Fix Bay'nets: The Regiment in the Hills

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.”