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

sure that’s one of them. I had him at the end of my binocular, and I know him by that scar on his cheek.”

      “They all seem to have a good deal of cheek,” said Roberts coolly.

      “Look here; I’d better warn the Colonel.”

      “No need, old fellow. He knows what he’s about. These niggers are precious cunning, but it’s generally little child’s deceit, and that’s as transparent as a bit of glass. Don’t be alarmed. Old Graves can see through any tricks of that kind, and Wrayford hasn’t been on this station a twelvemonth without picking up a few native wrinkles.”

      “Pst! Listen to what they’re saying.”

      “Can’t: it’s rude,” said Roberts.

      “Not at a time like this, when perhaps men’s and women’s lives are at stake.”

      “All right; let’s listen, then. What’s the boss saying?”

      “I don’t like it, Wrayford. These are part of the tribe that tried to destroy us as we came up yesterday, and now they find we have escaped them they want to make friends.”

      “Well, we want the tribes to be friendly.”

      “Yes, but not with sham friendliness, to lull us into security, and then, after waiting their time, to join their fellows in a general massacre.”

      “I am afraid you are misjudging our visitors here,” said Colonel Wrayford quietly.

      “I am sure I am not. I swear I saw that dark fellow with the cut on his cheek leading a charge.”

      “There; what did I tell you?” whispered Bracy.

      “And what did I tell you about the old man seeing as far into a millstone as is necessary for being on the safe side?”

      “Yes; and I am glad his observation was so keen.”

      “He’s all right, old fellow; but hist! what is it? Ah, that’s right. Wrayford is glad to hear that the chief of the Red Dwats is so friendly to the Queen, and his request for arms and ammunition shall be sent to the proper quarter. Now, then, what does he say to that?”

      One of the interpreters spoke to say that the great chief of the Red Dwats would camp in the valley above, so as to be close at hand if any of the sons of Shaitan who had been molesting the fort before should dare to approach again. They were all gone back now to their own valleys in fear, through his approach, and now the two great English Generals and their men might sleep in peace.

      “Thank you. Bravo! Encore, Sambo!” said Roberts softly. “Going? Pray remember me to all at home.”

      “Ugh!” raged out Bracy below his breath; “if ever treachery was plainly marked upon a smiling, handsome face, it is there in that scoundrel’s. Roberts, we must never trust these men within our guard.”

      “Most certainly not, old fellow; but I suppose we must let them go back in safety, like the noble ambassadors they are.”

      “What is going on now?” said Bracy. “Why, they’re shaking hands with Colonel Wrayford, English fashion. Surely he is not going to trust them?”

      “Seems as if he is,” replied Roberts softly as the young men stood gazing down at the party below. “Perhaps he knows the native character better than we do, and thinks it’s all right.”

      “Well, I don’t,” said Bracy shortly, “young as I am. Those fellows have come as spies, and I’m more and more convinced that they are the set who harassed us as we came.”

      “I begin to think you are right, old man,” said Roberts.

      “Well, of all – That scoundrel is going to offer to shake hands with Graves!”

      “No, he isn’t,” replied Roberts softly. “Doesn’t like the look of the old man’s eyes. Made a sort of shy at him. Now they’re off, after picking up all that they could about our strength and position. Well, it isn’t right, perhaps, for us to pull our superior’s actions to pieces; but I don’t think Wrayford is right.”

      “And Graves seems to think as you do,” said Bracy thoughtfully as he watched the departure of the chiefs. “Look! those fellows are not missing much with their rolling eyes. I wonder what they think of our lads. The poor fellows don’t show up very well against these stout hill-men.”

      “They showed up well enough yesterday,” said Roberts tartly. “Pooh! What has size got to do with it? Well, I’m glad they’ve gone; but I should like to know what they are saying to one another.”

      “Talking about the strength of the gates, you may depend, and whether this would be a good place to make their first attack when they come to put the garrison to the sword,” said Bracy slowly.

      “Well, you are a cheerful sort of a fellow for a companion,” said Roberts, laughing.

      “That’s what they came for, cheerful or not.”

      “Perhaps so; but coming to do a thing and doing it are two different matters. Well, the show is over, and we may come down. Let’s go and see about getting our new quarters a little more ship-shape. I want to see what the men are doing.”

      “Not yet,” said Bracy. “I want to watch these fellows back to their own men, to see what they are about.”

      “You can’t tell from this distance.”

      “Not much; but my glass is very powerful, and I want to try and judge from their actions what is going on yonder.”

      “All right; I’ll stop with you.”

      Two-thirds of the guards mounted were dismissed, and soon after, the walls and towers were pretty well deserted. The two young officers remained, however, Captain Roberts dreamily watching the wondrous panorama of snowy mountains spreading out to the north as far as the eye could reach, while Bracy sat with his double glass carefully focussed and resting upon the stone parapet, watching the departing chiefs, who strode away looking proud and haughty, and apparently without holding any communication with one another till they were well on their way, when Bracy noted that they suddenly began to talk with a good deal of animation.

      Bracy kept up his watch till they reached their followers, who closed round them in a very excited way.

      It was just then that Roberts roused himself from his reverie.

      “Hullo, there!” he cried; “’most done? Can’t make out anything, can you?”

      “Yes; there’s a regular mob of fighting-men crowding round those fellows, and they’re holding a regular meeting.”

      “Good little glass. I say, old man, I’ll swop with you. Mine’s a bigger and better-looking binoc. than yours. Anything else?”

      “One of the party – I think it’s the one with the scar on his face, but I can’t be sure – ”

      “Can’t you tell him?”

      “Not at this distance.”

      “Then I won’t swop. It’s not such a good glass as I thought. Well, what next?”

      “He’s telling his experiences, and the beggars are lancing about, roaring with laughter.”

      “Can you see that?”

      “Yes, quite plainly.”

      “Then I think I will swop, after all. Can’t hear what they say, I suppose?”

      “Hardly.”

      “Humph! Not so good a glass, then, as Pat’s, that brought the church so near that he could hear the singing. Go on.”

      “He’s gesticulating. Now he’s marching up and down stiffly like Graves did while the conference was going on.”

      “Well, of all the impudence! But no flam: can you really make out all that?”

      “Perfectly. Now he is taking off his puggree and pretending to take a handkerchief out and mopping his bald head.”

      “Like