‘Gallop!’ shouted Cornet Leland, waving his sword; and Jack, who was just behind him, wheeled his horse to the right so as to come abreast of his officer.
Williams, who was riding behind Sergeant Barrymore, did the same, and so the front rank of four, two armed with swords, for Jack had drawn his, and two with lances, thundered down upon the Cossacks. Having fired their volley, these remained halted in a sort of confusion as though not knowing what to do. Many of them did not even take their lances from the rests, but sat staring at the advancing English. They had little time to consider the situation further; the Lancers came crashing in amongst them, unhorsing several and scattering the others. For a few moments there was a mêlée of stabbing lances, whirling swords and plunging horses.
Cornet Leland had ridden straight at a red-faced, snub-nosed officer, the red cord on whose coarse green uniform was edged with gold lace; but the fellow reined aside from the officer and faced the trumpeter. He made a point at Jack with his crooked sabre, but Jack parried the blade with ease. In return he delivered cut two with all his might; but to his astonishment his blade, falling on the shoulder of the Russian, was turned aside by the coarse red cloth. The snub-nosed Cossack, with a sort of hissing grunt, then drew a pistol from his holster, and, levelling it at Jack’s head, fired, missing him only by a hand’s-breadth. Next moment a Lancer behind Jack drove his lance through the Russian’s arm, and the fight was ended.
The two lines of Lancers galloped on along the sides of the wagons, slashing and thrusting at the Cossacks. These seemed paralysed by the very audacity of the attack, and galloped off, pursued by the victorious Lancers till Cornet Leland ordered Jack to sound the recall. Then the men, puffed with their exertions, came trotting back.
The wretched araba[1] drivers were on their knees begging for mercy, expecting every moment to be pierced by the long lances. When they found that they were kindly treated they grovelled on the ground, which spoke volumes for the fashion in which the Russians had treated them.
The total capture was forty-two wagons loaded with provisions; some drawn by two horses, some by three or four. Sir George was delighted with the capture, and the handful of Lancers returned in great spirits, being greeted with cheers from the troops who had already assembled on the beach.
No other cavalry had been landed; and, as Jack’s troop off-saddled, Barrymore said, ‘What did you think of your first skirmish, Jack?’
‘I thought it was fine fun,’ replied Jack, ‘and I hope I shall see more such.’
‘I don’t think it would have been quite such fun for you, Jack,’ said Pearson, who had overheard the remark, ‘if I hadn’t been just behind you and skewered that snub-nosed Cossack officer with my lance. I fancy if he had got another cut in at you you would have lost the number of your mess to-night.’
‘Then my grateful thanks are due to you,’ said Jack; and they fell to eating their evening meal.