Fix Bay'nets: The Regiment in the Hills

“But I won’t – I won’t sleep,” he said, grinding his teeth. “I’ll die first. I’m going to keep awake and do my dooty like a soldier by my orficer. I’d do it for any orficer in the ridgement, so of course I would for the gov’nor, poor chap! He’s watched over me before now. – Yes, I’m going to keep on. I shall be better soon. Ten minutes would set me right, and if there was a mate here to take my post I’d have a nap; but there ain’t a pardner to share it, and I’ve got to do it on my head. Wonder whether I should feel better if I did stand on my head for a minute. Anyhow, I ain’t goin’ to try.”

Gedge spent the next ten minutes in carefully examining his rifle; then he turned to Bracy, and soon after he took out the latter’s glass and swept the country round, to find more groups of men in motion.

“Why, the place is getting alive with the beggars,” he growled. “We shall be having some of ’em cocking an eye up and seeing us here. Don’t know, though; they couldn’t make us out, and even if they did we look like a couple o’ sheep. I’ve got to look out sharp, though, to see as we’re not surprised. Almost wish three or four would come now, so as I could have a set-to with ’em. That would wake me up, and no mistake. – Ah! it’s wonderful what one can see with a bit or two o’ glass set in a brown thing like this. – Ah! there it is again.”

Gedge lowered the glass and started violently, for the feeling of sleep was now overmastering.

“Nearly dropped and smashed his glass,” he said petulantly, and, laying down his rifle, he closed the little lorgnette slowly and carefully with half-numbed fingers, which fumbled about the instrument feebly.

“He’d ha’ – he’d ha’ – fine – tongue-thrashing when he woke – foun’ glass – smashed.”

Gedge sank upon his knees and bent over the sleeper, fumbling for the strap and case to replace the glass.

“Where ha’ you got to?” he muttered. “What yer swinging about half a mile away for? Ah! that’s got yer,” he went on, aiming at the case with a strange fixity of expression. “Now then – the lid – the lid – and the strap through the buckle, and the buckle – done it – me go to sleep – on dooty, Sergeant? Not me! – I – I – ha-h-h!”

Poor Gedge was only human, and his drowsy head sank across Bracy’s breast, so wrapped in sleep that the firing of a rifle by his ear would hardly have roused him up.

Chapter Thirty Three

Like a Dying Dog

The sun was rapidly going down towards the western peaks, which stood out dark and clear against the golden orange sky, when Gedge opened his eyes and began to stare in a vacant way at a little peculiarly shaded brown leather case which rose and fell in regular motion a few inches from his nose. He watched it for some minutes, feeling very comfortable the while, for his pillow was warm; though it seemed strange to him that it should move gently up and down. But he grew more wakeful a minute later, and told himself that he knew why it was. He and two London companions had made up their minds to tramp down into Kent for a holiday, and to go hop-picking, and they slept under haystacks, in barns, or in the shade of trees; and at such times as the nights were cool and they had no covering they huddled together to get warm, taking in turns that one of the party should lie crosswise and play pillow for the benefit of his two companions.

It was one of his comrades that time, and the sun was rising, so they ought to be stirring to see about, something for breakfast. But in his drowsy state he could not make out that this was six years ago, nor yet what this brown leather thing was which kept going up and down.

Then all at once he could. It was not six years ago, neither was it early morning, but close upon sunset; that movement was caused by Bracy’s respirations, and the brown leather case contained the little field-glass; while the well-drilled soldier, and one of the smartest lads in Captain Roberts’s company, had shamefully disgraced himself by going to sleep at his post.

Before he had half-thought this he was upon his feet, to stoop again and pick up his rifle, and then begin stamping up and down with rage.

“Oh!” he groaned; “I ought to be shot – I ought to be shot! Why, the niggers might ha’ come and knifed Mr Bracy as he lay there helpless as a kid, and all through me. Slep’? Why, I must ha’ slep’ hours upon hours. What’s the good o’ saying you couldn’t help it, sir? You ought to have helped it. Call yourself a soldier, and go to sleep at your post in the face of the enemy! That’s what the Colonel will say. I can’t never face no one agen. I shall desert; that’s what I shall do – cut right away and jyne the rebels if they’ll have me. Better go and jump down into that hole and bury myself in the snow; but I can’t.

