The pressure became more and more severe, and the men of the Jummu contingent were fast getting out of hand. Large bodies of the mutineers pushed forward on both flanks, forming a semicircle that threatened to envelop our men. Several parties from the stauncher battalions were detailed to delay these flanking movements, and of one of these, composed of about thirty picked shots of the Gurkhas, Ted was placed in charge, with Goria Thapa as second in command. He was sent some distance to the left, with instructions to roll back the right flank of the enemy for as long a time as possible. A stone breastwork, abandoned by the sepoys earlier in the day, was pointed out to him, and he had orders to rejoin the main body with all haste as soon as his position should become really dangerous. Ted's command, bending low, scurried to the breastwork, and found not only good shelter, but a favourable position commanding the enemy's advance on this flank. Their muskets began to speak, and the discourse seemed persuasive. Throughout the whole length of the horse-shoe the action was resolving itself into a series of detached and separate engagements. Ted's gallant fellows broke up one party after another of the pandies, aiming with such cool accuracy that every bullet seemed to find its billet. But while the enemy's right was held at bay, their centre and left swarmed forward, and our hero, holding on too long, presently found himself in danger of being cut off. Meanwhile the main body continued its retirement, the Rifles now forming the centre of the rear-guard. The British soldiers soon began to find the ground unfavourable, and the enemy pressed the more eagerly. Inspired to greater audacity by their success, a large body of mutineers made a plucky dash forward, and surrounded a half-company of riflemen and a few Guides in a deep nullah, from which they were in the act of retiring. These men of the Rifles had been fighting gloriously, and had spent their last cartridge before they grasped the fact that they were unsupported and the sepoys were upon them. Hidden from view of their comrades by the high sloping banks that enclosed the broad river-bed, now almost dry, they fought for their lives with the overwhelming foe, and prepared to die like the heroes they were.