Adventure stories; Fantasy fiction, English; Quatermain, Allan (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
As we drew near the enemy I saw that they had massed their footmen in a
dense body, six or eight lines thick. There they stood to receive the
impact of our charge, or rather they did not all stand, for the first
two ranks were kneeling with long spears stretched out in front of
them. I imagine that their appearance must have greatly resembled that
of the Greek phalanx, or that of the Swiss prepared to receive cavalry
in the Middle Ages. On either side of this formidable body, which by
now must have numbered four or five hundred men, and at a distance
perhaps of a quarter of a mile from them, were gathered the horsemen of
the Black Kendah, divided into two bodies of nearly equal strength, say
about a hundred horse in each body.
As we approached, our triangle curved a little, no doubt under the
direction of Harût. A minute or so later I saw the reason. It was that
we might strike the foot-soldiers not full in front but at an angle. It
was an admirable manoeuvre, for when presently we did strike, we caught
them swiftly on the flank and crumpled them up. My word! we went
through those fellows like a knife through butter; they had as much
chance against the rush of our camels as a brown-paper screen has
against a typhoon. Over they rolled in heaps while the White Kendah
spitted them with their lances.
“The Child is top dog! My money on the Child,” reflected I in
irreverent ecstasy. But that exultation was premature, for those Black
Kendah were by no means all dead. Presently I saw that scores of them
had appeared among the camels, which they were engaged in stabbing, or
trying to stab, in the stomach with their spears. Also I had forgotten
the horsemen. As our charge slackened owing to the complication in
front, these arrived on our flanks like two thunderbolts. We faced
about and did our best to meet the onslaught, of which the net result
was that both our left and right lines were pierced through about fifty
yards behind the baggage camels. Luckily for us the very impetuosity of
the Black Kendah rush deprived it of most of the fruits of victory,
since the two squadrons, being unable to check their horses, ended by
charging into each other and becoming mixed in inextricable confusion.
Then, I do not know who gave the order, we wheeled our camels in and
fell upon them, a struggling, stationary mass, with the result that
many of them were speared, or overthrown and trampled.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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