“How am I to go and leave the gov’nor when he wants me as he does? Oh dear, oh dear! This is the worst of all. And I was hoping that I should have my stripes when I got back to the fort. Yes, that’s it – stripes. I shall get ’em, o’ course, but on my back instead of my sleeve. There, I’m a marked man now, and it’s about all over.”

Gedge grew calmer as he went, on pacing up and down, for he stopped twice over by Bracy, to find that he was sleeping as quietly as a child, and he evidently had not stirred. The young soldier’s next act was to get possession of the little field-glass again, and, to his dismay, he made out no less than three bodies of men in the valley far below, one of which was streaming along as if marching quickly, while the other two were stationary, close up to a little clump of pines or cedars, he could not make out which.

“T’others are going to ketch up to ’em and camp for the night, I bet. Yes, that they are,” he added as a tiny cloud of grey smoke began to rise. “They’re going to cook, so they must have something to roast, and I’m – oh, how hungry I do feel! Better not hold up this rifle, or they may see it in the sunshine, and come and cook us.”

He had a good long look, swept the valley as far as he could see, and then laid down his rifle, to go down on one knee by Bracy and begin replacing the glass in its leather case.

“It’s all right, sir; on’y me,” cried Gedge, for, awakened by the light touch, Bracy seized one hand and made an effort to pull out his revolver.

“Ha!” he cried. “You startled me, Gedge. Want the glass?”

“Had it, sir, thank ye.”

“See anything?”

“Yes, sir. There’s three lots o’ them Dwats down low there – six or seven hundred of ’em, I should say.”

“Ah!” cried Bracy, rising quickly into a sitting position, but yielding to an agonising pain and letting himself sink back with a groan.

“Hurt yer, sir?” said Gedge commiseratingly.

“Horribly. But tell me; have I been asleep?”

“Hours and hours, sir. It’s just sundown. I was in hopes you’d be better, sir.”

“I am, Gedge. I was in a horrible state before. My brain seemed numbed.”

“No wonder, sir, lying in the snow all night; but you talk quite straight now.”

“Did I seem incoherent before?” said Bracy excitedly.

“Well, sir, I don’t say you was ink-o – what you call it: but you was a bit touched in the upper story; and that was only nat’ral, sir.”

“Tell me about the enemy down below. Have they made us out?”

“I think not, sir; but I must out with it, sir.”

“Ah! there is danger?”

“Oh no, sir, I don’t think so; but I can’t give much of a report, for I had to do sentry-go while you slep’, sir.”

“Did you? Well, you’re a good fellow, Gedge.”

“Not a bit of it, sir. There, it must come to the top. I’d rather tell you than you should find it out, sir. I held up as long as I could, and kep’ going to sleep walking or standing still; and at last, after getting out your glass, I knelt down to put it back, and down I went right off to sleep, just as if some one had hit me on the head with the butt of his piece.”

“I’m glad of it, Gedge,” said Bracy, smiling.

“Glad of it, sir?” said the lad, staring.

“Heartily. It was the only thing you could do after what you had gone through.”

“Beg pardon, sir, but as a soldier – ” began Gedge.

“Soldiers cannot do impossibilities, my lad. I have all the will and spirit to get on to the Ghil Valley, and yet here I am with my urgent message undelivered, and lying sleeping the greater part of a day.”

“Oh, that’s different, sir. You’re sorter like being in hospital and wounded.”

“If not wounded, Gedge,” said Bracy sadly, “I am crippled.”

“Don’t say that, sir,” cried the lad excitedly. “I thought you said there was nothing broke.”

“I did not think so then, my lad, but there is something wrong with my right leg.”

“Amb’lance dooty – first help,” said Gedge quickly. “Let’s look, sir.”

Bracy bowed his head, and the young soldier ran his hand down the puttee bandage about his officer’s leg, and drew in his breath sharply.