ainly that he was being cut off from his
regiment by another body of the enemy.

"I couldn't help it," he said. "I couldn't leave that poor fellow
behind."

He had hardly uttered this thought when, apparently from just beyond the
rugged mass of stone which had checked his descent, there came a low
groan, followed by a few words, amongst which the listener made out,
"The cowards!"

"That you, Punch?" whispered the young rifleman excitedly.

"Eh, who's that?" was the faint reply.

"Hist! Lie still. I'll try and get to you directly."

"That you, Private Gray?"

"Yes, yes," was whispered back, and the speaker felt his heart leap
within his breast; "but lie still for a few moments."

"Oh, do come! I'm--I've got it bad."

The young private felt his heart sink again as he recalled the way in
which the boy had staggered and fallen from the edge of the track above
him. Then, in answer to the appeal for help, he passed his rifle over
his body, and, wrenching himself round, he managed to lower himself
beyond the mass of rock so as to get beneath and obtain its shelter from
those passing along the ledge, but only to slip suddenly for a yard or
two, with the result that the shrubs over which he had passed sprang up
again and supplied the shelter which he sought.

"Punch! Punch! Where are you?" he whispered, as, satisfied now that he
could not be seen from above, he raised his head a little and tried to
make out him whom he sought.

But all was perfectly still about where he lay, while the sound of
musketry came rolling and echoing along the narrow ravine; and above the
trees, in the direction in which his friends must be, there was a rising
and ever-thickening cloud of smoke.

Then for a few minutes the firing ceased, and in the midst of the
intense silence there arose from the bushes just above the listener's
head a quick twittering of premonitory notes, followed by the sharp,
clear, ringing song of a bird, which thrilled the lad with a feeling of
hope in the midst of what the moment before had been a silence that was
awful.

Then from close at hand came a low, piteous groan, and a familiar voice
muttered, "The cowards--to leave a comrade like this!"

CHAPTER TWO.

POOR PUNCH.

Private Gray, of his Majesty's --th Rifles,--wrenched himself round once
more, pressed aside a clump of heathery growth, crawled quickly about a
couple of yards, and found himself lying face to face with the bugler of
his com