It was approaching one o'clock before the division had come up and marched into position, but there was no halting. Leading the men along to the east, past the right of the enemy, there composed solely of cavalry, and of course camped on the opposite bank of the river Kaitna, Wellesley marched down the front of the Mahrattas till he had passed Scindia's left. Then he swept to the left, opposite the village of Assaye, situated on the strip of land between the two rivers at their junction, and taking the path pointed out by Owen had no difficulty in finding the ford. A little later his infantry were across the stream, facing the guns and infantry of the enemy, this arm having been faced round to oppose them. And thus, in the early afternoon the two forces made ready for a battle which was to prove decisive. Let the reader think of the audacity of the British. Here was a force of Mahrattas estimated at 55,000 horse and foot, of whom a large number were trained and seasoned battalions. There were in addition 100 guns. Truly a formidable armament. And against this host marched the British, their General at their head, numbering, according to one authority, 1200 cavalry, 2000 sepoys, and 1300 European infantry, consisting of the 74th and 78th Highland regiments, a host in themselves. In addition we had a few guns and some 3000 native cavalry from the Peishwa, who were known to be on the eve of mutiny. No wonder that Scindia and his host stood amazed at the very audacity of such an undertaking. CHAPTER XIV A Glorious Victory Jogging along on his fine Mahratta horse, now showing some trace of the hard work it had done on this eventful day, with the troopers of his regiment behind him and Mulha somewhere near at hand, Owen passed with the army of Wellesley, if such a term could be given to the handful of men who formed the command, down the face of the Mahratta army. And like all his comrades, whether of the non-commissioned ranks or otherwise, he was filled with an indescribable feeling of elation. The chances of victory were small. Utter defeat seemed to face the gallant division marching to the banks of the Kaitna, and but for the stalwart figure of Wellesley at the head of the line confidence might well have been shaken. But not a man hung back. The soldiers in the ranks of the two Highland regiments following in the wake of the General displayed the utmost courage and coolness. They might have been marching to take their position on a parade ground, and not to hurl themselves against fifty-five thousand of the enemy. They joked, called loudly to one another, and laughed as they watched the hurried movements of Scindia's battalions. "See you later, I hope," sang out Jack Simpson jovially as his Sepoy battalion filed past our hero. "We've got a nut to crack to-day, old fellow, and we shall be lucky if we manage it. Look at the General!"