‘So it is,’ laughed Brandon; ‘and look at that white-bearded old sinner, he’s actually carrying a bed on his back.’
This was the case, and the Turks began to pour from the forts towards the English cavalry, many crying loudly, ‘Ship, ship!’
‘I’ll give yez ship, ye dhirty blackguards,’ cried an Irish trooper of the 8th Hussars, belabouring with the flat of his sword a man who ran past him crying loudly, his frying-pan and pot banging and jangling behind him.
Most of the Englishmen, however, only laughed at the flying Turks.
One of the last to leave the redoubts was an English artilleryman who had been detailed to show the Turks how to use the guns. He had a narrow escape of his life from the enemy’s cavalry, and as he ran towards a few men of Jack’s troop who had been sent out to cover his retreat he panted, ‘The Bono Johnnies left me in the lurch. Anyhow, the guns of No. 4 Fort won’t be turned against you, for I spiked ’em before I left.’
Had the Turks spiked the other guns before they bolted it would have saved much unnecessary loss of life and have robbed the Russians of much of their vaunted victory when, next day, they paraded the captured guns in Sebastopol.
The flight of the Turks was ultimately arrested, and they were persuaded to form up in a wobbly line on the left of the 93rd Highlanders, who under old Sir Colin lined the heights outside Balaclava.
Round shot from the forts now began to fall in amongst the Light Brigade, and several horses were hit.
‘This is the part of fighting I don’t like,’ said Jack; ‘this sitting still and being fired at. Why on earth don’t they let us do something?’
‘Ha, hum! don’t be impatient,’ growled Sergeant Linham, who it was noted looked remarkably smart that morning; ‘you’ll have work to do presently.’