That sangar was a death-trap to its garrison--their only line of escape
was across some open, shaley slopes within four hundred yards of our
firing line, and the Levies were now working along the hill, and would
catch them in the sangar if they didn't clear out. The result was like
rabbit shooting You'd see a man jump from the sangar and bolt across the
shale slope, slipping and scrambling as he went; then there would be a
volley, and you'd see the dust fly all round him--perhaps he'd drop,
perhaps he wouldn't; then there would be another volley, and you'd see
him chuck forward amid a laugh from the sepoys, and he'd roll over and
over till he'd fetch up against a rock and lie still. Sometimes two or
three would bolt at once; one or two would drop at each volley, and go
rolling, limp and shapeless down the slope, until they were all down,
and there would be a wait for the next lot. An old sepoy lying near me
declared as each man dropped that it was his particular rifle whose aim
had been so accurate, until Borradaile called him sharply to order, and
told him to attend to business. Presently a crowd of men appeared higher
up on the same spur, and someone called out that they were Levies. Just
then one of them dropped on his knee and fired in our direction, there
was a volley back, and the men disappeared again.

Oldham had now managed, with ropes and the scaling ladders, to get down
on to the ledge below, so calling to Moberly to bring along his company,
I dived down, followed by Gammer Sing and then Moberly, and one or two
men of the Sappers followed him, and we, thinking the whole company was
coming, went scrambling down to the bottom. We slid down the ropes on to
the ladders, and from them on to the ledge, followed it a bit along the
cliff, and then down a shale and débris slope to the stream, across that
and up the other side. Scrambling on all fours up the opposite side, I
heard Oldham, who was ahead of me, shout back that the company wasn't
following. I yelled, "Run up a sangar, and we can hold on till they