CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

ON THE BALANCE.

The enemy had been very quiet for some days. The weather had been bad. Heavy rains had changed the rills and streams which ran along the gullies and ravines into fierce torrents, which leaped and bounded downward, foaming and tearing at the rocks which blocked their way, till with a tremendous plunge they joined the river in the valley, which kept up one deep, thunder-like boom, echoing from the mountains round.

Before the rain came the sun had seemed to beat down with double force, and the valley had become intolerable during the day, the perpendicular rocks sending back the heat till the fort felt like an oven, and the poor fellows lying wounded under the doctor's care suffered terribly, panting in the great heat as they did, feeling the pangs of Tantalus, for there, always glittering before their eyes in the pure air, were the mountain-peaks draped in fold upon fold of the purest ice and snow.

"We should lose 'em all, poor fellows!" the Doctor said, "if it were not for these glorious evenings and perfect nights. It wouldn't matter so much if we could get a few mule-loads of the ice from up yonder. Can't be done, I suppose?"

"No," said Colonel Graves sadly. "Plenty of men would volunteer, but, much as every one is suffering—the ladies almost as bad as your wounded, Morton—I dare not send them, for they would never get back with their loads. Many of the brave fellows would straggle back, of course, but instead of bringing ice, Doctor, they would be bearing their wounded and dead comrades."

"Yes, that's what I feel," sighed the Doctor, "and, Heaven knows, we don't want any more patients. Must be content with what coolness we get at night."

"And that's glorious," said the Major, wiping his wet brow.

"Delightful," added Captain Roberts. "It's the making of poor old Bracy. He seems to hang his head and droop more and more every day, till the sun goes down, and to begin to pick up again with the first breath that comes down from between the two big peaks there—what do they call them—Erpah and Brum?"

"Ha! wish it was coming now," said the Doctor; "iced and pure air, to sweep right down the valley and clear away all the hot air, while it cools the sides of the precipices."

"Why don't you let me go, Colonel!" said Drummond suddenly. "I want to get some ice badly for poor old Bracy. Six mules, six drivers, and a dozen of our boys. Oh, I could do it. Let me go, sir."

The Colonel shook his head, and every day at the hottest time Drummond proposed the same thing; till on the last day, after gradually growing weaker in his determination, urged as he was on all sides by the sufferers in hospital, the wan looks of the ladies, and the longings of the men, the Colonel said:

"Well, Mr Drummond, I'll sleep on it to-night, and if I come to a determination favourable to the proposition, you shall go; but not alone. One of my officers must go with you."

"Glad to have him, sir," cried the subaltern eagerly. "Whom will you send, sir?"

"I'll volunteer, sir," said Roberts quietly.

"Good," said the Colonel; "so it will be as well for you and Drummond here to quietly select your men and the mules with their drivers, plus tools for cutting out the ice-like compressed snow. If I decide against it there will be no harm done."

"Better make our plans, then, as to which way to go. Study it all by daylight with our glasses."

"Needn't do that," said Drummond eagerly. "I know. We'll go straight up the steep gully that I followed when I went after the bears, it's awfully rough, but it's the best way, for the niggers never camp there; it's too wet for them."

"Very well," said the Colonel; and the two young officers went straight through the scorching sunshine, which turned the great court of the fort into an oven, to where Bracy lay panting with the heat, with Gedge doing his best to make life bearable by applying freshly wrung-out towels to his aching brow.

"News for you, old chap," said Drummond in a whisper. "But send that fellow of yours away."

"There is no need," said Bracy faintly. "I can't spare him, and he's better worth trusting than I am."

"Oh yes, we can trust Gedge," said Roberts in a low tone, while the lad was fetching a fresh bucket of water from the great well-like hole in the court, through which an underground duct from the river ran, always keeping it full of clear water fresh from the mountains, but in these days heated by the sun as it flamed down.

The news was imparted by Drummond, and Bracy shook his head.

"It would be glorious," he said; "but you ought not to go. Graves mustn't let a dozen men run such risks for the sake of us poor fellows. It would be madness. We must wait for the cool nights."

"He will let us go," said Drummond; "and we can do it."

"No," said Bracy, speaking with more energy, and he turned his head to Roberts. "I beg you will not think of such a thing, old lad," he said earnestly.

"Well, we shall see."

"Ready for another, sir?" said Gedge, coming in with the bucket.

"Yes, yes, as soon as you can," said Bracy. "This one feels boiling hot."

The fresh, cool, wet cloth was laid across his forehead; and, rousing up from the disappointment he felt at Bracy taking so decided a view against an expedition which the young subaltern had proposed to make almost solely in his friend's interest, and moved by the boyish spirit of mischief within him, Drummond suddenly exclaimed:

"Look out, Gedge, or he'll bowl you over!—Oh, I beg your pardon, Bracy, old chap. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. Knock me over, Roberts. I deserve it."

For Bracy had winced sharply, and a look as of one suffering mental agony came into his eyes.

"It does not matter," he said, smiling faintly and holding out his hand, which Drummond caught in his.

"Ain't no fear, sir," said Gedge, who was soaking the hot cloth. "The guv'nor ain't had a touch now for a week."

"Quiet!" whispered Roberts to the man.

"He is quite right, Roberts, old fellow," sighed Bracy; "I am certainly better. But if I could only get rid of that constant pain!"

"That must go soon," said Drummond cheerily. "I wish I could take your agony-duty for a few hours everyday. Honour bright, I would."

"I know you would, old chap," said Bracy, smiling at him; "but I shall beg Graves not to let you go."

"Nonsense! Don't say a word," cried Drummond. "If you do, hang me if ever I confide in you again!"

Bracy laughed softly.

"I am pretty free from scepticism," he said; "but I can't believe that. Now you fellows must go. The dragon will be here to start you if you stay any longer. Serve him right, though, Roberts, to let him go on this mad foray, for he'd get wounded, and be brought back and placed under Dame Gee's hands."

"Oh, hang it! no; I couldn't stand that," cried the young officer; and a few minutes later they left the room, for Drummond to begin grumbling.

"I don't care," he said. "If the Colonel gives us leave we must go. You won't back out, will you?"

"No; for it would be the saving of some of the poor fellows. But we shall see."

They did that very night, for, instead of the regular cool wind coming down the upper valley, a fierce hot gust roared from the other direction like a furnaces-blast from the plains; and at midnight down came the most furious storm the most travelled of the officers had ever encountered. The lightning flashed as if it were splintering the peaks which pierced the clouds, and the peals of thunder which followed sounded like the falling together of the shattered mountains, while amidst the intense darkness the sentries on the walls could hear the hiss and seething of the rain as it tore by on the rushing winds which swept through gorge and valley.

The next morning the storm broke dark and gloomy, with the rain falling heavily and the river rolling along thick and turbulent, while one of the first things the sentries had to report was the fact that one of the hostile camps—the one nearest to the fort—was being struck.

By night the tribe in another of the side valleys was withdrawn, and during the days which followed one by one the little camps of white-robed tribes-men melted away like the snow upon the lower hills, till not a man of the investing forces remained, and the long-harassed defenders looked in vain from the highest tower of the fort for their foes.

The falling rain had effected in a few days that which the brave; defenders had been unable; to compass in as many weeks; while the alteration from the insufferable heat to the soft, cool, moist air had a wonderful effect upon the wounded, and made Doctor Morton chuckle and rub his hands as he rejoiced over the change.

And still the rain went, on falling; the valley seemed surrounded by cascades, the streams rushed and thundered down, and the main river swept by the walls of the fort with a sullen roar; while, as if dejected and utterly out of heart, the British flag, which had flaunted out so bravely from the flagstaff, as if bidding defiance to the whole hill-country and all its swarthy tribes, hung down and clung and wrapped itself about the flagstaff, the halyard singing a dolefully weird strain in a minor key, while the wind whistled by it on its way down towards the plains.



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

UNCOOKED MUTTON.

Two days passed—two of about the wettest and most dismal days imaginable. There was no sign of the enemy, and the scouts sent out came back dripping, and always with the same news—that the hill-men had given up the siege in disgust, and were right away making for their homes in the valleys at the foot of the mountain-slopes.

There was no relaxation in the watchfulness of the garrison, however, the treacherous nature of the tribes being too well-known. Hence it was that the sentries in their heavy greatcoats stood in such shelter as they possessed, keeping watch and ward, with the valley stretched out dark and gloomy, and the booming and roaring river dimly-seen through the gloom of the night, as it foamed and tossed itself in spray against the various obstacles it encountered on its way towards the lower gorge whence Colonel Graves's regiment had made its appearance when it first came to the assistance of the beleaguered in Ghittah Fort.

The rain had ceased and given place to a thick mist, so peculiar in its appearance that one of two officers going the rounds, both nearly invisible in their long overcoats, said softly to the other:

"Might fancy we were at home after one of our muggy days."

"Yes; just like a London suburban fog, old fellow."

Then there was silence for a minute, as they walked on along the terraced wall, before the one who had just spoken said in a quick whisper:

"I say, Roberts, oughtn't there to be a sentry here?"

"I was just thinking so," was the reply. "I hope to goodness he isn't asleep, for I hate having to report a man for neglect."

He had hardly whispered the words when there was the click of a rifle, a voice challenged them, and they gave the customary response.

"This is not your place, my man," said Roberts then.

"No, sir; twenty yards farther that way. But there's something down below then; that I can't quite make out. It seemed to come past and on this way."

