We
halted and gave them a couple of shells, to which they very promptly
replied.
"Commandant," said one of my comrades, "let's charge them. They're not
too many for us."
"No," was the reply; "it's best to be prudent."
"Well, I'm going to have a smack at them, anyway! Coming along?" he
shouted to me, and without waiting for a reply, started down the valley.
I followed him, and we cut across over the loose stones at a breakneck
pace, not making straight for the enemy, but for a rocky ridge whence
our fire could reach them. As we climbed the ridge we were joined by two
others. When we got to the top we saw about forty horsemen in the valley
beyond.
"Fifteen hundred yards!" shouted Frank, and we let them have it. Round
and round they turned in a confused circle, like a flock of worried
sheep. Then they rode away to the right, straight into a morass, back
again, and finally retreated in amongst the bushes on the slope of the
hill, whence they favoured us with a few well-aimed shots in reply. The
whole thing had lasted barely five minutes, but we had each emptied
about fifty cartridges, so we felt quite happy. As we left the shelter
of the hill and rode back across the valley, their companions on top of
the hill turned a Maxim on us, but the bullets all went high, singing
overhead like a flight of canaries. Going up on the other side, I took a
piece of bread out of my pocket, and was just trying to persuade myself
to offer our two companions some, when crack! crack! came a couple of
Nordenfeldt shells right behind us.
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