“They’re keeping their tails up pluckily enough. Villains though they are, they’re not cowards,” murmurs one.
“That’s true! Seems to me that No. 2’s in a tight place enough. I only hope—”
What that officer hoped will never be known.
A deafening roar from another direction interrupts his expression of opinion and announces that Major Tombs’ Battery (No. 4) is dealing with the rebel guns.
“Hurrah! Tombs is givin’ it ’em ’ot! Tombs ’e’s a-silencin’ of ’em!” shout the riflemen.
“Ulu-ulu-ulu!” scream the delighted Gurkhas.
“Ah!” gasp the astounded Sikhs and Pathans, who have never before seen cannonade like this.
Whilst the British riflemen estimate and argue the distance of the battery from the walls and the probable duration of the bombardment, the Guides and Gurkhas chatter and scream with excitement. Many of these allies of ours have been somewhat prone to consider themselves quite as good soldiers as their employers, but now they are beginning to understand a little more clearly the extent of the British power and resources. And such consideration is good for them.
Again Tombs’s gunners fling their iron hail against the Delhi cannon, putting them out of action one by one.
“Why, Tombs has got within two hundred yards!” a spectator guesses.