After a Rest.
The Colonel was right; there were plenty of men in the hills, and they all belonged to fighting tribes-men who, whether Moslem or of the various sects which inhabited the vast tracts of mountainous countries, looked upon it as a religious duty to cut off every one who believed differently, as an infidel or a dog. Many days, then, had not elapsed before there was another gathering of the fierce tribes, whose object was to secure the fort, with its wealth of arms and ammunition. But during the week of respite Colonel Graves and his officers were busy enough. The country round was foraged for stores; and, partly in fear, but as much for the sake of cheating good customers and making everything possible out of the people whom they might be helping to slaughter the very next day, a couple of the tribes brought in grain, fodder, and other necessaries largely.
So the loss incurred by the burning of the store was soon made up, and the fort was better provisioned than ever, even to being prepared to stand the stern winter when it should leave the hills and descend to the valleys and plains.
No despatches had reached the fort for some time past; but the last, in answer to the Colonel’s report of his having relieved the fort, where all was well, and that he had no doubt of being able to hold it as long as was necessary, bade him go on holding it at any cost, and wait for further orders. But if he found reinforcements necessary to give the tribes a severe lesson, he was to communicate with the station in the Ghil Valley, whence a Ghoorkha regiment would be immediately despatched to his help.
A little council of war was held, in which Colonel Wrayford managed to take part; and, after due consideration, it was decided that the help was not required, for the unanimous opinion was that the Ghittah force could hold its own, and that they did not need any regiment to come in and carry off part of the laurels they wished to keep for themselves.
Doctor Morton had probably been the busiest man at the station; for, after the repulse of the night attack, every hospital-bed had been occupied, and an additional ward provided; but he had hardly a loss, and he went about, as Gedge said, “looking as proud as a two-tailed peacock in a ’logical garden.”
Certainly he chuckled and rubbed his hands a great deal over his patients; and one evening at the mess dinner, when the topic had arisen of the number of men he had sent back to duty cured, and all were rejoicing in the fact, that Bracy—looking thin and careworn, but now wonderfully well—was back in his place, the Doctor, who was pleased and flattered, became exceedingly confidential, and talked more freely than was his wont.
“There, dear boys,” he said: “I won’t be a sham. I’ve worked hard among my cripples, of course, and I’m proud of what I’ve done. If you want an example of the powers of surgery, there you are—look at Bracy. He’s a better man than ever now. Look at his condition—hard as a nail. Got rid of all that superfluous fat.”
“Here, gently, Doctor,” cried Bracy, flushing. “What superfluous fat?”
“All that you got rid of, sir.”