Fix Bay'nets: The Regiment in the Hills

For there was a sharp cry from one of the men, who staggered forward a few yards, fell, and sprang up again minus his helmet, which had been struck by a bullet from behind.

“All right; not much hurt, sir,” cried the sufferer, rejoining his companions, after picking up his helmet, the back of which had been scored by a nearly spent rugged missile, whose track was marked in a long jagged cut across the man’s right cheek-bone, from which the blood was trickling down.

The rear men were on the alert, watching for a chance to retaliate upon their troublesome enemy, but holding their fire, for not a man was visible, and it seemed useless to fire at the rocks they had just left.

“The sooner we are out of this the better,” said the Captain quietly. “You know your work. – Wait a minute, and then at the word rush across to the rocks.”

The minute had nearly passed, the time filled up by the rattle and roar of falling stones, and Bracy’s half-company, though at rest, were panting hard with excitement like greyhounds held by a leash. Then, just as the falling stones were beginning to slacken as if the throwers grasped the fact that they were wasting their strength, and were reserving their discharge till the half-company made its rush, there was a sudden quick movement among the rocks they were to try and reach, and Bracy’s blood ran cold as, puff, puff, puff, and then crack, crack, fire was opened.

“Hah!” ejaculated Roberts excitedly; “they’ve got down somehow to cut us off. We’re between two fires, Bracy, man. There’s nothing for it now but to dash forward. You must clear them out of that. Don’t stop to pick up your men who go down. We shall be close behind, and will see to them. Get across, and then turn and cover us if you can.”

Bracy nodded, and drew his revolver, just giving one glance upward at the heights from whence the stones came, and then fixing his eyes upon the rocks on the other side of the curve of the track, from which fresh puffs of smoke arose, making their position look desperate with the enemy in front and rear, supplemented by those hidden among the rugged natural battlements of their stronghold.

“How many men shall I lose?” thought the young officer; and then, “Shall I get across alive?”

The next moment all was changed.

“Why, Roberts,” he cried, “it’s our own men yonder, firing up instead of at us, to cover our advance.”

“Forward, then,” cried Roberts. “We shall be close behind.”

Bracy dashed ahead, waving his sword, and his half-company of boys cheered as they followed him; while as soon as they started there was a tremendous crashing of dislodged masses of rock, which came thundering down, fortunately sent too soon to injure the charging soldiery, who were saved from a second discharge by a sharp crackling fire from the rocks which they were to have occupied, the rapid repetitions telling that a strong company of their friends were at work, and the bullets spattering and flicking among the enemy, driving them at once into cover.

There was a hearty cheer to greet Bracy and his half-company as they successfully crossed the stone-swept track and reached the shelter of the rocks, ready to turn on the instant and help to keep down the stone-throwing as Roberts and his men came along at the double.

But Bracy’s lads did not fire a shot aloft, for a glance at the second half of the company revealed a new danger, and his men dropped into position, ready to repel that with a volley. For no sooner had the second half started than the track, a quarter of a mile in their rear, suddenly seemed to become alive with white-garbed hill-men, who came bounding along in a little crowd.

“Steady, steady! make every shot tell, boys,” cried Bracy. “Fire!”

A ragged volley was the result; the hill-men stopped suddenly as if petrified, and were hesitating still as to what they should do, when a second volley sent them to the right-about, leaving several of their number on the track, while half-a-dozen more were seen to drop before their comrades were out of sight.

There was another burst of cheering as the second half-company pressed on without the loss of a man, Gedge having so far recovered that he was able to double with one of his comrades, who came steadily on with him, arm-in-arm. As the young officers stood breathless and panting with their exertions, the stern, keen face of Colonel Graves suddenly loomed above the smoke, and his horse bore him into their midst.

“How many men down?” was his first eager question.

“Two slightly wounded; that’s all, sir,” was the reply.

“Forward, then,” he said, and he signed to Roberts and Bracy to come to his side.

“You’ve done well,” he said. “Retain your places as rear-guard. I’ll keep in touch with you. – Hark!”

“Firing, sir,” said Captain Roberts.

“Yes; the Major must be clearing the way for us. We must get off this shelf and on to open ground before dark.”

He turned his horse’s head and made his way towards the front as rapidly as the nature of the wretched rock-strewn shelf would allow; and the two young officers tramped on at a fair distance from the rear of the baggage-guard, keeping a sharp lookout for enemies in pursuit, feeling little anxiety about the rugged eminences up to their left, knowing as they did that they would have ample warning of danger by an attack being made somewhere along the line whose extreme rear they were protecting.

