CHAPTER VIII.
“PREPARE FOR CAVALRY!”
The Rattler’s officers had reason to be proud of their little brigade of seamen and marines. In this sudden emergency they were calm, cool, and self-reliant. Their discipline and the celerity of their movements were beyond praise. It was a severe test, and they came out of it with flying colours.
As the enemy’s irregular cavalry came thundering down towards us over the broken ground, we formed square, and, with loaded rifles and fixed bayonets, stood ready to receive them. There was no time to get the baggage-animals and native drivers into the centre of the square, and so they were forced to remain huddled together in the rear—a squad of marines being told off to guard them to the best of their ability.
The horsemen seemed nothing daunted by our steadiness and military formation, but swept on at a gallop. Two of their steeds, however, stumbled badly on the rough ground and threw their riders, after which they rushed away in the direction from which they had come like mad creatures.
I was all excitement at the idea of this unexpected brush with the enemy, and drew my loaded revolver from my belt. Ned Burton was standing up just in front of me in the square, looking the essence of determination and tenacious valour. The outer ranks were kneeling. The rays of the tropical sun flashed on the serried lines of bayonets and glinted on the less polished rifle barrels.
On came the cavalry with desperate bravery. Even on that rocky ground they raised a cloud of dust. The horsemen had slung their carbines and drawn their sabres, the blades of which flashed ominously over their heads like the gleams of sheet lightning.
“Give the swabs a volley,” muttered Ned Burton, “and we’ll empty some of their saddles for ’em.”
At that very moment the order to fire was given.
Little tongues of flame and puffs of grey smoke darted from the muzzles of the rifles defending one side of the square, and the crash of a volley of musketry rang out into the air with almost deafening effect. Amid it all I seemed to hear distinctly the thunder of the chargers’ hoofs.
“Give them another volley!” shouted the gunnery lieutenant; and darting about, hither and thither, amid the blinding, choking smoke, we juniors repeated his order.