CHAPTER X.

WHILE the wounded were thus being collected and made as comfortable as was possible in the circumstances, the remaining companies of the battalion came up the track leading from Hucqueliers, which had been of such service a few minutes before as a shelter against the shells of the artillery. The tramp of their footsteps on the hard surface of the road roused Walter from the reverie into which he had fallen, and leaping to his feet he commenced a careful inspection of his half company, paying special attention to the supply of ammunition. Each man on starting that morning had carried a hundred and fifty rounds, a hundred rounds in his pouches and the balance in his haversack; of this supply the men had on the average fired some forty rounds, a fact which Walter at once reported, his captain repeating the report to Colonel Daunt, who directed that the rounds remaining in the pouches and haversacks of the dead and wounded should be at once collected and distributed as far as possible to make up deficiencies. The ammunition-carts and mules of the battalion were now at hand, so that an ample supply was available; but what was collected from the casualties proved to be more than sufficient, a number of the injured, especially those men belonging to Captain Stephens's company, not having fired a shot before being struck down.

By this time the colour-sergeants of the two companies engaged had made out their roll of casualties, from

which it appeared that in Walter's company twenty-seven men had been killed and sixteen wounded, counting the men hit in the first skirmish, so that the strength of the company was now reduced to fifty-four non-commissioned officers and men. In Captain Stephens's company the losses were almost as severe, as it had its captain and eighteen men wounded, and nineteen men killed. Colonel Daunt looked very serious when these figures were reported to him, and riding over to the two companies, now closed and standing easy on the road, he congratulated them on the steadiness they had shown and on the extraordinary accuracy of their shooting.

"You have done very well, my lads," he said, "and I am very proud to command you. Your shooting could not have been better; I rode through the batteries from which you drove the French and your bullets had been everywhere. I'm not surprised cleared them out. Remember that in your rifle you have the finest weapon in the world. Push in to a thousand yards or so and you'll be a match for any artillery in the world. You have done very well."

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He stopped speaking and ran his eye keenly over the two companies. The men undoubtedly showed signs of the trial they had undergone. In the first place they were covered with dust, their faces were begrimed, many of them had slight wounds, caused by splinters of gravel, the blood from which having dried on their faces and clothing did not improve their appearance, while a harassed jaded air was clearly noticeable in all,

caused more by the severe strain to which their nerves had been subjected than by actual physical work. The Colonel turned his horse away with a sigh, and, summoning his adjutant, told him to send all the officers to him and to pass the order that the men might fall out. In a moment this was done, and the men who had not been engaged quickly crowded round those who had taken part in the fighting to question them on their experiences, and to find out who had been killed or wounded. Meanwhile the surgeons attached to the Brigade had cantered up, and were busy supervising the removal of the wounded to the temporary hospitals which were being hastily prepared in the village of Hucqueliers.

While this was going on Colonel Daunt informed the assembled officers that the Brigadier had determined to change the order of march of his brigade, and that the Fusiliers would now follow in rear instead of taking the lead. "This is no slur on us, gentlemen," he said. "The Brigadier is very well pleased with the manner in which the battalion has worked; but the day is hot, we have suffered a certain amount of loss and have had much more to do than the other battalions, so the Highlanders will now go on in our place, and we shall follow the Cumberland Regiment. That will do, gentlemen." The officers saluted and rejoined their companies, while the Colonel, dismounting from his horse, lighted a cigar and strolled thoughfully to and fro, his hands clasped behind his back.

Walter and O'Neil were immediately surrounded by their brother subalterns, who were very envious of their good fortune in having been under fire. Many glasses were turned on the scene of the cavalry conflict, which even from that distance could

be plainly picked out by the numerous little specks, the victims of the combat, which were thickly strewn over the trampled ground; similar signs also showed the direction in which the combat had swayed towards the village of Avesnes. Looking more to the east, the wreck of the British horse-batteries could be clearly seen. It was now being inspected by a number of mounted officers, who were riding slowly through the guns, pulling up here and there to examine details which required particular notice. Further in the distance a number of teams were trotting to the spot to remove the guns and waggons. No sign of the enemy was to be seen, for Walter's view was limited by the villages of Herly and Avesnes to the south-east, by the gently rising ground between him and Rumilly to the east, and to the north by the higher ground above Ergny on the far side of the valley separating that village from Wicquinghem. The sound of firing had ceased, except for a distant mutter of artillery from the south-east, and all the higher ground in the direction in which the enemy had retired was now covered by the British mounted troops, who were slowly and cautiously advancing. The road between Maninghem and Avesnes was crowded with infantry, whom Walter assumed to belong to the First Corps, and the dust clouds rising as far as he could see, both to the north and south, told of the masses which were being pushed forward. The Highlanders who were to lead the Brigade in their advance were now halted, deployed along the sky-line, almost on the spot from which the Fusiliers had driven the French horse-batteries. Standing as they were, clearly defined against the blue haze of the distant landscape, there were many observations as to the excellent target they would offer;

while the other battalions of the Brigade, lying down on the stubble between the Fusiliers and the Highlanders, though in a much closer formation and considerably nearer, were by no means easy to see except with glasses. It was possible that a casual observer might have altogether overlooked their presence, so well did the neutral shades of their clothing harmonise with the tints of the ground on which they were lying.

