Duncan, ahoy!"

It was a distant hail from high up on the track.

"Heaven be praised!" cried my father, and then he shouted, "Chowne,
ahoy!"

There was an answering hail, and in five minutes more Doctor Chowne came
scrambling down the side of the ravine upon his pony, with Bob hanging
on to its tail.

"My dear boy!" exclaimed the doctor, grasping my father's hand. "We
heard the guns, and could make out the lights of a big vessel off here.
I was afraid that something was wrong, and going up the hill yonder I
could see the glow in the sky. That decided me, and we came over
together. Anybody hurt?"

"Well, yes, a little," said my father grimly.

As he spoke the first grey dawn of morning was beginning to show in the
valley and mingle strangely with the glow of the big fire and of the
sickly flickering gleam above the burned-out cottages.

It was a doleful sight upon which the doctor gazed round as he stripped
off his coat. My father, blackened, scorched, and blood-stained, was
standing with the foreman, six men were sitting or half reclining on the
ground, and four more lay on their backs as if insensible.

It was a ghastly answer to the question, "Is anybody hurt?" for there
was no one without a serious wound.

"Ah! I see," said the doctor grimly. "Well, is anybody killed?"

"Heaven forbid!" cried my father.

"Amen," said the doctor. "Here, Bob, bandages, scissors. Fine lesson
in surgery for you. Now, captain, you first."

"No, no--the men," said my father.

"Here, I've no time to waste," cried the doctor. "Now, then, who's
worst?"

"Mas'r Sep," cried the foreman loudly; and there was a sort of chorus of
"Ay, ay!"

I tried to protest, but I felt sick, and as if I should faint, and the
doctor cried:

"Hold your tongue, sir. Now then, what is it--bullet or sword cut?"

"Oh!" I shrieked, for he had seized me rather roughly.

"There, eh?" said the doctor, "that's it, is it? Here, knife, Bob."

"What is it?" said my father excitedly; "an operation?"

"Yes," said Doctor Chowne, "on his coat. Only going to rip it off, man.
What a fuss you do make about your boy!"

"But tell me, Chowne," cried my father, "is he badly hurt?"

"Badly hurt? No. A few ribs broken seemingly. I'll soon bandage him
up."

He did, and very painful it was; but at the same time it seemed to give
me strength and confidence, as he wound the stout bandage round and
round and left Bob grinning at me as he fastened