"Two or three days more, and we ought to be in Kandahar."
"We are to have a stiff brush or two before we get there," said the
major; "any hour now may bring us to close quarters."
There was another pause. Captain Forrester fidgeted about uneasily, and
presently said--
"It's possible, old man, only one of us may get through. If I am the
one who is left behind, will you promise me something?"
"You know I will."
"That boy of mine, Atherton, is somewhere, I'm as sure of it as that I'm
sitting here. He's vanished. My letters to Grangerham cannot all have
miscarried, and they certainly have none of them been answered. My
mother-in-law, as I told you, died in the south of England. The boy may
have been with her, or left behind in Grangerham, or he may be anywhere.
I told you of the letter I had from the school?"
"Yes; he had had an accident and gone home damaged--crippled, in fact."
"Yes," said Captain Forrester, with a groan, "crippled--and perhaps left
without a friend."
"You want me to promise to find him if you are not there to do it, and
be a father to him. You needn't ask it, old man, for I promise."
"I've nothing to leave him," said Captain Forrester, "except my sword
and this watch--"
"And the good name of a gallant soldier. I will, if it is left to me to
do it, take the boy all three."
"Thanks, Atherton. You know that I would do the same by you, old
fellow."
"You may have the chance. That girl of mine, you know," added the
major, with a tremble in his voice, "would have what little I have
saved, which is not much. She's a good girl, but she would need a
protector if I was not there."
"She shall have it," said his friend.
"I'm not sure that she's happy at Wildtree," continued the father, with
a smile, "despite the dog and his master. Rimbolt's a bookworm, and
doesn't see what goes on under his nose, and her aunt, as she says, is
an animated extinguisher. It always puzzled me how Rimbolt came to
marry Charlotte Halgrove."
"Halgrove? Was she the sister of your old college friend?"
"Yes. Rimbolt, Halgrove, and I were inseparable when we were at Oxford.
Did I ever tell you of our walking tour in the Lakes? We ruled a bee-
line across the map with a ruler and walked along it, neck or nothing.
Of course you know about it. We've sobered down since then. Rimbolt
married Halgrove's sister, and I married Rimbolt's. I had no sister, so
Halgrove remained a bachelor."
"What became of him?"
"I fancy he made a mess of it, poor fellow. He went in for finance, and
it was too much for him. Not that he lost his money; but he became a
little too smart. He dropped a hundred or two of mine, and a good deal
more of Rimbolt's--but he could spare it. The last I heard of him was
about twelve years ago. He had a partner called Jeffreys; a stupid
honest sort of fellow who believed in him. I had a newspaper sent me
with an account of an inquest on poor Jeffreys, who had gone out of his
mind after some heavy losses. There was no special reason to connect
Halgrove with the losses, except that Jeffreys would never have dreamed
of speculating if he hadn't been led on. And it's only fair to Halgrove
to say that after the event he offered to take charge of Jeffreys' boy,
at that time eight years old. That shows there was some good in him."
"Unless," suggested Captain Forrester, "there was some money along with
the boy."
"Well, I dare say if he's alive still, Rimbolt will know something of
him; so I may come across him yet," said the major; and there the
conversation ended.
Major Atherton's prophecy of a brush with the enemy was not long in
being fulfilled.
Early next day the expeditionary force was ordered forward, the cavalry
regiment in which the two friends were officers being sent ahead to
reconnoitre and clear the passes.
The march lay for some distance along a rocky valley, almost desolate of
habitations, and at parts so cumbered with rocks and stones as to be
scarcely passable by the horses, still less by the artillery, which
struggled forward in front of the main body. The rocks on the right
bank towered to a vast height, breaking here and there into a gorge
which admitted some mountain stream down into the river below, and less
frequently falling back to make way for a wild saddle-back pass into the
plains above.
Along such a course every step was perilous, for the enemy had already
been reported as hovering at the back of these ugly rocks, and might
show their teeth at any moment.
For an hour or two, however, the march continued uninterrupted. The few
scattered Afghans who had appeared for a moment on the heights above had
fallen back after exchanging shots, with no attempt at serious
resistance. The main body had been halted in the valley, awaiting the
return of the scouts. The horses had been unharnessed from the guns,
and the officers were snatching a hurried meal, when Captain Forrester
at the head of a few troopers scampered into the lines. The news
instantly spread that the enemy had been seen ahead, and was even then
being chased by the cavalry up one of the defiles to the right.
Instantly, and without even waiting for the word of command, every man
was in his place ready to go on. The guns, with Captain Forrester's
troop as escort, dashed forward to hold the defile; while the main body,
divided into two divisions--one to follow the guns, the other to reach
the plain above by a nearer pass--started forward into action.
The cavalry, meanwhile, with Major Atherton at their head, were already
engaged in a hot scrimmage.
Following their usual tactics, the Afghans, after exchanging shots at
the entrance of the pass, had turned tail and dashed through the defile,
with the English at their heels. Then, suddenly turning as they reached
the plain beyond, they faced round on their pursuers, not yet clear of
the rocky gorge. In the present instance, however, when within about a
hundred yards of the head of the column, they wheeled round again, and
once more bolted into the open.
A stern chase ensued over the rough broken ground, the enemy now and
then making a show of halting, but as often giving way and tempting the
cavalry farther out into the plain.
