CHAPTER NINE.
AN EXCITING ADVENTURE.
"Cossacks, by George! Wake up, you fellows!" shouted Phil, franticallykicking his comrades and caring little for the pain he caused, while atthe same moment he saw to the loading of his Minie rifle.
"What's up? Why are you kicking us like that?" grunted Tony, lazilysitting up on his elbow. Then, as he saw Phil's anxious face and hispreparations for defence, he sprang to his feet, and, grasping hisrifle, cried, "Cossacks, is it? All round us, too, Phil. I guess we'retrapped. But we'll make a fight of it."
"Fight! Of course we will. Do you think them fluffy-looking beggars isgoing to collar us without a little shooting?" growled Sam, grimlyramming down a charge, while he gazed over the top of theammunition-boxes at the advancing enemy.
"Are you all loaded?" asked Phil shortly. "Then creep under the cart,Sam, and fire between the spokes of the wheel. Whatever you do, though,wait till I give the word. Our rifles carry a good long way, and we'llbe able to get in a couple of volleys before they reach us."
In a twinkling Sam had dived beneath the cart, and a "Ready, boys!"shouted in a cheery voice, which scarcely showed a trace of theexcitement he felt, told Phil and Tony he was prepared for anyemergency.
Seeing three heads appear above the boxes, the Cossacks at once spreadout, and completely surrounded the cart. Then, without pausing in theirheadlong gallop, they came full tilt at it, lance heads well in advance,each with his face close to his pony's neck, and his spurs buried in itsflanks.
Phil and his friends singled out their men, and waited a few moments toget them well in range; then at the command "Fire!" from the former,three jets of smoke and flame spurted out from their rifles. Almostinstantly the man at whom Phil had aimed tossed his arms into the air,and, falling heavily from his saddle, with one foot jammed in thestirrup, was dragged across the grass right up to the wall ofammunition-boxes, where the frightened animal came to a sudden halt, andhaving sniffed at it suspiciously, and snorted as if in disdain, loweredits head and commenced to crop the grass as if nothing out of the usualhad occurred.
Sandy's bullet also found a mark, for another of the shaggy ponies fellas if struck by a pole-axe, and the rider shot out over its head andremained stunned and senseless upon the ground.
A grunt of disgust from Tony showed that his shot had missed.
"Well, I'm bothered! Missed!" he cried. "But here goes for another."
Reloading as rapidly as possible, they fired again, with the result thatone of the horsemen was hit in the chest, and, doubling up, with armshanging limply on either side of his pony's neck, was carried past thelittle fort like a whirlwind.
"Load up, boys!" cried Phil excitedly. "They'll be here in a minute; wemust stop them, or those lances will be into us."
But to fire at a rapidly-moving object, even when coming directly atone, is no easy matter, particularly when a long, cruel-looking shaft,armed with a glittering spear-point, is held directed at one's chest.It takes nerve and coolness to make a careful shot, and it takes realcourage to ride on towards that shot, knowing that it must reach itsmark sooner than the lance can find its home in the enemy's breast. Allhonour therefore to the two gallant Cossacks who still were left.Without a pull at their reins, and without so much as a shadow ofhesitation, they charged the harrier. All three rifles spoke out, andnext moment with a crash one of the lances met the piled-up boxes, and,unable to throw them on one side owing to their weight, or pierce thethick woodwork, shivered into a thousand splinters, while the braveRussian who held it glared savagely at Phil, and making an ineffectualeffort to draw a pistol, groaned and fell lifeless from his saddle withan ugly wound gaping in his neck.
The other Cossack was more successful. Dropping the point of his lance,he charged full at Sam, and escaping his bullet by a miracle, pinned himto the ground by a thrust through the shoulder.
"Bayonets! Come along, Tony!" shouted Phil, and without waiting to seeif he were followed, he dashed over the wall, and flung himself upon theRussian, with his drawn bayonet in his hand. It was a narrow shave forhim, for a pistol exploded almost in his face, and carried his bearskinaway. Next second he had thrust his weapon through his opponent's body,and dragged him from his pony.
"Give a hand here, corporal," sang out Sam at this moment. "This beastof a spear holds me so tight I can't move. I feel just like a butterflypinned to a board."
"Half a minute, Sam. Now, hold on," cried Tony, grasping the spear.Then, with, a sudden tug he wrenched it from the ground.
"My eye, don't it hurt!" groaned poor Sam, suddenly becoming pale. "Goeasy with it, mate. Let the corporal have a turn."
