Fortunately for us, we had made ourselves perfectly acquainted with the country the previous day, and instantly realized that escape by our right (as we faced Lucknow) was impossible, because of a huge impassable _jhil_.
There was another _jhil_ to our left front, but at some little distance off, and our only chance seemed to be in riding hard enough to get round the enemy's flank before they could get close enough to this _jhil_ to stop us.
Accordingly, we put spurs to our horses and galloped as fast as they could carry us to our left; the enemy turned in the same direction, and made for a village we must pass, and which we could see was already occupied.

The firing got hotter and more uncomfortable as we neared this village, the walls of which we skirted at our best possible pace.

We cleared the village, and hoped we had distanced the rebels, when suddenly we came upon a deep _nulla_.

Mayne got safely to the other side, but my horse stumbled and rolled over with me into the water at the bottom.

In the fall my hand was slightly cut by my sword, which I had drawn, thinking we might have to fight for our lives; the blood flowed freely, and made the reins so slippery when I tried to remount, that it was with considerable difficulty I got into the saddle.