e plain, where there was a deserted village, the hollow being
surrounded by banks covered with thickets which, it was supposed,
would conceal our presence from the enemy. The troops by this time
being quite worn out, Colonel Clive gave them leave to lay down their
arms and repose themselves, and so eagerly was the permission availed
of that not a single sentinel was posted to give notice of the enemy's
approach.

I was with Mr. Clive himself, who had allowed me to accompany him as a
sort of military secretary, Mr. Scrafton not being a soldier. We lay
down side by side, and I for one had no sooner closed my eyes than I
fell asleep. But the very next moment, as it seemed to me, I awoke
with a start, to the sound of a battle going on around me.

I sprang to my feet and took in the whole scene. A whole Indian army
appeared to have surrounded the sleeping camp. The banks of the hollow
were lined with swarthy troops, armed with matchlocks, from which they
poured a steady fire upon our bewildered men, just roused from
slumber, and groping in confusion after their arms. On an eminence a
short way behind I espied an officer, whom I took to be Monichund
himself, seated on an elephant, issuing orders to his troops. Our two
field-pieces stood deserted in the way of the enemy, who advanced to
take them, while the terrified artillerymen ran for shelter among the
troops of the line. Our position looked desperate, and I turned
anxiously to Colonel Clive to see what he would do.

Mr. Clive had sprung to his feet at the same moment with myself. For a
moment he stood in an attitude of stern attention, his hands clenched,
his lips compressed, and his eyes darting from point to point over the
field. The next instant his voice rang out like the sound of a
trumpet.

"Steady! Form in line! Face this way! Captain Campbell, form your men
on the right. Captain Coote, take yours to the left. Where is
Kilpatrick?"

He sprang forward among the disordered troops, rattling out commands
and words of encouragement, and infusing a new spirit into them by his
very presence and the air of cool resolution with which he moved and
spoke. Like magic the little force disposed itself under his orders,
and began to return the enemy's fire. Astonished by this sudden
transformation, the Moors halted in their attack, and seemed contented
to hold the rest of the ridge. Colonel Clive instantly detected their
hesitation, drew up two small detachments opposite the