During the first alarm of the fire, which had broken out perilously close to the quarters occupied by Desmond's squadron, the terrified animals in their frenzied efforts to break away from the ropes, had reduced the Lines to a state of chaos. Those of them, and they were many, who succeeded in wrenching out their pegs, had instinctively headed for the parade-ground beyond the huts; their flight complicated by wandering lengths of rope that trailed behind them, whirled in mid-air, or imprisoned their legs in treacherous coils; while sowars and officers risked life and limb in attempting to free them from their dilemma. The restless brilliance gave to all things a strange nightmare grotesqueness: and a blinding, stifling shroud of smoke whirled and billowed over all. As the riders drew up, there was a momentary lull, and before dismounting Desmond flung a ringing shout across the stillness. "_Shahbash_,[16] men, _shahbash_! Have no fear! Give more water--water without ceasing!" [16] Well done. He was answered by an acclamation of welcome from all ranks. "_Wah!_ _Wah!_ Desmin Sahib _argya_!"[17] the sowars of his squadron called to one another through the curling smoke; and the new arrivals were speedily surrounded by a little crowd of officers and men: Wyndham, Denvil, Alla Dad Khan, and Ressaldar Rajinder Singh, in the spotless tunic and vast silken turban of private life. [17] Has come. The Jemadar took possession of the Demon's bridle, and Desmond, leaping lightly to the ground, hurried straightway to the relief of a distressed grass-cut. The man had been rash enough to attempt the capture of two horses at once, and now stood in imminent danger of being kicked to death by his ungrateful charges. Desmond took both horses in hand, holding them at arm's length, and soothing them with his voice alone. "Here you are, Harry!" he said, as Denvil came to his assistance. "This poor fellow will go with you now, quietly enough." Handing over his second horse to the grass-cut, he vanished into the darkness; where, betwixt stampeding horses and the incredible swiftness of fire, he found more than sufficient scope for action. He came to a standstill, at length, for a second's breathing space;--and lo, Rajinder Singh emerging suddenly from the heart of pandemonium, breathless with haste, a great distress in his eyes. "Hullo, Ressaldar!" Desmond exclaimed. "What's up now?" The tall Sikh saluted. "The knife, Sahib! Give me your knife! It is _Sher Dil_,[18] fallen amongst his ropes. He is like to strangle----" [18] Lion Heart. "Great Scott! I'll see to it myself." And he set out, full speed, Rajinder Singh after him, protesting at every step.