Gil the Gunner Part 50
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Will the colonel see them? I wondered as, at a word, the limbers were drawn round, and we changed front, slewing about the guns, and sending round shot at the sowars now approaching rapidly, while I wondered whether Brace would stand fast and brave them.
But there was in those exciting moments no time for thought. Shot after shot was sent at the advancing regulars, which began to leave horses and men struggling on the plain, while their formation was broken up. But onward they came now in what more resembled a drove than the line of a regiment, and into this the grape shot was poured with such terrible effect, that they broke, turned, and swept away, never coming within fifty yards of us.
Our men sent up a cheer, but we had to canter off, and take up a fresh position, for the sepoy skirmishers were close upon us, and shots began to whizz by our heads.
Hardly were our men mounted again, and we were moving off, before my heart leaped to my throat, for from the other side of the tope I saw the second sowar regiment dash into sight and race down to attack our foot regiment.
"Look, look!" cried Brace, excitedly; "they'll be through them. What is he about?"
But almost as the words left his lips, the double line of infantry, advancing toward the rajah's main force, folded back, as it were, upon itself, and by the time the hors.e.m.e.n were getting close, they were faced by a triple line of bayonets, and a sputtering line of fire curled out, emptying saddles and checking the advance, the sowars sweeping round and galloping away.
"I knew they would not face the bayonets," cried Brace. "Gallop," he shouted; and he led us toward a bit of an eminence, where he evidently meant to take up position, and rake the retreating enemy in their flight.
But they were not retreating. Quick in their action nearly as we were, they wheeled round, and instantly it was evident that their leader was about to try and capture the guns.
I saw it all at a glance, so did every man in the troop, as we galloped on toward the eminence which it would be impossible to reach before they were upon us, while it was equally impossible for us to halt, unlimber, and bring the guns into action. The infantry regiment was too far off to help us, and our only chance appeared to me to be to wheel off to the right, and race for our lives.
Brace rightly saw the position differently.
"Draw--swords!" he roared; then changing our form of advance by a rapid movement taken at the gallop, the trumpet rang out, and I felt for the moment as if I was at the head of the mutineers once more, when we recaptured the guns; then, with sword on guard, I was gazing full at the long line of sowars charging us as we tore on at a frantic gallop, the guns now in echelon, leaping and bounding over the ground, the men on the limbers, sword in hand, holding on with the other, and every driver of the three to each gun holding his sabre at the charge.
One moment it must have seemed to the leaders of the native regiment that they had an easy capture, their line overlapping ours by far on either wing; the next, that an English horse artillery troop is no plaything, for there was a tremendous collision, horses and men went down headlong, and our troop swept on, their echelon formation causing shock after shock, as the tremendous momentum of the six horses of each gun was too great to be withstood by the light-armed sowars, and the guns were saved.
I was conscious of a sharp volley, then of another and another, as we galloped on, the man beside me sinking lower and lower over his horse's neck; then, in what was to me like a nightmare, I saw him drop headlong from his horse, and had a glimpse of his face as his helmet fell off.
Then, growing more and more composed, I wondered why the English regiment should be firing volleys at us, their friends; and all this time the blinding perspiration seemed to be pouring from my head, and I was not seeing clearly. Then, raising my empty right hand, I swept it across my eyes, and as I did so grasped the fact that my sword was hanging by its knot from my wrist, as I saw clearly for a moment that I was alone, and yet not alone, for fierce-looking men in their white garb were galloping by me.
Then I knew that in the das.h.i.+ng charge I had been separated from my troop; that I was bleeding horribly from a wound; and one thought came like lightning across my brain--no; two thoughts, and they were these.
"It is all over; but have I done my duty like a man?"
The next minute a sowar turned and made a cut at me; but his blow fell upon steel, which flashed. Something else glittered and flashed too, and a fierce voice roared an order in Hindustani as we tore on, with a nervous hand grasping my arm, just as it suddenly seemed to turn to night, and I knew no more.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
I felt that if whoever it was would only have left me alone, I would not have cared; but to be bothered like that, when I was so sleepy, and when I had been so hard at work all day, and done my rounds at night, was too bad.
Yes; I knew it was after sunrise, and that in an ordinary way I ought to have jumped up, but the sleepy, stupid feeling was too much for me, and I only lay there and grumbled.
"Don't!" I remember crying, "you hurt me;" but whoever it was kept on all the same, doing something to my head, and then he began dragging my arm about, and then I went off fast asleep.
