That was enough for Major Atherton.
Towards that spot he waved on his men, and ordered his bugler to sound a rousing signal.

The bugler obeyed, and fell at the major's side before the note had well ceased! The struggle round the guns increased and blackened.

One after another the British helmets went down, and the wild shouts of the Afghans rose triumphantly above them.
At length Atherton saw a tall figure, bareheaded and black with smoke, spring upon a gun-carriage, and with the butt end of a carbine fell two or three of the enemy who scrambled up to dislodge him.
Atherton knew that form among a thousand, and he knew too that Forrester was making his last stand.
"Cheer, men, and come on!" cried he to his men, rising in his stirrups and leading the shout.
The head of the column, just then emerging from the gorge, heard that shout, and answered it with a bugle flourish, as they fixed bayonets and rushed forward to charge.

At the same moment, a cheer and the boom of a gun on the left proclaimed that the other half of the column had at that moment reached the plain, and were also bearing down on the enemy's flank.
But Atherton saw and heeded nothing but that tall heroic figure on the carriage.

At the first sound of the troopers' shout Forrester had turned his head, smiling, and raised his carbine aloft, as though to wave answer to the cheer.