The record-union. [volume] (Sacramento, Calif.) 1891-1903, 1897-08-05

a kitten. There's no satisfaction be-
ing killed by a man you can't see. If
Were going to be killed, I would like
to be close up to the chap.
Jenkins said nothing. But he kept
turning round TO Sc who had been
struck And all the While the sand was
blowing over US in thin clouds, blind
ing US, choking US. driving US furious"
why the blazes can't we open fire.
one of the Sergeants behind me NUT
tered This amt no fun"
Keep closer, men, keep closer; con-
found you, keep closer!" roared the
Colonel.
Il thought he said we was TO spread
out a bit" grumbled Jenkins.
It was slow work getting forward.
We We're on the sandy plain, and the
black fellows up in the rocks had a
pretty big target.
I had always thought a man yelled
when he was ripped into with a bullet.
He just groaned and cursed.
Lots of the shots fell short and knock
ed up little puffs of sand like clouds.
Lord" grunted Hempson, with the
square chin, "hev | been struck"
There was a great tear across his
shoulder. Somebody gave tug at his
jacket. and his gray flannel shirt was
redder than a parade tunic. 1T don't
hurt; not blamed bit!''
Then he sat down and tainted.
Il do wonder if I'm to be hit?" whin
ed Jenkins.
He could hardly hold his rifle. He
was trembling, his lips as white as his
cheek, and his eyes shifting as though
he expected to see the bullet coming.
Every time there was the whistle of one
he started.
He was miserable little begger. thin
legged and narrow-chested. l think he
came from Knightsbridge way. He had
been a clerk. But he was no good at
that, and his folks turned him out of
doors, and then how he lived till he
joined the Fifty-third I'm blessed if 1
know. He hadn't enough food as a
youngster. At least it looked like that.
He and I were among the skirmishers.
I don't think there was much chance of
us being picked off quicker than the
others; but Jenkins hand was so shaky
he couldn't stick a cartridge in his
rifle
When I tried to lodge a cartridge some
sand blew in and it damned That's the
sort of thing that worries A man when
fighting.
How those blacks pe1ted us! We all
began grumbling at not firing back
Don't waste anything!" the Colonel
yelled, above the noise. Don't throw
anything away. Don't shoot till you
see the whites of their eyes. Then let
in to them!"
The air was suffocating. A hot reek
seemed to hang over US, and began TO
feel sick. / felt like tumbling when a
fellows cheek was slit down as with
sabre.
There was an awful row among the
men with the machine guns. go on,
pull up there!" and down came the
thong on the mule, which would spring
forward. Hold hard, you fool; do you
want to break the square?" and then
the mules head would be jerked.
Fletcher" whined little Jenkins, if
I should be killed, you might-might let
my gal know. She's IA slavey, as lives
in-Almightyi"
A bullet crashed into his helmet and
went into a mans shoulder behind
Jenkins staggered as though he had
been hit.
That's a pretty narrow squeak. It's
good job you're a little un,' / said,
trying to laugh.
Jenkins did laugh, but rather strange
~.
That's your first taste of war"
added. It'll put life into you like a
gill of rum. You'll be all right when
you get up to the blacks. You won't
have time to funk it. You'll have to
fight like the very devil Buck up!'
He laughed again. And 1 don't think
he trembled quite so much.
How terribly slow our advance was.
1t was a crawl! We were huddled to-
gether. first swaying this way then
that We We're tired, and bedrag gled.
We didn't seem to be taking much no
tice of the enemy. We were letting
loose at one another with our tongues.
There was the rattle of gun carriages
and the click of the rifles. The baggage
in the center of the square was constant
" getting into a hopeless muddle, and
the officers We're Tuning. And then the
ambulance men got in the way, and all
was confusion. and men dropping
wounded. The banging of the guns up
the rocks was alomst lost in the din.
"Skirmishers out!" the order was
given, and away a lot of US dashed to
the front.
That's enough! that's enough; come
back, lot of you!'
Only a few of the men went back.
The rest started off at the double
quick. We were glad of a bit of elbow
room and a bit of excitement. Painting
and exhausted, we pushed on. The
sand threw up the hot glare of the sun
into our faces. | shut my eyes, for the
pain was terrible.
One of the men shouted "Hurrah!'
We thought him a laundering idiot
wasting his breath.
Hold up a btu shrieked the officer
who came with us.
We were about 800 PAGES in front
of the square, and we could hear the
hoarse commands. the mad clatter, the
screaming camels, and away in front
of US rose the yells of the fanatical
Sudanese calling on Allah to help in the
Staying of the infidels.
There was a strange stiffness where
we were, and the singing of the enemy
and the shouting of our men and the
pinging of the guns up the rocks only
marked the stiffness.
I could hear the hard breathing of
little Jenkins. who was not more than
five PAGES from me.
Blown" l asked.
Rather" he answered. g wish
those beggars would come out and let
US ave a pop at en-"
looked al him. He was sprawling