That is a human being, not a game bird. A moment later, Andrew heard a loud curse from the artillerymen.
That is a human being, not a game bird. “Something’s up,” Abernethy sounded worried. “The g*n’s stopped firing.”
Andrew looked round to see the artillerymen clustered around the seven-pounder, talking animatedly. The artillery sergeant ran to Chalmers, who nodded.
“The g*n will retire under Mr Cochrane and the escort!” Chalmers ordered.
“The b****y thing’s broken!” Hitchings shouted. “The Xhosas will run right over us!”
“Riflemen, hold the line!” Chalmers ordered as the seven-pounder began a slow withdrawal, with its escort keeping close to ensure the Galekas did not charge to capture the weapon.
“Keep firing, Bairdie!” Smith said, as calm as ever. “Hitchings is right. Once the en
