e have just stewed it with a slice from Tim
Drury, and bedad it's first-rate! Tim tastes for all the world like
fresh pork"; and with that Andy picked out a piece of the sheep's liver
on the prongs of his fork, and offered it to Charley as part of Tim
Drury, at the same time requesting him not to mention the circumstance
to any one. This was too much for the Camel's stomach. He plainly
believed Andy, and turned away, as if he would be sick. However, he
recovered himself, and replied: "No, thank you; hungry as I am, it shall
never be in the power of any one to tell my auld mither in the Grass
Market o' Edinboro' that her Charley had become a cannibal! But if you
can spare me a drop of the beer I'll be thankful for it, for the sight
of your stew has made me feel unco' queer." We expressed our sorrow that
the beer was all drunk before we had seen Charley performing his oblique
advance, and Andy again pressed him to partake of a little of the stew;
but Charley refused to join, and sitting down in a sheltered spot in the
corner of our roofless mud-hut, made wry faces at the relish evinced by
the rest of us over our savoury stew. The Camel eventually discovered
that he had been made a fool of, and he never forgave us for cheating
him out of a share of the savoury mess.

CHAPTER XII

ASSAULT ON THE BEGUM'S KOTHEE--DEATH OF CAPTAIN M'DONALD--MAJOR HODSON
WOUNDED--HIS DEATH

We had barely finished our meal when we noticed a stir among the
staff-officers, and a consultation taking place between General Sir
Edward Lugard, Brigadier Adrian Hope, and Colonel Napier. Suddenly the
order was given to the Ninety-Third to fall in. This was quietly done,
the officers taking their places, the men tightening their belts and
pressing their bonnets firmly on their heads, loosening the ammunition
in their pouches, and seeing that the springs of their bayonets held
tight. Thus we stood for a few seconds, when Brigadier Hope passed the
signal for the assault on the Begum's Kothee. Just before the signal was
given two men from the Fifty-Third rushed up to us with a soda-water
bottle full of grog. One of them was Lance-Corporal Robert Clary, who is
at present, I believe, police-sergeant in the Municipal Market,
Calcutta; the other was the friend of Andrew M'Onvill, who had supplied
us with the steaks for our "cannibal feast." I may mention that
Lance-Corporal Clary was the same man who led the party of the
Fifty-Third to capture the gun