And yet, though he kept up a cheerful appearance, Lisle's heart was
often very heavy. The sight of the British officers continually
recalled his father to his memory. But a short time back he had
been with him, and now he was gone for ever. At times it seemed
almost impossible that it could be so. He had been his constant
companion when off duty; had devoted much time to helping him
forward in his studies; had never, so far as he could remember,
spoken a harsh word to him.
It seemed like a dream, those last hours he had passed by his
father's bedside. Many times he lay awake in the night, his face
wet with tears. But with reveille he would be up, laughing and
joking with the soldiers, and raising a smile even on the face of
the gravest.
It had taken him but a very short time to make himself at home in
the regiment. The men sometimes looked at him with surprise, he was
so different from themselves. They bore their hardships well, but
it was with stern faces and grim determination; while this young
soldier made a joke of them.
Sometimes he was questioned closely, but he always turned the
questions off with a laugh. He had learned the place where his
supposed cousin came from and, while sticking to this, he said that
a good fairy must have presided over his birth; information that
was much more gravely received than given, for the natives have
their superstitions, and believe, as firmly as the inhabitants of
these British islands did, two or three hundred years ago, in the
existence of supernatural beings, good and bad.
"If you have been blessed by a fairy," one of the elder men
suggested, "doubtless you will go through this campaign without
harm. They are very powerful, some of these good people, and can
bestow long life as well as other gifts."
"I don't know whether she will do that. She certainly gave me high
spirits. I used to believe that what my mother said happened to
her, the night after I was born, was not true, but only a dream.
She solemnly declared that it was not, but I have always been
famous for good spirits; and she may have been right, after all."
There was nothing Lisle liked better than being on night picket
duty. Other men shirked it, but to him there was something
delightful to stand there almost alone, rifle in hand, watching the
expanse of snow for a moving figure. There was a charm in the dead
silence. He liked to think quietly of the past and, somehow, he
could do so far better, while engaged on this duty, than when lying
awake in his little tent. The expanse and stillness calmed him, and
agreed far more with his mood than the camp.
His sight was keen, even when his thoughts were farthest away and,
three times, he sent a bullet through a lurking Pathan who was
crawling up towards him, astonishing his comrades by the accuracy
of his aim.
"I suppose," he said, when congratulated upon the third occasion on
which he had laid one of the enemy low, "that the good fairy must
have given me a quick eye, as well as good spirits."
"It is indeed extraordinary that you, a young recruit, should not
only make out a man whom none of us saw; but that you should, each
time, fetch him down at a distance of three or four hundred yards."
"I used to practice with my father's rifle," he said. "He was very
fond of shikari, and I often went out with him. It needs a keener
sight to put a bullet between the eyes of a tiger, than to hit a
lurking Pathan."
So noted did he become for the accuracy of his aim that one of the
native officers asked him, privately, if he would like to be always
put on night duty.
"I should like it every other night," he said. "By resting every
alternate night, and by snatching a couple of hours' sleep before
going on duty, when we arrive at the end of a day's march in good
time, I can manage very well."
"I will arrange that for you," the officer said. "Certainly, no one
would grudge you the duty."
One night, when there had been but little opposition during the
day, Lisle was posted on a hill where the picket consisted of ten
men; five of whom were on the crest, while the other five lay down
in the snow. The day had been a hard one, and Lisle was less
watchful than usual. It seemed to him that he had not closed his
eyes for a minute, as he leant on his rifle; but it must have been
much longer, for he suddenly started with a feeling that something
was wrong, and saw a number of dark figures advancing along the
crest towards him. He at once fired a shot, and fell back upon the
next sentry. Dropping behind rocks, they answered the fire which
the enemy had already opened upon them.
The whole picket quickly gathered and, for a time, checked the
advance of the enemy; but these were too numerous to be kept at a
distance, and parties of them pressed forward on each flank.
"We must retire till we can find better shelter," the sub-officer
in command said. "We shall soon have reinforcements up from the
camp, when it is seen that we are seriously engaged. Fall back,
men, steadily. Take advantage of every bit of cover, but keep as
well together as possible, without risk."
