Engineers by Major Dorwood. So they marched slowly forward. The progress was like that of some ponderous machine, slow, regular, compact, despite the hail of bullets that came from front, left and right, and ultimately from the rear. Some ten or twelve thousand Arabs it was seen had surrounded the Zareba. There was no retreat; it was "do or die!" About 9.50 a.m., about 5000 of the enemy were seen on the opposite side of the square, 400 or 500 yards distant, and seemed as if they would make a dash for our square. Dervishes on horseback, and some on foot, marshalled them, standing a few paces in front of the frantic host. With banners fluttering, tom-toms clamouring, and shouts of Allah, they began to move towards our square. The skirmisher's fire seemed to have no effect; though a few of them fell, they ultimately made a run towards us like the roll of a black surf. Lord Charles Beresford's superintendence was moved to the left face, rear corner, to be brought into action; for here they seemed to press the attack. Unhappily, before many rounds had been fired, the cartridges stuck and the weapon was useless. Still down came the Arab wave. One terrible rush of swordsmen and spearmen--scarcely any carrying guns--their rifle fire had practically ceased. In wild excitement, their white teeth glistening and the sheen of their brandished weapons flashing like thousands of mirrors; onward they came against us." The writer says:--"A volley of shot was sent into them at 150 yards; at least one hundred Arabs fell, and their force wavered, as a man stops to get his breath; but the forces behind them came leaping over their falling brethren, and came charging straight into our ranks. I was at that instant inside the square, when I noticed our men shuffling backwards. Some say Colonel Burnaby issued an order for the men to fall back, but I did not hear it. Burnaby rode out apparently to assist our skirmishers, who were running in, hard pressed: all but one succeeding in getting inside the square: Burnaby went, sword in hand, on his borrowed nag, for his own had been shot under him that morning--he put himself in the way of a Sheik who was charging down on horseback. Ere the Arab closed with him a bullet from some in our ranks brought the Sheik headlong to the ground. The enemy's spearmen were close behind, and one of them clashed at Colonel Burnaby, pointing the long blade of his spear at his throat. Burnaby leant forward in his saddle and parried the Moslem's thrusts; but the length of the weapon (8 feet or more) made it difficult to deal a blow as desired. Once or twice the Colonel managed to touch him. This only made him the more alert. Burnaby fenced smartly, just as if he was playing in an assault-at-arms, and there was a smile on his features as he drove off the man's awkward points. With that lightning instinct which I have seen the desert warrior display in battle, whilst coming to another's aid, an Arab who had been pursuing a