Walter now looked at his watch and found to his surprise that it was only eleven o'clock; at the same time he became suddenly conscious that he was extremely hungry, and remembered with delight the sandwiches which he had that morning placed in his haversack. Many of the men were likewise busy with the bread they had brought with them, though they were not allowed to attack their more substantial rations without permission. Walter finished his sandwiches, lighted a cigarette, and throwing himself back against the bank between the roadway and the field, gazed lazily round him, at last feeling that his nerves had recovered their tone, and that he was fit again for any duty which might be required of him. His brother-officers were similarly engaged. It was too hot to talk, and they contented themselves with sprawling along the line of the roadway, some of them smoking, some of them dozing, one or two writing in pencil letters for home on the cover of their notebooks, and all, to all appearance, blissfully unconscious of such things as battle, murder, and sudden death. Colonel Daunt alone paced to and fro, now impatiently looking to where the Highlanders, by this time lying down, lined the high ground in front, now peering through his glasses at the distant columns still moving in steady pro

gress on every road, and anon relapsing into a brown study, resuming his monotonous walk, his chin sunk on his chest, his hands clasped behind him.

Suddenly the attention of all, both officers and men, was attracted by a curious object soaring high in air over the troops marching along the road leading from the coast towards Maninghem. It appeared to consist of several large rectangular frames, connected in some manner, beneath which was suspended a small dark object. It moved rapidly, and soon the troops marching within view of the Fusiliers were seen to be crowding off the road to allow of the passage of a steam-motor to which this strange apparatus was attached. Colonel Daunt had been attracted by the men's surprise at seeing this queer object for the first time. He raised his glasses and looked at it for a moment.

"Do you mean to tell me that no one knows what that is?" he asked. No one volunteered an answer, and Colonel Daunt went on. "That's one

of the new military kites. I knew there was some idea of trying it, should the wind prevent balloons being used. It's no new idea, as it was proved several years ago that men could be raised by kites quite safely, but somehow it has never been pushed enough. That dark speck under the kites is a man; he has a pretty good field of view up there, and is telephonically connected with someone below on the car. Of course he is a selected Staff-Officer. Perhaps you can see a dark line, rather thicker than the cords connecting the planes, vertically over the head of the man in the kite?" There was a general murmur of assent. "That's a parachute arrangement, so that he would have an easy fall, should an accident happen. On a

windy day like this the kite has a great pull, as you remember they could not manage the balloon at all this morning."

A number of mounted officers were trotting behind the motor from which the kite was flying, and behind them again followed a number of cyclists. The Fusiliers watched the strange apparatus with curiosity as it passed, some half a mile from them, till the motor and its attendants were hidden from their sight by the houses of Avesnes. The kite of course still remained in view, and before long it was noticed to be stationary, apparently flying over the high ground to the south-east of the village. Still there were no orders for the Brigade to move, and it was not till nearly an hour later (an hour spent by most of the Fusiliers in sleeping, their widebrimmed hats shading their faces from the scorching sun,) that the Highlanders were seen to be falling in again. At the same time a man, with a flag in each hand, placing himself on the right of the Highlanders, where he could be plainly seen against the sky-line, began to signal an order for the Brigade to advance, the Fusiliers to close on the Cumberland Regiment. In a moment the sleepers were roused, the battalion fell in in line along the road beside which they had been resting, and all was ready for the advance. A moment more and the battalion was in motion, moving in line towards the hollow where the Cumberland Regiment had been resting, the men striding freely over the stubbles, their feet swishing through the burnt-up growth left by the reapers, the ammunition-carts jolting behind, and with them the two mules, lazy, half asleep in the heat, their long ears flopping at each step.

As the Fusiliers drew near to the remainder of the Brigade, the Cumberlands went on after the Rifles who

were directly behind the Highlanders, each battalion in turn dipping into the hollow beyond the highway out of sight of the Fusiliers. Soon they passed over the ground on which the French horse-batteries had stood, and the loss which they had suffered could be plainly guessed from the number of dead, both men and horses, still lying where they had fallen. Walter asked a corporal, who with half a dozen men of the bearer-company, was stretched smoking under one of the poplars, if there had been many wounded French there. The man sprang to his feet: "Between thirty and forty, sir," he answered saluting, adding, as an after-thought, "We're waiting for the ambulance to come back, sir." This sounded a very considerable number to have been wounded in such a short encounter, and coupled with the dead, of whom there were at least a dozen stretched on the ground, bore a terrible testimony to the deadly accuracy of our rifle-fire.

Crossing the road the battalion found themselves about to descend into a hollow, across which the other battalions of the Brigade were now moving, presenting a fine appearance as the three long undulating lines swept on, now rising over a hillock in their path, now dipping as they passed a slight depression. On the road itself the carts of the Brigade ammunitionreserve were standing, and, as the Fusiliers passed, they followed bumping and rattling along behind the carts belonging to the battalion. Behind them again came some orderlies leading led horses. At the top of the ascent at the far side of the hollow the Brigadier, accompanied by his Brigade-Major, was waiting for his command. Each battalion as it came up to him, formed into column of route and moved in fours down the road leading to Rumilly.

As the battalion altered its forma