obody knew the country and nobody spared man or
horse. There was unending cavalry scouting and almost unending forced
work over broken ground. The Army of the South had finally pierced the
centre of the Army of the North, and was pouring through the gap
hot-foot to capture a city of strategic importance. Its front extended
fanwise, the sticks being represented by regiments strung out along
the line of route backwards to the divisional transport columns and
all the lumber that trails behind an army on the move. On its right
the broken left of the Army of the North was flying in mass, chased by
the Southern horse and hammered by the Southern guns till these had
been pushed far beyond the limits of their last support. Then the
flying sat down to rest, while the elated commandant of the pursuing
force telegraphed that he held all in check and observation.

Unluckily he did not observe that three miles to his right flank a
flying column of Northern horse with a detachment of Gurkhas and
British troops had been pushed round, as fast as the failing light
allowed, to cut across the entire rear of the Southern Army, to break,
as it were, all the ribs of the fan where they converged by striking
at the transport, reserve ammunition, and artillery supplies. Their
instructions were to go in, avoiding the few scouts who might not have
been drawn off by the pursuit, and create sufficient excitement to
impress the Southern Army with the wisdom of guarding their own flank
and rear before they captured cities. It was a pretty manoeuvre,
neatly carried out.

Speaking for the second division of the Southern Army, our first
intimation of the attack was at twilight, when the artillery were
labouring in deep sand, most of the escort were trying to help them
out, and the main body of the infantry had gone on. A Noah's Ark of
elephants, camels, and the mixed menagerie of an Indian transport
train bubbled and squealed behind the guns, when there appeared from
nowhere in particular British infantry to the extent of three
companies, who sprang to the heads of the gun-horses and brought all
to a standstill amid oaths and cheers.

'How's that, umpire?' said the Major commanding the attack, and with
one voice the drivers and limber gunners answered 'Hout!' while the
Colonel of Artillery sputtered.

'All your scouts are charging our main body,' said the Major. 'Your
flanks are unprotected for two miles. I think we've broken the back of
this divis