We had scarcely gone half a mile when we came suddenly upon a stockade, and as soon as we appeared round the turn in the road which disclosed it to our view, we were fired on from the hillside above us. I threw myself down for protection against the sloping side of the road, but was not allowed to remain there, as the stockade was about to be rushed, and I had to get over it too, as best I could. Fortunately it had been constructed to prevent Captain Cowley’s party from getting past that point in the road, and was in consequence easier for us to clamber over, as we had come from the opposite direction; but I knew that it was useless for me to attempt climbing over it, as my dress would be certain to catch on the sharp ends of the bamboos with which the stockade was constructed, and there I should be suspended, an excellent mark for any stray bullet. So I made a rush to the other side of the road, where I lost my footing and fell, rolling down the Khud. But luckily it was not as steep as it might have been, and I managed to scramble up and get round the stockade, helped very considerably by my former friend the Bunnia, before mentioned, who stretched out his leg from a secure position, and I clambered up by it and lay down completely exhausted and panting from my exertions down the hillside. Meanwhile firing was going on overhead, which was returned by our men, who killed one or two of the enemy. But the latter were so well screened by the trees around them that it was difficult to get a shot at them at all. I do not know how matters might have ended, but suddenly someone called out that there were more men coming up the hill. No one knew who they were, for they were a long way off, and could only be seen every now and then as they appeared in and out of the trees. Sepoys they were we knew, but were they friends or enemies? I felt too exhausted to get up and look at them, as all the others were doing, until there was an exclamation from someone that the new arrivals were Ghoorkas. I had felt certain that they would turn out to be Manipuris, who would put an end to us in a very short time. But when opinion became divided as to their identity, the longing for life which we all possess so strongly surged up into my brain, driving me nearly crazy with excitement, and hope, that takes so much killing, rose again within me. Still we were doubtful. We could see as they came nearer that they wore Kharkee, but the uniform worn by the Jubraj’s men was almost identical with that of the Ghoorkas. We sounded our bugle, and it was answered by the advancing party; but then we remembered the Manipuri bugle call was the same as that of the 43rd Ghoorka Rifles, to which regiment Captain Cowley belonged. We got out our only pocket-handkerchief, tied it to a stick, and waved it about, but we could not see whether that signal was returned or not. The time which had elapsed since they were first sighted seemed hours; it was in reality only a few minutes.