Firing steadily, they made their way down the hill, and finally
took up a position among a clump of rocks. Two had been shot dead,
and two others were wounded; and it was because these could not be
left behind that the stand was made. The two wounded men, though
partially disabled and unable to crawl, could still use their
rifles; and the little party kept up so hot a fire that, though the
enemy were massed from twenty to thirty yards away, they could not
be brought to unite in a general attack; not even by the shouts and
yells of their comrades behind, and a furious beating of tom-toms.
Illustration: Lisle gives the alarm.
The defenders were all lying down, each of them having chosen a
position where he could see through a crevice between the rocks.
Lisle was lying next to the sergeant. Presently the latter gave an
exclamation, fired his rifle, and shifted his position behind the
rock.
"Mutteh Ghar," he said, "I have seen you bring down three of the
skulking ruffians. Do you see those two there close together, about
forty yards away? There is a man behind them who has just carried
off two of my fingers.
"Keep your eye on those rocks. Just above where they touch each
other there is an opening, through which you can see the snow
behind. That is where he fired from. Oblige me by putting a ball in
his head, when he raises it."
A couple of minutes passed. Lisle was lying with his rifle on the
spot. Presently the opening was obscured, and he fired at once.
"Thank you!" the sergeant said. "You got him, sure enough. The head
did not disappear to one side or to the other, but went straight
back. I fancy that you must have hit him between the eyes."
Presently the enemy's fire became still more furious and, several
times, some of them rose and ran two paces forward, but only to
fall prone under the defenders' fire.
"I expect they see help coming up," Lisle said, "and are making a
last effort to wipe us out before they arrive.
"I think they will try a rush," he continued, in a louder voice;
"see that your magazines are filled up, lads, and don't waste a
shot if they come at us."
A minute later there was a shrill and prolonged cry and, at once,
twenty dark figures burst from their shelter and rushed forward.
The defenders also sprang to their feet, and their rifles flashed
out with a stream of fire. But the vacancies thus caused in the
enemy's ranks were immediately filled.
"Now with your bayonets," the sergeant shouted. "Keep in a close
body, and do you two wounded men cover us with a constant fire."
Then, with a cheer, the six men and the sergeant rushed forward.
Much as the Afridis feared the bayonet, confident in their strength
they withstood the charge. They had, fortunately, emptied their
rifles before rushing forward but, drawing their knives, they
fought fiercely. These, however, were no match for the bayonets
and, consequently, they suffered heavily.
Three of the Pioneers received severe gashes. The group were
brought to a standstill, and they stood in a little circle while
the attack continued. One sepoy was stabbed to the heart by a
fanatic, who rushed at his bayonet and, pushing himself along, fell
dead as he struck his fatal blow.
Things were looking very bad. Scarce one had escaped without a
wound, and the sergeant had dropped, bleeding profusely; when, to
their delight, a volley burst from within fifty yards of them and,
in an instant, their assailants turned and bolted.
After the sergeant had dropped, Lisle had somehow taken his place,
cheering the men on and lending his aid to those most severely
pressed. Once or twice he managed, after despatching an assailant,
to slip a couple of cartridges into his rifle, and so added to the
execution. Indeed, it was in no small account due to his exertions,
after the sergeant fell, that the resistance was maintained.
A minute later, the active little Ghoorkhas rushed forward; and
those who first arrived passed the little knot of defenders with a
cheer, and set off in pursuit of the enemy. Presently, however, one
of their officers came up.
"You have had a stiff fight, lads," he said, "and by the look of
the ground round about, you must have defended yourselves
gallantly; for there are a dozen dead bodies lying near you, and I
can see many more, a little way up the hill. What have been your
losses?"
The sergeant raised himself on his elbow.
"We had two killed, as we came down," he said, "and two others
wounded. I believe one has fallen here, and I think most of us are
wounded with knife thrusts."
"Well, you have done splendidly, sergeant. I will detach men to
help to carry you and the wounded men down to the camp. The others
can accompany them. We shall take up the work, now; but I am afraid
we sha'n't have any fighting, though we may shoot down a few as
they make off. I fancy, however, that the lesson you have given the
beggars has taken all fight out of them."
