As Roberts spoke he sprang to the front in one of the densest parts, where a wilderness of bush and rock lay between them and the river, and led on, with his companions following in single file; while, as perforce they moved slowly, they had the opportunity to regain their breath, and listened with a feeling of satisfaction to the firing which was kept up by the enemy upon the portion of the bosky bank where they were supposed to be still running.
“Wish they’d use all their powder,” said Drummond breathlessly.
“Why?” said Bracy.
“They’ve no bayonets.”
“Only tulwars and those horrible knives—eh?” said Bracy harshly.
“Ugh!” ejaculated Drummond. “You’re right; but if they came to close quarters we could take it out of some of the brutes before we were done for. It’s horrible to be doing nothing but run till you’re shot down.”
“Not shot down yet, old fellow. There, don’t talk; we may get across.”
“May!” muttered Drummond. “But, my word! how they are firing yonder! They’re beginning to think we’re hiding, and are trying to start us running again.”
“Will you leave off talking!” cried Bracy angrily. “Here, Gedge, how are you getting on?”
“Splendid, sir. I could do anything if the pavement warn’t so rough.”