ok the already shaken nerves of the Fore and
Aft. All the courage that they had been required to exercise up to
this point was the 'two o'clock in the morning courage'; and, so far,
they had only succeeded in shooting their comrades and losing their
sleep.

Sullen, discontented, cold, savage, sick, with their uniforms dulled
and unclean, the Fore and Aft joined their Brigade.

'I hear you had a tough time of it coming up,' said the Brigadier. But
when he saw the hospital-sheets his face fell.

'This is bad,' said he to himself. 'They're as rotten as sheep.' And
aloud to the Colonel--'I'm afraid we can't spare you just yet. We want
all we have, else I should have given you ten days to recover in.'

The Colonel winced. 'On my honour, Sir,' he returned, 'there is not
the least necessity to think of sparing us. My men have been rather
mauled and upset without a fair return. They only want to go in
somewhere where they can see what's before them.'

'Can't say I think much of the Fore and Fit,' said the Brigadier in
confidence to his Brigade-Major. 'They've lost all their soldiering,
and, by the trim of them, might have marched through the country from
the other side. A more fagged-out set of men I never put eyes on.'

'Oh, they'll improve as the work goes on. The parade gloss has been
rubbed off a little, but they'll put on field polish before long,'
said the Brigade-Major. 'They've been mauled, and they don't quite
understand it.'

They did not. All the hitting was on one side, and it was cruelly hard
hitting with accessories that made them sick. There was also the real
sickness that laid hold of a strong man and dragged him howling to the
grave. Worst of all, their officers knew just as little of the country
as the men themselves, and looked as if they did. The Fore and Aft
were in a thoroughly unsatisfactory condition, but they believed that
all would be well if they could once get a fair go-in at the enemy.
Pot-shots up and down the valleys were unsatisfactory, and the bayonet
never seemed to get a chance. Perhaps it was as well, for a
long-limbed Afghan with a knife had a reach of eight feet, and could
carry away lead that would disable three Englishmen.

The Fore and Fit would like some rifle-practice at the enemy--all
seven hundred rifles blazing together. That wish showed the mood of
the men.

The Gurkhas walked into their camp, and in broken, barrack-room
English strove to fraternise with them; offered th