“Why, man, don’t ye see, av he was in ould Ireland he couldn’t be disturbin’ our night’s rest here. Moreover, they’d make a dacent man of ’im there in no time. It’s always the way; if an English blackguard goes over to Ireland he’s almost sure to return home more or less of a gintleman. That’s why I’ve always advised you to go over, boy. An’ maybe if Osman wint he’d— Hallo!”
A flash of light and whistling of bullets overhead effectually stopped the Irishman’s discourse. Not that he was at all alarmed by the familiar incident, but being a change of subject it became more absorbingly interesting than the conversation, besides necessitating some active precautions.
The firing seemed to indicate an attack in several places along the line of defence. At one of the posts called the New House the attack was very sharp. The enemy could not have been much, if at all, over three hundred yards distant in the shelter of three large pits. Of course the fire was vigorously returned. A colonel and major were there on the redoubt, with powerful field-glasses, and directed the men where to fire until the General himself appeared on the scene and took command. On the left, from Quarantine Island, the Royal Engineers kept up a heavy cross-fire, and on the right they were helped by a fort which was manned by Egyptian troops. From these three points a heavy fire was kept up, and continued till six o’clock in the morning.
By that time, the enemy having been finally driven out of the pits, a party was sent across to see what execution had been done. It was wonderfully little, considering the amount of ammunition and energy expended. In the first pit one man was found dead; a bullet had entered his forehead and come out at the back of his head. Moving him a little on one side they found another man under him, shot in the same way. All round the pit inside were large pools of blood, but no bodies, for the natives invariably dragged or carried away their dead when that was possible. In the other two pits large pools of blood were also found, but no bodies. Beyond them, however, one man was discovered shot through the heart. He had evidently been dragged along the sand, but the tremendous fire of the defenders had compelled the enemy to drop him. Still further on they found twelve more corpses which had been dragged a short way and then left.
Close to these they observed that the sand had been disturbed, and on turning it up found that a dozen of bodies had been hastily buried there. Altogether they calculated that at least fifty of the enemy had been killed on that occasion—a calculation which was curiously verified by the friendly tribes asking permission to bury the dead according to the Soudanese custom. This was granted, of course, and thus the exact number killed was ascertained, but how many had been wounded no one could tell.
“Fifty desolated homes!” remarked one of the men, when the number of killed was announced at mess that day. He was a cynical, sour-visaged man, who had just come out of hospital after a pretty severe illness. “Fifty widows, may-hap,” he continued, “to say nothin’ o’ child’n—that are just as fond o’ husbands an’ fathers as ours are!”
“Why, Jack Hall, if these are your sentiments you should never have enlisted,” cried Simkin, with a laugh.
“I ’listed when I was drunk,” returned Hall savagely.
“Och, then, it sarves ye right!” said Flynn. “Even a pig would be ashamed to do anythin’ whin it was in liquor.”
The corporal’s remark prevented the conversation taking a lugubrious turn, to the satisfaction of a few of the men who could not endure to look at anything from a serious point of view.