"What! up on the ramparts?" said Drummond quickly.

"No, no, sir; right down below the face of the wall, and I come on a bit so as to follow and look down. I didn't like to give the alarm."

"Why?" said Roberts sharply.

"Because it might be a false one, sir."

"Better give a dozen false alarms, my lad, than miss a real danger. Now, then, what did you see?"

"Well, sir, if we was at home I should say it was a drove o' sheep or a herd o' pigs; but these hill-niggers are so artful and ready to be down upon us that I fancied it might be men."

"Men haven't four legs," said Drummond, laughing softly.

"No, sir; but these Dwats don't think anything o' going down on all-fours."

"But there have been none about lately," said Drummond; "the rain seemed to be too much for them."

"Yes, sir; but ain't they the more likely to come down on us when they think we believe we're safe?—Change guard, sir."

For steps were heard, and a party of men came up smartly, were challenged, and the non-commissioned officer in charge answered.

"That you, Gee?" said Roberts.

"Yes, sir."

"Come here. The sentry thinks there are people below there. Come and have a look."

"The sentry I've just relieved thought the same, sir," replied Gee sharply, "and I had a good look. They're sheep driven down from the hills by the bad weather. I was going to report to the Colonel, sir, and ask whether he'd order a sally from the gate to drive them in. Be useful, sir."

"To be sure. You'd better do it. Let's have a look over first."

They stepped together to the embattled wall, and peered down into the darkness; but nothing was visible now, and Roberts was about to give the matter up as all a mistake, when, from where the mist was most dense, there was the pattering of hoofs in the wet mud, followed by the peculiarly human cough of one of the sheep of the district.

"No mistake about what they are, sir," said Sergeant Gee softly. "They've come down to the low grounds on account of the storm."

"Yes," said Roberts, "and because there are none of the Dwats to keep them back. Why, Gee, we're in luck. We must have the men out and the flock driven in."

"Not much room for them in the court, sir," said the Sergeant.

"No; but to-morrow we must have something in the way of hurdles to shut them in close under the wall, and they can be driven out to pasture every day by some of the men, with a guard to watch over them. You try and keep them under your eye now while I go and tell the Colonel."

The two young men peered down at where the pattering of hoofs could be heard through the mist twenty feet below them; though nothing was visible but a dimly-seen moving mass.

A few minutes later they announced the find to the Colonel.

"This is good news, gentlemen," he said; "such a store of fresh provisions will be a treasure. Order out your company, Roberts, and you had better get five-and-twenty or thirty of your men, Mr Drummond."

"Yes, sir," said the subaltern, smiling.

"What's that you're thinking—rather absurd to get out two companies to drive in a flock of sheep?"

"Well, sir, I was thinking something of the sort," said the young man, colouring.

"I want them to strengthen the guard," said the Colonel quietly. "A dozen of the native servants can be sent round the flock to head the sheep toward the open gates. There is nothing like being on your guard when dealing with a venturesome as well as a treacherous enemy."

"You think the enemy may make a rush, sir, as soon as the gates are open?"

"No, Roberts," said the Colonel, laying his hand on the young man's shoulder. "I think the enemy might make a rush if they were near; but, happily, I do not believe there are any of the hill-men for many miles round. The last reports are that they are heading homewards, and I begin to hope that the breaking-up of the weather has set us at liberty."

The arrangements were soon made, everything being done quietly and without any display of lights. The Fusiliers and the draft of Colonel Wrayford's regiment were stationed on either side of the gates, and about twenty of the native servants, under the guidance of a couple of the friendly hill-men, accustomed to look after the camp live-stock, were detailed with their orders to divide as soon as the gates were opened, and steal cautiously round to the far side of the flock before trying to head them in.

Strict orders had been given to keep the court still and dark, so that the sheep might not take fright upon reaching the gates; while the news spread very rapidly, and the men turned out of their rough quarters, seeking the walls, so as to try and see something of what was going on.

At last, all being ready, the Colonel gave the order for the guard occupying the two towers which commanded the gales to report the state of affairs. Sergeant Gee had taken his place there, and he came down to announce that the sheep were in a very large flock, apparently huddled together about a hundred yards from the gate. But they were quite invisible, and their position could only be made out by their fidgety movements.

"Sounds to me, sir, as if they'd got wolves hanging about them, or maybe a bear."

"Then they'll be all the more ready to come into shelter," said the Colonel, who then gave the word. The great leaves of the entrance were drawn inward, and, each party under his leader, the native servants slipped silently out in Indian file, turned to right and left, and disappeared in the darkness, the mist seeming to swallow them up after their third step.

"Quite a bit of sport, old fellow," whispered Drummond, who had charge of the men on one side, Roberts being on the other, while the regular guard manned the tower and adjacent wall in strength, so as to see the fun, as they dubbed it.

All was silent now, and the only lights visible were those of the windows in the officers' quarters, so that it was hard to imagine that many hundred men, for the most part unarmed, were listening eagerly for the first approach of the unsuspecting sheep.

The listeners were not kept in suspense as to whether plenty of roast mutton was to supersede the short commons of the past. There was what seemed to be a long period of silence and darkness, during which a cloud of dense mist floated in through the gateway to fill the court; and during this time of waiting the watchers, by other senses rather than sight, pictured the dark scouts playing the same part as falls to the lot of a collie dog at home, doubling round the great flock, whose restless trampling they could hear in the soft, wet soil. But at last there was the sound of many pattering feet, telling that the flock was in motion; and the suspense deepened, for the question was, "Would the men be able to head the sheep in, or would they dash off to right or left, avoiding the big opening through the gates as the mouth of a trap?"

"Will they—won't they?" muttered Drummond; and Roberts, like the men in the angle hidden by the tower on the side, held his breath.

The minutes seemed long drawn out now, as the pent-up excitement increased; and Gedge, who was at the open window of the hospital quarters, reached out as far as he could, his heart beating hard as he listened, hearing the pattering quite plainly, and reporting progress to his officer, stretched upon his pallet. For the news had penetrated to where they were. Gedge had heard it from an ambulance sergeant, and hurried in to Bracy.

"Hoo-roar, sir!" he said excitedly, panting hard the while. "Tell yer direckly. It's wonderful how soon I gets out o' breath since I had my last wound,"—the knock-down from the stone in the pass was always "my first wound."—"The boys have captured a flock o' sheep, sir, and it's going to be cuts out o' roast legs and hot mutton-chops for us every day."

Bracy sighed on hearing this.

"Ah, you go like that, sir," said Gedge; "but just you wait till you smell one o' them chops, frizzled as I'll do it, and peppered and salted—wonder whether there is a bit o' pepper to be got."

Gedge did not get the news till the arrangements were well in progress, and a pang of disappointment shot, through him, mingled with a longing to go and join in the fun. But he kept his thoughts to himself, and set to work to make his invalid participate as much as was possible by listening and reporting all he could hear.

"Just you hark, sir; can't hear a whisper, and it's as black as can be," he said softly. "Hope; those chaps as they've sent won't muff it and let the sheep get away to the mountains."

"They most likely will," sighed Bracy, who was more low-spirited than usual that night.

"That's what I'm afraid on, sir. Can't hear nothing, sir," he said mournfully. "Yes, I can; just a soft sort o' sound as is getting louder. It's pitter-patter o' little feet in the mud. Yes, that's it, sir. They're a-coming nigher and nigher. Oh! don't I wish I was out behind 'em with a couple of those grey dogs without any tails the drovers uses. I'd have 'em in through the gates in no time, without losing one."

"Are they going to drive the flock into the courtyard?" said Bracy wearily.

"Why, I telled him they were just now," muttered Gedge; and then aloud, "Yes, sir, that's it; and here they come, and—I can't see, but I can hear—they're a-getting quite near. And of course, as soon as they're all in, bing-bang our chaps'll swing them great gates to and make 'em fast, and there, you are. What a glorious grab, and won't the niggers be wild! Say, Mr Bracy, sir."

"Yes."

"Don't you feel as if you want to shout?"

"No, Gedge, no."

"I do, sir. I say, sir, if I was you I'd give me orders to see the butchers, and buy four o' the sheepskins. I could dress 'em, and you could have 'em made up into a rug, or let the tailor line your greatcoat with 'em. For if we're going to be shut up here all the winter, every one of them skins 'll be better for you than two ton o' coals."

"Buy six for me, my lad," said Bracy, "and have three to line your own coat."

"Oh, thank ye, sir; but—"

"No, no; three will do, my lad, for I shall be lying asleep under the turf before the winter comes."

"Mr Bracy, sir!" cried Gedge in a husky voice. "Oh, sir, plee, sir, don't go and talk like that, sir! Oh, blow the sheep, and the mutton, and the skins!" he muttered; "what do I care about 'em now?"

He was turning away, when, regretting what he had said, Bracy raised himself a little on one elbow, and said softly, and with his voice sounding stronger:

"Why don't you go on telling me, my lad! Is the flock coming nearer?"

Gedge thrust his head out again, and then partly withdrew it.

"Yes, sir—close in, sir. You can hear 'em now; they must be coming in at the gates. Oh, do be careful!" he whispered to nobody, once more full of excitement, and imagining everything in the darkness. "Steady, steady! Mind, you nigger to the left. Yah! don't get waving your arms like that; you'll scare one o' them old rams. Can't you see him tossing his head about? He'll bolt directly, and if he does the whole flock 'll be after him and off and away to the hills."

