Chapter 7. Boots For Booty

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_ CHAPTER SEVEN. BOOTS FOR BOOTY

"Well, you needn't bite this time, old fellow," cried Roberts, with a sigh of relief, as a burst of cheers arose faintly from the front once more, to be taken up and run down the column, even the native mule and camel drivers joining in, till it reached the company which formed the rear-guard. "What does this mean?" cried Bracy excitedly. "That we're too far back to know what is going on in the front. Those are not enemies, but friends."

"What! people from the station come to meet us?"

"That's the right nail, struck well on the head, old chap; and I'm jolly glad of it, for I feel more like feeding than fighting, I can tell you."

"Roberts, old fellow, this seems too good to be true," cried Bracy joyfully.

"But for once in a way it is true. Push on, my lads; there'll be something better than bullets for a welcome to-night."

Roberts was right, for upon the last of the weary beasts bearing the baggage reaching the end of the defile, the young officers found themselves face to face with a couple of companies of their fellow-countrymen, bronzed, toil-worn looking men, many of them bearing the marks of hardly-healed sword-cuts, and looking overstrained and thin as if from anxiety and overwork, but one and all with their faces lit up by the warmth of the welcome they were ready to give the regiment which had come to their help.

The bandsmen played their best as they led the way across the lovely amphitheatre into which the gorge had opened out, towards where, high up along the northern side, and upon the rocky bank, stood the station and town of Ghittah. The river, which here flowed smooth and deep, seemed as if of ruddy golden metal, as it glistened in the rays of the sun dipping down behind the snow-mountains which shut them in. And every now and then the cheery echoing strains of the band were pretty well drowned by the cheers and counter-cheers of the relievers and the relieved.

Bracy felt his breast swell with pleasure at the warmth of the welcome, for the fraternisation was complete, the war-worn veterans seeming as if they could not make enough of the raw striplings marching by their sides towards where the British colours could be seen floating over the grim castle-like place that had been the home of one of the old hill-chiefs till the district was added to the British dominions. But look which way he would, the young officer could see no trace of the enemy.

Birds of a feather flock together naturally, and before half a mile had been covered a tall, thin, boyish-looking officer, with a star of merit in the shape of a series of strips of diachylon upon his brow, gravitated towards the rear-guard and suddenly joined their ranks, holding out and shaking hands with the new-comers.

"How are you?" he cried. "How are you? I say, don't look at a fellow like that. I'm an awful scarecrow, I know; but I'm Drummond--Tom Drummond of ours."

"Oh, you look right enough," cried Bracy merrily. "Only a bit of the polish rubbed off."

"And a bit chipped," said Roberts, laughing.

"Eh? Oh, this!" cried their new friend. "Getting better, though, now. Doesn't improve a fellow."

"Doesn't it?" cried Bracy. "I should be proud of such an order."

"It's very good of you to say so," said the young subaltern, with his eyes glistening.

"How did you get it?" asked Roberts.

"Oh, in a scrimmage with those treacherous beasts. They'd got me and about a dozen of the lads in a corner among the rocks, and it was either stand still and be cut up or make a dash with the bayonet. There were about fifty of 'em."

"So you made a dash?"

"Yes, but only six of us got through, and all damaged. One big fellow was nourishing a sharp tulwar, and he was in the act of cutting down one of my fellows, and I went at him to try and save the poor lad, but I was too late. The great brute cut him down and rushed at me."

"Well?" said Bracy, for the thin, boyish-looking officer stopped, and looked red.

"Oh, I gave point, and got well home. I put all my strength into it, and it brought me so close that instead of having my head split by his blade I had the hilt on my forehead here. It struck in a nasty place, but being, as my old Latin coach said, awfully thick-skulled, the pommel of the tulwar didn't break through. I say, though--never mind that-- have either of you fellows a spare pair of boots? I can swap a lot of loot with you--fancy swords and guns and a chief's helmet--for them. Look; I've come down to this."

He laughed and held up one leg, the lower part of which was bound in puttees, while the foot was covered with a bandaged raw-hide sandal.

"Not smart on parade," said Bracy, laughing, "but good to keep off corns."

