General Bounce; Or, The Lady and the LocustsWhyte-Melville, G. J. (George John)
General
General Bounce; Or, The Lady and the Locusts
Whyte-Melville, G. J. (George John)
England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
“Come, stow that!” interrupted Bill, as the _ping_ of a ball whistled
over their heads, followed by the sharp report of a musket; “here’s
music for your singing, and dancing too, faith,” he added, as the rear
files of the advanced guard came running in; and “Old Swipes”
exclaimed, “By Jove! they’re engaged. Attention! steady, men!--close
up--close up”--and, throwing out a handful of skirmishers to clear the
bush immediately in his front and support his advanced guard, he moved
the column forward at “the double,” gained some rising ground, behind
which he halted them, and himself ran on to reconnoitre. A sharp fire
had by this time commenced on the right, and Charlie’s heart beat
painfully whilst he remained inactive, covered by a position from
which he could see nothing. It was not, however, for long. The
“Light-Bobs” were speedily ordered to advance, and as they gained the
crest of the hill a magnificent view of the conflict opened at once
upon their eyes.
The Rifles had been beforehand with them, and were already engaged;
their dark forms, hurrying to and fro as they ran from covert to
covert, were only to be distinguished from the savages by the rapidity
with which their thin white lines of smoke emerged from bush and
brake, and the regularity with which they forced position after
position, compared with the tumultuous gestures and desultory
movements of the enemy. Already the Kaffirs were forced across the
ford of which we have spoken, and, though they mustered in great
numbers on the opposite bank, swarming like bees along the rising
ground, they appeared to waver in their manœuvres, and to be
inclined to retire. A mounted officer gallops up, and says a few words
to the grey-headed captain. The “Light-Bobs” are formed into column of
sections, and plunge gallantly into the ford. Charlie’s right-hand man
falls pierced by an assagai, and as his head declines beneath the
bubbling water, and his blood mingles with the stream, our volunteer
feels “the devil” rising rapidly to his heart. Charlie’s teeth are set
tight, though he is scarce aware of his own sensations, and the boy is
dangerous, with his pale face and flashing eyes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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