party.

"There are uniforms enough, too, to fit us all out," said Simkin, as
they were about to leave the scene of slaughter.

"No dead men's clo'es for me," said Moses Pyne, with a shrug of disgust.

Jack Molloy declared that he had become so used to loose cotton drawers,
and an easy-fittin' sack, that for his part he had no desire to go back
to civilised costume! and as the rest were of much the same opinion, no
change was made in the habiliments of the party, except that each
appropriated a pair of boots, and Miles exchanged his green tippet for a
flannel shirt and a pith helmet. He also took a revolver, with some
difficulty, from the dead hand of a soldier, and stuck it in his belt.

Thus improved in circumstances, they gladly quitted the ghastly scene,
and made for a bushy hillock a few hundred yards in advance.

On the way they were arrested by the sound of distant firing.

"Mohammed must have met our countrymen!" exclaimed Molloy, with excited
looks, as they halted to listen.

"It may be so, but there are other bands about besides his," said Miles.
"What's that? a cheer?"

"Ay, a British cheer in the far distance, replied to by yells of
defiance." Molloy echoed the cheer in spite of his better judgment.

"Let's run an' jine 'em!" he exclaimed.

"Come along, then!" cried Miles, with the ardour of inexperienced youth.

"Stop! are ye mad?" cried Stevenson. "Don't it stand to reason that the
enemy must be between us an' Suakim? and that's the same as sayin'
they're between us an' our friends. Moreover, the cheerin' proves that
our side must be gettin' the best of it, an' are drivin' the enemy this
way, so all we've got to do is to hide on that hillock an' bide our
time."

"Right you are, comrade," cried Rattling Bill, examining his cartridges,
and asserting with an oath that nothing would afford him greater
pleasure than a good hand-to-hand fight with the black, (and something
worse), scoundrels.

"Don't swear at your enemies, Simkin," said the marine quietly; "but
when you get the chance fire low!"

Agreeing with Stevenson's advice to "bide their time," the little band
was soon on the top of the hillock, and took up the best position for
defending the place, also for observing the fight, which, they could now
see, was drawing gradually nearer to them.

They were not kept waiting long, for the natives were in full flight,
hotly pursued by the English and Indian cavalry. A slight breeze
blowing