"Right, sir. Wish they weren't there, though, and we could go right on; charge through 'em in no time."

He had to speak without turning his head, and Bracy did not catch half his words. But it was no time for speaking; and, forgetting for the time being his injuries and partial helplessness, Bracy began to share in his driver's excitement, and watched the movements going on below.

The height to which they had climbed had been great, and some memory of the labour they had gone through in the ascent came back as they swept rapidly down, till in an incredibly short s.p.a.ce of time they neared the rocky track, with its rugged pinnacles and ma.s.ses standing right up out of the snow.

Gedge saw that the enemy was still far below the track; and as he checked the way on the stone by gradually driving in his well-nailed boot heels, he looked to right or left for a spot where there would be a clear crossing of the track, free from projecting rocks, so that a stoppage would not be necessary. There it was, lying well to the right, narrow but perfectly practicable. For, plainly enough, he could see that there had been a snow-slide burying a portion of the track, and if he could steer between a couple of rocks, not ten yards apart, the glide down could be continued without a pause.

"It's all right, sir," he cried. "Signals is clear, and we don't stop at that station. Hoorray! Her Majesty's mails. Fast express."

It was on Bracy's lips to cry, "Take care," but he nipped them together and sat fast, feeling their pace slacken as if, to carry out Gedge's simile, they were easing down to run through a station.

Nearer, nearer, with rough crags half-buried in the snow on both sides and seeming to close in upon them as they glided down, with the narrow pa.s.s between the two rocks unaccountably growing for the moment closer together. But directly after, by clever steering, Gedge made a curve in their descent, brought the stone opposite the opening, and then let it go.

Their way rose a little as they approached the track where it was buried in the snow, but directly after the descent was steeper; and as soon as Gedge felt sure of his course they dashed through the opening at a greatly increased speed. Then he shouted in his wild excitement as they tore down towards the enemy, who were toiling upward, slipping, and even crawling on all-fours in places, while their active little pursuers were striving their best to overtake them, but pausing at times to fire.

Pursued and pursuers were still far below, but Bracy saw that it was only a matter of a short time before they would be amongst them; and now, for the first time, it was evident that their descent had caught the attention of the hill-men striving to reach the track, some of whom stopped short to stare, while a party of about twenty immediately bore off to their left as if meaning to intercept them.

"What's it to be, sir!" panted Gedge. "Charge through 'em, or stop and let 'em have it? They'll be 'twix' two fives."

"Stop!" shouted Bracy. "They'll try to check us, and slash as we come; and if we strike against even one we shall be upset."

"That's right, sir. Be ready with the rifles. Mine's charged, I think.

'Nother five hundred yards right for that lot o' twenty, and then slide off and open fire--eh?"

"You don't want your orders, Gedge," said Bracy dryly. "Quite right."

Gedge did not hear him, for, as they rushed down over the icy snow, he had his work cut out to check his awkward car, as it nearly mastered him, his heels gliding over the smooth surface and refusing to cut in.

Forcing them down, though, the speed began to slacken, till they neared the ascending group of savage faces of those who had borne off to intercept them; and as the car was brought to a stand a couple of shots were fired, and the missiles sent whistled by their heads.

"Can yer roll off, sir, and lie on yer face?" cried Gedge as he s.n.a.t.c.hed his rifle, threw himself down behind the stone, and opened his cartridge-pouch.

"Yes. Look to yourself. Fire sharply, or they'll be upon us."

"Or our bay'nets," said Gedge through his teeth.

The next moment he fired as he rested upon his elbows, and a shot from Bracy rang out, with the result that two of the group below them dropped, and a yell came from the remainder as they made a rush to reach them. But their running powers were exhausted, and at the end of twenty yards they resumed their heavy climb, with their feet breaking through the crust of frozen snow.

Crack, crack! from the English rifles, and one more dropped in his track, while another sprang wildly in advance for a few yards, before pitching forward upon his face and lying still.

"Fire steadily," said Bracy hoa.r.s.ely, "and we may cheek them."

"Right, sir. Quick, too, for the beggars on the left are closing in to help."

