shall hold it, is another question; for,
though there's a slack, we haven't done with sharp work yet, I
can see.

"How often we've talked, years ago, of what it must feel like
going into battle! Well, the chief thing I felt when the grape
came down pretty thick for the first time, as we were advancing,
was a sort of gripes in the stomach which made me want to go
forward stooping. But I didn't give in to it; the chief was
riding close behind us, joking the youngsters who were ducking
their heads, and so cheery and cool, that he made old soldiers of
us at once. What with smoke, and dust, and excitement, you know
scarcely anything of what is going on. The finest sight I have
seen is the artillery going into action. Nothing stops those
fellows. Places you would crane at out hunting they go right
over, guns, carriages, men, and all, leaving any cavalry we've
got out here well behind. Do you know what a nullah is? Well,
it's a great gap, like a huge dry canal, fifteen or twenty feet
deep. We were halted behind one in the last great fight, awaiting
the order to advance, when a battery came up at full gallop. We
all made sure they must be pulled up the nullah. They never
pulled bridle. 'Leading gun, right turn!' sang out the subaltern;
and down they went sideways into the nullah. Then, 'Left turn;'
up the other bank, one gun after another, the horses scrambling
like cats up and down places that my men had to use their hands
to scramble up, and away on the other side to within 200 yards of
the enemy; and then, round like lightning, and look out in front.

"Altogether, it's sickening work, though there's a grand sort of
feeling of carrying your life in your hand. They say the Sepoy
regiments have behaved shamefully. There is no sign of anything
like funk among our fellows that I have seen. Sergeant Winburn
has distinguished himself everywhere. He is like my shadow, and I
can see he tries to watch over my precious carcase, and get
between me and danger. He would be a deal more missed in the
world than I. Except you, old friend, I don't know who would care
much if I were knocked over to-morrow. Aunts and cousins are my
nearest relations. You know I never was a snuffler; but this sort
of life makes one serious, if one has any reverence at all in
one. You'll be glad to have this line, if you don't hear from me
again. I've often thought in the last month that we shall never
see one another again in this world. But, whether in this