When half down the hill, they met a party of the Pioneers coming
out. The Ghoorkhas at once handed the wounded over to them, and
started up the hill again. The sergeant had fainted from loss of
blood, and no questions were asked till the injured men were all
placed in little hospital tents, and their wounds attended to. Two
of them had bullet wounds, and three had received knife wounds on
the shoulder or arm. Only Lisle and one other escaped unhurt. As
soon as the wounds had been attended to all, except the sergeant,
and two more seriously wounded than the others, were sent off to
their tents.
One of these was Lisle's tent fellow. He said:
"Mutteh Ghar, I don't know what to say to you. You seem but a lad,
and a light-hearted one; but you have proved yourself the best of
us all. I was lying next to you, and I will swear that you brought
down eight of them with your rifle, before they charged. Even while
I was fighting I always heard your voice, like a trumpet; and after
the sergeant had fallen you seemed to take command, as if it was
your right. You saved my life when you bayoneted two of the three
who were grappling with me, and you seemed to be everywhere."
"I did what little I could," Lisle said. "I certainly did not
intend to take the command, when the sergeant fell; but somehow I
could not help shouting and, as our circle had closed in so, I
slipped out of my place and fought wherever the pressure was
greatest."
"There is no doubt," the soldier said seriously, "that your
mother's statement was a true one, and that a fairy did promise her
to look after you. Out of the eleven of us, only one besides
yourself has escaped without a wound; and yet none of us exposed
himself more than you did. I shall not forget that I owe my life to
you. We must find some other name for you. You can't be called 'the
boy' any longer."
In the morning, one of the colonel's orderlies was told to fetch
Lisle.
"The colonel wishes to see you, Mutteh Ghar."
Lisle put on his uniform with some uneasiness. He was conscious
that, in the excitement of the fight of the night before, he had
frequently shouted in English; and he feared that the sergeant had
reported this. However, he marched to the spot where the colonel
and a group of officers were standing, and then stood at attention.
"Mutteh Ghar," the colonel said, "the sergeant this morning made
his report; and he states that, though all his men behaved
admirably, you distinguished yourself in a singular manner. He says
that before the final attack began you had killed eight or ten of
the Pathans, that you were fighting beside him when he was wounded,
and that you then seemed to take the command. Although lying on the
ground, he was able to see what was going on; and he says that but
for your cheers, and for the manner in which you went to the
assistance of men hard pressed, he is convinced that the whole
detachment would have been killed before the Ghoorkhas arrived."
"I had no idea of assuming the command, sir; but my tongue always
runs fast, and I dare say I did shout, almost unconsciously. I
think the sergeant has made more of my doings than I deserved."
"I don't think it likely. It is no small thing for so young a
soldier to so distinguish himself. The sergeant will not be able to
resume his duties for some time, and I therefore appoint you a
corporal; and shall put your name in orders, today, for very
distinguished service. How long is it since you joined the
regiment?"
"A short time before we marched."
"Well, you have done honour to the corps and, in the name of myself
and my officers, I thank you."
Lisle saluted, and returned to the lines.
"The colonel has made me a corporal," he answered, as the others
gathered round and questioned him.
A cheer burst from them, for his tent companion, and the other men
who had returned, had all spoken in the highest terms of his
conduct. Lisle was quite confused by the heartiness of their
reception.
"He is a wonderfully young fellow," the colonel said, as he left
them. "The sergeant said that he was young, but really he looks
little more than a boy. Curiously, his face reminds me of someone,
though I cannot say whom; and yet, if he only joined a short time
before we marched, it is not likely that I should have noticed him
before."
"It was the same thing with me, colonel," the major said. "I have
noticed him several times on the march and, while the rest of the
regiment were plodding on in silence, he always seemed the centre
of a merry group. I have often said, to myself, I wished we had a
few more men in the regiment who could take the hardships they had
to undergo as lightly and as merrily as he does. His face has also
struck me as being somehow familiar.
"I was speaking to the sergeant about him, and he said that he was
the most popular man in his company, and a general favourite. His
temperament is altogether different from that of the majority of
our soldiers, which is earnest and quiet."
