In Times of Peril: A Tale of India
by G. A. Henty · English · Gutenberg #7071 · 611,990 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: In Times of Peril: A Tale of India
Author: G. A. Henty
Release date: December 1, 2004 [eBook #7071]
Most recently updated: June 1, 2012
Language: English
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Produced by Anne Soulard, Charles Franks and the Online
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IN TIMES OF PERIL
A TALE OF INDIA.
BY G. A. HENTY
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
Life in Cantonments
CHAPTER II.
The Outbreak
CHAPTER III.
The Flight
CHAPTER IV.
Broken Down
CHAPTER V.
Back Under the Flag
CHAPTER VI.
A Dashing Expedition
CHAPTER VII.
Delhi
CHAPTER VIII.
A Desperate Defense
CHAPTER IX.
Saved by a Tiger
CHAPTER X.
Treachery
CHAPTER XI.
Retribution Begins
CHAPTER XII.
Dangerous Service
CHAPTER XIII
Lucknow
CHAPTER XIV.
The Besieged Residency
CHAPTER XV.
Spiking the Guns
CHAPTER XVI.
A Sortie and its Consequences
CHAPTER XVII.
Out of Lucknow
CHAPTER XVIII.
The Storming of Delhi
CHAPTER XIX.
A Riot at Cawnpore
CHAPTER XX.
The Relief of Lucknow
CHAPTER XXI.
A Sad Parting
CHAPTER XXII.
The Last Capture of Lucknow
CHAPTER XXIII.
A Desperate Defense
CHAPTER XXIV.
Rest after Labor
CHAPTER I.
LIFE IN CANTONMENTS.
Very bright and pretty, in the early springtime of the year 1857, were
the British cantonments of Sandynugghur. As in all other British
garrisons in India, they stood quite apart from the town, forming a
suburb of their own. They consisted of the barracks, and of a maidan,
or, as in England it would be called, "a common," on which the troops
drilled and exercised, and round which stood the bungalows of the
military and civil officers of the station, of the chaplain, and of the
one or two merchants who completed the white population of the place.
Very pretty were these bungalows, built entirely upon the ground floor,
in rustic fashion, wood entering largely into their composition. Some
were thatched; others covered with slabs of wood or stone. All had wide
verandas running around them, with tatties, or blinds, made of reeds or
strips of wood, to let down, and give shade and coolness to the rooms
therein. In some of them the visitor walked from the compound, or
garden, directly into the dining-room; large, airy, with neither
curtains, nor carpeting, nor matting, but with polished boards as
flooring. The furniture here was generally plain and almost scanty,
for, except at meal-times, the rooms were but little used.
Outside, in the veranda, is the real sitting-room of the bungalow. Here
are placed a number of easy-chairs of all shapes, constructed of cane
or bamboo--light, cool, and comfortable; these are moved, as the sun
advances, to the shady side of the veranda, and in them the ladies read
and work, the gentlemen smoke. In all bungalows built for the use of
English families, there is, as was the case at Sandynugghur, a
drawing-room as well as a dining-room, and this, being the ladies'
especial domain, is generally furnished in European style, with a
piano, light chintz chair-covers, and muslin curtains.
The bedroom opens out of the sitting-room; and almost every bedroom has
its bathroom--that all-important adjunct in the East--attached to it.
The windows all open down to the ground, and the servants generally
come in and out through the veranda. Each window has its Venetian
blind, which answers all purposes of a door, and yet permits the air to
pass freely.
The veranda, in addition to serving as the general sitting-room to the
family, acts as a servants' hall. Here at the side not used by the
employers, the servants, when not otherwise engaged, sit on their mats,
mend their clothes, talk and sleep; and it is wonderful how much sleep
a Hindoo can get through in the twenty-four hours. The veranda is his
bedroom as well as sitting-room; here, spreading a mat upon the ground,
and rolling themselves up in a thin rug or blanket from the very top of
their head to their feet, the servants sleep, looking like a number of
mummies ranged against the wall. Out by the stables they have their
quarters, where they cook and eat, and could, if they chose, sleep; but
they prefer the coolness and freshness of the veranda, where, too, they
are ready at hand whenever called. The gardens were all pretty, and
well kept, with broad, shady trees, and great shrubs covered by bright
masses of flower; for Sandynugghur had been a station for many years,
and with plenty of water and a hot sun, vegetation is very rapid.
In two of the large reclining chairs two lads, of fifteen and sixteen
respectively, were lolling idly; they had been reading, for books lay
open in their laps, and they were now engaged in eating bananas, and in
talking to two young ladies, some three years their senior, who were
sitting working beside them.