I remembered all that when I opened my eyes again. It was my first thought, and I lay wondering in a puzzled sort of way whether it was Haynes, for he was the only one likely to play any trick with me, and unlikely enough too. Brace was too stern, thoughtful, and serious, so I thought it could not have been he.
"Hullo!" I exclaimed. No: it could hardly be called an exclamation, for it was said in a very low tone of voice, as I stared about me, and grew confused. For I felt that I ought to be lying in one of the shattered rooms of the residency. No: we had left the residency, and I ought to be lying under a tree in the tope.
It was very puzzling, and I could not make it out at all. In fact, the more I tried, the more perplexing it grew, and while I was trying to get my head to think properly, everything grew dull and misty, and I went off to sleep once more.
But the next time I awoke and ran over my position, I found that I was able to think well, and I did, though the puzzle was great still, why it was that I was lying on cus.h.i.+ons with handsome purdahs or curtains hung about the sides of what was evidently a tent, with handsome Indian carpets spread on the floor, and a punkah over my head, waving gently to and fro to cool the air.
As I was trying to pierce the cloud that closed me in, I at last got a gleam of light through it as if the cloud had opened a little, and I recollected distinctly standing by my two guns in the glaring hot street. Yes; I could recollect that clearly, but no more. Then came a period of confusion, but that pa.s.sed off, and I remembered our trot and then gallop out of the town, down the long road, and out into the country-like plain, where we took up position, and brought the guns into action.
After a time I recalled the whole of the particulars of the engagement right on to our halt beside the tope, within whose shades the waggons, elephants, and wounded men were placed. And now a feeling of trouble and worry came over me, for I recollected that I had been so busy that I had not been to see Serjeant Craig.
It looked hard, for he had done so much for us, but I hoped that Brace had been to him, and that he would not think it unkind of me, knowing as he would that I had been heavily on duty. But, all the same, it was hard for the poor fellow lying wounded.
I paused there, and then repeated the words in a strange, puzzled way--"Poor fellow lying wounded--poor fellow lying wounded."
And then, with the intention of sitting up, I moved my arm.
No; I only tried to move it, and felt a horrible twinge of pain. Then I tried to raise my head, but it felt like so much lead, and the effort made me feel sick.
But my mind was active now, and as I said in a whisper, "Why, I must be wounded," the scene of our last gallop came back to my mind with vivid force, and I saw it all, and even, as it were, felt the sensation of the mad gallop, and the shock of our collision with the sowars, even to the curious sensation of galloping along with our men firing at us, and then awakening to the fact that I had fierce-looking troopers on either side, and then of one cutting at me, and another interposing to save my life.
Yes; I could recollect that clearly, and I recalled, too, the poor fellow falling headlong from his horse.
Was that I?
It seemed as if it must have been; but in a confused way I argued that, if it had, I could not have sat on horseback and seen him fall.
I was still puzzling about it with a _feeling_ upon me that my brain would not work properly, when a purdah was thrust on one side, and a tall, grave, grey-bearded man in white and gold came slowly in. His voluminous turban was of white muslin, and his long snowy garment descended almost to his feet.
I felt, as he gravely fixed his eyes upon me, and advanced to where I lay, that this must be a kind of dream, and that possibly the sun had beat so hotly upon my helmet that it had had some effect upon my brain.
Consequently, all I had to do was to be still, and then all would come clear.
But the dream became to me wonderfully real as the tall grave Mussulman went down on one knee and laid his hand upon my head, the touch feeling cool and pleasant, while, as he saw my eyes fixed upon his inquiringly, he said in very good English--
"The young sahib is better?"
"Better?" I replied in a curiously faint voice--"better? Have I been ill?"
"Don't try to talk. Not ill, sahib--wounded."
"Oh!" I e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "Then I was hurt in that charge. Where is Captain Brace?"
"Don't talk; you are weak. Let me look at your wound."
As he spoke he laid his hand upon my left arm, but changed his mind, and his hands were busy about my head, which I found now was confined by a bandage.
This being removed, he gave me a little pain by touching one spot just above my temple, which was extremely tender, and then, taking out a pair of scissors, he snipped away a little hair closely; after this he drew a piece of fine white cloth from his pocket, he poured some brown strongly scented fluid from a little flask to moisten it, and laid the little wet patch on my head, with the result that it tingled sharply.
"Hurt?" he said quietly.
"Yes; a little."
"It will soon go off."
As he spoke he very carefully bound the linen bandage he had removed back in its place.
Gil the Gunner Part 50
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Gil the Gunner Part 50 summary
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