Two or three of the other officers also spoke of noticing the
cheerful influence he seemed to have on the men.
"I must have a talk with him," the colonel said, "after the
campaign is over, and find out something about it. It is quite
evident that his pluck is as great as his cheerfulness, and it is
certainly very extraordinary that a young and recently-joined
soldier should have such an influence with men many years older
than himself. If I am not mistaken, we shall find him in the ranks
of the native officers, before long. Considering his age, and what
he has already done, he may well hope some day, if he escapes being
killed, to be risaldar major of the regiment.
"I should almost fancy that he must be the son of some native of
good family, but without influence to secure him a post as officer;
and that he has run away to endeavour to fight his way up to a
commission."
Henceforth Lisle stood in high regard among his comrades, and was
known as the 'fighting boy' in the regiment. He himself was always
ready to answer to any name by which he was addressed. He had no
desire to push himself forward to any prominence among them, or of
thinking himself any way above his comrades; but naturally he was
pleased at finding himself generally liked. He had come to see the
fighting, and take part in it, and had no thought of distinguishing
himself especially; as he intended to leave the regiment as soon as
the campaign was over, and carry out the plan which his father had
formed for him. He feared to excite the jealousy of his comrades
and, though there were no signs of this, he felt that his promotion
caused some difference in the manner of other men towards him.
This was so marked, indeed, that he could not help thinking that
the men by whose side he had fought had reported to their comrades
that, in the heat of the fight, he had several times shouted in
English; and that there were general suspicions as to his identity.
As long as this was not communicated to the officers it did not
matter; and indeed this was not likely for, if the feeling was
noticed by the native officers, it would soon come to the ears of
Gholam Singh, who would at once order the men to keep silence
concerning it.
Gradually his nickname changed, and he became known among the
sepoys of the regiment as the "young sahib." He protested against
it, but in vain. It was not, however, without its advantages. At
the end of a long march, the men who had brought in firewood always
handed him some. Men would offer to clean his rifle, cook his
dinner, and do other little offices for him. He would, however,
never accept these kind offers.
"Why do they call you sahib?" one of the English officers asked
him, when he heard him so addressed.
"I do not know," he answered. "It is a silly joke of the men. I
have protested against it, without success. If they chose to call
me 'colonel,' I could not help it. I suppose it is because they see
that I am, like the white officers, always cheerful and good
tempered. There is certainly no other reason that I know of."
"The regiment have taken to call Mutteh Ghar 'the young sahib,'"
the officer reported, at mess that day. "I asked him about it, and
he says no doubt it is because he is, like us, always good tempered
and cheerful."
"He is certainly very unlike the others," the major said. "I have
no doubt the men consider it a great compliment, to him, to call
him so."
"Do you know, colonel," one of the subalterns said, "the idea has
struck me that he may be young Bullen, who may have joined the
regiment surreptitiously, instead of going down to Calcutta."
There was silence among the others.
"It can hardly be that, Macdonald," the colonel said, "though it is
certainly curious that we seemed to feel that we knew his face,
when he came up before us. The young scamp could never have played
such an audacious trick upon us."
"I don't know, colonel," the major said, "he is just the sort of
lad that would try such a scheme. I know I have twice seen him
talking with my butler; who was, as you know, Captain Bullen's
servant."
"Well, it may possibly be so," the colonel said, "but at any rate
it is only suspicion, and we had better leave the matter as it
stands. If it is young Bullen, I don't know that he has done a bad
thing for himself. If he goes on as he has begun, his experience
will go a long way towards getting him a commission; and he will be
a great deal better off than if he were grinding up for two years
in England. Such a strong recommendation as I could give him would
be of great value to him and, moreover, he has a claim on the
ground that his father was killed on service.
"At any rate, we must take no action, whatever, at present. It is
no slight thing he has done; that is, if it be he. Few of us would
care to go through this campaign as sepoys--their work is terribly
hard, poor fellows--to say nothing of the unpleasantness of having
to live among the natives. I certainly shall consider that he has
well earned a commission, if he comes through the campaign."
