Jenkins now rejoined the officers in the quarries. This was his third march over that toppling hill-side, almost suffocated with dust and fatigued with a restless foot, which for six hours and more had been in active motion. Before this time the fate of the day was irrevocable; the cannonade had ceased, the stormers had retired, the open was clear, but a murderous crossfire of musketry still played on our works. Seeing a wounded man of the 57th regiment struggling in front of the Quarry batteries, Jenkins and Drew volunteered to bring him in. To this Lieutenant Neville assented, and in broad daylight they bore him to the trench, resigning their charge to a party of the 57th in the rear. The poor fellow had been deeply struck in the right thigh and ankle and was torn with stones and splinters. A little later they saw other men lying exposed with bad wounds on the reverse of the advance trenches. With a broken stretcher, the sergeant and Jenkins carried away one after another into safe cover. This was a service of supreme risk, and many of the defeated stormers who filled the trenches, pale with enervation and panic, possessed nevertheless sufficient self-command to make their surprise obvious. “Look at those mad sappers!” said they, envying the courage they feared to exercise; but the humane non-commissioned officers, heedless of the taunts that assailed them, never slackened their hand till there was no longer a necessity for their exertions. Again Jenkins pushed into the ravine by the old track. “A corporal of sappers came along the hill-side from the direction of the Redan,” wrote Lieutenant-Colonel Sir James Alexander, 14th regiment.[187] “I asked him what was the news of the assault from the trenches of the right attack? He said, ‘Bad news,’ and in a few words he told of the disastrous events of the morning.” The corporal alluded to was Jenkins. Seeing a comrade, private Rollings, killed and huddled up on the slope with a broken neck, he begged Lieutenant Neville’s sanction to bear him away, as no sapper had yet been buried in the trenches. His request being granted, he, with the help of three volunteers, carried the dead sapper on a scaling-ladder across the ravine to the first parallel of the left attack, from whence he was removed to camp and honoured with a soldier’s funeral. Equally conspicuous was private George Ramsey in his endeavours to succour the wounded. He too belonged to Lieutenant Neville’s party, and crept along under the rocks till he made the open. It was a wonder with so hot a fire of musketry that he escaped. He first removed a wounded sailor who had pushed himself into a rifle-pit; and afterwards, with the assistance of Lieutenant Hallowes of the royal navy, then mate of the ‘Wasp’ steam-sloop, and a few men, he bore away on a scaling-ladder softened with wool taken from the sacks of the stormers, a brave rifleman who was struck down with severe wounds near the abattis.