wherein are described an assault, a furious fight, and some strange personal encounters.

it was nearly two o’clock in the afternoon when captain lacey and his company resumed their place in the square.

about that time an officer of the berkshire regiment represented the condition of his men as requiring attention. they certainly did require it, for they had been without food since four o’clock that morning, and were consequently in urgent need of provender as well as rest and water—the last having been all consumed.

as it was imperative that the work should go on, it was found necessary to serve out food by wings.

accordingly, the men of one half-battalion received rations and water, and were then sent to their zereba with the gardner guns, while the other half, still lying in reserve by their piled arms, received their rations.

the marines also sat down for brief rest and refreshment. among them was our sedate friend stevenson, who invariably carried his small bible with him in all his campaigns. after quickly consuming his allowance, and while waiting for water, he sat down to read a few verses of the 23rd psalm,—for stevenson was one of those quiet, fearless men who cannot be laughed out of doing right, and who have no fear of the face of man, whether scowling in anger or sneering in contempt.

“hallo, tom!” said a light-hearted comrade near him, “this is a queer time to be readin’ your bible. we’ll be havin’ you sayin’ your prayers next!”

“i’ve said them already, fred,” replied the marine, replacing the book in his pouch. “as you say, it is a queer time to be readin’ the word, but not an unsuitable time, for this may be the last chance that you and i will ever have of readin’ it. our next orders may be to meet god face to face.”

stevenson was yet speaking when a lancer was seen approaching at a wild gallop. he dashed up to the generals and informed them that the enemy was gathering in front.

the message was barely delivered when another lancer rode up and reported the enemy close at hand.

the order, “stand to your arms!” was promptly given and as promptly obeyed, without flurry or disorder.

next minute a wild uproar was heard, and the lancers were seen galloping towards the square with thousands of the swarthy warriors of the desert at their heels—nay, even mixed up with them!

on they came, a dark, frantic, yelling host, with irresistible fury, and, perchance, patriotism! shall we deny to those men what we claim for ourselves—love of hearth and home, of country, of freedom? can we not sympathise with men who groaned under an insolent and tyrannical yoke, and who, failing to understand or appreciate the purity of the motives by which we british were actuated, could see nothing in us except the supporters of their enemies?

they hurled themselves on that part of the large zereba which was defended by the bengal native infantry. these fired a volley, but failed to check the impetuous rush. everything went down before the savages, and the native infantry broke and fled, throwing into dire confusion the transport animals which stood in their immediate rear.

general mcneill himself dashed in among the panic-stricken men and sought to arrest them. he succeeded for a time in rallying some of them in number 1 zereba, but another rush of the arabs sent them flying a second time, and some of the enemy got into the square, it is said, to the number of 112. the berkshire men, however, stood fast, and not a soul who got into that square ever got out of it alive. in this wretched affair the 17th bengal native infantry lost their brave commander. he was killed while trying to rally them.

the confusion was now increased by the enemy driving the baggage-animals hither and thither, especially on to another half-battalion square of the berkshire regiment. here, however, they were effectually checked. as the atlantic billows burst in impotent turmoil on the cliffs of cornwall, so the enemy fell upon and were hurled back by the steadfast berkshire regiment, which scarcely lost a man, while over two hundred of their opponents lay dead around them.

the bombay regiment also stood fast, and redeemed, to some extent, the credit of their country; while the sikhs, as might have been expected of them, never flinched for a moment, but strewed the plain around them with dead and dying men.

there was horrible carnage for some time—unflinching valour being opposed to desperate courage; and while a burning sense of injury, with a resolve to conquer or die, was the motive power, no doubt, on one side, on the other there was the high sense of duty to queen and country, and the pride of historical renown.

owing to the suddenness of the attack, and the occupation of the troops at the moment, there was some mixing up of men of different regiments. one company of sikhs, who were helping to unload the camels when the fight began, having been prevented from joining their own regiment, cast in their lot with the marines. the better to help their european comrades these vigorous fellows leaped outside the zereba and lay down in front of it, and the two bodies together gave the charging foe such a warm reception that they never got within twenty yards of them.