"But he is too young for one," the major said.
"I should not think it necessary to mention his age, in
recommending him," the colonel said. "We know that he is doing a
man's work, manfully. He has earned, as you say, the general liking
of the men; and is a deal better fitted for a commission than half
the fellows they send out to us.
"Well, we may all be mistaken, and he may only be a brave young
fellow of good ancestry; so we will think no more of it, at
present, and we will wait to see how things turn out, before
showing any signs of our suspicions."
Now, however, that the idea had been mooted, the officers, as they
went up and down the line, looked closer at Lisle than they had
hitherto done; and all agreed that, in spite of his uniform and his
colour, he was Captain Bullen's son. Ignorant of their suspicions,
Lisle carried out his work, as usual, as a sub-officer. He shared
the shelter tents of the men, and performed his duties regularly.
He still carried a rifle; and indeed, if this had not been the rule
he would not have accepted his promotion, as he preferred fighting
with a weapon to which he was accustomed.
His work during the day was but little changed. When the regiment
was marching in a column, four abreast, he had his appointed place
by the side of it and, when they arrived in camp, it was part of
his duty to see that the little tents were all pitched, rations
distributed, kits handed over, and the men made as comfortable as
possible. No sub-officer was obeyed with greater alacrity and, when
he returned from his picket in the early morning, he always found
his ration ready cooked for him.
It was impossible for him to help feeling pleased at these signs of
the liking of the men, and he redoubled his efforts to cheer them
on the line of march; and to aid any men who seemed unable to climb
up through the snow, by carrying their rifles and ammunition
pouches for them. He had long since grown accustomed to carrying
weights, and was able to keep up with the most seasoned marchers.
On two or three occasions Gholam Singh was able to report
favourably of his conduct, in thus relieving men of their arms. The
colonel always took these communications in the ordinary way.
"There is no doubt," he said, when the conversation turned on the
subject, "that Gholam Singh must have been an accessory to young
Bullen's plot. I have been looking up the list of the deceased
sepoys, and I find that a recruit of the same name died, two days
before we marched. In some way young Bullen, if it is really the
boy, contrived to take the dead man's place and name. This could
have been very well done, without any of us knowing. None of us
were familiar with the dead man's appearance, and Gholam Singh, and
some of the other native officers, must have arranged that he
should take his place. If this has been the case I shall, of
course, be obliged to speak sharply to the risaldar major; but in
reality I shall not be very angry with him, for he will certainly
have done young Bullen a good turn."
"I am sure it is Bullen," one of the officers said, "for when I came
up suddenly behind him, today, I heard him whistling an English tune.
Of course, it may have been played by the band when we were in camp,
but whistling is not a common Punjabi accomplishment, and I don't
know that I ever heard native boys whistle before. He stopped directly
I came up, but I could make no mistake about the tune; for I hung
behind a little, and was amused at seeing the men marching by him
trying to keep step, while they were over their knees in snow. I
caught a grin on their faces at their failure, though they looked as
grave as usual when they saw me."
"Well, we must let things go on as they are," the colonel said,
"until we get to Chitral. Then we will have him up, and get to the
bottom of the affair. If it turns out to be Bullen, he must at once
leave the ranks and join us again. I shall then have to ask for a
commission for him, and give him temporary rank as junior
lieutenant, until an answer to my recommendation arrives. Even if
it is not Bullen, it may be--unlikely as it seems--some other
Englishman; but in any case, we could not allow an Englishman to be
in the ranks."
"I don't think there is any doubt about it, colonel," the major
said. "I have had a good look at him, several times, and could
almost swear to his identity, well as he is got up."
Lisle pursued the regular course of his work, in happy
unconsciousness that any suspicion as to his identity entered the
minds of his officers. His spirits were now not forced; the
fatiguing marches, the night pickets, and the pressure of his duty
so occupied his thoughts that he had little time to dwell upon his
loss. It was now three months since his father had died, and yet it
seemed to him in the far distance, so much had happened since.