"Can you see them, Gedge?" said Bracy, beginning to take interest in the capture now for his lad's sake, for deep down in his breast there was a well-spring of gratitude for all the poor, rough, coarse fellow had done.

"See 'em, sir? No; it's as black as the inside of a tar-barrel: but I can hear and fancy it all, and I've helped drive many a flock out Whitechapel way when I was a small boy. Here they come, though, patter, patter, and the chaps have done it splendid; they haven't made a sound. Here they come; they must be half in by now. There's some on 'em close under the winder, sir. Hear 'em puffing and breathing?"

"Yes, yes; I can hear them there quite plainly, Gedge. I hope they will secure them now, for every one's sake."

"So do I, sir; but they're not caught till they're all in and the gates is shut. Our sheep in London's wild enough when they take fright, while these things is more like goats, and you know how they can run up among the rocks. Oh, steady, steady, out there; look sharp and shut those gates," whispered the listener. "Oh, do mind! If I sees all them legs o' mutton cutting their sticks off to the mountains I shall go mad."

"What's that?" cried Bracy, as in the wild flush of excitement that flashed through his brain it seemed as if he had received a galvanic shock, and he sat right up in his bed, to keep in that position, gazing wildly towards the darkened window.

Gedge doubtless replied, but his voice was drowned by the wild, warlike yell of triumph which rose from the court—a yell which told its own tale of the success of a ruse. The sheep had been driven into the court through the mist and darkness—a great flock; but with them fully a hundred tulwar and knife armed Dwats in their winter sheepskin-coats, who had crept in with the quiet sheep on all-fours, the placid animals having doubtless been accustomed to the manoeuvre, thought out and practised for weeks past, with a so far perfectly successful result.

The yell was answered by the Colonel's voice shouting clearly the order for the gates to be shut; but the massacre had begun, the mad Mussulman fanatics who had undertaken the forlorn hope being ready to do or die; and, as the rattle of the moving gates began, an answering war-cry came from not far away, the rush of a large body of men making for the opening being plainly heard.

"Taken by surprise!" shouted Bracy wildly as he realised the horror. "Gedge, it means the slaughter of the poor women and our wounded comrades in the ward. Here, quick, my sword! my revolver! Quick! get one yourself."

"I've got yours, sir, here," cried Gedge excitedly as he snatched them from where they hung. "Don't—don't move, sir; you're too weak and bad, and I'll keep the window and the door, sir. They shan't come near yer while I'm alive. After that—here, ketch hold, sir—your pistol, sir— after that you must lie still and shoot."

The light had been extinguished, so that the sheep should not be scared by a glare from the window; and in the darkness, amidst the howls, yells, and shouts in the courtyard, Gedge felt for the bed so as to thrust the loaded revolver into Bracy's hand. But, to his astonishment, a strong hand was laid upon his shoulder, and the sword was snatched from his grasp, while Bracy cried in a voice the lad hardly knew:

"Keep the pistol, close that door and window, and come on. Gedge, lad, we must try and keep the ward, before these savages get in."



CHAPTER NINETEEN.

GHAZIS AND CUNNING.

As Bracy, closely followed by Gedge, made for the door, the noise and confusion in the darkness were horrible. There were nearly a score of sick and wounded in the two rows of beds, some of whom were groaning and appealing for help; but the majority were making brave efforts to get on some clothes, and one man was shouting for the nurse to go to the armoury and bring as many rifles and bayonets as she could carry. But there was no answer to their appeals, as Bracy, tottering at first, but growing stronger as he passed between the two rows of beds, struggled for the door at the end, and passed through into a little lobby, from which another door led at once into the court, a mere slit of a window at the side admitting a few faint rays of light.

"Ha!" ejaculated Bracy in a tone of thankfulness. "The door's fast, Gedge, lad, and we must defend it to the last. We can do no good outside."

"Who's this?" cried a harsh, sharp voice. "Bracy, my dear boy, you here?" cried the Doctor almost simultaneously.

"Nurse!—Doctor!" panted the young officer.

"Yes, here we are, my boy, on duty; and bless this woman! she's as plucky as half-a-dozen men."

"Nonsense!" said Mrs Gee harshly. "You don't suppose I was going to stand still and let the wretches massycree my patients—do you, Doctor?"

"No, my dear, I don't think anything of the kind, and certainly I won't. Have you got plenty of cartridges?"

"A dozen packets, and there's four rifles with fixed bayonets behind the door."

"I'll have one, my lass. I was afraid I should have to take to my surgical instruments. But, look here, Bracy, my boy, you can do no good, so go back to bed and send that scoundrel Gedge here. He's hiding under one of the beds. He could load for nurse, here, and me, while we fired."

"If you warn't like one o' my sooperior officers," snarled Gedge, "I'd say something nasty to you, Doctor. Give us one of them rifles, old lady; I'm better with them and a bay'net than with this popgun. You take your pistol, Mr Bracy, sir."

"No, no—yes, yes," said the Doctor hurriedly. "You may want it, my boy. Now, then, go back to your bed. You'll be in the way here."

"In the way of some of these yelling fiends, I hope, Doctor," said Bracy, thrusting the revolver into the waistband of his hurriedly dragged on trousers. "Now, then, where will they try to break in?"

"The first window they can reach, when they fail at this door. You, Gedge, watch that window. No one can get in, but some one is sure to try."

The keen point of a bayonet was held within a few inches of the opening the next moment, and then the little party, awaiting the attack, stood listening to the terrible sounds from without. It was hard work to distinguish one from the other, for the confusion was now dreadful; but, from time to time, Bracy, as he stood quivering there as if a strange thrill of reserved force was running through every vein, nerve, and muscle, made out something of what was going on, and primarily he grasped the fact, from the loud clanging, that the great gates had been closed and barred against the entrance of those who were rushing forward to the support of the fanatical Ghazis who had been so successful in their ruse.

Then came other sounds which sent a ray of hope through the confusion; first one or two shots rang out, then there was a ragged volley, and a more or less steady fire was being kept up from the towers and walls. But this was doubtless outward, begun by the sentries, and aided by the two companies that rapidly mounted to their side by the orders of their officers, who felt that it would be madness to begin firing in the dark upon the Ghazis raging about the court, for fear of hitting their unarmed friends.

It was some minutes before the Colonel could reach the guard-room, which was held by the relief, and he had a couple of narrow escapes from cuts aimed at him; but he reached the place at last, in company with about a dozen unarmed men, and in a few minutes there was one nucleus here ready with fixed bayonets to follow his orders. Other men made a rush for their quarters from the walls where they had flocked, unarmed, to be spectators of the capture; but to reach them and their rifles and ammunition they had to cross the court, which was now one tossing chaos of cutting and slashing fiends in human form, rushing here and there, and stumbling over the frightened sheep, which plunged and leaped wildly, adding greatly to the din by their piteous bleating, many to fall, wounded, dying, and struggling madly, beneath the sword-cuts intended for the garrison. These were flying unarmed seeking for refuge, and often finding none, but turning in their despair upon their assailants, many of whom went down, to be trampled under foot by those whom they sought to slay.

The firing now began to rapidly increase, the flashings of the rifles seeming to cut through the dense mist, now growing thicker with the smoke, which, instead of rising, hung in a heavy cloud, mingling with the fog, and making the efforts of the defenders more difficult as it increased. For some time every one seemed to have lost his head, as, in spite of the efforts of the officers, the panic was on the increase, and the Ghazis had everything their own way. Colonel Graves, as soon as he had got his little force together, gave the word for a rush with the bayonet, and led the way, his men following bravely, but the difficulties they encountered were intense. It was almost impossible to form in line, and when at last this was roughly achieved in the darkness, and the order to advance was given, it was upon a mass of struggling sheep mingled with the yelling fiends; and, to the horror of the line of sturdy men, they found that to fire, or advance with the bayonet, would be to the destruction of friend as well as foe.

To add to the horror, the wild and piteous shrieks of women arose now from the portion of the fort containing the officers' quarters; and at this Roberts, who was firing with his men down into the seething mass of fresh assailants swarming at the gates and striving, so far vainly, to mount the walls, gave a sharp order.

"Here, cease firing, my lads," he yelled. "Drummond—Drummond! Where's Mr Drummond?"

"Gone, sir," came from one of the men.

"What! down?" cried Roberts.

"No, sir; he said something about go on firing, and hooked it off along the ramp."

An angry groan arose, and Roberts muttered something about his friend before shouting again.

"Sergeant," he cried, "take the command of your men, and keep these dogs from mounting the gate. I am going to lead my company to the officers' quarters. Ready, my lads? No firing. The bayonet. We must save those women, or die."

A loud, sharp, snapping hurrah rang out, seeming to cut through the mist, and then at Roberts's "Forward!" they dashed after him at the double, to reach the next descent into the court, which meant right among the yelling Ghazis, but at the opposite end to that where Colonel Graves and the Major—who had reached them now with a couple of dozen men, mostly armed with the Indians' tulwars—had managed to struggle into line.

Very few minutes elapsed before the shouting of Captain Roberts's men, as they dashed down, two abreast, cutting into the mass below, added to the wild confusion, and for a time it seemed as if the struggle would become hopeless, as the brave fellows' strength began to yield to exhaustion, for the power to combine seemed gone, and the melee grew more a hand-to-hand fight, in which the savage Ghazis had the advantage with their keen swords, their adversaries wanting room to use their bayonets after a few fierce and telling thrusts.

