"The old man’s wasting daylight with a vengeance," he said to me, but had hardly spoken before young Ponsonby came running up—"From the Captain, sir; you’re to carry on."
As I hurried past the Skipper, he sang out, "Drive those fellows off that hill!"—pointing with his big stick. "Travers will go with you, and I’ll send a Maxim along after you, and am coming on directly."
"Very good, sir," and I saluted and went off to tell my men what we had to do, and sang out to Travers, "Come along, old ’B.-T.’, bring your people along."
[Illustration: U.S.S. Omaha and H.M.S. Ringdove shelling Hector Island.]
Old B.-T. Wins—A Hard Retreat—A Case of Speed—A Race against the Fog—Hand-to-hand Fighting—Captain Marshall is Wounded—The Captain’s Life Attempted—Round the Fire—Ford is Indignant—On Board Again
_Written by Captain Marshall, Royal Marine Light Infantry_
Old "B.-T." and I extended our people, ran down towards the paddy fields, crawled and dodged across them, and prepared for the "do-or-die business" up the farther slope.
It was a bit of a rush, and old "B.-T." looked "bored" when we met again at the top. The blighters had never given us a show, but had cleared out, pretty well most of them. A few had run into "B.-T.’s" little lot by accident, and been polished off, that was all.
I don’t suppose that they were expecting us to go at ’em so soon.
The Maxim came along after us, and we helped Langham up with it, and spread ourselves out, to cover the retreat of the Skipper with the main body, which came along almost immediately in a long line, slowly trailing down the side of the hill from the house. We could see that they were carrying the wounded, and they had got halfway across the paddy fields before the Chinese seemed to "tumble" to the fact that we were clearing out, and began to pour back from the outskirts of the town and open fire at them.
"B.-T." and I managed to keep them in check, and the Skipper got across without any casualties, "Blucher" coming galloping up the hill, wagging his long whip of a tail when he spotted me.
But by this time a number of Chinese had crept along behind the banks intersecting the paddy fields, and we couldn’t get at them with rifle fire. They were right in between us and the walled house, cutting off Parkinson’s retreat.