Stockton Herald, South Durham and Cleveland Advertiser. — 1879-07-05 (Stockton-on-Tees, Cleveland, England)

INCIDENT IN THE INDIAN MUTINY.  A FIGHT FOR LIFE. The enemy proceeded to the artillery lines, and when Lieutenant James Hills, who was in charge of the two horse artillery guns of the picket, saw their advance, he set to work with a will to bring his guns into action. But there was not time, and in a moment he was surrounded. It was of the utmost importance that his guns should be in readiness, and the only way to gain time was to create a diversion. Hills was a young man, and by no-means of a powerful build, but he had dauntless ()image and a determined will. Setting spurs to his horse, he dashed into the midst of the enemy, slashing out with superhuman energy and surprising effect. Presently he came into violent collision with a couple of Bowers at the same moment, and horse and rider were thrown violently to the ground by the force of the collisi n. But he sprang to his feet, caught up his sword, and was in time to defend himself from the murderous attack of two mounted troopers and one Sowar on foot. Breathless as he was from his recent labours and violent shock, he struck out with inch effect that he overcame the mounted men—killing one and severely wounding the other. But the man on foot was a match for him; strong, lithe, and fresh for his work, it seemed that he must gain the mastery. The day was wet, and when Hills dashed off on his perilous attack he had not removed his heavy riding cloak, which now dragged at his throat, almost choking him, and otherwise impeding his action. He tried twice to fire at his assailant, but the ristol snapped; he made a desperate lunge with his sword, but his arm being caught by the cloak, the blow missed, and taking advantage of the position, the rebel with great dexterity snatched the sword fom him. Disarmed, and almost exhausted, the position of Hills was critical in the extreme; happily, however, he knew how to use the weapons which are natural to Englishmen, and with his fists he smote out ruthlessly, but in the struggle his foot slipped and he fell to the ground. Just at that moment, when death seemed inevitable, Major Tombs, "a man of noble presence, tall, strong, of robust frame and handsome countenance, dark-haired, dark-bearded, and of swart complexion "—Major Tombs, the captain of his:troop, ascended the mound and looked abroad. Strange scenes met his eye, for he had been called suddenly from the genial shelter of the mess-tent, but the sight that instantly arrested him was that of his friend Hills, prostrate, entangled in his cloak, and the arm of his assailant in the air ready to deliver his death blow. Thirty paces separated him from the young subaltern, who would be dead before he 'could reach him. Placing, therefore, his revolver on his left arm to steady it, he took aim at the enemy. whose face was towards him, and ere the threatened blow could fall the rebel had fallen dead, the life-blood oozing through his white tunic. Tombs only tarried until he had Eeen the effect of his shot, and then ran forward to the help of Hills, who was entangled in his cloak. When the two stood together on the mound Hills was mortified to see a Sower making off with his revolver, which he had dropped in the struggle. But he was not the man to witness such an act and take no steps to regain his own. At once he made towards the Sower, a powerful trooper, and Tombs followed him. The trooper, brought to bay, fought with desperation. Hills parried his first blow, Tombs parried the second, then, goaded to madness, he sprang like a tiger upon Hills, broke down his guard, and "clove his skull to the brain," though not mortally wounding him. Tombs was ready for the next attack; the deadly blow was aimed at him, but, cool and collected, he ran the assailant clean through the body.—Prom "Heroes of Britain in Peace and War," for July.