Fix Bay'nets: The Regiment in the Hills. Fenn George Manville

sprang out into space, diving down head first and still grasping the stone, to pass close over the marching men, strike the stony edge of the shelf, and shoot off into the deep valley below.

      The horrible fall seemed to impress the covering party strangely, and for a brief space nothing was heard but the irregular tramp of the passing men.

      “That’s put a stop to their little game,” whispered Gedge.

      “Look out! fire!” growled the Sergeant; and a couple more of the enemy fell back, after exposing themselves for a few seconds to hurl down stones.

      “Serve ’em right, the cowards,” said Gedge, reloading. “If they want to fight, why don’t they come down and have it out like men?”

      “I say,” whispered his neighbour on the left, “you hit one of them.”

      “Nay, not me,” replied Gedge.

      “You did.”

      “Don’t think so. Fancy I hit that beggar who pitched down, stone and all. I felt like hitting him. But don’t talk about it, pardner. One’s got to do it, but I don’t want to know.”

      “No,” said Bracy, who overheard the words and turned to the lad, “it’s not pleasant to think about, but it’s to save your comrades’ lives.”

      “Yes, sir, that’s it, ain’t it?” said the lad eagerly.

      “Of course,” replied Bracy.

      “And I ought to shoot as straight as I can, oughtn’t I?”

      “Certainly.”

      “Hah!” ejaculated Gedge, and then to his nearest comrade, “I feel a deal better after that.”

      The stony bombardment continued, and Bracy watched every dislodged block as it fell, feeling a strange contraction about the heart, as it seemed certain that either it or the fragments into which it splintered must sweep some of the brave lads steadily marching along the shelf, horribly mutilated, into the gulf below.

      But it was not so; either the stones were a little too soon or too late, or they struck the side and glanced off to fly whirring over the line of men and raise echoes from far below. For, after certainly losing four, the enemy grew more cautious about exposing themselves; and as the minutes glided by it began to appear as if the regiment would get past the dangerous spot without loss, for the baggage mules and heavily-laden camels were now creeping along, and the covering party at a word from Captain Roberts became, if possible, more watchful.

      It was about this time that Bill Gedge, who tired seldom, but with the effect of keeping the stones from one special gap from doing mischief, drew the Sergeant’s attention to that particular spot, and, hearing his remarks, Bracy lay back and brought his field-glass to bear upon it.

      “It ain’t no good firing at a pair o’ hands coming and going,” said Gedge. “I want to ketch the chap as is doing that there bit o’ brick laying.”

      “Bit of what!” cried Bracy.

      “Well, I calls it bricklaying, sir. You see, I’ve watched him ever so long, sticking stones one above another, ready to shove down all together. I think he means to send ’em down on the squelchy-welchies.”

      “The what?” cried Bracy, laughing.

      “He means the camels, sir.”

      “Oh. Yes, I can see,” continued Bracy. “Looks more like a breastwork.”

      Even as he spoke there was a puff of smoke, a dull report, and a sharp spat on the rock close to the young officer’s hand, and he started up, looking a little white, while Sergeant Gee picked up a flattened-out piece of lead.

      “Right, sir,” he said; “it is a breastwork, and there’s a couple o’ long barrels sticking out.”

      “Let them have it there,” cried Captain Roberts. “They’re opening fire with their jezails.”

      “Yes, sir,” said Gedge in a whisper; “we’ve just found that out for ourselves.”

      He drew trigger as he spoke, and as the smoke rose and he looked up, loading mechanically the while, he caught sight of a long gun dropping swiftly down, barrel first, to fall close by one of the camels, grunting and moaning as it bore its balanced load along the shelf.

      “Mine,” cried Gedge. “I hit the chap as he was looking down. I wants that there long gas-pipe to take home.”

      “Thank you, Gedge,” said Bracy in a low voice. “I believe you’ve saved my life.”

      “Not me, sir; he shot first, but it did look near.”

      “Horribly, my lad, and he’d have had me next time.”

      “Think so, sir?” said the lad, taking aim again. “Well, there’s another on ’em shooting, and I want to get him if I can. Stop him from committing murder, too.”

      Gedge took a long aim, and his finger trembled about the trigger for nearly a minute, but he did not fire; and all the while, evidently set in motion by a good strong party of the enemy, the stones came crashing and thundering down, in spite of the firing kept up by the covering sections, whose rifle-bullets spattered and splashed upon the rocks, and often started tiny avalanches of weathered débris.

      Then all at once Gedge fired, and the long barrel, which had been thrust out from the little breastwork and sent down dangerous shots time after time, was suddenly snatched back, and the lad reloaded, looking smilingly at the lieutenant the while.

      “Good shot,” said Sergeant Gee importantly. “You didn’t do your firing-practice for nothing, my man.”

      “Did you hit him, Gedge?” cried Bracy eagerly.

      “Yes, sir; he had it that time. I could ha’ done it afore if he’d ha’ showed hisself.”

      “But he did at last.”

      “That he didn’t, sir, on’y his shadder on the stone, and I aimed at that.”

      “Nonsense!” cried the Sergeant.

      “Ah, well, you’ll see,” said Gedge, and he turned with a grin to his officer. “I foun’ as I should never hit him strite forrard, sir, so I thinked it out a bit, and then aimed at his shadder, and it was like taking him off the cushion – fired at the stone where I could see the shadder of his head.”

      “Ah! a ricochet,” cried Bracy.

      “That’s it, sir; a rickyshay.”

      The stones continued to fall without effect; but no one above attempted to expose himself again to the deadly fire from below.

      Suddenly Bracy started from his place.

      “Up with you, my lads; forward!”

      Waving his sword, he made a rush, leading his men along the deadly-looking piece of road swept by the stones from above, for the rear-guard had passed in safety; and, with his breath coming thick and fast, he dashed forward, knowing full well that their first movement would be the signal for the stones to come down thick and fast. He was quite right; for, as the men cheered and dashed after their two officers, block after block came whirring down, crashing, bounding, shivering, and seeming to fill the air with fragments so thickly that it was quite impossible to believe the passage of that hundred exposed yards could be accomplished in safety. But they got across untouched, and the men cheered again as they clustered about their officers, the precipitous spot where they now stood being sheltered from the danger, apparently inaccessible even to the enemy.

      “Bravo, my lads!” cried the Captain.

      “Splendidly done,” said Bracy, breathless, “and not a man hurt.”

      “All here?” said Captain Roberts.

      “Yes, sir;” “Yes, sir,” came in a scattered volley of words.

      “No – stop!” said Bracy excitedly. “Where’s Gedge?”

      There was a dead silence, the men looking at one another and then back along the stone-strewed track, only