for
turning-in at once and getting as long a sleep as I can. Good-night,
you chaps! Corporal Western, you'll have them three stripes this time
to-morrow if you do only half as well as you and your two mates did
to-day."

The stalwart sergeant laid his blanket on the ground, rolled himself in
it, and, placing his head on his haversack, was very soon in a deep
sleep, untroubled by the fact that to-morrow might be his last day on
earth.

As for Phil and Tony, they sat up an hour or more longer, chatting over
past events and the probabilities of the next day's fight, never
dreaming that it was destined to be on historical one, and one in which
the mettle of British troops was to be tested and found of the
staunchest, by as fierce a storm of shot and shell as ever assailed an
army.

CHAPTER TEN.

THE GLORIOUS ALMA.

The misty grey of early dawn lay over the smooth grassy slopes of the
Crimea when Phil and Tony turned over on the following morning and
looked about them. Here and there men were moving about like big
ghostly shadows as they trudged down to the banks of the River Bulganak
to fill their water-bottles and mess-tins in preparation for the morning
meal. Some were crouching over smoking fires, encouraging them to burn
up brightly and give out sufficient heat to cook the food. Close at
hand others were grooming officers' chargers, and on every side there
was the clatter of an awaking camp, the stamp of restive hoofs, cheery
calls from man to man, and the startling notes of reveille ringing out
clearly in the morning air, and warning all that another day had
arrived, and that it was time to throw off sleep and be ready to try
conclusions with the enemy.

"Lummy, ain't I sleepy just!" yawned Tony, throwing off his blanket and
sitting up to rub his eyes with his knuckles.

"I too could have done with a couple of hours more," answered Phil
peevishly. Then, springing to his feet, he shook the heavy dew from his
blanket and looked towards the river, the smooth and sluggish surface of
which had just caught the first rays of the rising sun.

"Who's for a dip?" he cried briskly. "Come along, Tony, boy; we shall
never wake up till we have douched ourselves with water."

"'Tain't a bad idea, Phil, and I'm with yer," exclaimed his friend,
shaking himself like a dog. "There ain't no towels, as I can see, so I
suppose it's a case of dry as best you can."

"Yes, of course. The sun will be up in another ten