“We waited about half an hour, and then the lookout fellow reported that the raiders were approaching. From where I was I could get a good view of the road below us for about five hundred yards. Firoz was just beside me, and on either hand were the men, each with his bow ready, very quiet.
“We heard the noise of horses in front, and then the party came round the turn at a walk, some riding, some on foot. There were mounted men in mail shirts in front with a couple of scouts ahead, but not far enough. I suppose they thought they were safe now in the Green Sakae country. Anyway, they walked slap into it as we lay doggo.
“They were pretty close when I heard Stephnos’s horn sound, and there was sudden confusion among the packed men in the road. Then, as the fellows on either side leapt up and opened with their bows, Firoz and I let drive at the two scouts, who were a bare fifty yards from us.
“That part lasted a very few minutes. I suppose the first twenty men went down. They were all in a heap bristling with arrows, the horses kicking and plunging. A few tried to gallop up to the top of the rise, and Firoz and I had a pretty minute’s rapid into them. None of them got within fifty yards of us except two loose horses, and another dragging its rider, who got through us and disappeared. Then we heard the fun beginning on Stephnos’s side, and the N.C.O. shouted something. The next minute we were down the slope and going for them.
“These Blue Sakae are real peaches. I’ve never seen fellows go in so quick. The Shamans tried to collect, but what with wounded horses careering round and arrows still coming down from the men on the flanks, we were into them before they could form. Just as we got to the bottom I caught sight of Stephnos’s fellows coming down beyond them, and saw some women at the back.
“There were really only fifty-odd enemy—we counted fifty-two after, and I don’t think any got away, and we knocked over nearly thirty before we started down, while Stephnos’s fellows were shooting after that. When we got in there was a pretty little scurry.
“A big hook-nosed fellow came for me—I’d taken to my pistol now—and I pushed him over. Just to my right was the N.C.O. hard at it sword to sword with a man in a leather coat. Then the N.C.O. got home, and the chap sort of fell over him in a heap. While he was trying to clear his sword another raider rushed him with a knife.
“I couldn’t lend a hand at the moment, as I was busy with a black-bearded fellow, who materialized on my left with a sword, and I thought the N.C.O. was a goner.
“I blew my gentleman’s face in at about three feet, and his sword ripped my sleeve up and scratched my arm as he caught it and crumpled. Next time I go to one of these beanos I’m borrowing a mail shirt.”
He held up his arm, and I saw then that his coat-sleeve was ripped up and the shirt below all mottled with blood.