"You boys will really make yourselves ill if you eat so many bananas."
"It is not that I care for them," said the eldest lad; "they are
tasteless things, and a good apple is worth a hundred of them; but one
must do something, and I am too lazy to go on with this Hindoo grammar;
besides, a fellow can't work when you girls come out here and talk to
him."
"That's very good, Ned; it is you that do all the talking; besides, you
know that you ought to shut yourselves up in the study, and not sit
here where you are sure to be interrupted."
"I have done three hours' steady work this morning with that wretched
Moonshi, Kate; and three hours in this climate is as much as my brain
will stand."
Kate Warrener and her brothers, Ned and Dick, were the children of the
major of the One Hundred and Fifty-first Bengal Native Infantry, the
regiment stationed at Sandynugghur. Rose Hertford, the other young
lady, was their cousin. The three former were born in India, but had
each gone to England at the age of nine for their education, and to
save them from the effects of the climate which English children are
seldom able to endure after that age. Their mother had sailed for
England with Dick, the youngest, but had died soon after she reached
home. Dick had a passion for the sea, and his father's relations having
good interest, had obtained for him a berth as a midshipman in the
royal navy, in which rank he had been serving for upward of a year. His
ship being now in Indian waters, a month's leave had been granted him
that he might go up the country to see his father. The other lad had
arrived from England three months before, with his sister and cousin.
Major Warrener had sent for his daughter, whose education was finished,
to take the head of his house, and, as a companion, had invited Rose
Hertford, who was the orphan child of his sister, to accompany her.
Ned, who had been at Westminster till he left England, was intended for
the Indian army. His father thought that it would be well for him to
come out to India with his sister, as he himself would work with him,
and complete his education, to enable him to pass the necessary
examination--then not a very severe one--while he could be at the same
time learning the native languages, which would be of immense benefit
to him after he had entered the army. Coming out as they had done in
the cold season, none of the four exhibited any of that pallor and
lassitude which, at any rate during the summer heats, are the rule
throughout the Anglo-Indian community.
As Ned finished his sentence the sound of the tread of two horses was
heard along the road.
"Captains Dunlop and Manners," Dick exclaimed; "a shilling to a penny!
Will either of you bet, girls?"
Neither his sister nor cousin replied to this offer; and the boys gave
a sly nod of intelligence to each other, as two horsemen rode up to the
veranda and dismounted; throwing their reins to the _syces_, who,
whatever the pace at which their masters ride, run just behind, in
readiness to take the horses, should they dismount.
"Good-morning, Miss Warrener; good-morning, Miss Hertford: we have
brought you some interesting news."
"Indeed!" said the girls, as they shook hands with the newcomers, who
were two as good specimens of tall, well-made, sunburnt Anglo-Saxons as
one would wish to see. "What is it?"
"We have just got the news that a family of wild boars have come down,
and are doing a lot of damage near Meanwerrie, four miles off. I
suppose they have been disturbed somewhere further away, as we have not
heard of any pig here for months; so to-morrow morning there is going
to be grand pig-sticking; of course you will come out and see the fun?"
"We shall be delighted," said Kate; but Rose put in: "Yes; but oh! how
unfortunate! it's Mrs. Briarley's garden party."
"That has been put off till next day. It is not often we get a chance
at pig, and we have always got gardens. The two need not have
interfered with each other, as we shall start at daylight for
Meanwerrie; but we may be out some hours, and so it was thought better
to put off the party to a day when there will be nothing else to do."
"Hurrah!" shouted Dick; "I am in luck! I wanted, above all things, to
see a wild boar hunt; do you think my father will let me have a spear?"
"Hardly, Dick, considering that last time you went out you tumbled off
three times at some jumps two feet wide, and that, were you to fall in
front of a pig, he would rip you up before you had time to think about
it; besides which, you would almost certainly stick somebody with your
spear."
Dick laughed.
"That was the first time I had ever been on a horse," he said; "will
you ride, Ned?"
"No," said Ned; "I can ride fairly enough along a straight road, but it
wants a first-rate rider to go across country at a gallop, looking at
the boar instead of where you are going, and carrying a spear in one
hand."
"Do you think papa will ride?" Kate asked.
"I don't know, Miss Warrener; the major is a famous spear; but here he
is to speak for himself."
Major Warrener was in uniform, having just come up from the
orderly-room. He was a tall, soldierly figure, inclining to stoutness.
