Handing the cart over to the quarter-master, Tony followed Phil to the cook’s fire, and both were soon devouring a meal of bully beef and bread, for they were almost famished, having been too much engaged and too highly excited to eat while threatened by the Cossacks.
They found the Allies encamped a few miles from the River Alma, and almost in sight of the Russian position.
“It’ll be hot work to-morrow,” said one of the sergeants that evening, as they sat wrapped in their blankets round the fire. “The enemy has chosen a splendid position along the heights the other side of the river, and I expect our job will be to turn him out. It will be a big fight, or I’m mistaken, and as we shall all have plenty to do I’m for turning-in at once and getting as long a sleep as I can. Good-night, you chaps! Corporal Western, you’ll have them three stripes this time to-morrow if you do only half as well as you and your two mates did to-day.”
The stalwart sergeant laid his blanket on the ground, rolled himself in it, and, placing his head on his haversack, was very soon in a deep sleep, untroubled by the fact that to-morrow might be his last day on earth.
As for Phil and Tony, they sat up an hour or more longer, chatting over past events and the probabilities of the next day’s fight, never dreaming that it was destined to be on historical one, and one in which the mettle of British troops was to be tested and found of the staunchest, by as fierce a storm of shot and shell as ever assailed an army.
Chapter Ten.
The Glorious Alma.
The misty grey of early dawn lay over the smooth grassy slopes of the Crimea when Phil and Tony turned over on the following morning and looked about them. Here and there men were moving about like big ghostly shadows as they trudged down to the banks of the River Bulganak to fill their water-bottles and mess-tins in preparation for the morning meal. Some were crouching over smoking fires, encouraging them to burn up brightly and give out sufficient heat to cook the food. Close at hand others were grooming officers’ chargers, and on every side there was the clatter of an awaking camp, the stamp of restive hoofs, cheery calls from man to man, and the startling notes of reveillé ringing out clearly in the morning air, and warning all that another day had arrived, and that it was time to throw off sleep and be ready to try conclusions with the enemy.