A couple more shots were fired, and another man went down, and then there was a yell of rage and an order from one of the party, with the result that all dropped upon their faces, checked, and began to fire at the pair crouching behind the stone, made to look bigger by Gedge's _poshtin_ lying in a little heap on the top.

"It's all right, sir; they couldn't hit a haystack. Their hands are all of a tremble with climbing. We're right enough. I hit that chap."

Proof was given, for one of the enemy started up, dropped his long jezail, and fell backwards.

"Keep on firing steadily, Gedge," said Bracy huskily. "I must open upon that group on our flank. They're coming on."

"Then we're done, for, sir," said the young soldier. "But mind this, sir; I die game, though you did call me a coward last night."

"I did, Gedge, and it was a cruel lie, my lad. Fire away. I wish I had your pluck. Look here."

"Yes, sir.--One for you," growled Gedge as he fired again.--"I'm listening, but I can't look. Hit him, sir?"

"Yes," said Bracy. "Look here."

"Can't, sir."

"Then listen. When it comes to the worst--one grip of the hand, my lad, before we go."

Crack--crack!

Two more shots in answer to the scattered fire of the enemy, whose bullets whistled over their heads, seeking billets in the snow around.

"Won't be long, sir, I'm afraid," said Gedge. "No, I ain't afraid--not a bit. But those chaps are coming on faster. 'Tain't climbing, sir, now."

"No; they'll be upon us before five minutes have pa.s.sed. Turn your rifle upon them, my lad, for two or three shots, and we may check them too."

Before Gedge could change his position a scattered volley from below somewhere rattled out, and the flanking-party coming on needed no checking, some of them falling dying or wounded, while the remainder threw themselves down and began firing, some at their pursuers below, the rest at Bracy and Gedge.

"Hoorray, sir! Didn't I say there was life in a mussel? The Ghoorkhas are at 'em. Look, sir, there's about a dozen of 'em lying down to cover the advance, and another dozen coming on with their knives. Let's show 'em how to shoot, sir. It 'll help the little chaps, too, when they charge."

It was as Gedge said; and as shot after shot was sent with good aim, the party of tribes-men in front was lessened by half-a-dozen before the little Ghoorkha party came up within charging distance and made their rush.

"Fix bayonets!" cried Bracy. "The enemy may come at us;" and the little, dagger-like weapons clicked and clicked as they flashed in the sunshine.

But Bracy and Gedge got in a couple more shots before their foes sprang up to charge them. Then a couple more dropped as they came on, while a volley from below rattled out and made their attack feeble and aimless, though they reached their goal, one to make a slash at Gedge as he was pinned by the lad's bayonet, while two more struck at Bracy. Then the Ghoorkhas were upon them, racing over the snow, their crooked knives flashing, and the remaining enemy were fleeing for their lives, scattering far and wide, with their pursuers overtaking man after man, whose white-coats made blots on the glistening snow, and many a terrible stain. Then a whistle rang out as an officer came up to the stone at the double, sword in hand.

"Hullo, here!" he cried; "who, in the name of wonder, are you? I couldn't get up in time. My boys didn't do that?"

Bracy's lips parted, but no sound came.

"No, sir," panted Gedge; "it was the straight knives did it, not them pretty little blades."

"I'm glad of that. I was afraid my boys had made a mistake. But who are you?"

"Private w.i.l.l.yum Gedge, in the 404th Fusiliers; and here's my lieutenant, Mr Bracy, sir. We was coming from the fort to fetch you."

"Ah!" cried the officer. "How is it with them there?"

"All right, sir; but hard pushed when we come away. Ain't got such a thing as a doctor about yer, have you?"

"Yes, yes. My boys shall carry you down. All right," he cried as a bugle rang out from below with the recall; and by that time the little group were surrounded by some twenty of the active Ghoorkhas, for the most part with a begonia-leaved kukri in hand, laughing, chattering, and ready to dance with delight around the two British soldiers they had saved.

Meanwhile their officer was down on one knee rendering first aid to the wounded, the knife of one of the enemy having slashed Bracy's thigh, which was bleeding profusely; and a havildar of the Ghoorkhas was cleverly bandaging Gedge's left arm, chattering to him merrily in broken English the while.