Next day the bombardment continued to rage, and Colonel Hood of the Grenadier Guards, the field-officer of the trenches on the right attack, was killed. He was succeeded by Colonel Walker of the Scots’ Fusilier Guards. Corporal George H. Collins, chosen as a sure guide, went off with the colonel, passing from the engineer park by the sailor’s camp into the ravine. They then took the Woronzoff road at a run for nearly half-a-mile, and arrived at the foot of a rocky watercourse leading to the hill on which was situated the 21-gun battery, where the colonel dismissed the corporal, and dashed on alone into the work. In going, shot and shell fell furiously into the valley, requiring a sharp look-out to keep clear of splinters. It was even worse in returning; for as the corporal’s back was turned to the fire, he barely allowed himself time to see what were his chances of life and death. Considering that his risks increased by delay, he bounded along the tortuous and broken road, stopping now and then to take breath and cover under some low rocks which jutted from the hill side; and then, pushing up the other slope of the ravine, marched into the camp unhurt. One might have thought that a service of this nature would have excused the corporal from a tour in the trenches; but such was the pressure for sappers, it could not be. At night he was on duty in the Gordon parallel, and four days later was grazed in the back by a shot, which, after striking the earth, rushed past him, and knocked him senseless.[160] He was superintending at the time a party working in the right Lancaster battery, clearing away the rock for a platform. Lance-corporal Rinhy, a ready and spirited sapper, was in No. 3 battery of the left attack on the 19th. Well had he worked that day in the embrasures; and at dusk, as the order was given to cease the cannonade, he went up to No. 6 gun to see the _last_ shot fired. The sailors manned the gun, loading it with a Russian 26-pounder ball, which had hopped among the shot piled in rear of the parapet. The ball stuck in the muzzle, and while Rinhy and the seamen were vainly trying to withdraw it, another shot whisked through the embrasure, cut the man-o’-war’s man in two, and striking the trunnion from the gun, the 24-pounder fell and smashed the sailor underneath it. The same shot passed so close to Rinhy, that it rasped a button from his jacket, and the ferocity of its wind knocked him against a traverse some five yards away. In the same battery, two or three days later, he repaired an embrasure no less than twenty-one times during his tour of duty, and kept the cheeks in such serviceable order, that the 68-pounder which fired there, discharged before nightfall as many as 198 shells and 84 shot into the Russian works, dismounting, according to nautical calculation, no less than six guns in the Redan.