"Wait!" Maxwell said. "Listen!" From the bottom of a shallow valley, they heard the shrill notes of a British trumpet sounding the charge, echoing in the terrible silence. The sound raised the small hairs on the back of Jack"s head. "Get to higher ground," Maxwell ordered, "we must see what"s happening."
"Follow me, men," Jack ordered. "Get up to the crest there."
There was a single spur of the Fedioukine Hills protruding southward, a hundred yards from where they stood. They scrambled up, swearing as they heard the trumpet sound again and again and the distinct drum-beat of hundreds of horses" hooves on the ground.
"There! Look, oh God, look!" Riley pointed.
The angle of the hills gave them only a partial view, sufficient to see the British Heavy Brigade charging uphill from the South
