“Welcome, welcome back!” cried Colonel Graves a few minutes later, as he forced himself through the crowd to where Doctor Morton was excitedly superintending the carrying in of his two old patients to the officers’ ward.
“Thanks, thanks, Colonel,” said Bracy in a feeble voice. “I did my best, sir, but I only failed.”
“Failed!” cried the Colonel proudly. “Why, the fort is saved.”
Chapter Thirty Seven.
“For Valour.”
There is little more to tell, for, after this last repulse and the strengthening of the but by doubling its garrison, the enemy’s ranks melted away once more, the white-coats, terribly lessened, vanishing like snow from the hills.
Two days later long processions of unarmed villagers were bringing in stores for sale; and before twenty-four more hours had elapsed a deputation of chiefs from different tribes were suing for peace, the Empress Queen’s authority being acknowledged, and the fort and its approaches became safe, so that it seemed hard to realise the truth of the great change. But change there was, the various hill-tribes round apparently accepting the position of being under the stronger power, and devoting themselves to the arts of peace.
It was while getting slowly over his injuries that Bracy’s quarters became the favourite resort of many of the officers, even Colonel Wrayford, once more himself, often coming in company with Major Graham and the Doctor. But the chief visitors were Roberts and Drummond, the three young officers exchanging notes as to what had taken place during their separation.