CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

  WHEREIN ARE DESCRIBED AN ASSAULT, A FURIOUS FIGHT, AND SOME STRANGEPERSONAL ENCOUNTERS.

  It was nearly two o'clock in the afternoon when Captain Lacey and hiscompany resumed their place in the square.

  About that time an officer of the Berkshire Regiment represented thecondition of his men as requiring attention. They certainly did requireit, for they had been without food since four o'clock that morning, andwere consequently in urgent need of provender as well as rest andwater--the last having been all consumed.

  As it was imperative that the work should go on, it was found necessaryto serve out food by wings.

  Accordingly, the men of one half-battalion received rations and water,and were then sent to their zereba with the Gardner guns, while theother half, still lying in reserve by their piled arms, received theirrations.

  The marines also sat down for brief rest and refreshment. Among themwas our sedate friend Stevenson, who invariably carried his small Biblewith him in all his campaigns. After quickly consuming his allowance,and while waiting for water, he sat down to read a few verses of the23rd Psalm,--for Stevenson was one of those quiet, fearless men whocannot be laughed out of doing right, and who have no fear of the faceof man, whether scowling in anger or sneering in contempt.

  "Hallo, Tom!" said a light-hearted comrade near him, "this is a queertime to be readin' your Bible. We'll be havin' you sayin' your prayersnext!"

  "I've said _them_ already, Fred," replied the marine, replacing the bookin his pouch. "As you say, it _is_ a queer time to be readin' the Word,but not an unsuitable time, for this may be the last chance that you andI will ever have of readin' it. Our next orders may be to meet God faceto face."

  Stevenson was yet speaking when a Lancer was seen approaching at a wildgallop. He dashed up to the generals and informed them that the enemywas gathering in front.

  The message was barely delivered when another Lancer rode up andreported the enemy close at hand.

  The order, "Stand to your arms!" was promptly given and as promptlyobeyed, without flurry or disorder.

  Next minute a wild uproar was heard, and the Lancers were seen gallopingtowards the square with thousands of the swarthy warriors of the desertat their heels--nay, even mixed up with them!

  On they came, a dark, frantic, yelling host, with irresistible fury,and, perchance, patriotism! Shall we deny to those men what we claimfor ourselves--love of hearth and home, of country, of freedom? Can wenot sympathise with men who groaned under an insolent and tyrannicalyoke, and who, failing to understand or appreciate, the purity of themotives by which we British were actuated, could see nothing in usexcept the supporters of their enemies?

  They hurled themselves on that part of the large zereba which wasdefended by the Bengal Native Infantry. These fired a volley, butfailed to check the impetuous rush. Everything went down before thesavages, and the Native Infantry broke and fled, throwing into direconfusion the transport animals which stood in their immediate rear.

  General McNeill himself dashed in among the panic-stricken men andsought to arrest them. He succeeded for a time in rallying some of themin Number 1 zereba, but another rush of the Arabs sent them flying asecond time, and some of the enemy got into the square, it is said, tothe number of 112. The Berkshire men, however, stood fast, and not asoul who got into that square ever got out of it alive. In thiswretched affair the 17th Bengal Native Infantry lost their bravecommander. He was killed while trying to rally them.

  The confusion was now increased by the enemy driving the baggage-animalshither and thither, especially on to another half-battalion square ofthe Berkshire Regiment. Here, however, they were effectually checked.As the Atlantic billows burst in impotent turmoil on the cliffs ofCornwall, so the enemy fell upon and were hurled back by the steadfastBerkshire Regiment, which scarcely lost a man, while over two hundred oftheir opponents lay dead around them.

  The Bombay Regiment also stood fast, and redeemed, to some extent, thecredit of their country; while the Sikhs, as might have been expected ofthem, never flinched for a moment, but strewed the plain around themwith dead and dying men.

  There was horrible carnage for some time--unflinching valour beingopposed to desperate courage; and while a burning sense of injury, witha resolve to conquer or die, was the motive power, no doubt, on oneside, on the other there was the high sense of duty to Queen andcountry, and the pride of historical renown.

  Owing to the suddenness of the attack, and the occupation of the troopsat the moment, there was some mixing up of men of different regiments.One company of Sikhs, who were helping to unload the camels when thefight began, having been prevented from joining their own regiment, castin their lot with the marines. The better to help their Europeancomrades these vigorous fellows leaped outside the zereba and lay downin front of it, and the two bodies together gave the charging foe such awarm reception that they never got within twenty yards of them.

