A Dog with a Bad Name

by Talbot Baines Reed

Instantly, and without even waiting for the word of command, every man was in his place ready to go on. The guns, with Captain Forrester’s troop as escort, dashed forward to hold the defile; while the main body, divided into two divisions—one to follow the guns, the other to reach the plain above by a nearer pass—started forward into action.

The cavalry, meanwhile, with Major Atherton at their head, were already engaged in a hot scrimmage.

Following their usual tactics, the Afghans, after exchanging shots at the entrance of the pass, had turned tail and dashed through the defile, with the English at their heels. Then, suddenly turning as they reached the plain beyond, they faced round on their pursuers, not yet clear of the rocky gorge. In the present instance, however, when within about a hundred yards of the head of the column, they wheeled round again, and once more bolted into the open.

A stern chase ensued over the rough broken ground, the enemy now and then making a show of halting, but as often giving way and tempting the cavalry farther out into the plain.

The Afghans numbered only about two hundred horsemen, but it was quite evident from their tactics that they had a much larger body in reserve, and Major Atherton was decidedly perplexed as to what he should do. For if he pursued them too far, he might be cut off from his own men; if, on the other hand, he made a dash and rode them down before they could get clear, he might cut them off from their main body, and so clip the enemy’s wings.

The enemy settled the question for him. Just as he was looking round for the first sign of Forrester and the guns in the pass, the plain suddenly swarmed with Afghans. From every quarter they bore down on him, horse and foot, and even guns, seeming almost to spring, like the teeth of Cadmus, from the earth.

It was no time for hesitation or doubt. Retreat was out of the question. Equally hopeless was it to warn the troops who were coming up. There was nothing for it but to stand at bay till the main body came up, and then, if they were left to do it, fight their way out and join forces.

The major therefore brought his men to a corner of the rocks, where on two sides, at any rate, attack would be difficult; and there, ordering them to dismount and form square, stood grimly.

A cruel half-hour followed. Man after man of that little band went down before the dropping fire of the enemy. Had the guns been able to command the position, they would have fallen by tens and scores. Major Atherton, in the middle of the square, had his horse shot under him before five minutes were past. Alas! there was no lack of empty saddles to supply the loss, for before a quarter of an hour had gone by, out of a dozen officers scarcely half remained.

Still they stood, waiting for the first boom of the guns at the head of the pass, and often tempted to break away from their posts and die fighting. For of all a soldier’s duties, that of standing still under fire is the hardest.