Escorted by the Rifles came the guns—the big guns, the siege guns, the real guns at last! With slow and stately tread, as though conscious of their importance and of the impression they were making, the massive elephants—two harnessed to each gun—appeared in sight, hauling the ponderous cannon to the place that needed them so much. With what delight the long-looked-for guns were greeted may well be imagined. The fortunate soldiers of 1857 had never heard the classic phrases “Now we sha’n’t be long!” and “Let ’em all come!”, but if they had, they would certainly have used them.
In the thick of the crowd was Ted, who had got leave of absence from the Ridge, and as Alec could not accompany him, he looked out for any other chums who might be there, and soon caught sight of the khaki and blazing scarlet of Claude Boldre, gay with the colours of the “Flamingoes”. They greeted Lieutenant Roberts, who was busy with his multifarious duties as D. A. Q. M. G., but cheerful and brisk as ever, and stood behind a group of hilarious Tommies.
“Here come the guns at last!” cried a carabineer in an ecstacy of enthusiasm.
“Git away wid ye, it’s Wombwell’s menagerie comin’ to give us an entertainment!” declared an Irish private.
“Nice little ponies them are, drorin’ them!” was another comment.
“What—the uttees? Three cheers for the bloomin’ uttees!”[1]
[1] “Uttee” is Mr. Thomas Atkins’ rendering of “hathi”, the Hindustani for elephant, as readers of The Jungle Book will know.
“What’ll we do wiv the huttees when we’ve got the guns fixed hup? They’ll heat their ’eads hoff ’ere. There won’t be none of hus left for fightin’; we shall hall ’ave to go hout foragin’ for food for the helephints hall day,” observed a soldier of Cockney extraction.
“Ay,” a friend replied, “and they’ll want exercising. Bill, you’ll ’ave to go and take ’arf a dozen helephints for a run every mornin’ before breakfast, same as you used to do them fox-terriers you used to have.”
Bill was wont to boast of the ratting qualities of his dogs at home.