"This is useless, Graham," panted the Colonel at last; "these sheep hamper every movement. We can do nothing in this horrible darkness. I am going to give the order for every man to make for the walls, where we must defend ourselves with the bayonet as the fellows attack us. We must wait for morning, and then shoot them down."

"And by then they will have slaughtered every woman and non-combatant in the fort," growled the Major savagely.

"No; we must each lead a company or two for the quarters. You take as many as you can collect straight for the ladies' rooms."

"Roberts has gone ten minutes ago, and is fighting his way across."

"Go round by the walls on the other side and get in behind. I am going to rush for the hospital. Bracy and all those poor fellows must be saved."

"Too late," said the Major bitterly. "Two of the men here left a score of the hounds fighting their way into the ward. Oh, if we only had a light!"

Strange things occur when least expected, and there are times when, as if by a miracle, the asked-for gift is bestowed.

"God bless you, Graves!" whispered the Major; "if we don't meet again, I'll do all that man can do."

"I know it, Graham. You'll save the women, I'm sure. Ah! what's that?"

"Fire—fire!" shouted a voice, and a yell of triumph rose from the Ghazis, to be echoed by the seething mob of fanatics outside the gates, who burst forth with their war-cry of "Allah! Allah—uh!"

"We're done, Graves," said the Major in an awestricken, whisper. "It's the fodder-store, and it will attack our quarters soon. It's all of wood."

"If it does we shall see how to die fighting," said the Colonel hoarsely, as a wreath of flame and sparks rolled out of a two-story building at the far end of the court, lighting up the whole place and revealing all the horrors of the scene.



CHAPTER TWENTY.

NON-COMBATANTS.

Meanwhile, completely cut off by the enemy from the rest of the garrison, the occupants of the hospital made such preparations as they could to strengthen their defences. Little enough they were, consisting as they did of three or four pieces of wood placed like stays from the floor to the cross-pieces of the roughly-made door; and when it was done the Doctor said sadly:

"It's of no use. If they come with a rush they will drive that in as if it were so much cardboard."

"Let them," said Bracy. "They will find three bayonets and a sword-point ready for them to fall upon."

"Yes; and then?" said the Doctor bitterly. "There will be four bodies lying in front of us between our breasts and the men who come on, and so again and again till we have made a rampart of the wretched bodies."

"Very well in theory, my good patient," said the Doctor sadly; "but I'm afraid we shall have made part of the breastwork ourselves. These Ghazis not only know how to fight, but they do fight as if there were no such thing as fear."

"There's not much of that in British soldiers when they are at bay," said Bracy proudly. "But it's of no use to talk, Doctor; we must defend this door to the last, and then retreat into the ward, barricading that next."

"And after that?"

"There are my quarters: but we must carry the helpless in there first."

"And lastly?"

"Never mind that," said Bracy coldly; "let us get through firstly and secondly; a dozen things may happen before then."

"Hist!" whispered Mrs Gee. "Some one is coming."

All listened, and heard a swift movement like a hand being passed over the rough door as if feeling for the fastening. Then there were several hard thrusts, and directly after a quick whispering, a scratching as of feet against the wall, and then a slight change in the appearance of the window, the darkness growing a little deeper. In an instant there was the loud rattle of a rifle being thrown out to the full extent of its holder's arms, the bayonet darting through the narrow slit; there was a savage yell, the dull thud of some one falling, and with a fierce shout of rage two or three of the enemy flung themselves at the door, repeating the act again and again, but without result.

"Can't some of us come and help, sir?" said a feeble voice.

"Yes; there's six of us, sir," said another; "and we've all got rifles."

"Back to your beds directly," cried the Doctor. "What's the use of me trying to save your lives, and—Well, it's very good of you, my lads," he said, breaking off suddenly. "Fix bayonets, and stand outside the ward ready to help if we, the first line, are driven in."

There was a sharp crackety-crack as the metal sockets of the bayonets rattled on the muzzles of the rifles, and the six invalids took their places on either side of the ward-door, where the rest of the sufferers lay in silence listening to the yelling outside and the firing now going vigorously on.

There was another crash against the outer door, but still it did not yield, though it sounded as if it was being dashed from its fastenings, and then a shuffling, scraping sound told that another attempt was being made by one of the mad fanatics to get in by the slit of a window. But again there was the peculiar rattling sound of a thrust being made with a rifle thrown right forward and grazing the sides of the opening. A wild shriek followed, and Gedge withdrew his piece, panting heavily and trembling from weakness.

"Did you get home?" whispered the Doctor.

"Yes, sir, clean," whispered back Gedge; "and oh, if that only was the chap as shot Mr Bracy that day!"

There was a crash at the door now, as if a mass of stone had been hurled at it; a couple of boards were driven out, and a strange animal odour floated in, with a yell of triumph, heard above the piteous bleating of sheep and the sharp rattle of the rifles.

"Give me room, Doctor; I can do it. My man taught me," said the nurse, standing with Gedge, friendly for the first time in their lives; and they delivered rapidly thrust after thrust with their full strength, one of the savage Ghazis going down at each.

It was too dark to do much, and Bracy felt his helplessness, after trying to parry a cut or two delivered by one of the enemy; so, drawing his revolver, he fired slowly shot after shot as the enemy reached in to cut at the defenders, their blows mostly falling upon the sides of the broken door.

"It's of no use to try and hold this place longer, Doctor," he said, bringing now to bear his military knowledge. "We have to bear the full rush of these men."

"But it's like giving up to them," panted the Doctor.

"Never mind; let's retire into the ward. You see, the door is at right-angles to this, and when they press in they can only fill this little place, and we shall have to contend with four or five instead of fifty."

"That's good talk," said the Doctor. "I'm not a soldier. Very well, then, back in, and I'll cover you."

"No; you retire with the nurse and Gedge, and I will hold them at bay till you get in. Make the men present their bayonets as soon as we are in. Just give the word, and they will know. It will check the wretches while we try to get the door closed."

"No," cried the Sergeant's wife through her teeth. "Bill Gedge and I will keep them off till you are in and tell us to fall back."

"Right," said the Doctor; "don't stop to parley, Bracy, my lad. Ah, what does that mean?" he cried sharply, for Mrs Gee and Gedge both thrust and then thrust again.

"Means a roosh, gentlemen," said Gedge hoarsely. "In with you; we can't hold 'em back any longer."

"Back in," said Bracy hoarsely. "We must do it, Doctor; they're mad for our blood."

The Doctor stepped through the inner door, and Bracy followed.

"Right and left," he said sharply; "cover the advance as they fall back."

A low hissing sound accompanied a quick movement, and then, after delivering a couple more thrusts, Gedge whispered:

"In with you, nurse."

"You first, boy," she answered, as she thrust fiercely again, a sharp cry following her delivery.

"I don't go afore a woman," said Gedge bluntly, as he delivered point once more.

"Nor I before my patient," said Mrs Gee, following his example, and feeling the bayonet strike flesh.

"Back, you two, at once," cried Bracy sternly; and as the strangely assorted couple took a step or two back and darted into the ward, a hedge of bayonets dropped down breast-high, in time to meet the rush of Ghazis who dashed forward with upraised swords.

Then, to the surprise of all, there was the crackle of a little volley, and the faces of the fierce warriors were for a moment illumined, efforts being made to strengthen the position by dragging a charpoy across, planting a second upon the first, and heaping thereon everything that could be seized upon in the darkness. There was a fresh burst of yelling, the Ghazis raging in their disappointment and at the losses that had befallen them, just, too, when they believed that an entry had been made.

The Doctor took advantage of the pause in the attack to order every invalid who could move by his own efforts to seek refuge in the officers' ward, and with groans and sighs they obeyed, one helping the other, and in many instances having to be helped in turn, while several by slow degrees managed to crawl. A pause in the attack did not give time for all this, the enemy coming fiercely on again before the ward was half clear; but the bristling array of bayonets presented at the narrow doorway kept them from gaining an entrance, each stroke of their tulwars being received on the rifle-barrels, and several going down as deadly thrusts were made.

It was evident enough to Bracy and the Doctor that their defence could not last, much longer. A party of able-bodied men, dividing and taking their duty in turn, might have kept the whole body of the hill-men at bay for an indefinite time; but the efforts of Gedge and Mrs Gee were growing weaker, and at last it was all that the invalids could do to keep their bayonets from being beaten down.

"We must make for our last refuge, Doctor," said Bracy at last.

"Yes, and none too soon," was his reply; "but first of all let's have as much of the bedding as we can get taken to the other room to form a breastwork. Half you men retire and carry mattresses and blankets till you are ordered to cease."

This was done, and then the order was given, just as the enemy was making one of its most savage attacks, the men pressing on with all their might, till a volley was fired which made them recoil. It was only to recover themselves and pour fiercely in through the dense smoke, to begin yelling with rage as they found by degrees that the long ward was empty, and a fresh barrier of bayonets bristling ready for them at the farther door, where a couple of charpoys had been hastily thrown across one upon the other, and piled on the top was all the bedding, principally rough straw mattresses and blankets—a slight enough breastwork, but impervious to sword-cuts, while to reach over in order to make a blow was to expose whoever struck to a deadly bayonet-thrust. Here the defence was gallantly maintained again, the attack as fiercely made, till the floor became wet with blood, and several of the carnage-seeking enemy slipped and fell, either to crawl or be dragged away by their companions.

"It's getting to be a matter of minutes now," said the Doctor in a whisper to Bracy. "This is the last of it."