"Yes," said the subaltern; "but I'm blest if they keep out chilblains. Oh, crumpets, how my feet do itch of a night by the fire."

"Well, I should say my boots are about your size. Roberts's wouldn't lit. He has such big, ugly feet."

"Come, I like that, Bracy. Hang it all! my trotters look liliputian beside his."

"Now," said Bracy mockingly; "but wait till you can see Drummond's feet. Look here," he added, turning to the subaltern; "you have a pair of Roberts's too; they'll do for goloshes."

"I don't care how old they are, so long as they are boots."

"All right, old fellow; we'll set you up with anything we've got," said Bracy.

"Bless you, my children!" cried the young officer. "Bless you! Never mind the dramatic business. Oh, I say, we are all glad you've come."

"You've been in a tight corner, then?"

"Tight? We've lost a third of our number, and were beginning to think the Government was going to let us be quite wiped off the slate. Here, I feel like a schoolboy again, and want to cheer."

"All right; cheer, then," cried Bracy, smiling, and clapping the speaker on the shoulder as if he had known him for years.

"No; hoarse as a crow now, and I want my breath to talk. I say, we have been sharp set. We began to feel like the talking parrot who was plucked by the monkey, ready to say, 'Oh, we have been having such a time!' Those Dwats are beggars to fight."

"We've found that out--that is, when they can take you at a disadvantage," said Roberts.

"Ah, that's their idea of manoeuvring," said Drummond. "They can tight, though. We must have killed hundreds, but they come on all the same. There were thousands of them all about the hills here yesterday."

"But where are they now?" asked Bracy.

"They melted away like snow last night and this morning, just when we were expecting an assault on the old fort yonder, which we thought would be final."

"Final?"

"Yes; we were getting dead beat. That's what makes us all so fond of you."

"I see," said Bracy, who noticed a hysterical vibration in the youth's voice.

"That was the first inkling we got of your coming."

"What! Didn't you hear from our messengers?" said Roberts.

"Didn't they get through?" cried Bracy.

"Get through? No. They wouldn't let any messengers get through. Never mind. You've all come, and if we don't have a jollification to-night my name's something else."

"Then you're all right for provisions?"

"Oh yes, for some time to come. Ammunition was his weak point. We've blazed away till the men's barrels have been hot."

"It seems as if the men of your regiment are beggars to fight too," said Bracy dryly, "judging by the appearance of some of you."

"Fight? Obliged to," said the subaltern, laughing. "Talk about practising the art of war; we ought to pass any examination. But, joking apart, it has been an awful time for the poor women and children."

"Ah!" cried Bracy. "You have women and children yonder?"

"Yes, any number, bless 'em! The ladies and the men's wives have worked like slaves--hospital work, you know. As to our doctor, he'll be mad with joy to meet yours to share the work with him. Ah! there they go."

For just then a burst of cheering came from the grim walls of the old fort, which were lined by its occupants; and mingled with the enthusiastic cries came the strains of music.

"You have your band, then?" said Roberts.

"Bits of it," said the subaltern dryly. "The brass instruments are battered horribly; and as for the wood, they are all cracked and bandaged like wounded men; while the drums are nearly all as tubby as tom-toms, through the men having mended them with badly-cured goat-skins. I say, though, talk about goat-skins, I ought to have added sheep."

"Why?" said Bracy.

"Are you fellows fond of shooting?"

"Yes," said Bracy eagerly. "Is it good up here?"

"Grand, when there's a chance of the shooting being all on your side."

"The beggars try to stalk you, then, sometimes?" said Roberts.

"Sometimes? Nearly always."

"But what have you got here--tiger?"

"Never saw one. Plenty of bear."

"All! that will do."

"Chamois-like deer, goats, and splendid mountain sheep. Pheasants too. Ah! I can give you some glorious pheasant shooting. Here they come. Oh, I say, what a pity for the old man to march our poor ragged Jacks out to see you! They'll look--"

"Glorious," cried Bracy. "I should be proud of being one of your regiment. By George; what shrimps our lads seem beside them!"

