A score of Russian saddles were emptied; then Captain Norreys, well to the front, drew his sword. ‘Forward men!’ he cried; ‘take your pace from me, and charge home!’
At a gallop they rushed forward. Jack drew his sword and was in amongst the foe only a horse’s length behind his captain. Lance and sabre went to work, and in thirty seconds the Russians were flying.
Instantly Captain Norreys held up his sword and Jack sounded the halt.
‘Let us go on, sir; we can cut ’em to pieces,’ growled Sergeant Barrymore.
‘No, no, sergeant; it may be a trap,’ said Captain Norreys. ‘Pick up those three wounded men of ours and get them to the wagons.’
This was done, and then the English formed up again in rear of the convoy, which had not stopped.
The Russians reformed and hung upon the rear of the column; but they seemed to have no stomach for further fighting.
Followed by the enemy, the column held on its way till a cheer burst out in front.
‘Hurrah!’ shouted Pearson. ‘It’s all over; here are the Cherrypickers!’[2]
The remaining troops of the 11th Hussars, which had been sent out from the English camp as reinforcements, came sweeping by, their sword-blades flashing in the sunlight. With a cheer they advanced towards the still visible Russians, who turned and literally galloped away.