"The window," said Bracy, calmly enough now. "Take Mrs Gee and help her out. Then you and Gedge climb out, and drop down; you may make your escape in the darkness. You hear, Mrs Gee?"

"Yes, sir, I hear," said the woman in her sourest tones; "but my man told me I was to stick to my patients, no matter what happened."

"And I order you to escape."

"Yes, sir; but I'm not one of your men," said the woman, with a triumphant masterful ring in her words, "and under your orders; but you are my patient and under mine. So you go and get as many of the poor boys away with you as you can. Off with you, Gedge; you're as bad as any of them, in spite of your brag. Then you others follow, one at a time; me and the Doctor can't leave, the rest, and we're going to stay."

"Go!" said Gedge sharply. "Go and leave my comrades and my orficer as can't help theirselves. Not me!"

There was a low murmur at this, and then a cessation of all words in the desperate defence forced upon the little party; for, as if maddened by the long resistance, and utterly reckless of the losses they had suffered, the Ghazis came on, howling and bounding to the door, leaping up and reaching in to strike downward with all their force, and generally paying the penalty of death; for even with their swords extended to the full extent of the holders' arms, not once was a damaging cut inflicted.

The result of this last rush was that, horrible to relate, the breastwork was raised by the bodies of three fatally wounded Ghazis, who in their dying moments sought to revenue their deaths by cutting savagely at their foes as they lay.

"I can't bay'net chaps who are down," muttered Gedge, shrinking back; while at the same moment Mrs Gee uttered a wild cry, for one of the dying men had inflicted a horrible upward cut, which, as she was leaning forward, took effect upon her chin.

This movement on the part, of two of the strongest of the defenders seemed to be fatal. A weak place in their defence was displayed, and with a fierce yell the enemy crowded on in a final attack. This would have been fatal but for the bravery of the tottering invalids, who met the rush with a sharp volley from half-a-dozen pieces, and the flash and smoke were followed by a sudden burst of light, which flooded the ward, showing the enemy retiring a little, startled by the unexpected volley and wondering at the glare. This gave time for reloading, and another volley was fired as the enemy came on again.

This volley was followed by the commencement of a rolling fire outside, mingled with yells of rage, imprecations, loud orders, and the hoarse commands of officers. For the light given by the burning building was the opportunity required; and minute by minute the firing increased from the walls, as the scattered soldiery, many of whom had remained unarmed, found their way into their quarters to obtain rifles and bayonets, and joined their companions on the wall, able, and willing too, to take aim down into the seething mob of savages in the court, without risking destruction to a comrade or friend.

Three times over Colonel Graves summoned the enemy to surrender, and twice over native attendants were dragged forth to yell down to the Ghazis that their lives would be spared. All was in vain; the announcements were received with shouts of defiance, yells of hatred at the Christian dogs, and savage rushes were made at the steps leading up to the ramparts, in each case for the venturers to be partly shot down, the residue being hurled back from the point of the bayonet.

"It's of no use, Graves—Roberts," cried the Major; "it's their lives or ours. Fire, my lads, fire!"

And by the increasing light of the flaming building, whose ruddy rays illumined the horrible scene of carnage, the fight went on, till the courtyard was dotted with the bodies of the wounded and slain, the survivors of the great flock of sheep cowering together close to the main gate, while others lay trampled down amongst the fallen, their thick fleeces having protected many from the cuts of the Ghazis' swords.



CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

A PAUSE.

The moment the court could be crossed, a rush was made for the hospital, where the fight was still going on; but the mingled company of excited men were checked twice over by wounded and shamming Ghazis springing up to foot or knee to deliver one final blow at their hated Christian conquerors, and several of the soldiers were badly wounded by the deadly razor-edged tulwars before the wielder was borne to the earth by bayonets, struggling fiercely still, though riddled with wounds.

Then the entrance to the hospital was reached, and the wild cheer of a dozen men sent a reviving thrill of hope through the fast-falling defenders, and they held their chevaux-de-frise of bayonets once more now, though with trembling, unnerved hands.

A minute before it seemed to them that their last blow had been struck, and that there was nothing else to do but die with their face to the dead and living enemy. But that wild British cheer sent a thrill through them; the massacre of the wounded was after all to be stayed, and they stood firmly there in the brightly illumined room, witnesses of the bayoneting, till the last savage lay dying on the floor.

Roberts had headed his party, and was the first to return to try and save his friend and comrade; and it was into his arms Bracy fell and was carried out, while the men crowded in now to bear out Mrs Gee, the Doctor, Gedge, and the rest, those outside cheering madly as first one and then another bloodstained, ghastly object was borne into the light; while, in the interval between two of the outbursts, poor Gedge, who was being cheered by his comrades, seemed drunk with excitement, as he contrived with failing arm to wave his rifle above his head and shout:

"Three cheers for Mr Bracy; three cheers for the Doctor and old Mother Gee! Three cheers for us all!"

There was a tremendous roar at this, heard loudly above the crackling fire kept up on the enemy still striving to force a way in from beyond the walls.

"Three more," cried Gedge. "Cripples, all on us, but we held our own, and hip—hip—hip—hoo—"

Gedge did not finish his cheer, for half-way through the last word he fell forward, utterly exhausted, fainting dead away.

It was just then that an officer with blackened face and sword in hand suddenly made his appearance high up in the golden light of the fire, and the moment he appeared a howl of execration was raised, which ran through the crowd of soldiery, while the officers scowled and turned away.

The tall, thin figure stopped short in front of the burning building, to gaze down wonderingly.

"Drummond—Scotch coward!" roared a voice, and a yell of execration burst forth.

Just at that moment, from behind an angle of the building, four of the Ghazis, who had lain hidden there and escaped the deadly fire, rushed forth yelling and waving their swords as they made for the figure standing apparently beyond the reach of help.

"Quick, some one—fire, fire!" shouted Roberts.

The figure heard the cry, and turned just in time to face his enemies, two of whom reached him together, cutting at him with all their might. But, active as a cat, the tall, lithe youth avoided one of his foes by leaping aside, ran the other man through, and swinging round, with a tremendous cut severed the wrist of the wretch he had avoided, when coming at him for a second blow.

The other two did not reach him, for half-a-dozen shots rang out, and the true firing of the boy-regiment was again proved, the two Ghazis leaping high in the air, and falling backward on to the bayonets of the men below. There was another cheer at this, but it was dominated directly after by a renewal of the howl of execration which had broken out before.

The hearer looked for a moment or two puzzled, and hesitated to advance; but the next minute he turned half-face, doubled along the rampart to the steps, and descended to the court, passing coolly among the men where Colonel Graves was standing giving orders.

"Mr Drummond," he said, "I am told that you left your men in a way that disgraces a British officer."

"That I didn't," cried the young man indignantly. "I heard you say that if we only had light we could see to fire, or something of that sort."

"Yes, sir, I did," said the Colonel sternly.

"Well, sir, I ran along the ramp and climbed up three times before I could get to the store, and then set fire to the fodder; but it was ever so long before I could get it to burn, and then I couldn't get out."

"You did that?" cried the Colonel.

"To be sure I did, sir. Wasn't it right? Oh, I see now; the men thought I went and hid to get out of the light."

"My dear boy," cried the Colonel; "of course."

"Oh," cried Drummond, "what jolly fools the lads can be! But I say, sir, who's hurt? and was old Bracy safe?"

A minute later the men cheered even louder than before, as they watched Drummond—a hero now in their midst—place a bag of powder to blow down the burning building and save the place from risk of the fire spreading.

That was soon done. It was a risky task, but bravely set about; and, as the place went up in a rush of flames and sparks, the assault from outside ceased, the enemy drawing off under cover of the mist; and an hour later silence fell upon the horrible scene of carnage, not even a bleat arising from the sheep.

But the fort was safe, the dim morning light showing the British flag, wet and clinging, but still hanging in its place upon the flagstaff; while by that time all save the doubled sentries upon the walls and the suffering wounded lay plunged in a heavy sleep wherever a place could be found roomy enough for the poor fellows' aching limbs.



CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

BRACY'S NURSE.

"Bracy, my dear old man!"

"My dear old chap!" These were the salutations of Drummond and Roberts later on in the morning, when they sought him out, to find him with Gedge in a portion of the soldiers' quarters which had been temporarily turned into a hospital.

"Ah, Roberts," sighed Bracy drowsily as he raised himself on one arm. "Not hurt, I hope?"

"Not a scratch. But you—you? Morton tells me you fought like a lion all through that horrible attack."

"Like a very weak lion," said Bracy, smiling faintly.

"But how are you?"

"Oh, so much better," said the young officer, with a sigh. "I feel so restful, and as if I could do nothing but sleep."

"Thank Heaven! But what a change in you!"

"And you, Drummond? But your face—blackened. Were you in that explosion I heard?"

"Yes; I helped to pop off the powder."

"Helped!" cried Roberts. "Why, you placed the powder-bag and fired the fuse."

"Well, what of that? Some one had to do it. I wasn't hurt there, though, old man. It was in setting fire to the store and coaxing it into a blaze, for the blessed wood refused to burn. Spoiled my lovely looks a bit—eh? But I say—it's harder work than you would think for to burn a—I say! Bracy, old chap!—Why, he's asleep!"

"Fast," said Roberts, looking wonderingly at their friend, who had sunk back on his rough pillow, formed of a doubled-up greatcoat, and was breathing deeply, with his face looking peaceful and calm.

