Evening is drawing down.
The screw gun and it's crew are ready, at last. It may be just in time; in truth it's all we have for now.
Just beyond the range of our fire the enemy flit, black shadows in the dusky gloom. Would that more of the Highlanders were ready, but there was just not the time. Still if we hold out tonight, there may be hope for the morning.
We must hold to our courage and the Glen Moray.
LATER: Hist..! Hark..! Is that the sound of pipes?
LATER YET STILL: ...and the sound of a steamer?