CHAPTER XIV.
1857 A new appointment I will now continue my story from the 29th June, the morning after my arrival in camp, when I awoke full of excitement, and so eager to hear all my old friend Norman could tell me, that I am afraid he must have been considerably bored with my questions.
It is impossible for me to describe my pleasure at finding myself a member of a force which had already gained imperishable fame.

I longed to meet and know the men whose names were in everyone's mouth.

The hero of the day was Harry Tombs, of the Bengal Horse Artillery, an unusually handsome man and a thorough soldier.

His gallantry in the attack on the Idgah, and wherever he had been engaged, was the general talk of the camp.

I had always heard of Tombs as one of the best officers in the regiment, and it was with feelings of respectful admiration that I made his acquaintance a few days later.
Jemmy Hills,[1] one of the subalterns in Tombs's troop, was an old Addiscombe friend of mine; he delighted in talking of his Commander, in dilating on his merits as a soldier and his skill in handling each arm of the service.