Phil crept under the wagon, and finding the spear protruding almost afoot on the other side of the shoulder, pulled out his clasp-knife, andopening a small saw, which was a special feature of it, proceeded to cutthe point off. That done, he grasped the shaft and gently pulled itfrom the wound.
"Come and help here, Tony," he cried. "But--wait a minute. Have a goodlook round first of all, and tell me if you can see any more of thosefellows."
Tony climbed on top of the cart, and gazed all round.
"Not a single one of 'em in sight," he cried; "but they'll be here soon,you may be sure."
"Then come and give a hand here with Sam," answered Phil, pulling outhis handkerchief. "I want a pad of linen or something."
"Here's the very thing, Phil;" and, pulling his bearskin off, Tonyproduced a large woollen muffler.
Ripping the seams of the coat with his knife, Phil quickly exposed thewound, and at once bound the muffler round it. Then with Tony's help hepropped Sam with his back against the wheel, and placed the arm in asling.
"Stay there, old boy," he said gently, "and as soon as the pain goesoff, crawl in behind the boxes. The Russians will not be able to reachyou there."
"Here yer are, mate," said Tony, handing Phil his bearskin. "It's aboutas near a go as you'll ever want. See, there's a hole bang through it,and the fur's all singed off the front."
Phil inspected it with an outward show of coolness, but as he jammed iton his head he muttered beneath his breath a fervent thanksgiving to theAlmighty for his preservation, for had he not ducked at the criticalmoment, that hole would not have been blown through the helmet, butthrough his head.
"Get up on top, and keep a look-out, Tony," he exclaimed. "We're in atight hole, and it will only be by keeping our eyes well open that weshall get safely out of it. First of all, though, break open one ofthose boxes, and load the rifles. We shall want plenty of ammunition,and had best have it ready and close at hand, in case of a suddenattack. I will have a look at these poor fellows."
Crawling from beneath the cart, he knelt beside the Cossack into whosebody he had thrust the bayonet. The poor fellow was evidently at hislast gasp, but hearing Phil's voice he opened his eyes, and gazedwonderingly at him. Then, as he recognised him, he feebly raised hishand.
A feeling of terrible grief and dismay surged through Phil's heart, forhe was a lad who would sooner have lost his own life than taken that ofanother in cold blood. And yet, though this had been done in war-time,and whilst battling for life and liberty, a pang of regret oppressedhim, and he felt only as a young man can feel who, for the first time inhis existence, has been the cause of suffering and death to another.
He took the hand of the dying man, and gently pressed it.
"Are you in great pain, my poor fellow?" he whispered.
The wounded Russian shook his head, and answered something. Phil placedhis ear close to his mouth and listened.
"We were enemies," the Cossack gasped, "bitter enemies, for you haveinvaded our country. But now we are friends, friends until death. Holdmy hand, brother, and the Virgin will bless you. Feel round my neckwhen I am gone, and you will find a cross. Take--take it for yourself,and when you glance at it think sometimes of him who died for hisbeloved Czar and country."
"I will, I will!" whispered Phil, with a groan of anguis
h.
"I see my old peasant home," went on the dying Cossack in a voice thatwas scarcely audible. "Ah, I see it better than ever--ever before. Mypoor mother!--thank God she has long gone to her rest!--and my brother.The stream in front, and the trees all round. Hold me, Englishman!Everything is dancing and blurred before my eyes. I--I am dying.Good-bye! Think some--sometimes of the man who died for his country."
The poor fellow, who had struggled into a sitting position, fell back,and Phil thought that he was dead. But he opened his eyes again,smiled, and with a sigh his spirit fled.
Deeply impressed, Phil knelt by his side and offered up a short prayer.Then he rose to his feet, and, climbing on to the cart, looked round.
Phit! A bullet struck the corner of one of the ammunition-boxes, and,glancing off, buried itself in the heel of his boot.
"That's a close one again, Phil, old boy," laughed Tony, who seemed toenjoy the risk of being shot. "It's that fellow over there. He's justbelow the hill, and you can only see him by standing up on top here."
This was the case. Another Cossack had ridden up, and, choosing aconvenient position within range, sat upon his pony, with only his headshowing above a ridge, and fired at Phil and his friends.