but there was a fearful scene of butchery among the baggage-animals, and many unequal hand-to-hand conflicts. there was terrible slaughter also among the working parties that had gone out to cut bushes with which to finish the zerebas, with coats off and away from their arms. some individuals of the marines, who, as a body, suffered severely, were surrounded by a dozen arabs, and their bodies were afterwards found covered with spear-wounds. this was the case with a sergeant named mitchel, who had charge of a wood-cutting party and had been quietly chatting with our friend stevenson just before the attack. another case was that of private stanton, who had been through the egyptian campaign of 1882, had fought at kassassin, tel-el-kebir, el-teb, and tamai. when this expedition of which we write was arranged, he was one of the first to volunteer. he chanced to be outside the zereba when the attack was made, and failed to appear at muster. next day he was found dead, with many spear-wounds, at some distance from the force. poor fellow! he had not been killed outright, and had attempted to crawl towards the zerebas, but in his confusion had crept away in the wrong direction, and had slowly bled to death on the sands of the desert.

during the rapid progress of this terrible scene of bloodshed, miles and his friend armstrong stood and fought shoulder to shoulder in the front rank at their allotted corner of the square—chiefly with bullet, but also, on several occasions, with bayonet, when the rush of the enemy threatened to break through all barriers, and drive in the line of defenders. they would certainly have succeeded, had these defenders been less powerful and resolute.

“well done!” exclaimed a deep bass voice, in evident enthusiasm, close to miles.

the latter glanced round. it was the voice of his friend jack molloy, who helped to work the gardner gun, and who was at the moment admiring the daring act of an officer of sikhs.

two men of the berkshire regiment, who had been employed outside the zereba, were pursued by several arabs, and it was evident that their death was almost certain, when the sikh officer referred to rushed out to the rescue, sprang between the men and their pursuers, killed three of the latter in succession with three rapid sword-cuts, and enabled the soldiers to escape, besides which, he checked the rush at that part of the square, and returned to his post in safety.

the cheer of the berkshire men and others who witnessed this feat was heard to rise above even the yells of combatants, the shrieks of the wounded, the rattle and crash of fire-arms, and the general turmoil and din of war.

in one of the working parties that were out when the assault began was our friend moses pyne and his comrade rattling bill simkin. these had been separated from the rest of their party when the first wild rush was made by the foe. the formation of the ground favoured their dropping into a place of concealment, thus for the moment saving them from the fate of being surrounded and cut to pieces, like too many of their straggling comrades. for a few seconds they lay close while the enemy rushed past like a torrent, to the assault just described.

then moses uprose, with an expression of stern resolve on his usually meek countenance.

“simkin,” he said, as his comrade also got up, “i’m not goin’ to lie hidin’ here while our boys are engaged wi’ the savages.”

“no more am i, moses,” returned rattling bill, with something of the jovially reckless air still lingering on his solemnised visage. “but we’ve not much chance of getting back to the zerebas without arms.”

“what d’ee call that?” asked moses, holding out his chopper.

“a very good weapon to fight the bush with,” answered simkin, “but not worth much against arab spears. however, comrade, choppers are all we have got, so we must make the most of ’em. they say a good workman can work with any tools. what d’ee propose to try? i’ll put myself under your orders, moses; for, although you are a meekish sort of a fellow, i really believe you have a better headpiece than most of us.”

“i propose that we simply go at ’em,” said moses. “take ’em in rear, cut our way through, and get into the zereba—that’s all. it don’t take much of a headpiece to think that out.”