"Your lads look perfection," cried the subaltern enthusiastically. "Don't you run them down. If you'd been looking despairingly for help for a whole month you'd feel as I do. Here, I must trot back to my chiefs. Just fancy; my captain and lieutenant are both down, _non com_, and I'm in command of my company. Isn't it disgusting for the poor fellows? But they behave very well. So glad to have met you, dear boys. Ta-ta for the present. We've got a splendid feed ready for you all, and we shall meet then.--Don't forget about the boots, old chap. You shall have these to present to the British Museum. Label 'em 'Officer's Foot-gear. End of Nineteenth Century. Rare.'"

The subaltern trotted off, and with the regiment going half-mad and cheering wildly in response to the cries of welcome which greeted them, the boyish ranks marched on, solid and stiff, for a time, their rifles sloped regularly, and step kept in a way which made even Sergeant Gee smile with satisfaction. But directly after, as caps and helmets, mingled with women's handkerchiefs, began to wave from the walls, the strong discipline of the corps was quite forgotten, helmets came out of their proper places and were mounted on the ends of rifles, to be carried steadily at the slope, to be held up on high at arm's-length, and even danced up and down, in the wild joy felt by the whole body, from the Colonel down to the meanest bugle-boy, that they had arrived in time to succour the brave and devoted men, marched out of the dark gateway and formed up in two lines for their friends to pass in between them. Hardly a dark face, lined, stern, and careworn, was without something to show in the shape of injury; while nearer the gate there was a body of about two-score badly wounded and bandaged men who had hobbled or been carried out, ready to add their faint share of cheering to that of their comrades.

As Roberts and Bracy led their company towards the gate, and the young officers caught sight of the ladies standing in a group ready to greet them with outstretched hands, one of them--never mind which--perhaps it was Bracy--felt half-suffocated, while the thin, careworn faces, many of them wet with the coursing tears, looked dim and distorted as if seen through bad spectacles on a wet day; and when, after having his hand shaken a score of times and listening to fervent greetings and blessings, he got through the gateway to the great inner court, where the baggage and pack-mules, camels, and the rest were packed together in company with the native servants, the said one--as aforesaid, never mind which--said to himself:

"Thank goodness that's over! If it had lasted much longer I should have made a fool of myself. I never felt anything like it in my life."

"Bracy, old chap," said Roberts just then, "we mustn't forget about that fellow's boots. I've a pair, too, as soon as I can get at my traps. I say, I know you've got a mother, but have you any sisters?"

"Yes; two."

"I've three. Now, can you explain to me why it was that as soon as I was marching by those poor women yonder I could think of nothing but my people at home?"

"For the same reason that I did," replied Bracy rather huskily. "Human nature; but thank Heaven, old man, that they're not here."

"Oh, I don't know," said Roberts thoughtfully. "It would be very nice to see them, and I know my dear old mother would have been very proud to see us march in. My word, this has been a day!"

"Yes, and here we are. Shall we ever get away?"

"Of course we shall. But, hullo! what does that mean?"

Bracy turned at the same moment, for rather faintly, but in a pleasant tenor voice, there came out of a long box-like ambulance gharry, borne on two mules in long shafts at either end:

"When Johnny comes marching home again--Hurrah!"

And from another voice a repetition of the cheer:

"Hurrah! Hurrah! When Johnny comes marching home again, Hurrah! Hurrah!"

"Ah, Mr Bracy, sir, just having a bit of a sing-song together."

"Why, Gedge, my lad, how are you--how are you getting on?"

"I don't look in, sir, and I'll tell yer. Doctor says it's all right, but my blessed head keeps on swelling still. I don't believe I shall ever get my 'elmet on agen. My mate here, though, is getting on swimming."

"That's right. You'll lie up in hospital for a hit and soon be well."

"Orspital, sir? Yes; but it's longing to be back in barracks, tents, or the ranks as worries me. But never say die, sir. We've got here.--How do, Captain? Thank ye for asking. Yes, sir; getting on, sir. We've got here with on'y us two knocked over. Now then, sir, what next?"

"Yes, Gedge," said the young officer thoughtfully; "what next?"

"I'll tell you," said Roberts cheerily; "find our traps and that fellow's hoots." _

Read next: Chapter 8. In Quarters

Read previous: Chapter 6. Up The Gorge

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