“Got a stone in my foot, p’raps, gen’lemen,” he said.
“Carry him!” said Roberts briefly; and the men were lowering their arms to take the poor fellow between them, but he protested loudly.
“No, no; I can walk, sir,” he cried. “One o’ them just give me an arm for a bit. Leg’s a bit numbed, that’s all. Look out, mates. Bees is swarming fast.”
For the enemy had stationary marks for their bullets now, and they were falling very closely around.
“In amongst the trees there,” cried Roberts; and the shelter ahead was gained, Gedge walking by the help of one of his comrades, and then crouching with the rest.
But the shelter was too slight, and it became evident that they were seen from the shelves and niches occupied by the enemy, for the bullets began to come thickly, sending leaves and twigs pattering down upon the halting party’s heads.
“We must get on,” said Roberts after an anxious look out ahead.
“All right,” said Bracy. “We may leave the scoundrels behind.”
“Behind, sir? Yus, sir,” cried Gedge, who had caught the last word. “You go on, sir, and I’ll lie down here till you sends some of the lads to fetch me in.”
“What’s left of him,” thought Bracy, “after the brutes have been at him with their knives.”