military equipment were passed over on the pontoons; whilst the punt, which could only bear one waggon at a time, and one or two struggling horses, was in constant requisition to take over the baggage and material of the army. Fortunately the evenings were moonlight, which graced the operation with a charm that influenced the ardour and exertions of the men. Under this sombre aspect, the rush of the stream, the splash of the wave, the dip of the paddles, and the gliding of the raft, gave the exploit a feature as romantic as martial. On two or three occasions the hawsers stretched to their utmost tension, by the increasing height of the river, snapt at their weakest points. To renew them was a labour of some eight hours’ toil; and then, such was the strength of the flow, they could not be safely used. The pontoons too, being light and inflated, danced like corks on the troubled water, and were nearly torn at times from under their superstructure. Still, the men accustomed to such perils were only the more daring and energetic, and the passage was prosecuted without accident. Under the altered circumstances of wind and current, the punt would have lain idle for the want of a tow-line by which to work its way from side to side, but Lieutenant Siborne, enlarging his sphere of action, had the boat pulled down on either bank to a good offing and made to do its share of hard duty. It was however a wearying and exhausting process, for each trip was not performed under three-quarters of an hour. The conveyance of the “sick waggon” claimed especial care, but untoward mishaps made its short career eventful. When about half way across, one of its sweeps or long oars broke, and the boat with its living freight was at the mercy of the impetuous torrent. Drifting with the current it at length plunged among some willow trees below the landing-place, where a rope, passed from tree to tree, being quickly fastened to the punt, a party on shore hauled it to an opening in the bank. The hawser, however, unable to bear the strain, gave way, and the boat whirled off furiously towards a rapid in the middle of the stream. Recovered again, it was pulled up to the trees with so much force, that the overhanging branches became entangled with the waggon and nearly capsized it into the river. In this dilemma, some four or five sappers, under the direction of Lieutenant Stanton, nimbly vaulted into the willows, and with axes, promptly cut down the impeding branches, whilst others of the pontoneers, “swimming about in the boiling flood,” assisted to clear them away. All the obstacles being thus removed, the punt was successfully pulled to the sand-drift, and biding a prudent opportunity, was safely passed to the other bank.[116]