"This won't do," muttered Phil. "If he were in sight we could make itwarm for him, for our rifles carry farther. But as it is, he hits us atevery shot, while we might pour volleys in his direction, and only baghim by the merest chance. There, didn't I say so?" he exclaimed, as asecond bullet whirred past between himself and Tony. "Look here, Tony,"he continued, "climb down behind the boxes, and fire as often as you canat the beggar. That will distract his attention."
"Yes, and what game are you up to, mate?" asked Tony wonderingly.
"I'm going to creep round and drive him off," Phil answered withdecision.
"Take my tip then and ride round, Phil. Soon as he sees you move he'llchange his position, but if you're riding you'll be able to stop hisgame. But anyways I think the job belongs to me," he added, as if thethought that his friend would be running into greater danger hadsuddenly occurred to him. "You ain't the only chap as can ride, and asyou're boss here, should stay in command of our fort."
Phil looked at Tony sternly, and for the moment was on the point ofordering him to do as he was told. But, changing his mind, he picked upa rifle, and without a word dropped over the wall of boxes. The ponywas still standing, quietly cropping the grass, and did not move when hedisengaged the foot of the dead man from the stirrup. A second later hehad mounted, and, picking up the reins and holding his rifle across thepommel of the saddle, nodded to Tony and cantered off.
Striking away to the left he galloped to the top of the rise, only tofind the Cossack spurring away from him, evidently with the intention ofgaining another post from which to fire.
"By George, I'll bag that chap!" muttered Phil. "It would be great torejoin the regiment with a captive."
Kicking his pony with his heels he was soon flying across the turf, thenimble and sure-footed little animal leaping the few holes that came inhis path with an ease that showed how accustomed he was to it. Soon theflying Cossack had disappeared over another ridge, and Phil was notsurprised to hear the report of a rifle a moment later and an angry hissabove his head.
"He'll certainly knock me over with one of his shots if I ride on likethis," he thought. "I'll dismount and stalk him."
Acting on the thought he pulled up sharply and leapt from the saddle,the pony immediately dropping his head to graze. Then, flinging himselfon to hands and knees, he scrambled forward until he reached a patch oflong grass, where he lay full length, and, bringing his rifle to hisshoulder, pointed it in the direction of the Cossack and waitedbreathlessly.
An instant later the Russian appeared in sight, and Phil pressed thetrigger; then, jumping to his feet, he rushed forward to secure hisprisoner, for the Cossack had dropped like a stone. He topped theridge, and was on the point of running down, when a bullet struck thebutt of his rifle and shattered it, while the Russian, who had beenmerely acting, rose on one knee not fifty yards away, and commenced torapidly reload. What was Phil to do? He hesitated, but the sight ofsome eight or nine more Cossacks galloping up to help their comradedecided him.
"I'm off," he muttered hurriedly, and, dropping his useless rifle, hetook to his heels. It seemed as though he would never reach the pony,but at last he did and, flinging himself astride it, galloped madly backto the fort, glancing anxiously over his shoulder at the Cossacks. Theyhad closed together, and, topping the rise at this moment, camethundering down, shouting encouragement to one another.
Phil reached the cart, and was off the pony's back and in the fort in atrice.
"Shake hands, old man!" exclaimed Tony grimly. "This here will be ourlast. There's a hundred or more of these fellows charging."
"Nonsense! Pick up the rifles," gasped Phil. "Now get ready to givethem a volley. Sam, where are you?"
"Here, and ready to lend a hand, mate," the wounded man answered,crawling from beneath the cart at that moment. "I've got hold of thesebarkers," he said, with a grin, producing two pistols which he had takenfrom the Cossacks lying dead close at hand, "and I bet yer if thoseRussian coves gets close enough, I'll give 'em some of their own lead toswallow."
But though the three put the best face on the matter, there was no doubtthat they were in desperate straits. The first volley failed miserably,and already the fiery horsemen were within a hundred yards of the cart,when there was a shout from behind, and to the joy of Phil and hiscomrades a patrol of dragoons came cantering across the grass.
"Pals, hooray!" shouted Tony. "Phil, we'll join 'em. Get hold of yournag and I'll take this other here. Now, up we get; and when the boyscome along, we goes at them beggars with them."
Caught by the excitement of the moment Phil vaulted over the wall, andjust as the dragoons came spurring by with drawn swords poised ready forthe encounter, he and Tony dashed out and joined them.
"What ho, mates!" sang out the troopers. "Coming for a picnic with us,are yer? Good, boys!"
