This long
line of troops, who were visible to each other but divided by the deep
broad nullahs which intersected the whole plain, fell back slowly,
halting frequently to keep touch. Seven hundred yards away were the
enemy, coming on in a great half-moon nearly three miles long and firing
continually. Their fire was effective, and among other casualties at
this time Lieutenant Crawford, R.A., was killed. Their figures showed in
rows of little white dots. The darkness fell swiftly. The smoke puffs
became fire flashes. Great black clouds overspread the valley and
thunder began to roll. The daylight died away. The picture became
obscured, and presently it was pitch dark. All communication, all mutual
support, all general control now ceased. Each body of troops closed up
and made the best of their way to the camp, which was about seven miles
off. A severe thunderstorm broke overhead. The vivid lightning displayed
the marching columns and enabled the enemy to aim. Individual tribesmen
ran up, shouting insults, to within fifty yards of the Buffs and
discharged their rifles.
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