“go ahead, then! i’ll back you,” said rattling bill, without the least touch of bravado, as he bared his right arm to the shoulder. both men were in shirts and trousers, with sleeves tucked up and their brawny arms exposed—arabesquely brown up to the elbow, and infantinely white above that!

the intended rush might have been successful, but for a change in the tactics of the enemy. seeing that they were severely repulsed at the corner of the square, where molloy and his tars worked the gardner gun, while miles and his comrades plied bullet and bayonet, the arab chief sent a body of his followers to reinforce this point. it was just at the moment that moses and simkin made the dash from their place of concealment, so that they actually leaped, without having intended it, into the very midst of the reinforcements!

two of the arabs went down before the choppers instantly, and the others—almost panic-stricken by the suddenness and severity of the assault—turned to fly, supposing, no doubt, that an ambush had caught them. but seeing only two men they ran back, and would certainly have made short work of them if rescuers had not come up.

and at this point in the fight there was exhibited a curious instance of the power of friendship to render steady men reckless. the incident we have just described was witnessed by the troops, for, the moment the two soldiers left their place of concealment they were in full view of the large zereba.

“that’s moses!” exclaimed armstrong excitedly.

without a moment’s hesitation he sprang over the defence-works and ran to the rescue, clubbing his rifle as he went and felling two arabs therewith.

“you shan’t die alone, willie!” muttered our hero, as he also leaped the fence and followed his friend, just in time to save him from three arabs who made at him simultaneously. two of these miles knocked down; his comrade felled the other. then they turned back to back; moses and simkin did the same, and thus formed a little impromptu rallying square. this delayed the catastrophe, which seemed, however, inevitable. the brave little quartette, being surrounded by foes, could do nothing but parry with almost lightning speed the spear-thrusts that were made at them continually.

seeing this, the heart of jack molloy bounded within him, and friendship for the moment overcame the sense of duty.

“you can only die once, jack!” he exclaimed, drew his cutlass, leaped out of the zereba, and went at the foe with a thunderous roar, which, for a moment, actually made them quail.

infected with a similar spirit, stevenson, the marine, also lost his head, if we may say so. resolving to run a-muck for friendship’s sake, he followed the sailor, and increased the rallying square to five, while molloy skirmished round it, parrying spear-thrusts, at once with left arm and cutlass, in quite a miraculous manner, roaring all the time like an infuriated lion, and causing the enemy to give back in horror wherever he made a rush.

a root, however, tripped him up at last, and he fell forward headlong to the ground. a dozen spears were pointed at his broad back, when a tall majestic arab sprang forward and held up one hand, while with the other he waved a sword.

at that moment a strong force of the enemy came down with an impetuous rush on that corner of the zereba, and, coming between it and the little knot of combatants, hid them from view.

the attack at this point was very determined, and for a few moments the issue seemed doubtful, for although the enemy fell in heaps they came on in such numbers that the defenders were almost overwhelmed. steadiness, however, combined with indomitable courage, prevailed. everywhere they were repulsed with tremendous loss. many instances of personal bravery occurred, of course, besides those we have described, but we may not pause to enumerate these. tenacity of life, also, was curiously exhibited in the case of some of the desperately wounded.

one man in charge of two mules outside the zereba was trying to bring them in when he was attacked, and received three terrible spear-wounds in the back and one in the arm, which cut all the muscles and sinews. yet this man ultimately recovered, though, of course, with the loss of his arm.

another man lost a leg and an arm, and was badly wounded in the other leg and in the hand, and, lastly, he was shot in the jaw. after being operated on, and having his wounds dressed, the doctor asked him how he felt.

“all right, sir,” he answered. “they’ve crippled me in arms and legs, and they’ve broke my jaw, but, thank god, they have not broke my heart yet!”

it was eight minutes to three when the arabs made their first rush, and it was just ten minutes past three when the enemy was finally repelled and the bugle sounded “cease firing.” yet into these pregnant eighteen minutes all that we have described, and a vast deal more, was crowded. nearly four hundred of our men were killed and wounded, while the enemy, it is believed, lost over two thousand.

it is said by those who were present at the engagement that the officers of the 17th bengal infantry were heard to say that if their men had not given way, there would have been no “disaster” at all, and general mcneill instead of being accused of permitting himself to be surprised, would have got credit for a heroic defence against overwhelming odds. if he had carried out his instructions, and pressed on to the end of eight miles, instead of prudently halting when he did, there can be no doubt that the force would have been surprised and absolutely cut to pieces.