The others
caught hold of the injured and began dragging them roughly over the
sharp rocks in spite of their screams and groans. Before we had gone
thirty yards from the knoll, the enemy rushed on to it, and began
firing. Lieutenant Hughes, the adjutant of the regiment, and one of the
most popular officers on the frontier, was killed. The bullets passed in
the air with a curious sucking noise, like that produced by drawing the
air between the lips. Several men also fell. Lieut.-Colonel Bradshaw
ordered two Sepoys to carry the officer's body away. This they began to
do. Suddenly a scattered crowd of tribesmen rushed over the crest of the
hill and charged sword in hand, hurling great stones. It became
impossible to remain an impassive spectator. Several of the wounded were
dropped. The subadar major stuck to Lieutenant Cassells, and it is to
him the lieutenant owes his life. The men carrying the other officer,
dropped him and fled. The body sprawled upon the ground. A tall man in
dirty white linen pounced down upon it with a curved sword.
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