Going some distance farther towards the hills he kicked a large boulder and moved it, when he saw a piece of discoloured metal which had been half-buried by it. Stooping, he picked it up and found it was a bugle, which had been crushed and battered as though smashed with a hammer. Curiosity prompted him to rub away the earth and rust from the bell of the instrument in order to see to which regiment it had belonged, when to his surprise he saw dimly No. 1243, 17th Lancers. That was his regimental number, and the bugle was his. In a flash he recollected how it was dashed from his grasp by a round-shot the last time he had ever sounded, for on that day he ceased to be a trumpeter.
He remounted and made his way to camp, taking his relic with him. When he showed it to Barrymore, just outside the regimental’s tent, the latter said, ‘It’s very strange your finding it; however, you must keep it. And that reminds me, I have a relic which, when I thought you were dead, I found in your tent and meant to keep.’
He went into his tent and brought out an old battered lance-cap, with the corners all broken down, the plate bent, a bullet-hole through the square top, and a sword-cut on the side which had cut completely down to the round leather skull-piece, the cut having been stitched up with a bit of string.
‘Do you know this?’ asked Barrymore.
‘My old cap!’ said Jack in surprise.
‘It is so, and since you’re here amongst us in the flesh I’ll make you a present of it. Put it with your bugle. When you’re a colonel you’ll show them with pride to your friends.’
‘I don’t suppose that day will ever come,’ laughed Jack; ‘but anyway I’ll accept it, and will give it to my mother as a relic of the Balaclava charge.’
So far as the cavalry was concerned the war was over. The troops would have to be kept in the Crimea till peace was finally declared, but there seemed to be no further use for cavalry; and in November the ‘Death or Glory Boys’ embarked for Ismail, where they went into comfortable quarters.
For several months they had a very easy time. The anniversaries of the three big battles were kept up in the army with great celebrations, and at Christmas they had a gay time.
Jack had many letters from his friends, and amused himself by writing an account of all that had happened to him since he had come out. One other honour came to him. The men of the different regiments had to choose so many of their comrades who were to be given the French war medal, and Jack was one of those chosen by his comrades.