It is as much as I can do to describe
what took place immediately around me.
By this time the dense masses of the enemy's left, composed almost
entirely of Nasta's swordsmen, were across the little stream,
and with alternate yells of 'Nasta' and 'Sorais', with dancing
banners and gleaming swords, were swarming up towards us like
ants.
Again I received orders to try and check this movement, and also
the main advance against the chest of our army, by means of cavalry
charges, and this I did to the best of my ability, by continually
sending squadrons of about a thousand sabres out against them.
These squadrons did the enemy much damage, and it was a glorious
sight to see them flash down the hillside, and bury themselves
like a living knife in the heart of the foe. But, also, we lost
many men, for after the experience of a couple of these charges,
which had drawn a sort of bloody St Andrew's cross of dead and
dying through the centre of Nasta's host, our foes no longer
attempted to offer an unyielding front to their irresistible
weight, but opened out to let the rush go through, throwing themselves
on the ground and hamstringing hundreds of horses as they passed.
And so, notwithstanding all that we could do, the enemy drew
nearer, till at last he hurled himself upon Good's force of seven
thousand five hundred regulars, who were drawn up to receive
them in three strong squares.
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