“Don’t know,” said Bracy. “It’s very exciting.”
“Oh, yes, it’s exciting enough. We’ve had it pretty warm here, I can tell you. I begin to like it now.”
“You do?”
“Yes; when I get warm. Not at first, because one’s always thinking about whether the next bullet will hit you—’specially when the poor fellows get dropping about you; but you soon get warm. It makes you savage to see men you know going down without being able to get a shot in return. Then you’re all right. You like it then.”
“Humph!” ejaculated Bracy, and his brow wrinkled. “But had we not better go down and give the alarm?”
“Plenty of time. No need to hurry. They’re not going to attack; only lying up waiting to see if those beggars who came this morning can do anything by scheming. I fancy they’re getting a bit short of lead, for we’ve had all kinds of rubbish shot into the fort here—bits of iron, nails, stones, and broken bits of pot. We’ve seen them, too, hunting about among the rocks for our spent bullets. You’ll find them very nice sort of fellows, ready to shoot at you with something from a distance to give you a wound that won’t heal, and cut at you when they can come to close quarters with tulwars and knives that are sharp as razors. They will heal, for, as our doctor says, they are beautiful clean cuts that close well. Never saw the beauty of them, though. He’s almost as bad as your old chap for that.”
“But we had better go down and give the alarm,” said Bracy anxiously.
“None to give,” said Drummond coolly. “It’s only a bit of news, and that’s how it will be taken. Nothing to be done, but perhaps double the sentries in the weak places. Not that they’re very weak, or we shouldn’t have been hen; when you came.”
“Well, I shall feel more comfortable when my Colonel knows—eh, Roberts?”
“Yes,” said the latter, who had stood frowning and listening; “and I don’t think he will be for sitting down so quietly as your old man.”