“Oh, fairly, sir, and—phew! that was close!”
For a bullet whizzed by the speaker’s ear.
“Keep under cover. Steady!” said the Captain; and then the cautious descent of the steep slope—more of a passage by hands as well as feet than a steady walk down—was kept up, and diversified in the most unpleasant way by shots, till the rocky shallow where the stream dashed into the main river was reached.
Here the deep gully, down which the stream ran, had grown shallower till it debouched, with the valley on either side reduced to a dead level and the banks only a foot or so above the surface of the rushing water, which only reached to the officers’ knees when they stepped in. But, unfortunately, the last of the cover had been passed, and a couple of shots reminded the party of the danger they ran.
“Here y’are, sir,” cried Gedge, reaching out his hand to Bracy and helping him out. “Oh! why ain’t I got my rifle?”
“Don’t talk,” cried Bracy as his companions leaped, dripping, out of the stream.
“No; open out and follow, my lads,” cried Roberts. “Forward! double!”
“Ugh!” grunted Gedge to his nearest comrade; “and they’ll think we’re running away.”
“So we are, mate.”
“Yah! only our legs. I ain’t running. Think I’d cut away from one o’ them black-looking, bed-gown biddies? Yah! go back and send yer clothes to the wash.”