Signalling therefore to Gur Buksh to keep up a hot fire, he ordered four of the men to run the field gun back to the mine. The rest he withdrew a few yards from the breastwork, posting them close against the cliff out of the direct course of the enemy’s shells, which were now working havoc on his rough defences. But finding it impossible there to observe what the enemy were doing, he ordered two men to run back to the breastwork, lie down until the guns had fired, and then spring up and observe the enemy’s movements through the gaps. They soon reported that skirmishers were again cautiously advancing along the track. Presently the bombardment redoubled in vigour, and immediately afterwards the scouts cried out that a large body of the enemy was charging. The guns ceased fire; at the short range the trajectory was so flat that the gunners could scarcely aim at the breastwork without hitting their own men. "Now, boys!" cried Bob, unconsciously addressing them as if they were Tommies, "after me!" He led them back to their former position. They spread out along the breastwork and opened fire. Bob saw a mass of two or three hundred Kalmucks streaming without any sort of order along the track, while the skirmishers who had occupied the rocks above were firing as fast as they could load. "Take your time!" he cried. "There’s no need to hurry." The first volleys were nevertheless somewhat ragged. The nerves of the Pathans, unaccustomed to the shattering effect of high explosive shells bursting within a few yards of them, were shaken; only Ganda Singh and the three other Sikhs he had with him were calm as disciplined soldiers ought to be. It was their rifles that took toll of the advancing enemy. Several of these dropped; the rest came on yelling fiercely. Bob ordered his men to fire independently. The steadiness of the Sikhs had its effect on the Pathans, who rested their rifles in holes and crevices of the breastwork and took deliberate aim. The head of the charging column was now within two hundred yards. In spite of increasing losses they still dashed on, and crowds of their countrymen were swarming over the breastwork behind them. Nearer and nearer they drew, but their ranks were thinning fast. When they were about a hundred yards from Bob’s entrenchment their leaders wavered. At this many of the men halted, in irresolution; only a few of the bolder spirits, worked up to a pitch of frenzy, pressed on until but fifty yards separated them from their goal. These never returned. With startling suddenness panic seized those who had faltered. Yelling with rage and despair they turned about and scurried like rabbits to the shelter of their breastwork, pursued by a dropping fire. When the survivors had got more than halfway back, their further retreat was covered by the field guns, and Bob again withdrew his men a little to the rear, well content with his successful stand.