"Here, I say, you, Bill Gedge," cried Drummond; "this can't be right. Go and fetch the Doctor."

"No, sir; it's all right, sir. The Doctor was here half-an-hour ago. He was fast as a top then; but he heard the Doctor speaking to me, and roused up while he had his wounds looked at. What d'yer think o' that, sir?"

He drew a small, ragged scrap of something from his pocket, and held it out before the two officers.

"Nothing," said Roberts shortly; "but I don't like Mr Bracy's looks. This can't be right."

"Doctor says it is, sir, and that it's exhorschon. He's to sleep as much as he can. You see, he had a horful night of it, sir, just when he wasn't fit."

"But how in the world could he fight like the Doctor says he did?"

"I dunno, sir," replied Gedge, grinning. "Doctor says it was the excitement set him going, and then he couldn't stop hisself. You know how he was a bit ago, gentlemen, when he hit out and kicked, and couldn't help it."

Roberts nodded.

"And he did fight wonderful, and never got a scratch. That's what the Doctor said it was, and when he zamined his bandages he found this here under his back."

"That! What is it?" said Drummond, now taking the object and examining it curiously.

"His complaint, sir, that kept him bad so long. The bit of iron the Doctor said he dursen't try to get out. It worked out last night in the fight. He's going to get well now."

It was Roberts's turn now to examine the little ragged scrap of discoloured iron.

"Seems wonderful," he said, "that so trifling a thing as that should cause so much agony, and bring a man so low."

"Oh, I dunno, sir," said Gedge respectfully. "I had a horful toe once as got bigger and bigger and sorer till I couldn't get a boot on, only the sole; and when my leg got as big as a Dan'l Lambert's, some un says, 'Why don't you go to the orspital?' he says, sir; and so I did, and as soon as I got there I began to wish I hadn't gone, for there was a lot o' doctors looked at it, and they said my leg must come off half-way up my thigh, but they'd wait a day or two first, and they did; but only the next morning one of 'em has another good look, and he gets out something—just a teeny bit of a nail as had gone into my toe out of my boot."

"Humph!" said Roberts rather contemptuously.

"Lor' bless yer, gentlemen, I was 'nother sort o' feller that night, and was just like Mr Bracy here; hadn't had no proper sleep for weeks, and there I was at it like one o'clock, going to sleep as you may say all over the place. Shouldn't ha' been here if it hadn't been for that there doctor. Wouldn't have had a one-legged un in the ridgiment, sir— would yer?"

"No," said Roberts, who was leaning over and gazing at his sleeping comrade curiously. "Yes, he is sleeping as peacefully as a child. And what about you, Gedge?"

"Me, sir? Oh, I'm all right, sir. Bit stiff in the arms with all that bay'net exercise, and got the skin off one elber with ketching it agen the wall. Yer see, we'd no room."

"We've been there this morning," said Roberts, with a slight shudder. "The woodwork is chipped and cut into splinters, and the sight is horrible."

"Well, yus, I s'pose so, sir. It was horrible work, but we was obliged to do it; they'd have cut us all to pieces. Reg'lar butchers—that they are—and deserved it. Coming on like that at a lot o' poor cripples and a woman, besides the nong-combytant. Savages they are to try and cut down a doctor who's ready to 'tend to everybody, either side, and tie or sew them up."

"You're right, Gedge, my lad; they are savages," said Drummond, patting the speaker on the shoulder.

"Hff! gently, please, sir," said Gedge, flinching.

"I beg your pardon. Are you hurt there?" cried Drummond hastily.

"Oh, all right, sir," said the lad, grinning; "but you said, 'Hurt there.' Why, it's all over, sir. There aren't a place as I've found yet where you could put a finger on without making me squirm. Doctor made me yell like a great calf. But there's nothing broke or cracked, and no fresh holes nowhere."

"That's a comfort," said Drummond.

"Yus; but it aren't very comf'table yet, sir. He says I shall soon be better, though."

"Yes, Gedge, you must regularly lie up till the pain has gone."

"I mean to, sir, all the time that I can get from tending Mr Bracy here. I must tend him."

"You can stay with him; but someone else ought to be sent in."

"No, sir, please; I can manage. It wouldn't be fair, sir, for some un else to come in now the gov'nor's getting better. Doctor says I've saved his life so fur, and I wants to go on and save his life so further. See?"

"Yes, of course," said Roberts, smiling. "It would not be fair for you to be robbed of the credit of what you have done."

"Thank ye, sir. That does a chap good, sir. But I beg your pardon, Captain: you see, I'm noo to sojering and fighting. I thought we'd had it tidy 'ot in the coming up along o' the stone-throwing. Then it was a bit warm when Mr Bracy was shot down and I got my bullet. But that was all like playing skretch-cradle to our set-to last night in the dark. Shall we have it much worse by-and-by?"

"Worse? No," cried the Captain sharply. "Nothing could be worse than last night's work."

"Oh, come, I'm glad o' that, sir; for arterward, when I begun to cool down, it seemed to me that if it could be much worse I should begin to think as sojering might get to be a little bit too strong."

It was just then that Doctor Morton came in, and for the moment he frowned; but the angry look passed off after a glance at Bracy.

"I was afraid you would disturb him," he said; "but there is no need to mind; he will sleep a great deal for days, till this state of exhaustion has passed off. My dear boys, what a night we had! I wonder that any of us are alive."

"There were some narrow escapes, Doctor," said Roberts.

"Awful, awful; and what a morning for me! I feel as if I could do as Bracy is doing—sleep for days; but here I am with a terrible load of fresh cases on my hands, and my chief nurse turned into a patient—Gee's wife. What a woman! what a woman! She must have descended from the Amazons of old. But there, I must go; I only wanted to see that poor Bracy was all right."

"And you do think he is, Doctor?" said Roberts.

"Sure of it, sir. He'll be back with his company before long."

He nodded sharply, and after a word or two with Gedge, who looked ten years older for his night's work, the room was left for sleep, and the young officers hurried off to their several duties. For there was ample work for every one of the defenders, whose loss had, however, been wonderfully small, the Ghazis having been comparatively helpless after their successful entry, their attacks being repulsed by the bayonet, and the soldiery for the most part having the advantage of the walls, while their fanatical foes were raging about the court, repulsed at every attempt to get on close quarters with the infidels they sought to destroy.

As the morning wore on, and the horrible traces of the deadly fray were rapidly removed by the fatigue-parties set to work, a soft breeze from the mountains waited away the heavy clouds of mist, the sun came out, and with it the horrors of the night faded away so rapidly that, had it not been for the blackened ruins of the fodder-store, it would have been hard to realise the fact that such a night had been passed.

Scouting parties went, out in different directions, and returned all with the same report—that the enemy had disappeared, not a trace of them being visible, not even one of the dead or wounded, though their losses must have been considerable. That evening a time of perfect rest seemed to have descended upon Ghittah, which, by the light of the sinking sun, looked, with its magnificent surroundings of dazzling snow-peak, verdant hill, forest, and falling water, orange, golden, and sparkling in the reflections from the glorified sky.

"Yes, lovely, lovely," said Colonel Graves sadly, "if one could only feel that we might lie down and sleep in peace."

"Well, can't we?" said one of the younger officers. "Surely, sir, this has been such a lesson as the enemy will not forget."

"Quite right," said the Colonel; "they will not forget it, nor rest till they have had revenge."

"But look at their losses last night," said the Major.

"I do," replied the Colonel; "but men are plentiful up here in the hills, and they all belong to a fighting race. If they were not fighting with us they would be among themselves, and it is the education of their boys: being taught to fight."

"Then you think they'll renew their attacks, sir?" said Roberts.

"I feel sure of it, and they must find us more upon the qui vive next time. I feel ashamed for allowing myself to be such an easy victim to their cunning ruse."

"Never mind now," said the Major; "it has furnished us with a fine supply of fresh meat."

"Yes," said the Colonel sadly; "but at a heavy cost of wounded men."



CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

AFTER A REST.

The Colonel was right; there were plenty of men in the hills, and they all belonged to fighting tribes-men who, whether Moslem or of the various sects which inhabited the vast tracts of mountainous countries, looked upon it as a religious duty to cut off every one who believed differently, as an infidel or a dog. Many days, then, had not elapsed before there was another gathering of the fierce tribes, whose object was to secure the fort, with its wealth of arms and ammunition. But during the week of respite Colonel Graves and his officers were busy enough. The country round was foraged for stores; and, partly in fear, but as much for the sake of cheating good customers and making everything possible out of the people whom they might be helping to slaughter the very next day, a couple of the tribes brought in grain, fodder, and other necessaries largely.

So the loss incurred by the burning of the store was soon made up, and the fort was better provisioned than ever, even to being prepared to stand the stern winter when it should leave the hills and descend to the valleys and plains.

No despatches had reached the fort for some time past; but the last, in answer to the Colonel's report of his having relieved the fort, where all was well, and that he had no doubt of being able to hold it as long as was necessary, bade him go on holding it at any cost, and wait for further orders. But if he found reinforcements necessary to give the tribes a severe lesson, he was to communicate with the station in the Ghil Valley, whence a Ghoorkha regiment would be immediately despatched to his help.

A little council of war was held, in which Colonel Wrayford managed to take part; and, after due consideration, it was decided that the help was not required, for the unanimous opinion was that the Ghittah force could hold its own, and that they did not need any regiment to come in and carry off part of the laurels they wished to keep for themselves.

