The movements of the Englishmen had been observed from the city, and a large number of Sepoys were instantly sent out to attack them. They came on at the “double quick.”
The Englishmen fixed their bayonets, and dropping on their knees behind the bushes, which afforded them excellent shelter, waited patiently.
When the enemy was within fifty yards, the British officer stood up, and, waving his sword, cried—
“Remember your oath, men—fire!”
For every bullet that went forth from the muzzles of those rifles a native tottered to the ground. The survivors staggered for a moment, but quickly recovering themselves, came on again. But the deadly Enfields were quickly loaded, as if they were all worked by one piece of intricate mechanism, and another volley strewed the ground with dead and dying Sepoys.
“Load quickly, men. Another volley, and then charge,” cried the officer.
The Sepoys, exasperated by the terrible effects of the fire from their hidden foe, were coming on with a rush, but again they reeled and staggered, as the rifles belched forth fire and lead from the bushes.
“Up and charge, men, and remember your oath,” cried the officer once more.
Each man sprang to his feet, and then, with a ringing cheer, the little body charged the enemy.