“And this morning, then, you began to retreat!”
“Yes,” the major said, “there was nothing else for it.”
“But why not have retreated by the way we came?” said the doctor.
“Because, my dear fellow, the whole country’s up, and this was the only way open. If we had gone by the track our fellows would have been speared one by one, for the jungle is too dense to skirmish through. But here’s Linton; he will tell you better than I can.”
As the retreat continued, the rear-guard being always closely engaged with the Malays, who pressed upon them incessantly, Mr Linton came up, begrimed with powder, and shook hands.
“This is a horrible affair, doctor!” he said sadly.
“Don’t say horrible,” said the other, cheerfully. “We shall fight our way through to the river.”
“I hope so,” said Mr Linton. “But we have scarcely any provisions. Not more, certainly, than a day or two’s rations. That is bad enough; but you do not understand my anxiety. We have let ourselves be drawn into a trap, and the whole country rises against us.”
“Let it rise,” said the doctor, sturdily; “we’ll knock it down again.”
“But the residency, man—the steamer!”