But, all unknown to them, behind a thin line of trees some short distance to the rear, there silently gathered together many hundreds of figures, which, by reason of their lithe, gliding movements and their practical invisibility might have passed for a mysterious aggregation of spirits from some other sphere. Not a word was uttered, and such orders as were issued seemed to pass down the long lines as the wind whispers through the grass. Shortly afterwards a score of these grey figures detached themselves from the larger body and stealthily, like Red Indians on the trail in an enemy's country, moved up to and beyond the advanced line of the British trenches. Down these, under the breath, was passed the word, "The Indians are going out," and the already alert Tommies craned their heads forward into the misty night to watch events. The score of ghostly figures suddenly disappeared from their view, and, python-like, crawled noiselessly to the first German trench. Here were the German look-out men. What happened there exactly is not known. There was no shout or sudden cry, but in a few minutes the British soldiers saw one of the score reappear like an apparition and go back to his comrades in the rear. Then the hundreds waiting there filed past the trenches just as silently as had the advanced party before them, and also disappeared in the direction of the German lines. For five minutes there was perfect quiet. Then came a few shots, followed by a wild splutter of musketry, intermingled with cries and groans. Three or four light-balls were thrown in the air, and by their means the British troops could see, some 600 yards to their front, a mass of wild and struggling men, the gleam of steel, and the whirling rush of the rifle-butt. It was the Pathans at their deadly work. For ten minutes they hacked and slew amongst the half-awake and wholly-bewildered Germans, who had laid down in serried ranks to await the order for the night assault on the British trenches. The score of Pathans who had gone out in advance had silently slain the German pickets, and the main body had thus been enabled to get right amidst the sleeping foe unchallenged. The slaughter was terrible, and only ended when the Germans, thoroughly aroused to their peril, bolted and ran. Then their swarthy assailants, glutted with their night's work, came back briskly, but just as silently, to their original post. The threatened German attack had been turned into a bloody defeat. For hours afterwards the furious Germans poured a hail of shrapnel and shell into our trenches, in the hope of obtaining some revenge for their terrible punishment.[11]