His general expression was that of cheeriness and good temper; but he
was looking, as he drove up, grave and serious. His brow cleared,
however, as his eye fell upon the group in the veranda.
"Ah! Dunlop, brought the news about the boar, eh?"
"You will take us with you?" the girls asked in a breath.
"Oh, yes, you shall go; I will drive you myself. I am getting too heavy
for pig-sticking, especially with such responsibilities as you about.
There, I will get out of this uniform; it's hot for the time of year.
What are you drinking? nothing? Boy, bring some soda and brandy!"
Then, producing his cigar-case, he took a cheroot.
"Ag-low!" he shouted, and a native servant ran up with a piece of
red-hot charcoal held in a little pair of tongs.
"There, sit down and make yourselves comfortable till I come back."
The lads, finding that their society was not particularly required,
strolled off to the stables, where Ned entered into a conversation with
the _syces_ as to the distance to Meanwerrie and the direction in which
that village lay. Like all Anglo-Indian children brought up in India,
the boys had, when they left India, spoken the language fluently. They
had almost entirely forgotten it during their stay in England, but it
speedily came back again, and Ned, at the end of three months' work,
found that he could get on very fairly. Dick had lost it altogether.
When they went back to the veranda they found that the girls had gone
indoors, and that their father was sitting and smoking with his brother
officers. When the lads came up the conversation ceased, and then the
major said:
"It is as well the boys should know what is going on."
"What is it, father?" Ned asked, struck with the grave tone in which
the major spoke, and at the serious expression in all their faces.
"Well, boys, for some months past there have been all sorts of curious
rumors running through the country. Chupatties have been sent round,
and that is always considered to portend something serious."
"Do you mean the chupatties we eat--flat cakes, father?"
"Yes, Ned. Nobody knows who sends them round, or the exact meaning of
the signal, but it seems to be an equivalent for to 'prepare,' 'make
ready.' Chupatties are quickly prepared; they are the bread eaten on a
journey, and hence probably their signification. At any rate, these
things have been circulated among the native troops all over the
country. Strangers are known to have come and gone, and there is a
general uneasy and unsettled feeling prevalent among the troops. A
ridiculous rumor has circulated among them that the new cartridges have
been greased with pig's fat, in order that the caste of all who put it
to their lips might be destroyed. To-day I have received news from
Calcutta that the Nineteenth native regiment at Berhampore has behaved
in a grossly mutinous manner, and that it is feared the regiments at
Barrackpore and Dumdum will follow their example. The affair has been
suppressed, but there is an uneasy feeling abroad, and all the troops
in Bengal proper appear tainted with paltry disaffection. We have no
reason for believing that the spirit has spread to the northwest, and
are convinced that as far as our own regiment is concerned they can be
relied on; but the affair, taken in connection with the previous
rumors, is very strange, and I fear that there are lots of trouble
ahead. I wish now that I had not had the girls out for another year;
but I could not foresee this, and, indeed, until this morning, although
there has been a good deal of talk, we all hoped it would have passed
off without anything coming of it. One hopes still that it will spread
no further; but should it do so, it is impossible to say what may
happen. All we have to do is to be watchful, and to avoid with care
anything that can offend the men's prejudices. We must explain to the
native officers the folly of the greased cartridge story, and tell them
to reassure the men. You don't see anything else to do, Dunlop?"
"No, major; I trust that the regiment is to be depended upon; it has
always been well treated and the men have seemed attached to us all. We
will do our best to reassure them; but if there is any insubordination,
I hope that the colonel will give the men a lesson which will put an
end to the nonsense in the bud."
"Of course you will stay to tiffin?" the major said, as the _kitmagar_,
or head servant, announced that tiffin was ready.
"Many thanks, major, but we promised to tiff with Bullen, and he would
be mad if we did not turn up. How are you thinking of going to-morrow?
I intend to drive over, and send my horse on; so I can give one of your
boys a lift in my buggy."
"Thank you," the major said, "that would suit us exactly. I shall drive
in my dog-cart, which will carry four of us; and if you will take Dick,
that will make it all right."
"What time do we start?"
"We are to be there by seven; we set it so late to give the ladies time
to breakfast comfortably before starting. I will call here at half-past
six for Dick; it will be all in my way. Good-morning."
