Then Hodson gave his eager men the word to charge. They swept down upon the disordered ranks of the rebels, and were soon engaged hand to hand with their cavalry. Shouting their war-cry "Wah-hah!" the Guides cut their way through them, smiting right and left with their swords. Hodson himself was in the thick of the fray, and escaped hurt as by a miracle. His gallant horse, Feroza, was slashed with sabre cuts; his bridle was severed, and a piece of his glove was shorn off. The men were no whit behind their leader. Ahmed unhorsed one man with his lance, and recovered from the stroke just in time to ward off a desperate thrust from a sabre. The trooper at his side fell from his horse with a mortal wound in his neck; several of the horses were so badly wounded that they had to be killed. But the enemy would not stand, and the Guides' losses were only the one man killed and six wounded. So desperate was the rebels' flight that they left behind them all their baggage and the spoil of their night's work at Alipur. Hodson would fain have pursued them to the very walls of Delhi, but the horses were so fatigued by their march over the heavy ground that they were incapable of further efforts. Major Coke's guns, moreover, sank so deep into the mud that they could scarcely be moved. The rebels were on higher ground, and the Guides howled with disappointment when they saw them drawing their guns away in safety. They came up with the tail-end of the infantry ere the morning was past, and inflicted heavy loss upon them, so that Bakht Khan, who had led the column in person, had little satisfaction in his night's adventure. All that his five thousand men had accomplished was the destruction of a small village, and the capture of plunder which they were now forced to leave behind them on the field. The encounter with the enemy having taken place between the road and the canal, the British infantry could not come up in time to take part in it. But they were so much exhausted by the scorching heat of the day, following their march over the swamps, that many of the 61st sank down beneath trees as they returned to camp, and remained there until elephants were sent to bring them in. As the Guides marched back to camp, Ahmed became the object of much curious speculation on the part of his comrades. Many had noticed the doughty way in which he had conducted himself during the brief encounter, and wondered who this bearded warrior was who fought among them in a garb so strange. He rode on gravely, not turning his head, nor taking part in the talk of the others. They questioned one another in low tones about him. "Who is this stranger, and when did he come among us?" asked Rasul Khan, of Sherdil, son of Assad, as they rode a little behind him.