The whole
scene, the close, desperate fighting, the carcasses of the mules, the
officers and men crouching behind them, the flaming stacks of bhoosa,
the flashes of the rifles, and over all and around all, the darkness of
the night--is worthy of the pencil of De Neuville.
At length, at about midnight, help arrived. Worlledge's two companies
had gone in search of the Guides, but had not found them. They now
returned and, hearing the firing at Bilot, sent an orderly of the 11th
Bengal Lancers to ask if the general wanted assistance. This plucky boy
--he was only a young recruit--rode coolly up to the village although the
enemy were all around, and he stood an almost equal chance of being shot
by our own men. He soon brought the two companies to the rescue, and the
enemy, balked of their prey, presently drew off in the gloom. How much
longer the battery and its defenders could have held out is uncertain.
They were losing men steadily, and their numbers were so small that they
might have been rushed at any moment.
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