There was no need. When the dust cloud cleared, one mule
which had broken loose was galloping madly across country, the rest were
down and dead.
The gun, dismounted, was half buried in a pile of shale which lay feet
deep across the road. Of the men, not one remained. Most were not only
dead, but buried. Two only lay clear, and to all appearance they were as
dead as their companions.
Roy looked at Ken.
'What you might call a clean bit of work,' he said, but though he tried to
smile, there was something like awe in his voice.
'Yes. A ten-inch shell could hardly have done more,' Ken answered. 'Poor
beggars! It's rather ghastly wiping 'em out like that, but one has got to
remember that that gun would have probably finished ten times the number
of our chaps if they'd got it into position.
'We'd better go down,' he added. 'We may find a couple of rifles, and I'll
lay we shall need them before we reach our own lines.'
It was an awkward job to get down the bank, for the shale was so loose it
kept breaking away under their feet.
Pages:
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150