“Forward!” shouted Dick. “Give a cheer, and drive them back.”
Grandly did the men support him. Though they had been fighting their hardest before, striving to arrest the rush of the enemy, now they charged into their broken ranks, belabouring them with their cutlasses, striking out with their fists, and making up for their smallness in numbers by sheer bravery and dash. And in a minute they had gained their object. Many of the enemy had already fallen, and now, of a sudden, the remainder turned tail and fled, leaving the British masters of the situation.
“Back for the rifles, some of you,” cried Dick. “The remainder run forward and occupy the enemy’s position. Quick, or they will bowl us over with their slugs.”
The warning came only just in time, for those of the enemy who had fled at the first sight of the sailors had taken cover on the fringe of the forest, in the position which they had occupied a few minutes before; and no sooner had their comrades turned and commenced to retreat than these men opened a scattered fire, regardless of the risk they ran of hitting their friends. But Dick and his men never paused. While four of them ran back to gather the rifles, the remainder followed close on the heels of the enemy, and hardly had the firing opened, and the war-drum commenced its boom again, when they were at the edge of the forest and close upon the Ashantis who lurked there. For some two minutes there was another hand-to-hand contest, for these men were caught in their lairs, and, hindered from gaining one of the numerous paths by the denseness of the forest, were forced to turn and fight. However, the sailors made short work of them, and very soon were lying amidst the trees again, breathing heavily after their exertions.
Meanwhile the troops in other quarters had been engaged with the enemy, and had driven them before them. No sooner had Essaman been given to the flames than the whole line advanced over more or less open country. On our left was a grassy plateau, with a thick forest about three hundred yards away, while directly in front the ground fell and was covered with bush growing breast high. Towards this the Houssas and West Indian regiment advanced, the men shouting and filling the air with discordant yells, while they blazed away at the bush, at the sky, anywhere in fact, and without any definite object. They were entirely out of hand, as some native troops are apt to get, and at this moment they were as dangerous to their own side as to the enemy. However, by dint of much energy and shouting the officers managed to get them in hand again and enforce some fire discipline. Then, as they advanced through the bush, the bluejackets and the Marine Artillery took the wood on the left in hand, and the steel gun opened upon the lurking enemy. The rockets were also brought to bear upon them, and very soon the place was clear, a few wounded Ashantis being discovered as we advanced. But still our men were far from Dick and his little force, and he had yet much difficulty to contend with.
“First, let us see to the wounded,” he said, as they lay breathing heavily in the forest. “Then we will follow hard upon the tracks of the enemy, in the hope of joining our comrades. Now, who is badly hit?”
There was no response from the tars, though he looked at each one in turn.
“Then who is hit at all?” he asked.
“One here, sir,” was the reply from one of the lusty fellows. “One of those rascals struck me in the leg with his knife. He’s back there, sir, for it hurt and I give ’im what for right away. It’s a bit of a scratch and the surgeon will fix it up when we get back. Plenty of time, sir.”
“And I’ve a slug somewheres about me shoulder,” sang out another; three more acknowledging the same sort of wound, and all making light of it.