"Ulu-ulu-ulu!" scream the delighted Gurkhas.
"Ah!" gasp the astounded Sikhs and Pathans, who have never before seen cannonade like this.
Whilst the British riflemen estimate and argue the distance of the battery from the walls and the probable duration of the bombardment, the Guides and Gurkhas chatter and scream with excitement. Many of these allies of ours have been somewhat prone to consider themselves quite as good soldiers as their employers, but now they are beginning to understand a little more clearly the extent of the British power and resources. And such consideration is good for them.
Again Tombs's gunners fling their iron hail against the Delhi cannon, putting them out of action one by one.
"Why, Tombs has got within two hundred yards!" a spectator guesses.
"No, hardly so close as that," declares a second.
"Well, he ain't much farther away," another joins in. And exclamations of "Well done, Tombs!" "Well aimed, sir!" ring out from the Ridge unheeded, because unheard by the gunners steadily plying their grim trade. For Major Tombs is a general favourite; stories of his prowess and dare-devilry have spread throughout the British camp, and the approving cheers are echoed from scores of throats.
"Might this be a cricket match?" suavely enquires a captain of the 60th Rifles as he smiles at the enthusiasm.
The mutineers are aghast! How have those batteries been brought there and concealed and protected? And then, only one hundred and sixty yards from the Water Bastion, No. 3 unmasks. But, alas! the work has necessarily been done at night, and in the darkness a serious mistake has been made. The big piles of covered sand-bags, which had been placed to hide the guns from the watchful enemy, as well as to protect our gunners from their fire when the moment should come for unmasking, are found to have been carefully piled in a wrong position, so as to obstruct the aim of our guns. For men to go outside the shelter in order to remove the obstruction will not only take a long time, but will expose to almost certain death any brave enough to venture out. So thinks the heroic commandant of the battery, who fears nothing for himself, but hesitates to order his men to be shot down one by one, for so close are they under the walls that the rebel gunners can hardly miss them. But while he pauses in doubt, a Sikh sapper calmly springs outside and commences to throw down the pile before his own gun. With one accord the other sappers and gunners follow the noble example, and the clearance is effected with such rapidity that the guns are ready to open fire before the sepoys have grasped the fact of the battery's presence.