Fix Bay'nets: The Regiment in the Hills

Bracy too lay watching the distant blaze till it grew dim to his half-closed eyes. A calmer feeling of despair had come over him, and the feeling that he had done all that man could do softened the mental agony from which he had suffered. This was to be the end, he felt; and, if ever their remains were found, those who knew them would deal gently with their memory. For the inevitable future stared him blankly in the face. Gedge would strive his utmost to obtain help, but he felt that the poor fellow’s efforts would be in vain, and that, if they lived through the night, many hours would not elapse before they perished from hunger and the cold.

The feeling of weary mental confusion that stole over him then was welcome; and, weak from the agony he had suffered, he made an effort to rouse himself from the torpor that, Nature-sent, was lulling the pangs in his injured limb, but let his eyelids droop lower and lower till the distant light was shut out, and then cold, misery, and despair passed away, for all was blank.

The specks of golden light were beginning to show on the high peaks, and gradually grew brighter till it was sunny morning far up on the icy eminences, chilly dawn where the two sheepskin-covered figures lay prone, and night still where the fire was blazing by the pine-forest, and the great body of the enemy had bivouacked.

The two motionless figures were covered by a thick rime frost, which looked grey in the dim light, not a crystal as yet sending off a scintillation; and tiny spicules of ice had matted the moustache and beard of Bracy where his breath had condensed during the night, sealing them to the woolly coverlet he had drawn up close; while a strange tingling sensation attacked his eyes as he opened them suddenly, waking from a morning dream of defending the fort and giving orders to his men, who fired volley after volley, which, dream-like, sounded far away.

He was still half-asleep, but involuntarily he raised a warm hand to apply to his eyes. In a very few minutes they were clear, and he began breaking and picking off bit by bit the little icicles from his moustache.

It was strange how it mingled still with his dreams – that firing of volleys; and the half-drowsy thoughts turned to wonder that there should be firing, for he must be awake. Directly after he knew he was, for there was a sharp rattle in the distance, which came rolling and echoing from the face of the great cliff across the gulf, and Gedge jerked himself and said sleepily:

“That’s right, boys; let ’em have it.”

“Gedge!” cried Bracy hoarsely.

“Right, sir; I’m here,” was the answer; and the young soldier rolled over from beneath the poshtin, rose to his feet, staggered, and sat down again.

“Oh, murder!” he cried. “My poor feet ain’t froze hard, are they?”

“I pray not,” said Bracy excitedly.

“’Cause I can’t stand. But, hallo! sir; what game’s this? They’re a-firing at us, and coming up over the snow.”

“No, no, it can’t be!” cried Bracy wildly. “No tribes-men could fire volleys like that.”

“Course not, sir. Hoorray! then the Colonel’s sent a couple o’ comp’nies to help us.”

“Impossible!” cried Bracy. “Hark! there is the reply to the firing. Yes; and another volley. I almost thought I could see a flash.”

“Did yer, sir? Oh, don’t talk; do listen, sir. There they go. There must be a big fight going on down there.”

“Then friends have attacked the enemy in camp – advanced upon them so as to catch them before daylight.”

“Oh! they might ha’ waited till it was light enough for us to see, sir. Mr Bracy, sir, don’t, pray don’t say it’s reg’lars, because if it ain’t I couldn’t stand it now. I should go down and blubber like a great gal.”

“It is a force of regulars, my lad,” cried Bracy, whose voice sounded as if he were choking. “Friends are there below in the valley. I know: the Colonel must have been badly beaten at the fort.”

“Oh, don’t say that, sir.”

“It must be. They have been too much for him, and he is retreating with our lads trying to make for the Ghil Pass. That is the meaning of the gathering last night to bar their way.”

“Oh Lor’! oh Lor’! and us not able to fire a shot to help ’em. Be any use to begin, sir, like for signals to show we’re here?”

“No,” said Bracy sadly; “our single shots could not be heard.”

“Not if we fired both together, sir?” cried Gedge wildly. “I’ll load for you.”

“How could they distinguish between our shots and those of the enemy you can hear crackling?”

“Course not, sir. I’m a poor idjit sometimes. But oh! why does it keep dark down there so long when it’s getting quite light up here? We can’t see what’s going on a bit.”

“No; but my ears tell me pretty plainly,” said Bracy excitedly.

“Mr Bracy, sir.”

“Yes?”

“We aren’t worse, are we, and all this a sort o’ nightmare before we loses ourselves altogether?”

“No, man, no. Listen. They must be getting the worst of it.”

“Our lads, sir? Oh, don’t say that! There must be a lot of them, by the volley-firing. Don’t say they’re being cut up.”

“The enemy, man. Can’t you hear how steady the firing is? – Splendid. I can almost see them. The enemy must be retiring stubbornly, and they’re following them up.”

“Yes, sir; that’s it,” cried Gedge wildly. “Go on, sir; go on.”

“Their officers are holding the men well in hand, so as not to come to a charge in that broken country, and withering the crowd with their fire to make them scatter.”

“Right, sir, right. That’s it. Oh, if we was only there!”

There was a pause – the two men listening.

“The enemy’s firing sounds more broken up, and is getting feebler.”

“Yes, sir; I can make out that,” panted Gedge. “Oh! I say, don’t let the lads get out of hand and follow the beggars where they can get hold of the bay’nets and use their long knives.”

For another half-hour the pair lay listening to the engagement going on, till it seemed as if the daylight below would never come. Then the darkness gave way, to display far below a cold grey mist, through which clouds of smoke were softly rising; and Bracy brought his glass to bear upon the fight still raging furiously, and looked in silence till Gedge turned to him:

“Oh, do say something, sir! Our lads – they ain’t being cut up, sir, are they?”

“No, no, I think not, my lad; but I can hardly make out what is going on at present. Ha! it’s gradually growing lighter there. The enemy are not where they were last night, and the troops are there.”

“Then they’ve took the beggars’ camp, sir?”

“That does not follow,” said Bracy, whose eyes were glued to his glass. – “I can make out the white-coats now. They have divided, and are upon the rising ground all round. Our poor fellows must have fallen into a trap.”

“No, sir; no, sir, they couldn’t, sir,” cried Gedge; “they’d have seen that fire and known there was an enemy.”

“Yes, I forgot the fire,” said Bracy. “Oh, if the sun would only shine down upon them now!”

“But he won’t, sir; he never will when he’s wanted to. He won’t shine there for an hour yet.”

“Yes – no – yes – no,” panted Bracy at slow intervals; and Gedge wrung his hands, like a woman in trouble, whimpering out:

“Oh! who’s to know what that means, with his ‘Yes – no – yes – no’? Mr Bracy, sir, do – do say that our lads are whipping the beggars back.”

“Yes,” cried Bracy excitedly; “I can see now; the hill-men are scattered and running towards the mountains.”