On reaching the summit, Cantillon sprang on the corporal's shoulders—Jones was a very powerful, athletic man—and stood upright. From this coign of vantage he gazed intently in the direction of the firing; while we watched him anxiously, fearing lest he should be shot by some lurking foe.
Presently Cantillon gave a shout, and jumping down, ran back at full speed, followed by Corporal Jones.
"They're close at hand," he cried as he came up to the square, "fighting like divils. We must go to their assistance, major, and join forces, if possible."
"Are they broken?" asked Vogelsang.
"Divil a bit, sir," was the reply; "but they're attacked on all sides by ten times their number, and the haythins who have been hammering at us are now having——"
"That's enough," interrupted the major; "it is plain there is no time to lose. Put the wounded on the limbers and waggons, and we will move at once."
We hastened to carry out the major's orders; but closer and closer drew the tide of battle, and ere we could put the square in motion, Macleod's little band of heroes appeared in sight. Alas! a fatal change had occurred. The division was no longer in solid order, as when seen by Cantillon, but broken up into small parties and groups, each fighting desperately against overwhelming numbers of Turkish cavalry and Albanian infantry.
To rush to their rescue was our first impulse; but Vogelsang restrained us, pointing out that we could not possibly render our brave comrades any effectual aid, and that once we broke our formation we should infallibly be cut to pieces. We did what little lay in our power, firing at the enemy whenever we could do so without injury to our own people; and a section of our company sallying out, at a critical moment, under Holroyd and Cantillon, succeeded in bringing Captain Mackay and a few of the 78th into the square.