There was no time for more. Setting spurs to their horses, the troop,which was only ten strong counting Phil and Tony, went headlong at theCossacks. The latter pulled up immediately, hesitated for a moment, andwere on the point of flying, when the impossibility of getting away fromdragoons mounted on fresh English horses occurred to them. They threwdown their arms and sullenly waited to be made prisoners.
"Each of you catch hold of one of their reins and come along, quick,"sang out the non-commissioned officer who was in charge of the dragoons."That's it. Now off we go, back to the cart."
"How far is the camp away?" asked Phil.
"Five miles, I should think, corporal. We'll have to look precioussmart. As soon as we get the horses in, and the boxes loaded up, we'llscatter. I've enough men to spare--two in front, and two well out onthe flanks. Then if we're attacked we'll make a running fight of it."
"We've a wounded friend under the cart," replied Phil, "but I expect ifwe perch him up on top of the ammunition-boxes he'll be able to drive.Then Tony and I will give a hand by looking after the prisoners. It'llbe grand getting back to camp safely with our charge, and with a few ofthe Cossacks in addition, though, mind you, we would have been prisonersif you fellows hadn't ridden up in the nick of time."
"You're right there, corporal. You chaps made a fine stand of it, wecan all see, and we'll not forget to say something about it when we getinto camp. But you were fair goners if we hadn't been out and heard thefiring. Now let's get smartly ahead. Some more Cossacks will be ridingdown before long, and though we're all game for a brush with them, wedon't want to lose this chance of bringing in prisoners."
By this time the cart had been reached, and while half the patrolguarded the prisoners, the remainder set to work and rapidly loaded itwith the ammunition. Then the horses were yoked, Sam was placed upon afolded-up blanket on top of the boxes, and the cavalcade started, Tonyand Phil for
ming the flank guard, and proudly riding theirnewly-acquired steeds.
"I should have liked to give those poor fellows a decent burial," saidPhil with a sigh of regret as they rode away, "but it is impossible. Wehaven't any spades or picks, and, above all, it would not do to wait."
"Don't worry about that, mate," one of the troopers answered. "Theirchums is certain to come over and see to that, for these Russians ain'tbad chaps when you take 'em all round, and I hear they're as kind aspossible to one another."
An hour later the party rode into camp and caused quite a sensation.
"Why, Corporal Western, we gave you up for lost!" said the adjutant ofthe Grenadiers, coming out to meet them. "We made sure you had beenkilled or captured, and now you turn up with prisoners. How has ithappened?"
"Quite simply, sir," Phil answered, with a smile. "We were left behindwhen the shaft of our cart broke, and then we took the wrong road. Thismorning we were attacked, and beat off five Cossacks. Then othersappeared, and just as we were thinking of giving in, a patrol ofdragoons rode up."
"Giving in!" exclaimed Sam in high disdain from his elevated seat."Tell you what it is, sir. That Corporal Western don't know when thetime to hoist the white flag arrives. He meant sticking to it, so wejust backed him up."
"Whoever was the cause of your holding on, my lads, it's much the samein the end," exclaimed the officer heartily. "You have done well, andyour names shall be mentioned to the colonel. Now you had better seewhat the cooks have left, while the doctors take your wounded comrade incharge."
Handing the cart over to the quarter-master, Tony followed Phil to thecook's fire, and both were soon devouring a meal of bully beef andbread, for they were almost famished, having been too much engaged andtoo highly excited to eat while threatened by the Cossacks.
They found the Allies encamped a few miles from the River Alma, andalmost in sight of the Russian position.
"It'll be hot work to-morrow," said one of the sergeants that evening,as they sat wrapped in their blankets round the fire. "The enemy haschosen a splendid position along the heights the other side of theriver, and I expect our job will be to turn him out. It will be a bigfight, or I'm mistaken, and as we shall all have plenty to do I'm forturning-in at once and getting as long a sleep as I can. Good-night,you chaps! Corporal Western, you'll have them three stripes this timeto-morrow if you do only half as well as you and your two mates didto-day."
The stalwart sergeant laid his blanket on the ground, rolled himself init, and, placing his head on his haversack, was very soon in a deepsleep, untroubled by the fact that to-morrow might be his last day onearth.
As for Phil and Tony, they sat up an hour or more longer, chatting overpast events and the probabilities of the next day's fight, neverdreaming that it was destined to be on historical one, and one in whichthe mettle of British troops was to be tested and found of thestaunchest, by as fierce a storm of shot and shell as ever assailed anarmy.
A Gallant Grenadier: A Tale of the Crimean War Page 9