  But there was a fearful scene of butchery among the baggage-animals, andmany unequal hand-to-hand conflicts. There was terrible slaughter alsoamong the working parties that had gone out to cut bushes with which tofinish the zerebas, with coats off and away from their arms. Someindividuals of the marines, who, as a body, suffered severely, weresurrounded by a dozen Arabs, and their bodies were afterwards foundcovered with spear-wounds. This was the case with a sergeant namedMitchel, who had charge of a wood-cutting party and had been quietlychatting with our friend Stevenson just before the attack. Another casewas that of Private Stanton, who had been through the Egyptian campaignof 1882, had fought at Kassassin, Tel-el-Kebir, El-Teb, and Tamai. Whenthis expedition of which we write was arranged, he was one of the firstto volunteer. He chanced to be outside the zereba when the attack wasmade, and failed to appear at muster. Next day he was found dead, withmany spear-wounds, at some distance from the force. Poor fellow! he hadnot been killed outright, and had attempted to crawl towards thezerebas, but in his confusion had crept away in the wrong direction, andhad slowly bled to death on the sands of the desert.

  During the rapid progress of this terrible scene of bloodshed, Miles andhis friend Armstrong stood and fought shoulder to shoulder in the frontrank at their allotted corner of the square--chiefly with bullet, butalso, on several occasions, with bayonet, when the rush of the enemythreatened to break through all barriers, and drive in the line ofdefenders. They would certainly have succeeded, had these defendersbeen less powerful and resolute.

  "Well done!" exclaimed a deep bass voice, in evident enthusiasm, closeto Miles.

  The latter glanced round. It was the voice of his friend Jack Molloy,who helped to work the Gardner gun, and who was at the moment admiringthe daring act of an officer of Sikhs.

  Two men of the Berkshire Regiment, who had been employed outside thezereba, were pursued by several Arabs, and it was evident that theirdeath was almost certain, when the Sikh officer referred to rushed outto the rescue, sprang between the men and their pursuers, killed threeof the latter in succession with three rapid sword-cuts, and enabled thesoldiers to escape, besides which, he checked the rush at that part ofthe square, and returned to his post in safety.

  The cheer of the Berkshire men and others who witnessed this feat washeard to rise above even the yells of combatants, the shrieks of thewounded, the rattle and crash of fire-arms, and the general turmoil anddin of war.

  In one of the working parties that were out when the assault began wasour friend Moses Pyne and his comrade Rattling Bill Simkin. These hadbeen separated from the rest of their party when the first wild rush wasmade by the foe. The formation of the ground favoured their droppinginto a place of concealment, thus for the moment saving them from thefate of being surrounded and cut to pieces, like too many of theirstraggling comrades. For a few seconds they lay close while the enemyrushed past like a torrent, to the assault just described.

  Then Moses uprose, with an expression of stern resolve on his usuallymeek countenance.


  "Simkin," he said, as his comrade also got up, "I'm not goin' to liehidin' here while our boys are engaged wi' the savages."

  "No more am I, Moses," returned Rattling Bill, with something of thejovially reckless air still lingering on his solemnised visage. "Butwe've not much chance of getting back to the zerebas without arms."

  "What d'ee call _that_?" asked Moses, holding out his chopper.

  "A very good weapon to fight the bush with," answered Simkin, "but notworth much against Arab spears. However, comrade, choppers are all wehave got, so we must make the most of 'em. They say a good workman canwork with any tools. What d'ee propose to try? I'll put myself underyour orders, Moses; for, although you are a meekish sort of a fellow, Ireally believe you have a better headpiece than most of us."

  "I propose that we simply go at 'em," said Moses. "Take 'em in rear,cut our way through, and get into the zereba--that's all. It don't takemuch of a headpiece to think that out."

  "Go ahead, then! I'll back you," said Rattling Bill, without the leasttouch of bravado, as he bared his right arm to the shoulder. Both menwere in shirts and trousers, with sleeves tucked up and their brawnyarms exposed--Arabesquely brown up to the elbow, and infantinely whiteabove that!

