Onward, swifter or slower, they moved as the undulations of the mighty
snow-slope ruled with the rough track crossing at right-angles far below
and gradually growing plainer, the white-coats of the fleeing enemy, the
kharkee jackets of the advancing line of Ghoorkhas, and the pulls of
smoke from each discharge coming nearer as if in a dream. The
excitement of the wild rush seemed to madden Gedge, who, as he found out
that he could easily control his rough chariot of stone, let it glide
faster and faster, his eyes sparkling, and the various phases of the
fight below sending a wild longing to be amongst it thrilling through
his nerves.
"Oh," he shouted, "if there was only a hundred of us coming down like
this to take the enemy front and rear! Are you all right, sir?"
"Yes, yes; but beware of the rocks down below there by the track."
"Right, sir. Wish they weren't there, though, and we could go right on;
charge through 'em in no time."
He had to speak without turning his head, and Bracy did not catch half
his words. But it was no time for speaking; and, forgetting for the
time being his injuries and partial helplessness, Bracy began to share
in his driver's excitement, and watched the movements going on below.
The height to which they had climbed had been great, and some memory of
the labour they had gone through in the ascent came back as they swept
rapidly down, till in an incredibly short space of time they neared the
rocky track, with its rugged pinnacles and masses standing right up out
of the snow.
Gedge saw that the enemy was still far below the track; and as he
checked the way on the stone by gradually driving in his well-nailed
boot heels, he looked to right or left for a spot where there would be a
clear crossing of the track, free from projecting rocks, so that a
stoppage would not be necessary. There it was, lying well to the right,
narrow but perfectly practicable. For, plainly enough, he could see
that there had been a snow-slide burying a portion of the track, and if
he could steer between a couple of rocks, not ten yards apart, the glide
down could be continued without a pause.
"It's all right, sir," he cried. "Signals is clear, and we don't stop
at that station. Hoorray! Her Majesty's mails. Fast express."
It was on Bracy's lips to cry, "Take care," but he nipped them together
and sat fast, feeling their pace slacken as if, to carry out Gedge's
simile, they were easing down to run through a station.
Nearer, nearer, with rough crags half-buried in the snow on both sides
and seeming to close in upon them as they glided down, with the narrow
pass between the two rocks unaccountably growing for the moment closer
together. But directly after, by clever steering, Gedge made a curve in
their descent, brought the stone opposite the opening, and then let it
go.
Their way rose a little as they approached the track where it was buried
in the snow, but directly after the descent was steeper; and as soon as
Gedge felt sure of his course they dashed through the opening at a
greatly increased speed. Then he shouted in his wild excitement as they
tore down towards the enemy, who were toiling upward, slipping, and even
crawling on all-fours in places, while their active little pursuers were
striving their best to overtake them, but pausing at times to fire.
Pursued and pursuers were still far below, but Bracy saw that it was
only a matter of a short time before they would be amongst them; and
now, for the first time, it was evident that their descent had caught
the attention of the hill-men striving to reach the track, some of whom
stopped short to stare, while a party of about twenty immediately bore
off to their left as if meaning to intercept them.
"What's it to be, sir!" panted Gedge. "Charge through 'em, or stop and
let 'em have it? They'll be `twix' two fives."
"Stop!" shouted Bracy. "They'll try to check us, and slash as we come;
and if we strike against even one we shall be upset."
"That's right, sir. Be ready with the rifles. Mine's charged, I think.
'Nother five hundred yards right for that lot o' twenty, and then slide
off and open fire--eh?"
"You don't want your orders, Gedge," said Bracy dryly. "Quite right."
Gedge did not hear him, for, as they rushed down over the icy snow, he
had his work cut out to check his awkward car, as it nearly mastered
him, his heels gliding over the smooth surface and refusing to cut in.
Forcing them down, though, the speed began to slacken, till they neared
the ascending group of savage faces of those who had borne off to
intercept them; and as the car was brought to a stand a couple of shots
were fired, and the missiles sent whistled by their heads.
"Can yer roll off, sir, and lie on yer face?" cried Gedge as he snatched
his rifle, threw himself down behind the stone, and opened his
cartridge-pouch.
"Yes. Look to yourself. Fire sharply, or they'll be upon us."
"Or our bay'nets," said Gedge through his teeth.
The next moment he fired as he rested upon his elbows, and a shot from
Bracy rang out, with the result that two of the group below them
dropped, and a yell came from the remainder as they made a rush to reach
them. But their running powers were exhausted, and at the end of twenty
yards they resumed their heavy climb, with their feet breaking through
the crust of frozen snow.
Crack, crack! from the English rifles, and one more dropped in his
track, while another sprang wildly in advance for a few yards, before
pitching forward upon his face and lying still.
"Fire steadily," said Bracy hoarsely, "and we may cheek them."
"Right, sir. Quick, too, for the beggars on the left are closing in to
help."
A couple more shots were fired, and another man went down, and then
there was a yell of rage and an order from one of the party, with the
result that all dropped upon their faces, checked, and began to fire at
the pair crouching behind the stone, made to look bigger by Gedge's
_poshtin_ lying in a little heap on the top.
"It's all right, sir; they couldn't hit a haystack. Their hands are all
of a tremble with climbing. We're right enough. I hit that chap."
Proof was given, for one of the enemy started up, dropped his long
jezail, and fell backwards.
