We crawled along — marching it could not be called — in a darkness that could almost be felt; and oft and anon, in the dead silence that prevailed in our ranks, an irritable mutter was all that could be heard. Now, without troubling to inquire what this “irritable mutter” suggested, there can be no doubt that some irritation in the Corps would seem natural enough, when it is remembered that for months and months we had been undergoing no ordinary torture from burning heat, and eking out an existence similar to that in which vermin, and reptiles are wont to thrive. And yet, although the neck of the rebellion had been dislocated by the fall of Luknow, our interminable troubles seemed still as dark as the night through which we were journeying.
To say that during this expedition we resembled half-starved brigands, is to suggest our appearance while living as best we could on the wing, like swallows, and on such food as astonished our stomachs. And as to our gallant and generous horses, poor brutes! they sobbed and hung their heads, and in their worn and wasted frames, they looked wretchedly gaunt, and as if on their “last legs” from the toil and torture of their daily life.
However, onwards to the “Devils” was the cry; so following our noses, and groping our way along the black and lonely road, we crawled slowly on and on, as savage and irritable as the present state of affairs had rendered us.
