two of the ruffians come and stumble right over us?”

“I hope they won’t, sir,” said Gedge, with a grim look in his eyes, as he drew his dagger-like bayonet out and touched the point with his thumb. “That’s pretty sharp, sir, and we should be on the lookout, and holding ’em in our hands, as what Sergeant Gee calls a shiver-de-freexe. They might tumble on them.”

“Gedge, my lad, you’re full of resources,” said Bracy eagerly. “We’ll try your plan, exactly as you propose.”

“Thank ye, sir,” said the lad uneasily; “but I don’t want you to think I’m cocky and knowing, and like to be thought double cunning.”

“That will do,” said Bracy, smiling. “Let’s think of the task we have in hand. It is no time to discuss trifles. This is all part of fighting for our lives.”

Chapter Twenty Eight

In the Snow

In the tramp which followed, with the hill-men creeping on after them in the same slow, untiring way, Gedge had his eyes about him, and drew forth a sharp order from his officer when he began to deviate a little from the straight course towards a dwarf clump of pines, the highest of which was not above six feet.

“What are you going there for?”

“Want ’em, sir, for rifles,” was the reply. Bracy nodded; and upon reaching the clump, a few sharp strokes from the lad’s bayonet cut down and trimmed what formed a couple of longish walking-sticks, one of which he handed over to his officer, who used his in the latter capacity, Gedge soon following suit.

“That’s what I want them to think, sir,” said Gedge, digging his down at every second pace. “Now, sir, what do you say? Don’t you think we might edge in more towards the snow?”

“Soon,” said Bracy, pointing. “There’s just the spot we want;” and, raising his glass, he stopped to examine a group of blocks of stone some fifty yards from the edge of the snowfield, which here sent down a few sharp points, giving it the appearance at a distance of a huge, vandyked piece of white lace.

“Couldn’t find a better place if we tried, sir,” said Gedge; “but we ain’t left ourselves time enough. If we had thought of it sooner, I could have cut out and made the busbies.”