Two minutes later the girls, Ned, and Dick came into the dining-room,
and the party sat down to luncheon--a meal always called tiffin in
India. It is a great mistake to suppose that people in India cannot eat
because of the heat; in the extreme heat of summer their appetites do,
no doubt, fall off; but at other times, they not only eat, but eat more
largely than is good for them; and a good deal of the liver complaint
which is the pest of India is in no small degree due to the fact that,
the appetite being unnaturally stimulated by hot and piquant food,
people eat more than in such a climate as this can be properly
digested. The meal consisted of curries, with which were handed round
chutney and Bombay ducks--a little fish about the size of a smelt, cut
open, dried, and smoked with assafoetida, giving it an intolerably
nasty taste to strangers, but one which Anglo-Indians become accustomed
to and like--no one knows why they are called Bombay ducks--cutlets,
plantains sliced and fried, pomegranates, and watermelons. They were
waited upon by two servants, both dressed entirely in white, but
wearing red turbans, very broad and shallow. These turbans denoted the
particular tribe and sect to which their wearers belonged. The castes
in India are almost innumerable, and each has a turban of a peculiar
color or shape, and by these they can be at once distinguished by a
resident. On their foreheads were lines and spots of a yellowish white
paint, indicating also their caste, and the peculiar divinity to whose
worship they were specially devoted. On their feet they wore slippers,
and were as noiseless as cats in all their movements. There are no
better or more pleasant waiters in the world than the natives of
Hindostan.
Early as the hour named for the start would appear in England, it was
by no means early for India, where every one is up and about soon after
daylight--the morning hours up to eight o'clock being the most pleasant
of the whole day.
Kate and Rose were up, and all had had "_chota hazaree_" (little
breakfast) by half-past six, and were ready when Captain Dunlop drew up
in his buggy--a conveyance which will only hold two. The dog-cart was
already at the door, and the whole party were soon in motion. On the
road they passed several of their friends, for every one was going out
to the hunt, and merry greetings were exchanged.
The scenery round Sandynugghur resembles that which is common to all
the great plains of India watered by the Ganges and Jumna. The country
is for the most part perfectly flat, and cut up into little fields,
divided by shallow ditches. Here and there nullahs, or deep
watercourses, with tortuous channels and perpendicular sides, wind
through the fields to the nearest stream. These nullahs constitute the
great danger of hunting in the country. In the fields men may be
noticed, in the scantiest of attire, working with hoes among their
springing crops; women, wrapped up in the dark blue calico cloth which
forms their ordinary costume, are working as hard as the men. Villages
are scattered about, generally close to groves of trees. The huts are
built of mud; most of them are flat-topped, but some are thatched with
rushes. Rising above the villages is the mosque, where the population
are Mohammedan, built of mud like the houses, but whitewashed and
bright. The Hindoo villages generally, but not always, have their
temples. The vegetation of the great plains of India is not tropical,
according to the ideas of tropical vegetation gathered from British
hothouses. There are a few palms and many bananas with their wide
leaves, but the groves are composed of sturdy trees, whose appearance
at a distance differs in no way from that of ordinary English forest
trees. Viewed closer, the banian with its many stems is indeed a
vegetable wonder; but, were it not for the villages and natives, a
traveler might journey for very many miles across the plains of India
without seeing anything which would specially remind him that he was
out of England.
There were a considerable number of traps assembled when Major Warrener
drew up, and some eight or ten gentlemen on horseback, each carrying a
boar-spear--a weapon not unlike the lance of an English cavalryman, but
shorter in the handle. The riders were mostly dressed in coats of the
Norfolk jacket type, and knee-breeches with thick gaiters. The material
of their clothes was a coarse but very strong cloth of native make,
gray or brown in color. Some wore round hats and forage caps with
puggarees twisted round them.
A chorus of greeting saluted the party as they drove up.
"Well, young ladies," the colonel said, "so you have come out to see
the death of the boar,
"'The boar, the boar, the mighty boar,'
as the song says? So you are not going to take a spear to-day, major?
Think it's time to leave it to the youngsters, eh?"
"Where are the wild boars, Mrs. Renwick?" Kate asked of the colonel's
wife.
"Pig, my dear; we always call them pig when we speak of them together,
though we talk of the father of the family as the boar. Do you see that
clump of long grass and jungle right across the plain? That's where
they are. They have been watched all night. They went out to feed
before daybreak and have just gone back again. Do you think we are in
the best place for seeing the sport, Major Warrener?"
"I think, Mrs. Renwick, that if you leave your trap and go up to the
top of that knoll, two hundred yards to the right, you will get a
really good view of the plain."