Doctor Morton had probably been the busiest man at the station; for, after the repulse of the night attack, every hospital-bed had been occupied, and an additional ward provided; but he had hardly a loss, and he went about, as Gedge said, "looking as proud as a two-tailed peacock in a 'logical garden."

Certainly he chuckled and rubbed his hands a great deal over his patients; and one evening at the mess dinner, when the topic had arisen of the number of men he had sent back to duty cured, and all were rejoicing in the fact, that Bracy—looking thin and careworn, but now wonderfully well—was back in his place, the Doctor, who was pleased and flattered, became exceedingly confidential, and talked more freely than was his wont.

"There, dear boys," he said: "I won't be a sham. I've worked hard among my cripples, of course, and I'm proud of what I've done. If you want an example of the powers of surgery, there you are—look at Bracy. He's a better man than ever now. Look at his condition—hard as a nail. Got rid of all that superfluous fat."

"Here, gently, Doctor," cried Bracy, flushing. "What superfluous fat?"

"All that you got rid of, sir."

"Why, I've always been thin."

"You leave me to judge best what you have always been, sir. I know. Come, you'll own that you're well as ever now?"

"Certainly."

"Be satisfied, then. Well, as I was saying, my dear boys, I'll be quite open with you all. I've been wonderfully successful with all my cases— have I not?"

"Wonderfully," came in a chorus.

"And frightfully modest," whispered Drummond.

"Eh! what is that, Mr Drummond?" cried the Doctor. "I heard what you said. Don't you offend me, for you may come under my care some day. Now, then, all of you—wonderfully successful. Yes, Mr Drummond, and modest too, as you'll own if you'll let me finish my remarks before you stick yourself up as a judge. For I'm going to let the cat out of the bag."

"Let's have her, Doctor," cried the younger men merrily.

"Here she is, then," said the Doctor. "My colleague. She has done ten times as much for the wounded as I have."

"He means Mrs Gee," said Bracy quietly. "Well, she is a splendid nurse."

"Ha! what a woman!" said the Colonel. "She is quite well now, Doctor— is she not?"

"Always is," said the Doctor. "Absolutely perfect."

"I don't understand you, Doctor. The poor woman suffered a great deal in her daring defence of her patients."

"Hah! we're playing at cross purposes," said the Doctor importantly. "You're talking about Mrs Gee."

"Of course. Weren't you?"

"Pish! Poo! Bah! No. I meant my great help and patroness Dame Nature."

"Oh!" ran round the table, in disappointed tones.

"Yes, gentlemen," repeated the Doctor; "Dame Nature. She has set all my wounded right again, and put it to my credit. Why, if the poor fellows had been in stuffy barracks down in the hot plains they'd have died like flies. But up here, in this wonderfully pure mountain air, all I have to do is to see that the wounds are carefully bandaged, and cuts and bullet-holes grow up and together again in no time. As for the hill-men, their surgeon seems to be the next man, who operates with a bit of rag."

"And kills or cures at once," said Roberts, smiling.

"Exactly," said the Doctor good-humouredly; "but really it's wonderful how Nature does nearly all the work. Well, any news, Colonel?"

"About the enemy?"

"Yes; you've been doing nothing lately, and my last bed was vacated to-day."

"I am very sorry that you should be in so low a condition, Doctor," said the Colonel coldly; "but you must understand that I shall do my best to keep you so."

"Why, of course," cried the Doctor. "You don't suppose I want to have the poor fellows cut or shot down to keep me busy—do you?"

"You spoke as if you did?"

"Then I spoke clumsily," cried the Doctor. "But tell me—the Dwats are collecting again—are they not?"

"Yes; they mean to give us no rest."

"So much the better for the men. Keep 'em active. You boys had any sport to-day?"

"Yes; we got six mountain sheep," said Roberts.

"Safe into camp?" said the Doctor eagerly.

"Oh yes. It was hard work, though; for three of them fell right down into one of the deepest gorges from the snow-slope on which we shot them—splendid shots Drummond made after our stalk, he killed with right and left barrels. My one dropped at the first shot, but sprang up and was going off again till my second barrel stopped him."

"Had an awful job to get them out of the gorge and home; but the hunters fetched them out, and we got all safe into quarters."

"Ha!" cried the Doctor; "I'm glad of that. Splendid gamy meat, that mountain mutton. Glorious stuff for convalescents. It gives me the heartache when I hear of you leaving lost ones to the wolves and vultures."

"I quite agree with the Doctor about the quality of the mutton," said the Colonel gravely; "but I'm getting anxious about these shooting-trips, gentlemen. Your guides belong to one or other of the tribes."

"Yes, I suppose they do, sir," said Roberts carelessly.

"Well, what is to prevent them from leading you some day into a trap, and, instead of the news coming into mess of there being an extra supply for the larder, I hear that I am minus two or three of my best officers?"

"I don't know about best officers, sir," said Roberts, laughing; "but I don't think there is anything to fear. These hill-shikarees are very genuine fellows, and their intense love of the sport will keep them honest and true to us. You cannot think how proud they are of leading us to the quarry if we are successful."

"I grant all that," said the Colonel, "knowing as I do what a freemasonry there is in sport, and how clever hunters have a feeling of fellowship for men of their own tastes, whatever their religion; but you must not forget that the hill-tribes are completely under the thumb of their Mullahs, and that the will of these priests is the law which they must obey. Supposing one of these Mullahs to give them orders in the interest of their tribe, they would lead you into an ambush for a certainty."

"Oh, Colonel Graves," cried Drummond, "this is spoiling the only pleasure we have!"

"I hope not," said the Colonel, smiling gravely. "Set it down to interest in my officers' welfare. I only ask you to be careful—well on your guard—and not to do anything rash."

"Just as if it was likely that we should do anything rash," said Drummond pettishly later on. "I'm sure I'm always as careful as can be."

"Always!" said Roberts, laughing, and giving Bracy a peculiar look.

"Here, I say—what does that mean? You two are chaffing me again."

"Oh dear, no," said Bracy. "Our consciences are smiting us for being so reckless, and we're making up our minds to be more careful in future."

"Yes, as the Colonel suggests," chimed in Roberts, "and take friend Drummond o' that ilk for our example."

"Here! Yes, you are chaffing me," cried Drummond anxiously. "I say, old chaps, though—you don't think I am rash, do you?"

"Rather," said Roberts.

"Bosh with your rather! Chaff, because I'm so tall and thin. Bracy, you're not half such a boy as the Captain. You don't think I'm wild and harum-scarum, do you—regularly rash?"

"Well, to speak frankly,"—began Bracy.

"Of course I want you to be frank," cried Drummond hastily. "That's why I like you chaps."

"Well, then, my dear boy," said Bracy, "I do think you are about the most rash fellow I ever met."

"Oh!" cried Drummond, with a look of distrust.

"You do things that no thoughtful fellow would ever think of doing."

"I? Come now; when?"

"Over those sheep, then, to-day. I felt quite sick to see you walk along that shelf of snow, when the slightest slip would have sent you down headlong a thousand feet on to the jagged rocks below."

"Yes, it was horrible," said Roberts.

Drummond exploded into a tremendous burst of laughter, and sat at last wiping his eyes.

"Oh, I say, come. That is good. I like that. Dangerous—made one of you feel sick and the other think it was horrible!"

"Well, it's the truth," said Bracy.

"And you both came along it afterwards, and we got that magnificent sport."

"I came along it after you had set the example," said Bracy quietly.

"But you are a couple of years older than I am, and ought to know better."

"I was not going to show the white feather after what you had done."

"Same here," said Roberts sharply.

"Oh, that was it—eh? I was a boy to you, and you wouldn't let me think you daren't."

"Something of that kind," said Bracy.

"Humph!" said Drummond thoughtfully. "I suppose it was dangerous."

"Of course it was," replied Bracy. "You saw that the guide wouldn't venture."

"Yes; but that made me determined to do it. We can't afford to let those chaps think we're afraid to go anywhere. Come now—didn't you two think something of that kind too?"

"Probably," said Bracy.

"But it didn't seem dangerous when I was doing it," cried Drummond. "I never thought about toppling down, only about getting right across and after those moufflons."

"Same here," said Roberts.

"Well, I did look down once and think of what might happen," said Bracy.

"Ah, that's where you were wrong. Never do that, lad. Keep perfectly cool, and you can get almost anywhere up yonder in the snow. I've got to be quite a climber since I've been here."

"Well, I gave myself the credit of being pretty good on ice and snow to-day," said Bracy, smiling. "I mean pretty well for a cripple. I wish I had done as well over the shooting. That was a miserable show of mine. Thanks for not exposing me at the mess."

"Rubbish!" said Drummond. "Who's going to tell tales out of school? I say, though, that ice-climbing in the mountains is splendid—isn't it? The more one does the easier it seems. It feels quite cool and comfortable."

"Which one can't help feeling on the ice," said Bracy, laughing. "But seriously, we are getting pretty good at it up yonder in the snow."

"Regular climbers," said Drummond; "and I vote that we do as much of it as we can while our shoes are good. There, don't look at a fellow like that—your shoes, then, that you gave me. But I didn't mean shoes literally. I mean before the old man puts a stop to our hunting and climbing."

"He soon will, you may depend upon that," said Roberts. "He's getting nervous about us all."

"Because we are such splendid officers," put in Bracy merrily.

"Well, we are what he has; and, judging from the way we are shut in and left by the authorities, he is not likely to get a fresh supply if he loses us."