The Afghans numbered only about two hundred horsemen, but it was quite
evident from their tactics that they had a much larger body in reserve,
and Major Atherton was decidedly perplexed as to what he should do. For
if he pursued them too far, he might be cut off from his own men; if, on
the other hand, he made a dash and rode them down before they could get
clear, he might cut them off from their main body, and so clip the
enemy's wings.
The enemy settled the question for him. Just as he was looking round
for the first sign of Forrester and the guns in the pass, the plain
suddenly swarmed with Afghans. From every quarter they bore down on
him, horse and foot, and even guns, seeming almost to spring, like the
teeth of Cadmus, from the earth.
It was no time for hesitation or doubt. Retreat was out of the
question. Equally hopeless was it to warn the troops who were coming
up. There was nothing for it but to stand at bay till the main body
came up, and then, if they were left to do it, fight their way out and
join forces.
The major therefore brought his men to a corner of the rocks, where on
two sides, at any rate, attack would be difficult; and there, ordering
them to dismount and form square, stood grimly.
A cruel half-hour followed. Man after man of that little band went down
before the dropping fire of the enemy. Had the guns been able to
command the position, they would have fallen by tens and scores. Major
Atherton, in the middle of the square, had his horse shot under him
before five minutes were past. Alas! there was no lack of empty saddles
to supply the loss, for before a quarter of an hour had gone by, out of
a dozen officers scarcely half remained.
Still they stood, waiting for the first boom of the guns at the head of
the pass, and often tempted to break away from their posts and die
fighting. For of all a soldier's duties, that of standing still under
fire is the hardest.
Captain Forrester, dashing up the defile at the head of the artillery,
had been prepared to find a lively skirmish in progress between his own
comrades and the handful of Afghans who were luring them on. But when,
on emerging on to the plain, he found himself and the guns more than
half surrounded by the enemy, and no sign anywhere of Atherton, he felt
that the "brush" was likely to be a very stiff one.
The Afghans had set their hearts on those guns; that was evident by the
wild triumphant yell with which they charged down on them. Forrester
had barely time to order a halt and swing the foremost gun into action
when a pell-mell scrimmage was going on in the very midst of the
gunners. The first shot fired wildly did little or no execution, but it
warned Atherton that his time was come, and signalled to the troops
still toiling up the pass what to expect when they got through.
That fight round the guns was the most desperate of the day. The
Afghans knew that to capture them as they stood, meant the certain
annihilation of the British troops as they defiled into the plain.
Forrester knew it, too.
Unlike Atherton, he had no protected sides. The enemy was all round
him. The little troop at his command was barely able to cover one side
of the square; and the gunners, obliged to fight hand to hand where they
stood, were powerless to advance a step. Every moment was golden.
Already a distant bugle-note announced that Atherton's horse had broken
loose, and were somewhere within reach--probably cutting their way
through the guns. And within a few minutes the head of the column
ascending the defile would also come upon the scene. Hold the guns till
then, and all might yet be safe.
So decided Captain Forrester, as with a cheery smile on his handsome
face he shouted to his men to hold out, and fought like a lion beside
the foremost gun.
The Afghans, baffled by the stubborn resistance, and aware of the danger
of delay, hurled themselves upon that devoted little bond with a fury
before which nothing could stand. Man after man dropped across his gun;
but still Forrester shouted to his men and swung his sabre. It was no
time for counting heads. He hardly knew whether, when he shouted,
thirty, or twenty, or only ten shouted back. All he knew was the enemy
had not got the guns yet, and that was sufficient!
A bugle! Five minutes more, and they might still laugh at the foe. The
bugle-note came from Atherton's men, who at the first sound of the gun
had vaulted with a cheer to their horses and dashed towards the sound.
Many a brave comrade they left behind them, and many more dropped right
and left as they cut their way forward. Atherton, at their head, peered
eagerly through the dust and smoke. All he could see was a surging mass
of human beings, in the midst of which it was impossible to discern
anything but the flash of sabres, and at one spot a few British helmets
among the turbans of the enemy. That was enough for Major Atherton.
Towards that spot he waved on his men, and ordered his bugler to sound a
rousing signal. The bugler obeyed, and fell at the major's side before
the note had well ceased! The struggle round the guns increased and
blackened. One after another the British helmets went down, and the
wild shouts of the Afghans rose triumphantly above them.
At length Atherton saw a tall figure, bareheaded and black with smoke,
spring upon a gun-carriage, and with the butt end of a carbine fell two
or three of the enemy who scrambled up to dislodge him.
Atherton knew that form among a thousand, and he knew too that Forrester
was making his last stand.
"Cheer, men, and come on!" cried he to his men, rising in his stirrups
and leading the shout.
The head of the column, just then emerging from the gorge, heard that
shout, and answered it with a bugle flourish, as they fixed bayonets and
rushed forward to charge. At the same moment, a cheer and the boom of a
gun on the left proclaimed that the other half of the column had at that
moment reached the plain, and were also bearing down on the enemy's
flank.
But Atherton saw and heeded nothing but that tall heroic figure on the
carriage. At the first sound of the troopers' shout Forrester had
turned his head, smiling, and raised his carbine aloft, as though to
wave answer to the cheer. So he stood for a moment. Then he reeled and
fell back upon the gun he had saved.