Lancers leading the way, followed by Younghusband’s, Gough’s, and Probyn’s squadrons.  When within 300 yards of the fugitives, the ‘charge’ was sounded, and in a few seconds we were in their midst.  A regular melee ensued, a number of the rebels were killed, and seven guns captured in less than as many minutes.  The General now formed the Cavalry into a long line, and, placing himself at the head of his own regiment (the 9th Lancers), followed up the flying foe.  I rode a little to his left with Younghusband’s squadron, and next to him came Tyrrell Ross, the doctor.[2] As we galloped along, Younghusband drew my attention with great pride to the admirable manner in which his men kept their dressing.

On the line thundered, overtaking groups of the enemy, who every now and then turned and fired into us before they could be cut down, or knelt to receive us on their bayonets before discharging their muskets.  The chase continued for nearly five miles, until daylight began to fail and we appeared to have got to the end of the fugitives, when the order was given to wheel to the right and form up on the road.  Before, however, this movement could be carried out, we overtook a batch of mutineers, who faced about and fired into the squadron at close quarters.  I saw Younghusband fall, but I could not go to his assistance, as at that moment one of his sowars was in dire peril from a sepoy who was attacking him with his fixed bayonet, and had I not helped the man and disposed of his opponent, he must have been killed.  The next moment I descried in the distance two sepoys making off with a standard, which I determined must be captured, so I rode after the rebels and overtook them, and while wrenching the staff out of the hands of one of them, whom I cut down, the other put his musket close to my body and fired; fortunately for me it missed fire, and I carried off the standard.[3]

[Illustration:  Plan of the Engagement on the Banks of the KALI NADI at KHUDAGANJ January 2nd. 1858.]

Tyrrell Ross, attracted by a party of men in the rear of the squadron bending over the fallen Younghusband, now came up, and, to everyone’s great grief, pronounced the wound to be mortal.  From the day that I had annexed Younghusband’s pony at the siege of Delhi we had been so much together, and had become such fast friends, that it was a great shock to me to be told that never again would my gallant comrade lead the men in whom he took such soldierly pride.[4]

When the wounded had been attended to, we returned to camp, where we found Sir Colin waiting to welcome us, and we received quite an ovation from our comrades in the Infantry and Artillery.  We must have presented a curious spectacle as we rode back, almost every man carrying some trophy of the day, for the enemy had abandoned everything in their flight, and we found the road strewn with laden carts and palankins, arms, Native clothing, etc.  Our losses were surprisingly small—­only 10 men killed, and 30 men and 2 officers wounded.