Occasionally he thought with disgust that, when this was all over,
he must return to England to the uncle he had never seen, and
become a schoolboy, spending his days in study; and perhaps, in the
end, fail to pass his examination. He would be a stranger amongst
strangers. He could not expect that his uncle should feel any
particular interest in a lad he had never before seen, and he drew
pictures to himself of the long, friendless interval before, even
at the best, he could again don a uniform.
But upon such thoughts he did not allow himself to dwell. It had to
be done, and he would, he supposed, get through it all right. He
might find friends among the fellows at the same crammer's. At any
rate, three years would soon pass, and he must make the best of it.
"I suppose the crammer will be in London," he said. "Everything
there will be new to me and, no doubt, I shall find it very
interesting. They say that it is an immense place, to which even
the biggest Indian city is but a mere trifle. It will be curious to
see everyone in dark clothes, with none of the gay colouring of
India.
"Father often said that the pleasantest time of his life was the
years he spent in England, while he was cramming for his exam.
There were theatres, and all sorts of other places of amusement. He
had the best of companions and, after they had finished their work,
they were at liberty to do pretty nearly whatever they liked.
"I think I shall get my uncle to send me to the same crammer as
father went to, if he is still alive. I put down his address once,
in my pocketbook, and shall be able to find it again when I get
down to Calcutta, and recover my traps.
"Well, I need not worry myself by thinking of it, now. It will all
come some day, and I dare say I shall find it pleasant enough, when
I once get accustomed to it."
Such thoughts often passed through his mind at night for, during
the day, he had not a minute to himself. He was almost sure, now,
that the men had discovered his identity, by the many little marks
of kindness they had shown him, and by the manner in which his
fellow sub-officers always spoke to him with a certain air of
respect. This, however, did not worry him. He felt certain that
they would keep the secret; and at the end of the campaign he must,
of course, disclose himself and obtain his discharge. Until then,
no one would have time to think much of the matter, still less find
any opportunity of reporting it to Colonel Kelly.
He wondered how the colonel would take it, when he went up to say
who he was. He did not think he would be very seriously angry,
though probably he would wig him sharply. At any rate he had not
done badly, and had brought no discredit to the regiment.
He had unconsciously adopted the regimental belief that he was a
lucky man, and should get through the campaign unhurt. He was
particularly anxious that he should do so as, were he confined in
hospital for a few days, he would have no opportunity of renewing
his stain; in which case he would undoubtedly be detected. They had
advanced so far now, however, that even if he were discovered, they
could hardly send him back before he got to Chitral. He might, of
course, be detained at Reshun, which would be a horrible nuisance.
One night his camp mate said to him:
"You ought to be with the officers, Bullen sahib. It is not right
for you to be working as we do."
"Why do you call me Bullen Sahib, Pertusal?"
"Everyone knows it, sahib. Little by little we nave found you out.
We had some suspicions from the first, but now we are sure of it.
Only your father's son would have fought as you did on the hill
and, when we came to look very closely at you, we all recognized
you, in spite of your dye."
"Then I wish I hadn't fought quite so hard, Pertusal, for I had
hoped that I had altogether escaped recognition. I thought that I
could have gone through the campaign without anyone suspecting who
I was."
"We did not suspect at first, sahib. We quite took you for one of
ourselves. No, the cheerfulness with which you bore your hardships,
and your readiness to assist anyone, surprised us. You were so
different from us all that we could not help wondering who you
were; but I don't think any of us really suspected that you were
Captain Bullen's son, till that fight. I know that when I was busy
fighting, sorely pushed as we were, I wondered when I heard you
shout in English; and I had heard you call out so often, when you
were playing cricket with the officers, that I recognized your
voice at once.
"Then the wonder that we felt about you ceased. It seemed for a
moment impossible, for I had seen you go off with the sick convoy.
Then it seemed to me that it was just the thing that Captain
Bullen's son might be expected to do. You would naturally want to
see fighting, but I did wonder how you managed to come back and get
enlisted into the regiment. I remember, now, that I wondered a
little the first night you joined. You were in uniform and, as a
rule, recruits don't go into uniform for some time after they have
joined. It was therefore remarkable that you should turn up in
uniform, rifle and all."
