simultaneously as if they had moved by machinery.
The rebel sharpshooters, too, appeared active, for as we looked up at them we could see hundreds more venturesome than others sally out rifle in hand, advance some distance in front, and with long, sustained aim, fire. They were, however, indifferent marksmen, inasmuch as, with the exception of a few bullets whizzing harmlessly past our ears, all their shots fell short.
A bird’s-eye glance having been cast over the fortress and its environs, amid savage yells mingled with foul execrations poured out upon us by the villains, we retraced our steps to Amorah; and about halfway between that village and the rebel stronghold just reconnoitred, we met our camp equipage and followers en route to join us. And this circumstance was exhilarating to all spirits; it was in fact, as it were, the “friendly precursor” of the Field Force, and indicated the arrival of succour within hailing distance at last so that whatever might now follow, incidental to the recent passage-of-arms before the fort, we had its support, as well as our own good sabres to trust to.
A word here about Belwa may not be without some interest to the reader, though I sketch the features of the whole place merely in outline; for living as we were in the saddle, with graves always open at our feet, and grappling with a rebellion in which human blood was flowing like water, we were in no mood to notice in detail the general aspect of any place or scenery.
Belwa, then, is a village situated on the confines of
