"It has, indeed," the colonel said, mournfully, "terrible! There has been nothing like it, since the retreat from Cabul in 1848. And how many of these poor fellows will reach Candahar, God only knows! The water bottles wore emptied, hours ago. The men are already exhausted with the long day's work, and parched with thirst; and we have fifty miles' tramp before us. Have you any wounded men here with you?" "Several, sir, some of them badly hurt." "Put one of the worst on my horse," Colonel Ripon said, dismounting; "and push on briskly, lads. There are some carts ahead. We will turn out the stores, and put the wounded in. "You had better let the men throw away their knapsacks, and all useless encumbrances," he said to Captain Fletcher. "You will have to march--and perhaps fight--all night; and must husband your strength." Steadily, the rear guard followed the broken column. It consisted of men of the 60th and Grenadiers, mingled together; and well did they carry out their arduous duties. A portion were thrown out on each flat, while the rest kept to the road. This was strewn with arms and accouterments of all kinds. The men's hearts were wrung to the core, by the sight of the number of wounded who had dropped by the roadside; and who implored them, as they passed, not to leave them to be murdered by the enemy. Many of them were lifted and placed in carts--everything else being turned out, to make way for them--but many had to be left behind; for it would be impossible to carry them, on such a march. Slowly the long night passed. All along the line ahead, a scattered fire of musketry could be heard; as the villagers shot down the fugitives who, in hopes of finding water, straggled from the road. Sometimes sharp volleys rang out, as the troops stood at bay, and drove back the natives, when they pressed upon them. Several times the rear guard were hotly engaged as the Afghans--furious at seeing their prey slipping from their fingers--mustered and fell upon them; but each time they were repulsed, and the column held on its way. Will was in command of a mixed band, of some forty men, which moved to the right of the road. Colonel Ripon kept by his side, but few words were spoken, through the long night. The men were half mad with thirst and, had there been water near, nothing could have restrained them from rushing to it; but they knew that none could be obtained, until they reached Candahar. Many, in utter despair at the distance before them, threw themselves down on the ground to die. But the others kept on--stumbling and staggering as they marched, stupid and half blind--rallying only when the order came to turn, and repulse the enemy. Two or three times in the night the rear guard halted, for a few minutes; and the men threw themselves down on the sand, where they picked the scattered herbage within their reach, and chewed it to quench their burning thirst.