Taking the end of the cotton in his own hand, the leader moved forward, followed by the rest, along a track approximating as closely as possible to that which he had taken some six hours before. Every now and then he gave a slight tug at the line; his followers at once stopped, while he took stock of his surroundings. He came to a spot whence he expected to obtain a view of the enemy’s camp. It was almost invisible, for the fires were very low. Skirting the farther side of the hill-crest, the long queue of men at length reached the utmost horn of the crescent track. By the leader the forms of the Russian sentries could be dimly seen pacing to and fro. Counting off ten men from the right of the line, he left the remaining forty in position before the Russian camp, and proceeded with the ten to a point under the hill some distance farther on in their course. Then creeping forward, he waited till the nearest sentry’s steps began to recede, then stole on again, still holding the cord, his men still following, until he came within a few yards of the sentry’s beat. Just as he reached this spot his foot struck against some obstacle; he staggered, recovered himself with an effort, and stooped to discover what had checked his progress. It was a prostrate body. Instantly he clapped his hand upon the fallen man’s mouth, lest he should cry out. Something in the touch suggested a suspicion. He placed his hand over the man’s heart; it had ceased to beat. The next moment he himself was prone upon the ground, and the ten men with him did as he did, and lay side by side, motionless. The sentry, suspecting nothing, tramped back along his beat, came to the end, wheeled round, and once more receded. Bob rose to a stooping position, and, followed closely by his ten, crept forward across the sentry’s track towards the tethered horses. From one there was a whinny, from another a snort as the men approached; otherwise not a sound. The silent ten passed round the animals, coming between them and the hill. Suddenly there sounded a cry, the challenge of a sentry. Instantly Bob fired his pistol and dashed forward towards the smouldering fire, which he stirred with a kick into a bright blaze. A moment later there was a shout, a clamour, a babel from the end of the camp. The firing of the pistol had been the pre-arranged signal for a rush by the forty. It was instantly obeyed. The Russians, half-awake, struggled to their feet, to find one force between them and their horses, and another, a larger shouting band, sweeping upon them in front. In wild confusion and affright they ran this way and that; many made no attempt even to seize their rifles; they broke towards the mouth of the gully, their flying forms making admirable targets in the firelight.