So deadly was
the rain of iron and lead that the Mahratta horsemen instantly drew
bridle and, leaving the ground strewn with their dead, galloped back.
By this time the infantry, covered by the fire of their artillery, had
reached the stream. This was waist deep, and the banks were some two
feet above its level. As they scrambled up after crossing it, from the
line of embankment in front of them a tremendous fire was opened.
Although mowed down in scores, the seasoned warriors of the Mahratta
chief, cheered on by his voice as, recklessly exposing himself, he
rode among them, pressed forward. Ever increasing numbers gained a
footing across the stream, those in front keeping up a heavy fire at
the breastwork, whose face was ploughed by their cannon shot.
As they advanced the guns of the castle opened fire, not upon those in
front, for these were too near the line of entrenchment, but upon the
struggling mass still crossing the stream, into which a ceaseless fire
of musketry was poured from the slopes on their flanks. Still the
Mahratta infantry struggled bravely on, until within a few yards of
the entrenchments. Then, suddenly, with a mighty shout, the rajah's
troops leaped to their feet, poured a volley from the crest of the
breastwork into the enemy; and then, with fixed bayonets, flung
themselves upon them.
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