Their task was comparatively easy now, for their two wounded men had been passed on to the baggage-train, so that they could be in charge of the ambulance men and have the benefit of the Doctor’s help. A shot came now and then from behind, showing that the enemy were in pursuit; but no mischief was done, a return shot or two from the rear files, who retired in skirmishing order, silencing the firing at every outbreak. Every step taken, too, now was more and more downward, and the keen winds, sharpened by the ice and snow, which had cut down the ravines at the higher part of the pass, were now tempered by the warm afternoon sunshine, which bathed the tops of the shrubs they had looked down upon from above, the said shrubs having developed into magnificent groves of cedars, grand in form and towering in height.

These last were for the most part on the farther side of the now verdant valley – verdant, for its rocky harshness was rapidly becoming softened; even the shelf along which they tramped began to be dotted with alpine flowers, which gave the march the appearance of having lasted for months, for the morning; had been in part among mountains whose atmosphere was that of a sunny day in February. Now they were in May, and according to appearances they were descending into an evening that would be like June.

Matters were going on so quietly now that the two officers found time for a chat at intervals, one of which was as they passed a formidable-looking spot where the thickly scattered stones and marks of lead upon the rocks showed that it must have been the scene of one of the attacks made by the enemy from the rocks above. But there was no sign of them now, the only suggestion of danger being the presence of a score of their men left to keep any fresh attack in check, and who retired as soon as the rear-guard came in sight.

“This must be where the Major had to clear the way,” said Roberts as he scanned the heights with his glass.

“Yes,” replied Bracy; “and I hope he was as well satisfied with the boys as we were.”

“Shame if he wasn’t,” cried Roberts. “Pooh! don’t take any notice of what he said. You know his way.”

“Yes; he must have something to grumble at,” replied Bracy. “If he were with a regiment of veterans – ”

“Yes, of course; he’d be snarling because they were what he’d call worn-out, useless cripples, only fit for Chelsea Hospital. The Doctor was right: it’s his liver.”

“Yes,” said Bracy; “and when we are in camp to-night and at dinner he’ll be in the highest of glee, and do nothing but brag about how he made the enemy run.”

“Well, yes; a bit of work always does him good. It isn’t brag, though, for I believe the Major to be a splendid officer, and if we have much to do he’ll begin showing us greenhorns what a soldier ought to be. But, I say, don’t talk about dinner. I didn’t think of it before; now I feel famished. My word! I shall punish it to-night.”

“If we get safely into camp,” cried Bracy excitedly. “Down with you, my lads, and look out. It came from across the valley there, from among those trees.”

Even as he spoke, pat, pat, pat came as many bullets, to strike against the bare face of the rock over their heads and fall among the stones at their feet, while the reports of the pieces fired were multiplied by the echoes till they died away.

“Nothing to mind,” said Roberts coolly. “They’re trying to pick us off! We can laugh at any attack if they try to cross the depths below there.”

“Nothing to mind so long as we are not hit,” replied Bracy; “but I object to being made a mark for their practice. What have you got there, Jones?”

“One of their bullets, sir,” said the man, who had picked up a messenger which had come whizzing across the valley.

“Bullet – eh? Look here, Roberts,” and Bracy handed his brother officer a ragged piece of iron which looked as if it had been cut off the end of a red-hot iron rod.

“Humph! Nice tackle to fire at us. Lead must be scarce. Now, that’s the sort of thing that would make a wound that wouldn’t heal, and delight old Morton.”

Pat, pat, again overhead, and the missiles fell among the stones.

“We must stop this,” said Roberts. – “Hold your fire, my lads, till you have a good chance. One telling shot is worth a hundred bad ones.”

“Ah! Look out,” cried Bracy, who was scanning the distant grove of large trees across the valley a quarter of a mile away. “There they go, breaking cover to take up ground more forward, to have at us again.”

For, all at once, some fifty white-coats became visible, as their owners dashed out of one of the patches of cedars and ran for another a furlong ahead. The lads were looking out, and rifle after rifle cracked. Then there was quite a volley to teach the enemy that a quarter of a mile was a dangerous distance to stand at when British soldiers were kneeling behind rocks which formed steady rests for the rifles they had carefully sighted.

Five or six men, whose white-coats stood out plainly in the clear mountain air against the green, were seen to drop and not rise again; while the rest, instead of racing on to the cover in front, turned off at right-angles and made for a woody ravine higher up the right face of the valley; but they did not all reach it in safety.

The firing brought back the Colonel, who nodded thoughtfully on hearing Roberts’s report.

“Hurry on,” he said; “the shelf descends to quite an opening of the valley a quarter of a mile farther on, and there is a patch of wood well out of reach of the hills, where I shall camp to-night. The advance-guard have cleared it of a similar party to that you describe.”

“It was getting time,” said Bracy to Roberts as the Colonel rode on. “I shouldn’t have liked for us to pass the night on this shelf. Think they’ll attack us after dark?”

“Can’t say, my son. If they do – ”