orse with
one hand, and brandishing his sword with the other. I could not get
the frightened animal near enough to use my sword, and my pistol (a
Deane and Adams revolver), with which I tried to shoot my opponent,
refused to go off, so I felt myself pretty well at his mercy, when, to
my relief, I saw him fall, having been run through the body by a man
of the 9th Lancers who had come to my rescue.

Being unable to find the Brigadier, I attached myself to the next
senior officer, Major Frank Turner, who commanded the Artillery.
Gradually the enemy were beaten off, and the troops formed themselves
up ready for pursuit, or whatever they might be called upon to do. At
this juncture Greathed appeared on the ground.

With less experienced troops the surprise--and a thorough surprise it
was--would in all probability have had serious results. Most of the
men were asleep under the few tents which had already arrived, or such
shelter as could be obtained near at hand, when first one round shot,
then another, came right into their midst from a battery concealed
in the high crops to our right front. At the same time half a dozen
rebels, one of them playing the _nagara_,[9] rode quietly up to the
Quarter-Guard of the 9th Lancers and cut down the sentry. Being
dressed, like Probyn's men, in red, they were mistaken for them, and
were thus enabled to get close to the guard. This act was quickly
followed by a general rush of the enemy's Cavalry, which brought about
the series of fights that were going on when we appeared on the scene.
The Commander was not to be found; no one knew who was the senior
officer present; consequently each regiment and battery had to act
according to its own discretion. The troops got ready with incredible
rapidity, and set to work to drive the enemy off the ground. The
Artillery replied to the insurgents' guns; the Infantry did what they
could, but were hampered by the fear of doing more injury to their
friends than their foes, and thus the brunt of the work fell upon the
Cavalry. The 9th Lancers made a succession of brilliant charges. One
troop especially distinguished itself by recovering Blunt's captured
gun; the Captain (French) was killed, and the subaltern (Jones),
covered with wounds, was left on the ground for dead. Watson, Probyn,
and Younghusband, with their three squadrons, cleared our right flank,
capturing two guns and some standards; and Hugh Gough, with his
squadron, performed a similar duty