Roberts halted to let his men pass him, keenly watching every one in his company, and a man limping caught his eye.
“Here, Bracy, what’s the matter?” he said.
“Oh, nothing much, sir. Spent shot glanced off the rock and hit me in the ankle.”
“Give him your arm, Sergeant, and get him on one of the mules.”
“Beg pardon, sir; I can walk back.”
“You’re making your leg worse at every step, sir,” cried Roberts angrily. “Get on and ride.”
The words were spoken sharply, the young Captain being in no very amiable mood, for he was cooling down after tremendous exertion and the reaction from the wild excitement of the fight. But he spoke in the man’s interest and with the desire to save him from after-suffering.
Then the weary tramp went on almost in silence, but no one flagged, and at the end of a couple of hours they obtained a glimpse of the flag at the top of the staff. The silence in the column was broken by a hearty cheer, the men’s spirits rising again after what had been a depressing march back; and when the gates were reached they were cheered by the men on the walls, and the hills around softly echoed back the replies to the hearty welcome they had received.
The Colonel, with the officers left behind, stood at the gate waiting, and the answer to his inquiry regarding the enemy brought forth a fresh cheer.
“Splendidly done!” said the Colonel; and then sharply, “What casualties?”