"It was the uniform of the original Mutteh Ghar," Lisle said. "My
servant had managed to get it; and the story that I was the man's
cousin, and was therefore permitted to take his place, was natural
enough to pass."
"But some of our officers must have helped you, sahib?"
"Well, I won't say anything about that. I did manage to join in the
way I wanted, and you and your comrade were both very kind to me."
"That was natural enough, sahib. You were a young recruit, and we
understood that you were put with us two old soldiers in order that
we might teach you your duty. It was not long, however, before we
found that there was very little teaching necessary for, at the end
of a week, you knew your work as well as any man in the regiment.
We thought you a wonder, but we kept our thoughts to ourselves.
"Now that we know who you are, all the regiment is proud that your
father's son has come among us, and shared our lot down to the
smallest detail. I noticed that you were rather clumsy with your
cooking, but even in that respect you soon learned how things
should be done.
"I suppose, sahib, we shall lose you at the end of the campaign?"
"Yes; I shall have to start for England, at once; for in order to
gain a commission, I must study hard for two or three years. Of
course, I shall then have to declare myself to the officers, in
order to get my discharge. I am afraid that the colonel will be
very angry, but I cannot help that. I am quite sure, however, that
he will let me go, as soon as he knows who I am. It will be rather
fun to see the surprise of the officers."
"I don't think the colonel will be angry, sahib. He might have
been, if you had not done so well; but as it is, he cannot but be
pleased that Captain Bullen's son should have so distinguished
himself, even in the 32nd Pioneers, who have the reputation of
being one of the best fighting regiments in all India."
"Well, I hope so, Pertusal. At any rate, I am extremely glad I
came. I have seen what fighting is, and that under the most severe
conditions. I have proved to myself that I can bear hardships
without flinching; and I shall certainly be proud, all my life,
that I have been one in the column for the relief of Chitral--that
is to say, if we are the first."
"We shall be the first," the soldier said, positively. "It is hard
work enough getting our baggage over the passes; but it will be
harder still for the Peshawar force, encumbered with such a train
as they will have to take with them.
"Ah! Sahib, if only our food were so condensed that we could carry
a supply for twelve days about us, what would we not be able to do?
We could rout the fiercest tribe on the frontier, without
difficulty. We could march about fifteen or twenty miles a day, and
more than that, if necessary. We could do wonders, indeed."
"I am afraid we shall never discover that," Lisle said. "The German
soldiers do indeed carry condensed meat in sausages, and can take
three or four days' supplies with them; but we have not yet
discovered anything like food of which men could carry twelve days'
supply. We may some day be able to do it but, even if it weighed
but a pound a day, it would add heavily to the load to be carried."
"No one would mind that," Pertusal said. "Think what a comfort it
would be, if we could make our breakfast before starting, eat a
little in the middle of the day, and be sure of supper directly we
got into camp; instead of having to wait hours and hours, and
perhaps till the next morning, before the baggage train arrived. I
would willingly carry double my present load, if I felt sure that I
would gain that advantage. I know that the officers have tins of
condensed milk, one of which can make more than a gallon; and that
they carry cocoa, and other things, of which a little goes a long
way. Now, if they could condense rice and ghee like that, we should
be able to carry all that is necessary with us for twelve days.
Mutton we could always get on a campaign, for the enemy's flocks
are at our disposal; and it must be a bare place, indeed, where we
could not find enough meat to keep us going. It is against our
religion to eat beef, but few of us would hesitate to do so, on a
campaign; and oxen are even more common than sheep.
"It is very little baggage we should have to take with us, then.
Twenty ponies would carry sufficient for the regiment; and if
government did but buy us good mules, we could always rely upon
getting them into camp before dark. See what an advantage that
would be! Ten men would do for the escort; whereas, at present, a
hundred is not sufficient."
"Well, I wish it could be so," Lisle said. "But although some
articles of food might be compressed, I don't think we should ever
be able to compress rice or ghee. A handful of rice, when it is
boiled, makes enough for a meal; and I don't imagine that it could
possibly be condensed more than that."
"Well, it is getting late, and we march at daylight. Fortunately we
have not to undress, but have only to turn in as we are."