dismounted portion of the Brigade therefore naturally suffered more in proportion to ourselves, and as they droopingly dragged themselves along the line of march, and struggled on with the hardships of their lot, they looked sun-dried, ghastly, and like ghosts, while a large number among them presented a pitiful appearance, with blood trickling down their sun-cracked cheeks and blistered noses.
But who among us cared to growl at exposure or hardship in those days, when we knew that all over Upper India tens of thousands of England’s “war-dogs” were having their day like ourselves, and undergoing a similar process of roasting?
So, while dogging like bloodhounds the track of the rebels, they suddenly doubled round to Amorah once more, and made a stand there, on the same memorable battle-field, where they had already received so many fatal blows. And on our approaching the locality, we beheld literally an army of vultures settled down on the blood-stained plains on which we had fought so often, and so fat and unwieldy had they become on the flesh of rebels, that not one among their countless numbers seemed disposed to quit the scene of their festivities, or move out of our way as we positively rode through them, amidst shocking sights which, in compassion to the feelings of my readers, I pass over in silence.
On June 9th, when morning dawned after a night almost as hot as day, the dropping of long shots and the distant reports of muskets warned us to prepare for
