For Fortune and Glory: A Story of the Soudan WarHough, Lewis
History
For Fortune and Glory: A Story of the Soudan War
Hough, Lewis
Great Britain -- History, Military -- 19th century -- Fiction; Sudan -- History -- 1881-1899 -- Fiction
The scene would have resembled a holiday sham fight but for those
figures which lay motionless, taking no further part, so orderly and
regular was the advance. Presently the combat entered on a new phase.
Unchecked by the storm of fire which had broken out upon them, the
Highlanders and South Staffordshire pressed steadily on amongst the
rocks; when there was room they squeezed between them; when this could
not be done they swarmed over them; still they pressed steadily on.
Steadily, indeed, but slowly. Behind each rock there was an Arab, and
when a soldier wriggled round it or swarmed over it, he found himself
engaged in a hand-to-hand conflict, in which, however, the bayonet
generally proved victorious over sword or spear. It was most
magnificent fighting; each individual man had to force his independent
way in the face of a deadly fire from hidden foes, at whose covers he
went straight. If he were hit there was an end of his course; but, if
he stood up, into the hiding-place where his foe lay concealed, he was
bound to go; and then, if he killed his man, as he mostly did, forwards
and upwards at another. There was no sense of support afforded by the
touch of comrades, and the being an item of a serried mass, as in the
case of the majority of the battles of the Soudan, fought in square
formation. Then there might be unsteady or pusillanimous soldiers,
whose faults were hidden by their firmer comrades, from whose presence
and example they gained confidence; but at Kirbekan every soldier fought
on his own account, as it were, and failure in courage or dash in any
individual would have been at once perceptible. But there was no such
failure, and the Black Watch and South Staffordshire fought as British
soldiers fought in the Peninsula, at Waterloo, at Alma, and at Inkerman.
Higher and higher they came, and the Arabs began to grow uncontrollably
excited. The Sheikh Burrachee came to the post occupied by Harry, who
immediately let loose his rifle at a fine rock near which there was
nobody. But he might have spared himself the trouble; his uncle never
noticed him; he only came there because the spot afforded the best view
of a portion of the English advance.
"It is impossible!" he cried; "and yet there they are. Has Sheytan
given them charmed lives?" and he charged down, waving his banner, and
calling on his tribesmen to follow him and extirpate the infidels.
Harry saw him falter on the brow of a crag, stretch his arms wide, drop
weapon and banner, and fall backwards. Forgetting everything else at
the sight, he ran down to him and raised his head.
He was quite dead.
"Poor Uncle Ralph! You were kind to me, and you loved my dear mother.
Would that you had met with a better fate!" he said, as he turned away,
and looked about for the means of escape.
There was no reason for further delay; the Arabs had too much to do to
look after themselves to notice him; and his uncle was dead!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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