‘Anything, to keep myself from thinking.’
‘Come on then.’
The two donned their forage-caps, and each taking a pistol and their water-bottles, in which they had some spirits-and-water, they started.
They made their way to the north valley, easily passing the picket. They reached the spot from whence the Light Brigade had started, and kept along till presently they came to the place where Nolan had been killed. His dead body still lay where it had fallen.
Some distance farther along they came to several dead horses; then men, all in the blue and white of their own regiment or the 13th Light Dragoons, either stretched out as though asleep, or lying in curiously huddled-up positions. Some of their comrades they recognised; in others, the nature of their wounds was such as to render this impossible. All were dead, however.
As they proceeded farther the pale moonbeams showed some Hussars. Among them they came to a poor fellow of the 11th with one leg crushed, who from time to time moaned in agony. This man they were able to make more comfortable, and gave him a drink, for which he blessed them.
They were moving farther along when they saw at a little distance from them another figure, crouching low as though to avoid detection. In an instant Will cocked his pistol.
‘Some murdering wretch robbing the wounded,’ he muttered. ‘I’ll put an end to his game.’
He was about to pull the trigger when Jack seized his arm. ‘Don’t fire,’ he said, ‘the Russians are in possession of the field and must be close to us. We shall bring them down on us. We are two to one; pick up one of these swords lying about and let us tackle him.’
They did so, and advanced towards the man, who as quickly retreated. As he did so Jack saw that the man was a soldier, and he seemed to be wearing a scarlet tunic.