you’re hit by a stone?”
“No, no. There, I’m better now. Here! That poor fellow Gedge! I hope he isn’t killed.”
They turned to the little group of men who surrounded poor Gedge, now lying on his back, with Gee upon one knee bending over him, and trying to give him some water from his canteen.
“Dead?” cried Bracy excitedly.
“’Fraid so, sir,” replied the Sergeant. “Stone hit him on the ’elmet, and I expect his head’s caved in.”
“Bathe his face with a handful of the water,” said Bracy sadly. “Poor lad! this was horribly sudden.”
Both he and Roberts looked down sadly at the stony face so lately full of mischievous animation, and in view of the perilous position in which they stood and the duty he had to do, the Captain was about to order the men to make an extempore stretcher of their rifles and the Sergeant’s strong netted sash, so that the retreat could be continued, when Gee dashed some water in the prostrate lad’s face.
The effect was marvellous. In an instant a spasm ran through the stony features. There was a fit of coughing and choking, and as the men around, always ready for a laugh, broke out, the supposed dead opened his eyes, stared blankly, and gasped out:
“Stow that! Here, who did it? Here, I’ll just wipe some one’s eye for that, here, I know – I – here – I s’y – I – er – Mr Bracy, sir! You wouldn’t play tricks with a fellow like that? Ah, I recklect now!”
The poor fellow’s hand went to his bare head, and he winced at the acute pain the touch gave him.
“I say, sir,” he said, “ketched me a spank right there. – Is my ’elmet spoiled?”
“Never mind your helmet, Gedge, my lad,” cried Bracy, who was bending over him. “There, you must lie still till we get something ready to carry you to the ambulance.”
“Kerry me, sir! What for? Ain’t going to croak, am I? Not me. Here, I’m all right, sir. Give’s a drink outer my bottle. – Hah! that’s good. – Drop more, please, Sergeant, – Thanky. – Hah! that is good. Feel as if I could drink like a squelchy-welchy. – Here, I s’y, where’s my rifle?”
“I’ve got it, pardner,” said one of the lads.
“Oh, that’s right. Ain’t got the stock skretched, hev it?”
“No, no; that’s all right, Bill.”
“Glad o’ that. Here, I s’y; I went down, didn’t I?”
“Yes, my lad; just in the middle of the worst bit where the stones were falling.”
“That was it – was it? Well, I did wonder they never hit nobody, sir, but I didn’t expect they’d hit me.”
“What are you going to do, my lad?” said the Captain sharply.
“Get up, sir. – Can’t lie here. ’Tain’t soft enough. I’m all right. Only feel silly, as if I’d been heving my fust pipe. – Thanky, Sergeant. – Here, it’s all right; I can stand. Who’s got my ’elmet?”
The poor fellow tottered a little, but the British pluck of his nature made him master the dizzy feeling, and the old familiar boyish grin broke out over his twitching white face as he took hold of the helmet handed to him and tried to put it on.
“Here, I s’y,” he cried, “no larks now; this ain’t in me.”
“Yes, that’s yours, Gedge,” said the Sergeant.
“Got such a dint in it, then, that it won’t go on.”
“No, my lad,” said Bracy. “Here, Sergeant, tie my handkerchief round his head.”
“Yes, sir; thank ye, sir. Here, hold still, Gedge,” cried the Sergeant.
“Well, I’m blest!” muttered the poor fellow; “there’s all one side puffed out like arf a bushel basket. Here, I’ve often heard of chaps having the swelled head when they’ve got on a bit; but I won’t show it, mateys. I won’t cut your company. – Thank ye, Sergeant.”
“Fall in,” cried the Captain. “Gedge, you’ll have to be carried. Two men. Sergeant, and change often.”
“I can walk, sir, please,” cried Gedge. “Let me try. If I can’t some un can carry me then.”
“Very well, try. – Forward.”
The march was resumed, but after a few steps the injured lad was glad to grasp the arm offered him by Gee.
“Thanky, Sergeant,” he said. “Just a bit dizzy now, and I don’t want to go over the side. Better soon; but, I say, did you fetch me in?”
“No: it was Mr Bracy,” said Gee gruffly.
“Oh, him!” said the lad quietly, and with a curious look in his eyes as he gazed in the young lieutenant’s direction. “Well, thank ye, sir; much obliged,” he said in an undertone. “I’ll say so to you some time. But I say, Sergeant, talk about having a head on; I’ve got it now.”
“Yes; but don’t talk. Hullo! they’re up above us again yonder.”
“What, the Dwat you may call ’ems?”
“I s’pose so,” said the Sergeant gruffly, as a stone crashed down close to the foremost man.
“And me not able to shoot!” muttered Gedge. “Well, of all the hard luck! But I owe some on ’em something for that shy at my coco-nut; and oh! I s’y, Sergeant, it’s just as if some one was at work at it with a pick.”
Chapter Four
Wounded Men
The Sergeant was right, for, after turning a rib-like mass of stone forming an angle in the path, it was to find that either a fresh party of the enemy were waiting for them, or the others had by taking a short cut reached an eminence commanding the path; and as soon as the company came in sight they were saluted with an avalanche of stones, on a spot where they were terribly exposed, there being no shelter that could be seized upon by a few picked marksmen to hold the stone-throwers in check while the rest got by.
Matters looked bad, for the whole; of the baggage with the guard had disappeared, and, to make matters worse, shot after shot came whistling by from behind, indicating that the hill-men had come down to the track, and were closely following them in the rear.
“We must make a rush for it, Bracy,” said Captain Roberts, as he gazed up at the heights from which the invisible enemy were bombarding the path. “We’ll hold them back for a few minutes, and then you take half the company and dash across to yonder rocks. As soon as you are in shelter open fire and cover, as I fancy you can get a sight of them from there. It’s waste of ammunition to fire from here, and – Who’s that down?”
For there was a sharp cry from one of the men, who staggered forward a few yards, fell, and sprang up again minus his helmet, which had been struck by a bullet from behind.
“All right; not much hurt, sir,” cried the sufferer, rejoining his companions,
