Sharpe's Fortress
““Can't do it in a week!” the engineer grumbled.
“Man's mad! Expects miracles. Jacob's ladder, that's what he wants.” He cast a morbid eye over Sharpe's bullocks, all of them prime Mysore beasts with brightly painted horns from which tassels and small bells hung.
“Never did like working with oxen,” Elliott complained.
“Bring any elephants?”
“I can ask for them, sir.”
“Nothing like an elephant. Right, Sharpe, load the beasts with small stones and keep following the track till ...you catch up with me. Got that?”
Elliott hauled himself onto his horse and settled his feet in the stirrups.
“Bloody miracles, that's what he wants,” the Major growled, then spurred onto the track.
“Elliott!” Major Simons, who commanded the half-battalion of sepoys who guarded the pioneers building the road, called in alarm.MoreLess
“Man's mad! Expects miracles. Jacob's ladder, that's what he wants.” He cast a morbid eye over Sharpe's bullocks, all of them prime Mysore beasts with brightly painted horns from which tassels and small bells hung.
“Never did like working with oxen,” Elliott complained.
“Bring any elephants?”
“I can ask for them, sir.”
“Nothing like an elephant. Right, Sharpe, load the beasts with small stones and keep following the track till ...you catch up with me. Got that?”
Elliott hauled himself onto his horse and settled his feet in the stirrups.
“Bloody miracles, that's what he wants,” the Major growled, then spurred onto the track.
“Elliott!” Major Simons, who commanded the half-battalion of sepoys who guarded the pioneers building the road, called in alarm.MoreLess
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