Mrs. Renwick alighted from the dog-cart in which the colonel had driven
her, and the whole party, following her example, walked in a laughing
group to the spot which Major Warrener had indicated, and which was
pronounced as just the place. The _syces_ stood at the heads of the
horses, and those who were going to take part in the sport cantered off
toward the spot where the pigs were lurking, making, however, a wide
_détour_ so as to approach it from the other side, as it was desired to
drive them across the plain. At some distance behind the clump were
stationed a number of natives, with a variety of mongrel village curs.
When they saw the horsemen approach they came up and prepared to enter
the jungle to drive out the pigs.
The horsemen took up their position on either side of the patch in
readiness to start as soon as the animals were fairly off. A number of
villagers, in whose fields of young rice the family had done much
damage during the few days that they had taken up their abode in their
present quarters, were assembled on such little rises of ground as were
likely to give a good view of the proceedings. There were about a dozen
horsemen with spears; of these, three or four were novices, and these
intended to try their skill for the first time upon the "squeakers," as
the young pigs are called, while the others prepared for a race after
the old ones.
Great nerve, considerable skill, and first-rate horsemanship are
required for the sport of pigsticking. The horse, too, must be fast,
steady, well-trained and quick, for without all these advantages the
sport is a dangerous one. The wild boar is, at the start, as fast as a
horse. He is very quick at turning, and when pressed always attacks his
pursuers, and as he rushes past will lay open the leg or flank of a
horse with a sweeping cut with his sharp tusk. If he can knock a horse
down the position of his rider would be serious indeed, were not help
to arrive in time to draw off the attention of the enraged animal from
his foe. Heavy falls, too, take place over watercourses and nullahs,
and in some parts of India the difficulties are greatly increased by
bowlders of all kinds being scattered over the ground, and by the
frequent occurrence of bushes and shrubs armed with most formidable
spines and thorns. Conspicuous among these is the bush known as the
"wait-a-bit thorn," which is furnished with two kinds of thorn--the one
long, stiff, and penetrating, the other short and curved, with a forked
point almost like a fishhook. When this once takes hold it is almost
necessary to cut the cloth to obtain a release.
Scarcely had the beaters, with much shouting and clamor, entered the
patch of bush in which the pigs were lying, than the porcine family,
consisting of a splendid boar and sow, and eight nearly full-grown
squeakers, darted out on the open, and in a moment the horsemen were
off in pursuit. The ground was deep and heavy, and the pigs at the
first burst gained fast upon their pursuers. There was no attempt on
the part of the pigs to keep together, and directly after starting they
began to diverge. The old boar and sow both kept across the plain--one
bearing toward the left, the other to the right. The squeakers ran in
all directions--some at right angles to the line that the old ones were
taking. The object of one and all was to gain cover of some kind.
With their hats pressed well down upon their heads, and their spears
advanced with the head some two or three feet from the ground, the
hunters started after them--some making after the boar, some after the
sow, according to the position which they occupied at the commencement
of the chase, while some of the young hands dashed off in pursuit of
the squeakers.
There were five, however, after the boar; Captain Dunlop, a young
ensign named Skinner, the Scotch doctor of the regiment, and two
civilians. For a short time they kept together, and then Captain Dunlop
and Skinner began to draw ahead of the others.
The boar was a stanch one, and a mile had been passed before his speed
began sensibly to diminish. The young ensign, who was mounted on a very
fast Arab, began to draw up to him three or four lengths ahead of
Captain Dunlop, bearing his horse so as to get upon the left side of
the boar, in order to permit him to use his spear to advantage.
He was nearly up to him when Captain Dunlop, who saw the boar glancing
back savagely, cried:
"Look out, Skinner! he will be round in a moment; keep your horse well
in hand!"
A moment later the boar was round. The horse, young and unbroken at the
work, started violently, swerved, and, before his rider could get him
round, the boar was upon him. In an instant the horse was upon the
ground, with a long gash upon his flank, and Skinner, flying through
the air, fell almost directly in the boar's way.
Fortunately for the young ensign, Captain Dunlop, as he shouted his
warning, had turned his horse to the left, so as to cut off the boar
when he turned, and he was now so close that the boar, in passing, had
only time to give a vicious blow at the fallen man, which laid his arm
open from his shoulder to his elbow.
