“I got one, fer keeps, any’ow,” said Horace in the silence that followed the brief racket; “I see ’im drop ‘is knife an’ fall back’ards....”

Perfect silence—­and then ... bang ... and a man standing beside Horace grunted, coughed, and scuffled on the ground.

“Get down!  Get down!  You fools,” cried Horace, who was himself standing up.  “Wha’s the good of a square sungar if you stands up in it?  All magazines charged?  It’s magazine-fire if there’s a rush."....

Silence.

“Fire at the next flash, all of yer,” he said, “an’ look out fer a rush.”  Adding, “Bli’ me—­’ark at ’em dahn below,” as a burst of fire and a pandemonium of yells broke out.

A yellow glare lit the scene, flickered on the sky, and even gave sufficient light to the picket on the hill-top to see a wave of wild, white-clad, knife-brandishing figures surge over the edge of the hill and bear down upon them, to be joined, as they passed, by those who had sunk behind stones at the picket’s first fire.

“Stiddy,” shrilled Horace.  “Aim stiddy at the b——­s. Fire,” and again the charging line vanished.

“Gone to earf,” observed Horace in the silence.  “Nah look aht for flashes an’ shoot at ’em....”

Bang! and Horace lost a thumb and a portion of his left cheek, which was in line with his left thumb as he sighted his rifle.

Before putting his left hand into his mouth he said, a little unsteadily:—­

“If I’m knocked aht you go on shootin’ at flashes and do magazine-fire fer rushes.  If they gets in ’ere, we’re tripe in two ticks.”

Then he fainted for a while, came to, and felt much better.  “Goo’ job it’s the left fumb,” he observed as he strove to re-charge his magazine.  The dull thud of bullet into flesh became a frequent sound.  The last observation that Horace made to the remnant of his men was:—­

“Bli’ me! they’re all rahnd us now—­like flies rahnd a fish-barrer.  Dam’ swine!...”

* * * * *

Firing steadily at the advancing mobs the street-end pickets retired on the Prison and were admitted as the surging crowds amalgamated, surrounded the walls, and opened a desultory fire at the loopholes and such of the defenders as fired over the coping from ladders.

One detachment, with some show of military discipline and uniform, arrayed itself opposite the gate and a couple of hundred yards from it, lining the ditch of the road, and utilizing the cover and shadow of the trees.  Suddenly a large party, mainly composed of Mahsuds, and headed by a very big powerful man, made a swift rush to the gate, each man bearing a bundle of faggots or a load of cut brushwood, save two or three who bore vessels of kerosene oil.  With reckless courage and daring, they ran the gauntlet of the loopholes and the fire from the wall-top, piled their combustibles against the wooden gate, poured gallons of kerosene over the heap, set fire to it, and fled.