There were friends close at hand, and, saddling up hurriedly, the two prepared to gallop across to them. But now a turn in the fortune of battle changed their plans, for, gallantly clinging to their position, the Turks holding the battery on the extreme left nearest the Russians had been decimated by a storm of shell, while, before they could think of retiring, 11,000 grey-coated infantry came rushing up at them. What could a mere handful of men do in the circumstances? They broke and fled, and, seeing this, their comrades in the other redoubts also took to their heels. Instantly a cloud of Russian horse burst from their ranks, and, sweeping into the plain, made short work of the flying gunners. Phil and Tony looked on, disconcerted, for to ride across to the Light Brigade now would mean almost certain destruction. "Done again by those Cossacks!" grumbled Tony, who took all the enemy's horsemen to be Cossacks. "Done brown this time, Phil!" "We'll have to wait, that's all," said Phil, with a sigh of resignation. "We are safe here, and it won't be long before those fellows ride back. See! they are already riding up the heights on our right after the Turks who bolted into the other valley." This was the case, and to follow the movement we must for the moment leave the valley into which Phil looked, and ride with the Russian horsemen over the Causeway heights. Scarcely heard upon the springy turf, the horses' feet strike hard and ring with a sound of iron upon the beaten path, and then the thunder of a thousand hoofs dies down again as if by magic, and he who rides with the fiery Cossack horsemen hears only the dull stamp upon the yielding grass, and the clatter and jangle of sabres and accoutrements. And when the summit is topped, another valley comes into view, running almost parallel with that just left behind, and merely separated from it by the Causeway heights, the slopes of which gently fall in rolling stretches of green till the bottom is reached. From there the grass runs on, undulating in big waves, sometimes falling and sometimes rising, till at last an upward sweep brings the rider to a crest from which the narrow basin of Balaclava can be seen. Yes, there it is, a fairy pool set in this wide stretch of green, and bearing upon its flashing surface a host of vessels, anchored and crowded close together. There, too, is its narrow entrance, scarcely wide enough to pass in two vessels side by side, and there, close beside its shores, is an array of huts already filled with stores, while outside, boxes of biscuit and barrels of salt pork are piled in huge stacks which overtop and completely swamp the dwellings.