"What about the messengers he has sent, Bracy? Think they get through with the despatches? I feel sure they do not. Either they are killed or so scared by the dangers they run that they destroy their despatches and dare not show their faces again."

"Well, I hope that's not the case," said Bracy. "I don't want to give the poor fellows the credit of being treacherous."

"Like enough it is that, treacherous as we deem it; but they are so much accustomed to the tricks and cunning amongst which they have been brought up that they look upon such a thing as being very venial—a kind of cleverness by which we, their conquerors are bested."

"Here, I say, don't get into a dissertation upon the moral character of the natives," cried Drummond, "because there is no end to that. Here, I say—"

"Say away," said the others.

"I've been thinking about what old Graves said as to the shikarees selling us to the enemy. They won't."

"I hope not," said Bracy, laying his hand upon his chest.

"Hullo! What's the matter? Wound hurt?"

"Gives me a stab like that sometimes when the weather is going to change. We shall have rain, I think."

"Ha! and that means snow higher up. Hoo-roar! as the lads say. A nice light coating of fresh snow, and every bear footprint showing clearly. We mustn't miss one. Bear ham is good, and then there are the skins. We shall want 'em in the winter for warm rugs."

"You mean to stay the winter, then?" said Bracy, laughing.

"We shall have to; see if we don't."

"We shall get no bearskins," said Roberts. "The Colonel will stop our going on account of his uneasiness. I heard him say that we should be running upon some prowling body of the enemy one of these times, and never be heard of any more."

"He doesn't know what he's talking about. Just as if it were likely. They sneak along in the lowest valleys; they never go up among the snowfields. No one does but the hunters. It's the same as it was in Switzerland; you never caught the people climbing the mountains till the English taught them, and bribed them to come as carriers. They'd never have made the ascent of any of their mountains. I tell you that in our shooting-trips up yonder we're as safe as we are here. Safer, for the beggars keep away from there, while here they're lying up in every hole and corner all around."

"He's about right," said Roberts thoughtfully; "and, now you're strong enough again, I don't like to lose our trips. We don't get much pleasure up here. Let's make our hay while the sun shines."

"Even if it is in the snow," said Bracy. "Very well; I'm glad enough to go, for the mountain air seems to send fresh vigour through me every time I climb."

The result of this was that whenever the way up into the mountains was clear, and the Dwats who acted as guides to the different hills came in with news, the young officers had their excursions, and generally returned with their men pretty well laden, while the three friends became masters of the district among the heights in a way that suggested years of active residence in that silver land.

There were plenty of alarms, plenty of little encounters with the parties who were always on the lookout to harass the occupants of the fort; but a little extra work for the Doctor and excitement for the men, to keep off the stagnation which threatened them, was all that ensued.

In the interim the Colonel sent off five more messengers with despatches, in the hope that they would get through the enemy and bring back letters; but they were seen no more; and the Colonel's face grew more serious day by day.

"Thinks the tribes mean to starve us out," said Roberts one evening when the Colonel went away from the table looking more depressed and anxious than usual.

"And they won't," said Drummond. "Why, there are mountain sheep enough up yonder to keep us for years."

"They get more difficult to shoot, though," said Bracy.

"Pooh! not they. A few close by are a bit shy; but, look here, when we get right up on the shoulder of that left-hand peak and look north what do we see?"

"Mountains," replied Bracy.

"And when we were right up on that farthest peak last week, and looked north, what did we see then?"

"More mountains."

"That's it; and you might go on and on for a month, and it would be the same—more mountains."

Bracy nodded and looked thoughtful.

"Yes," he said at last; "the world's a long way from being played out yet. We can see hundreds of peaks, and the soft blue valleys between them, which I suppose have never been traversed by man."

"That's right enough, and that's where the wild sheep and goats are just as they always have been, perfectly undisturbed. Thousands—perhaps millions, without counting the goats and yaks, which look as if they were a vain brood of beast who try to grow tails like a horse."

"I suppose you're correct, Drummond," said Bracy.

"Of course I am; and if we shoot down all the sheep near at hand one month, more will come down from the north next month."

"Just the same as when you catch a big trout out of a hole at home, another is sure to come within a day or two to take his empty house."

"Why, they do up here, and the little seer in the river too," cried Drummond. "I say, I wish this was a bigger and deeper stream, so that it held the big forty and fifty pound fish."

"Quite deep and swift enough for us," said Bracy merrily.

"Ah, yes," said Drummond slowly; "I haven't forgotten our going for that nice long walk."

"No," said Roberts; "that was a close shave for all of us. How many more times are we going to run the gauntlet and not get hit?"

"Hundreds, I hope," replied Drummond; and Bracy, who was very quiet, thought, by no means for the first time, of his escapes, and of how it would be at home if a letter reached them some day reporting that one of the lieutenants had been checked once for all in his career.



CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

PERIL IN A POSHTIN.

Another fortnight passed, during which the officers had a day's shooting as often as they could be spared; and, though the Colonel's face grew more and more serious he made no further objection to these excursions so long as they were sensibly carried out, for he had realised how thoroughly the enemy avoided the higher portions of the mountains, the snow-line being rarely crossed; and when they did break through their rule, it was only in crossing from one valley to another, and it was necessitated by the pass which linked the two being more than usually high.

It was a bright, sunny morning, and glasses had been busy in the fort, for certain well-known signs suggested that the day would not pass without their hearing from the enemy, of whom glances were obtained, first in one well-known locality, then in another, which they seemed to affect as a matter of course, showing very little disposition to break out of their regular routine, while one tribe followed in the steps of another so closely that it was generally possible to prognosticate where the attack would be made, and make arrangements to foil it.

The officers were chatting together; and in the group where Drummond stood with his friends he started a good grumbling discourse, something after this fashion:

"It's always the case. So sure as I overlook my tackle, and have a good clean up of the rifles ready for a long day amongst the muttons, some of these beggars come and plant themselves just in the way we mean to go."

"Mr Bracy," said an orderly, coming up and saluting, "the Colonel wishes to see you."

"Ha, ha!" laughed Drummond; "it's to tell you that we are not to attempt a shoot to-day. Tell him, Bracy, that we had given it up."

Bracy nodded, and went straight to the Colonel's room, to find him busily writing.

He just glanced up and nodded.

"Sit down, Bracy," he said, and he went on writing, his table being a couple of bullock-trunks, with a scarlet blanket by way of cover.

"Enemy are out pretty strong this morning."

"Yes, sir."

"Ha! yes."

There was a pause, filled up by a good deal of scratching of the pen, before the stern-looking officer began again.

"You are quite strong now, Bracy?" he said at last, without looking up.

"Never felt better in my life, sir."

"I said strong, Bracy."

"Nor stronger, sir."

"That's right," said the Colonel, reading over his despatch and crossing i's and dotting i's here and there.

"Wound trouble you much still?"

"Gives me a sharp sting, sir, at times, back and front; but I always find that it is when we are going to have a change of weather."

The Colonel paid no heed, and Bracy added:

"I dare say it will soon pass off, though."

"It will not," said the Colonel quietly, and to the young man's dismay. "You will feel it more or less all your life. Yes," he added, looking up and smiling, "a twinge to remind you that you were once a brave officer of the Queen."

Bracy coughed, for he felt a little husky, and as if he were standing near a fire.

"Now, Bracy, business. I cannot go on sending despatch after despatch, none of which reach their destination. Either going or coming, my messengers have come to a bad end or been unfaithful."

Bracy made no reply, for none was expected; and the Colonel now looked up, and, with his hands resting upon the table, gazed full in the young man's eyes.

"I want a messenger whom I can trust," he said, "a man who will undertake the task of delivering my despatch as a duty to his country. There are plenty of good, trusty lads in the regiment. Whom would you select—the best you know?"

Bracy was silent for a few moments before speaking.

"I should be sorry to see him go upon so dangerous a mission, sir; but if I had to select a lad in whom I should have perfect confidence, I should choose Private Gedge."

"A very good selection, Bracy; but I want an officer."

The young man stalled, and drew his breath hard.

"There is Andrews, or Elder, or Morrison," continued the Colonel, "or Drummond, of Wrayford's; but he is too volatile. Roberts would be a splendid fellow for the task, for, like Drummond, he is strong amongst ice and snow, and my messenger will have to take to the snow nearly all the way to save being stopped."

"A wise plan, sir," said Bracy eagerly; "one that should succeed."

"I think it will; but my messenger will be face to face with death from the hour he starts, doubly facing it—from nature as well as man. But I cannot spare Roberts. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir; you wish me to volunteer."

"Yes, Bracy," said the Colonel, holding out his hand, which Bracy caught in both his. "God bless and protect you, my dear boy! I do."

"Yes, sir," said the young man firmly. "I'll go."

"Not alone. Take that man Gedge with you; he has had little to do amongst the snow, but—"

"Yes, sir; he'll learn anything. When am I to start?"

"As soon as you can be ready. Then, I will clear the way for you by making a feint, so that you can make at once for the upper ground."

"Not by the mountains above the Gor Pass, sir?"

"No; the other direction entirely. You are to make for the Ghil Valley, and bring back the Ghoorkas, Bracy. It is time that we took the offensive; the enemy must be driven back before the autumn closes in. No; you are going upon an extremely dangerous mission, Bracy; I tell you so frankly. I will be quite open with you. I am sending you upon this horribly risky journey; but it is as a soldier to risk your life to save ours."