not the regiments that preceded us from India; they had been sent to
another section of the battle. These were men who had been in the
fighting from the first, and their wounded and the stretcher-bearers
were surprised to see us. No word of our arrival seemed to reach the
firing line as yet. Men were too busy to pass news.

Over our heads from a mile away, the British and French artillery
were sending a storm, of shells, and the enemy guns were answering
two for one. And besides that, into the forest, and into the trench
to the right of it that was being held by the British infantry there
was falling such a cataract of fire that it was not possible to
believe a man could live. Yet the answering rifle-fire never paused
for a second.

I learned afterward the name of the regiment in the end of the
trench nearest us. With these two eyes in the Hills I once saw that
same regiment run like a thousand hares into the night, because it
had no supper and a dozen Afridi marksmen had the range. Can the
sahib explain? I think I can. A man's spirit is no more in his belly
than in the cart that carries his belongings; yet, while he thinks
it is, his enemies all flourish.

We dismounted to rest the horses, and waited behind the forest until
it grew so dark that between the bursting of the star-shells a man
could not see his hand held out in front of him. Now and then a
stray shell chanced among us, but our casualties were very few. I
wondered greatly at the waste of ammunition. My ears ached with the
din, but there seemed more noise wrought than destruction. We had
begun to grow restless when an officer came galloping at last to
Colonel Kirby's side and gave him directions with much pointing and