It was the usual scene: first, a good blaze at each other with artillery, skirmishers to the front. Then a general advance, the enemy falling back and taking up a fresh position; there he stood until we came up close, and then he bolted. There were a good many casualties that day, and a tumbril or two of ours were blown up. I witnessed a rather curious scene at the beginning of the action. Elephants, as usual, dragged our spare ammunition for the guns and men--as bullocks were slow and could not keep up--though directly we came within manœuvring distance the elephants had to be sent to the rear; and ammunition was placed in hackeries drawn by bullocks. On that day, from accident or otherwise, the ammunition was not changed soon enough, for a long shot from the rebel battery came bounding among some of the elephants. It was the work of an instant. Up went their trunks, off their trumpets, and away they fled as hard as they could to the rear. It was an absurd sight. Nothing on earth could stop them: a mahout told me he could hardly keep his seat. We killed a good many mutineers that afternoon. We chased them till near dark (6 P.M.); and, what with the forced march of the previous day and the night crossing (to say nothing of having been under fire from 2 till 6 P.M.), our force was completely exhausted. Worn out with fatigue and hunger, we were soon sound asleep. I pitied the poor chaps who had to go out on picket after those thirty-six hours of incessant hard work. Two or three of us that evening, while pitching our tents, suddenly discovered in the dark a white mass lying near our tent pole. We had just got the pole up when one of the party trod on this white mass, which turned out to be an unfortunate wounded Sepoy, his leg broken, either by a shot or by a piece of shell--and two parts dead, though, poor wretch, he could call out for mercy and close his hands in token of salaam. Well, all I can say is, we did what we could for him, got the surgeon to dress him, and put some of our clean clothes on; the doctor amputated his leg, the only chance of saving his life; but by daylight he was gone. It was a sickening sight amid all the circumstances of the case. He was very grateful, and showered blessings on us as long as he could. Poor fellow: he must have thought, when discovered, that he would have a hard fate. I feel sure that if the case had been the other way up our man would not have escaped at their hands: that was certain. I am afraid we all carried great hatred in our compositions. The sole feeling was to sell one’s life dearly, if only one had the chance of getting to close quarters. The way the men fought was simply reckless. I have seen skirmishers go straight at the guns, and bayonet all they could reach--unsupported, and perhaps not six men close together.