Now the 22nd (the Cheshire Regiment) were on the top of the bank, thinking to bear down all before them, but "they staggered back in amazement at the forest of swords waving in their front. Thick as standing corn, and gorgeous as a field of flowers, stood the Baluchis in their many-coloured garments and turbans; they filled the broad, deep bed of the ravine, they clustered on both banks, and covered the plain beyond. Guarding their heads with their large dark shields, they shook their sharp swords, beaming in the sun, their shouts rolling like a peal of thunder, as with frantic gestures they dashed forward with demoniac strength and ferocity full against the front of the 22nd. But with shouts as loud, and shrieks as wild and fierce as theirs, and hearts as big, and arms as strong, the Irish soldiers met them with the queen of weapons--the musket--and sent their foremost masses rolling back in blood." The Baluchis closed their dense masses, and again the shouts, the rolling fire of musketry, and the dreadful rush of their swordsmen were heard and seen along the whole line; and such a fight ensued as has seldom been recorded in the annals of war. These wild warriors continually advanced, sword and shield in hand, striving in all the fierceness of their valour to break into the opposing ranks; no fire of small-arms, no thrust of bayonets, no sweeping discharges of grape from the guns, which were planted in one fearful mass on the right, could drive the gallant soldiers back; they gave their breasts to be shot at, they leaped upon the guns by twenties at a time; their dead went down the slope by hundreds, but the gaps in their masses were continually filled up from the rear; the survivors of the front rank still pressed forward with unabated fury, and the bayonet and the sword clashed in full and frequent conflict. Our loss in officers was heavy, and our native troops, deprived of leaders though not of gallantry, were several times forced into rearguard action; but at a given moment a charge made on the enemy's right by our entire but small body of horse, under the command of Colonel Pattle, won the day. The Baluchis had kept their ground for more than three hours, but now they began to retreat in masses, still keeping well together, with their broad shields slung over their backs and their heads half turned towards their pursuers. The victors followed closely, pouring in volley after volley, until tired of slaughtering. "Yet," says Napier, "those stern, implacable warriors preserved their habitual swinging stride, and would not quicken it to a run, though death was at their heels."