  The intended rush might have been successful, but for a change in thetactics of the enemy. Seeing that they were severely repulsed at thecorner of the square, where Molloy and his tars worked the Gardner gun,while Miles and his comrades plied bullet and bayonet, the Arab chiefsent a body of his followers to reinforce this point. It was just atthe moment that Moses and Simkin made the dash from their place ofconcealment, so that they actually leaped, without having intended it,into the very midst of the reinforcements!

  Two of the Arabs went down before the choppers instantly, and theothers--almost panic-stricken by the suddenness and severity of theassault--turned to fly, supposing, no doubt, that an ambush had caughtthem. But seeing only two men they ran back, and would certainly havemade short work of them if rescuers had not come up.

  And at this point in the fight there was exhibited a curious instance ofthe power of friendship to render steady men reckless. The incident wehave just described was witnessed by the troops, for, the moment the twosoldiers left their place of concealment they were in full view of thelarge zereba.

  "That's Moses!" exclaimed Armstrong excitedly.

  Without a moment's hesitation he sprang over the defence-works and ranto the rescue, clubbing his rifle as he went and felling two Arabstherewith.

  "You shan't die alone, Willie!" muttered our hero, as he also leaped thefence and followed his friend, just in time to save him from three Arabswho made at him simultaneously. Two of these Miles knocked down; hiscomrade felled the other. Then they turned back to back; Moses andSimkin did the same, and thus formed a little _impromptu_ rallyingsquare. This delayed the catastrophe, which seemed, however,inevitable. The brave little quartette, being surrounded by foes, coulddo nothing but parry with almost lightning speed the spear-thrusts thatwere made at them continually.

  Seeing this, the heart of Jack Molloy bounded within him, and friendshipfor the moment overcame the sense of duty.

  "You can only die once, Jack!" he exclaimed, drew his cutlass, leapedout of the zereba, and went at the foe with a thunderous roar, which,for a moment, actually made them quail.

  Infected with a similar spirit, Stevenson, the marine, also lost hishead, if we may say so. Resolving to run a-muck for friendship's sake,he followed the sailor, and increased the rallying square to five, whileMolloy skirmished round it, parrying spear-thrusts, at once with leftarm and cutlass, in quite a miraculous manner, roaring all the time likean infuriated lion, and causing the enemy to give back in horrorwherever he made a rush.

  A root, however, tripped him up at last, and he fell forward headlong tothe ground. A dozen spears were pointed at his broad back, when a tallmajestic Arab sprang forward and held up one hand, while with the otherhe waved a sword.

  At that moment a strong force of the enemy came down with an impetuousrush on that corner of the zereba, and, coming between it and the littleknot of combatants, hid them from view.

  The attack at this point was very determined, and for a few moments theissue seemed doubtful, for although the enemy fell in heaps they came onin such numbers that the defenders were almost overwhelmed. Steadiness,however, combined with indomitable courage, prevailed. Everywhere theywere repulsed with tremendous loss. Many instances of personal braveryoccurred, of course, besides those we have described, but we may notpause to enumerate these. Tenacity of life, also, was curiouslyexhibited in the case of some of the desperately wounded.

  One man in charge of two mules outside the zereba was trying to bringthem in when he was attacked, and received three terrible spear-woundsin the back and one in the arm, which cut all the muscles and sinews.Yet this man ultimately recovered, though, of course, with the loss ofhis arm.

  Another man lost a leg and an arm, and was badly wounded in the otherleg and in the hand, and, lastly, he was shot in the jaw. After beingoperated on, and having his wounds dressed, the doctor asked him how hefelt.

  "All right, sir," he answered. "They've crippled me in arms and legs,and they've broke my jaw, but, thank God, they have not broke my heartyet!"

  It was eight minutes to three when the Arabs made their first rush, andit was just ten minutes past three when the enemy was finally repelledand the bugle sounded "Cease firing." Yet into these pregnant eighteenminutes all that we have described, and a vast deal more, was crowded.Nearly four hundred of our men were killed and wounded, while the enemy,it is believed, lost over two thousand.

  It is said by those who were present at the engagement that the officersof the 17th Bengal Infantry were heard to say that if their men had notgiven way, there would have been no "disaster" at all, and GeneralMcNeill instead of being accused of permitting himself to be surprised,would have got credit for a heroic defence against overwhelming odds.If he had carried out his instructions, and pressed on to the end ofeight miles, instead of prudently halting when he did, there can be nodoubt that the force would have been surprised and absolutely cut topieces.