drew trigger as he spoke, and as the smoke rose and he looked up, loading mechanically the while, he caught sight of a long gun dropping swiftly down, barrel first, to fall close by one of the camels, grunting and moaning as it bore its balanced load along the shelf.
“Mine,” cried Gedge. “I hit the chap as he was looking down. I wants that there long gas-pipe to take home.”
“Thank you, Gedge,” said Bracy in a low voice. “I believe you’ve saved my life.”
“Not me, sir; he shot first, but it did look near.”
“Horribly, my lad, and he’d have had me next time.”
“Think so, sir?” said the lad, taking aim again. “Well, there’s another on ’em shooting, and I want to get him if I can. Stop him from committing murder, too.”
Gedge took a long aim, and his finger trembled about the trigger for nearly a minute, but he did not fire; and all the while, evidently set in motion by a good strong party of the enemy, the stones came crashing and thundering down, in spite of the firing kept up by the covering sections, whose rifle-bullets spattered and splashed upon the rocks, and often started tiny avalanches of weathered débris.
Then all at once Gedge fired, and the long barrel, which had been thrust out from the little breastwork and sent down dangerous shots time after time, was suddenly snatched back, and the lad reloaded, looking smilingly at the lieutenant the while.
“Good shot,” said Sergeant Gee importantly. “You didn’t do your firing-practice for nothing, my man.”
“Did you hit him, Gedge?” cried Bracy eagerly.
“Yes, sir; he had it that time. I could ha’ done it afore if he’d ha’ showed hisself.”
“But he did at last.”
“That he didn’t, sir, on’y his shadder on the stone, and I aimed at that.”
“Nonsense!” cried the Sergeant.
“Ah, well, you’ll see,” said Gedge, and he turned with a grin to his officer. “I foun’ as I should never hit him strite forrard, sir, so I thinked it out a bit, and then aimed at his shadder, and it was like taking him off the cushion – fired at the stone where I could see the shadder of his head.”
“Ah! a ricochet,” cried Bracy.
“That’s it, sir; a rickyshay.”
The stones continued to fall without effect; but no one above attempted to expose himself again to the deadly fire from below.
Suddenly Bracy started from his place.
“Up with you, my lads; forward!”
Waving his sword, he made a rush, leading his men along the deadly-looking piece of road swept by the stones from above, for the rear-guard had passed in safety; and, with his breath coming thick and fast, he dashed forward, knowing full well that their first movement would be the signal for the stones to come down thick and fast. He was quite right; for, as the men cheered and dashed after their two officers, block after block came whirring down, crashing, bounding, shivering, and seeming to fill the air with fragments so thickly that it was quite impossible to believe the passage of that hundred exposed yards could be accomplished in safety. But they got across untouched, and the men cheered again as they clustered about their officers, the precipitous spot where they now stood being sheltered from the danger, apparently inaccessible even to the enemy.
“Bravo, my lads!” cried the Captain.
“Splendidly done,” said Bracy, breathless, “and not a man hurt.”
“All here?” said Captain Roberts.
“Yes, sir;” “Yes, sir,” came in a scattered volley of words.
“No – stop!” said Bracy excitedly. “Where’s Gedge?”
There was a dead silence, the men looking at one another and then back along the stone-strewed track, only a third of which was visible. But there was no sign of the missing man, and after a word or two with his brother officer Bracy doubled back, followed by Sergeant Gee, till they had rounded a bend of the track and could command the whole distance. As they halted to examine the road, another stone fell from above, struck the road, and then bounded off into the valley.
“There he is,” cried Bracy excitedly, thrusting his sword back in its scabbard. “Just beyond where that stone fell.”
“Yes, sir; I see him now. It’s all over with the poor lad. Here, sir; don’t, sir. What are you going to do?”
“Do? Fetch him in,” said Bracy sharply.
“No, sir; don’t, sir. It’s like going to a ’orrid death,” faltered the Sergeant, whose face was of a clayey hue. “You mustn’t go, sir. You ought to order me to fetch him in, and I will if you tell me.”
“I’m not going to tell our lads to do what I daren’t do myself,” said Bracy coldly. “They can’t see us here – can they?”
The Sergeant glanced upward, but the view in that direction was cut off by projecting masses of stone.
“No, sir; they can’t see us here.”
“Then here goes,” cried the young officer, drawing a deep breath and pressing his helmet down upon his head.
“No, sir; don’t – ” began the Sergeant in tones of expostulation; but he did not finish, for before the second word had left his lips Bracy was bounding along as if running in an impediment race, leaping masses of stone, avoiding others, and making for where he could see the motionless figure; of Gedge still grasping his rifle and lying face downward among the stones.
A yell arose from above as Bracy bounded into view, and stones began to fall again; while, upon reaching the fallen man, the young officer, completely ignoring the terrible peril in which he stood, bent down, passed his arms about the waist, raised him, and with a big effort threw him over his shoulder; and then turned and started back, carrying the poor fellow’s rifle in his right hand.
The yells from above increased, and before Bracy had gone half-a-dozen yards of the return journey there was a loud whish, and he stopped short, for a block of stone struck the path not a yard before him, and then bounded off. For a moment or two Bracy felt mentally stunned by the close approach of a horrible death; then, recovering himself, he strode on again, feeling strongly that it was more perilous to stand still than to go on, with every step taking him nearer to safety.
There was an intense desire burning within him to try and run, but the rugged path forbade that, and he tramped slowly on with his load, with the air seeming to his heated imagination to be thick with the falling missiles which came hurtling around.
“The next must do it,” he found himself muttering, as he went on with what, though only a matter of minutes, seemed to be a long journey, before, coming confusedly as it were out of a dream, he heard the cheering of his men, and Sergeant Gee and three more relieved him of his load, while the crash and rattle of the falling stones seemed to be far behind.
“Hooray!” A tremendously hearty British cheer – only that of a company, but as loud it seemed as if given by the whole regiment; and the next thing out of the confused dream was the feeling of his hand being