"Keep on firing steadily, Gedge," said Bracy huskily. "I must open upon
that group on our flank. They're coming on."
"Then we're done, for, sir," said the young soldier. "But mind this,
sir; I die game, though you did call me a coward last night."
"I did, Gedge, and it was a cruel lie, my lad. Fire away. I wish I had
your pluck. Look here."
"Yes, sir.--One for you," growled Gedge as he fired again.--"I'm
listening, but I can't look. Hit him, sir?"
"Yes," said Bracy. "Look here."
"Can't, sir."
"Then listen. When it comes to the worst--one grip of the hand, my lad,
before we go."
Crack--crack!
Two more shots in answer to the scattered fire of the enemy, whose
bullets whistled over their heads, seeking billets in the snow around.
"Won't be long, sir, I'm afraid," said Gedge. "No, I ain't afraid--not
a bit. But those chaps are coming on faster. 'Tain't climbing, sir,
now."
"No; they'll be upon us before five minutes have passed. Turn your
rifle upon them, my lad, for two or three shots, and we may check them
too."
Before Gedge could change his position a scattered volley from below
somewhere rattled out, and the flanking-party coming on needed no
checking, some of them falling dying or wounded, while the remainder
threw themselves down and began firing, some at their pursuers below,
the rest at Bracy and Gedge.
"Hoorray, sir! Didn't I say there was life in a mussel? The Ghoorkhas
are at 'em. Look, sir, there's about a dozen of 'em lying down to cover
the advance, and another dozen coming on with their knives. Let's show
'em how to shoot, sir. It 'll help the little chaps, too, when they
charge."
It was as Gedge said; and as shot after shot was sent with good aim, the
party of tribes-men in front was lessened by half-a-dozen before the
little Ghoorkha party came up within charging distance and made their
rush.
"Fix bayonets!" cried Bracy. "The enemy may come at us;" and the
little, dagger-like weapons clicked and clicked as they flashed in the
sunshine.
But Bracy and Gedge got in a couple more shots before their foes sprang
up to charge them. Then a couple more dropped as they came on, while a
volley from below rattled out and made their attack feeble and aimless,
though they reached their goal, one to make a slash at Gedge as he was
pinned by the lad's bayonet, while two more struck at Bracy. Then the
Ghoorkhas were upon them, racing over the snow, their crooked knives
flashing, and the remaining enemy were fleeing for their lives,
scattering far and wide, with their pursuers overtaking man after man,
whose white-coats made blots on the glistening snow, and many a terrible
stain. Then a whistle rang out as an officer came up to the stone at
the double, sword in hand.
"Hullo, here!" he cried; "who, in the name of wonder, are you? I
couldn't get up in time. My boys didn't do that?"
Bracy's lips parted, but no sound came.
"No, sir," panted Gedge; "it was the straight knives did it, not them
pretty little blades."
"I'm glad of that. I was afraid my boys had made a mistake. But who
are you?"
"Private Willyum Gedge, in the 404th Fusiliers; and here's my
lieutenant, Mr Bracy, sir. We was coming from the fort to fetch you."
"Ah!" cried the officer. "How is it with them there?"
"All right, sir; but hard pushed when we come away. Ain't got such a
thing as a doctor about yer, have you?"
"Yes, yes. My boys shall carry you down. All right," he cried as a
bugle rang out from below with the recall; and by that time the little
group were surrounded by some twenty of the active Ghoorkhas, for the
most part with a begonia-leaved kukri in hand, laughing, chattering, and
ready to dance with delight around the two British soldiers they had
saved.
Meanwhile their officer was down on one knee rendering first aid to the
wounded, the knife of one of the enemy having slashed Bracy's thigh,
which was bleeding profusely; and a havildar of the Ghoorkhas was
cleverly bandaging Gedge's left arm, chattering to him merrily in broken
English the while.
"Try and swallow a drop more," said the officer to Bracy, who was
reviving a little, and smiled his thanks, his eyes wandering round
directly after in search of something, till a movement on the part of
their rescuers enabled him to see Gedge, to whom he feebly held out his
hand.
"Much hurt?" he said faintly.
"Tidy, sir. Smarts a lot; but I don't mind, sir. Say you've not got it
bad."
"Bad enough, my lad; but we've won."
Gedge turned to the officer with a wild, questioning look in his eyes,
for Bracy sank back, half-fainting.
"A bad, clean cut; that's all," said the officer, smiling encouragement.
"But it ain't all, sir," cried Gedge passionately. "He's badly hurt
besides. Crippled in the leg."
"Ah! and you fought like that! Well, we must get him down to the
doctor; he is not far below. Ambulance party here."
"Beg pardon, sir; why not lay him on the stone again, and let him slide
down easy? I can ride, too, and steer."
"I don't understand you, my lad," said the officer, looking at Gedge as
if he thought him wandering.
He soon did comprehend, though; and the little Ghoorkhas cheered with
delight as, with Bracy lying upon the sheepskin-coats, the stony sledge
went gliding slowly down the slope, half-a-dozen of the little fellows
forming its escort, and ready to check it from breaking away, till the
end of the snowfield was reached, and the two sufferers were soon after
being well tended by the doctor in the temporary camp.
This was near the fir-wood hold by the enemy the night before--the
enemy, after heavy loss, having been scattered far and wide.