From their loopholes and from the top of the wall the sepoys poured an irregular fire upon the besiegers below. But Kerr and Gumpunt Rao, working away desperately with their bars, very soon made a hole in the door near the ground. A few more blows enlarged it sufficiently to allow one man to crawl through on his hands and knees.

That was enough for Kerr.

“In we go, men,” he cried; “after me! Have your swords ready!” And the little fierce-eyed men grinned with delight as they saw their leader wriggle like a snake through the hole with the faithful Gumpunt at his heels. What a fight there was going to be!

They guessed truly. The instant Kerr showed himself inside the courtyard he was greeted with a volley of musketry, but the sepoys aimed too high, and every bullet crashed harmlessly into the woodwork over his head. Springing to his feet, the lieutenant made a rush at his assailants that sent them flying before him. And then, the scarlet turbans having followed safely through the aperture one after another, the mutineers were slowly driven back, leaving several heaps of dead and wounded in their wake.

The fighting blood of the wild Mahrattas was up now. A battalion of rebels could not have stayed them. Before their fierce onslaught the mutineers fled to the refuge of a house that covered the second entrance to the fort, but the building was set on fire, and off they scampered again for dear life, though a few perished in the flames.

Their next retreat was behind a gateway which led to the inner portion of the fort. Here the shaken remnant was joined by the men of the garrison, who had been spectators of the affray. This reinforcement gave them renewed confidence, and they opened a fresh fire upon Kerr and his little band. The Mahrattas needed no call from their valiant leader. Two or three of them bit the dust under the hail of bullets, but the rest leapt to the gate where Lieutenant Kerr was already at work with his crowbar. Again a hole was made, and again the plucky officer—always first—crept through with his followers.

In the terrible hand-to-hand fight that ensued within Kerr had the chain of his helmet cut by a bullet, while another ball struck his sword. A sepoy, too, thrust his musket almost into the lieutenant’s face, the discharge blinding him for an instant, but Kerr ran his sword through the man’s body ere he could reload.

The thrust was a mighty one, and the effort to withdraw his weapon was so great that it gave time for a watching rebel to deal him a stunning blow on the head with the butt end of a musket. Down went Kerr like a felled log, and but for Gumpunt Rao he would have been shot where he lay. Just in the nick of time the Mahratta sprang between them and sent the sepoy to his last account.

Kerr’s storming party was sadly reduced in numbers by this time, and of those who had survived not one had escaped being wounded. But as soon as their leader had come to his senses, they went forward once more, cutting down the mutineers with their keen-edged curved swords, and striking terror into the hearts of those who yet again fled before them.

In their extremity the rebels made for an empty disused temple, hastily barricading its door with stones and anything that would help to keep those dreaded greencoats at a safe distance. They still had a good supply of cartridges left, and with these did such execution that several more of the Mahratta warriors were laid low.