At that instant Captain Dunlop arrived, and his spear pierced the
animal's flank. His aim was, however, disconcerted by his horse, at the
moment he struck, leaping over the fallen ensign; the wound, therefore,
was but a glancing one, and in a moment the boar was round upon his new
assailant. Fortunately the horse was a well-trained one, and needed not
the sharp touch of his master's rein to wheel sharp round on his hind
legs, and dart off at full speed. The boar swerved off again, and
continued his original line of flight, his object being to gain a thick
patch of jungle, now little over a quarter of a mile distant; the
detention, however, was fatal to him, for the doctor, who was close on
Captain Dunlop's heels, now brought up his horse with a rush and, with
a well-aimed thrust, ran the animal through, completely pinning him to
the earth. The honor of his death was therefore divided between the
doctor and Captain Dunlop, for the latter had drawn first blood, or, as
it is termed, had taken first spear, while the former had scored the
kill.
The sow had been more fortunate than her lord. She had taken a line
across a part of the plain which was intersected by several nullahs.
She, too, had been wounded, but one of the nullahs had thrown out
several of her pursuers: one rider had been sent over his horse's head
and stunned; and the sow, turning sharp down a deep and precipitous
gully, had made her escape. Three of the squeakers fell to the spears
of the Griffs--young hands--and the rest had escaped. The boar had been
killed only a short distance from the rise upon which the spectators
from Sandynugghur were assembled, and the beaters soon tied its four
legs together, and, putting a pole through them, six of them carried
the beast up to the colonel's wife for inspection.
"What a savage-looking brute it is!" said Kate; "not a bit like a pig,
with all those long bristles, and that sharp high back, and those
tremendous tusks."
"Will you accept the skin, Miss Warrener?" Captain Dunlop said to her
afterward; "I have arranged with the doctor. He is to have the hams,
and I am to have the hide. If you will, I will have it dressed and
mounted."
"Thank you, Captain Dunlop, I should like it very much;" but, as it
turned out, Kate Warrener never got the skin.
The boar killed, the doctor's first care was to attend to the wounded,
and Skinner's arm was soon bound up, and he was sent home in a buggy;
the man who was stunned came to in a short time. The unsuccessful ones
were much laughed at by the colonel and major, for allowing half the
game started to get away.
"You ought not to grumble, colonel," Captain Manners said. "If we had
killed them all, we might not have had another run for months; as it
is, we will have some more sport next week."
There was some consultation as to the chance of getting the sow even
now, but it was generally agreed that she would follow the nullah down,
cross the stream, and get into a large canebrake beyond, from which it
would take hours to dislodge her; so a general move was made to the
carriages, and in a short time the whole party were on their way back
to Sandynugghur.
CHAPTER II.
THE OUTBREAK.
A week after the boar-hunt came the news that a Sepoy named Mangul
Pandy, belonging to the Thirty-fourth Native Infantry, stationed at
Barrackpore, a place only a few miles out of Calcutta, had, on the 29th
of March, rushed out upon the parade ground and called upon the men to
mutiny. He then shot the European sergeant-major of the regiment, and
cut down an officer. Pandy continued to exhort the men to rise to arms,
and although his comrades would not join him, they refused to make any
movement to arrest him. General Hearsey now arrived on the parade
ground with his son and a Major Ross, and at once rode at the man, who,
finding that his comrades would not assist him, discharged the contents
of the musket into his own body.
Two days later the mutinous Nineteenth were disbanded at Barrackpore.
On the 3rd of April Mangul Pandy, who had only wounded himself, was
hung, and the same doom was allotted to a native officer of his
regiment, for refusing to order the men to assist the officer attacked
by that mutineer, and for himself inciting the men to rise against the
government.
"What do you think of the news, papa?" Dick asked his father.
"I hope that the example which has been set by the execution of these
ringleaders, and by the disbandment of the Nineteenth, may have a
wholesome effect, Dick; but we shall see before long."
It needed no great lapse of time to show that this lesson had been
ineffectual. From nearly every station throughout Bengal and the
northwest provinces came rumors of disaffection; at Agra, at Umballah,
and at other places incendiary fires broke out with alarming frequency,
letters were from time to time intercepted, calling upon the Sepoys to
revolt, while at Lucknow serious disturbances occurred, and the Seventh
Regiment were disarmed by Sir Henry Lawrence, the Commissioner of Oude.
So the month of April passed, and as it went on the feeling of disquiet
and danger grew deeper and more general. It was like the anxious time
preceding a thunderstorm, the cloud was gathering, but how or when it
would burst none could say. Many still maintained stoutly that there
was no danger whatever, and that the whole thing would blow over; but
men with wives and families were generally inclined to take a more
somber view of the case. Nor is this to be wondered at. The British
form an almost inappreciable portion of the population of India; they
are isolated in a throng of natives, outnumbered by a thousand to one.
A man might therefore well feel his helplessness to render any
assistance to those dear to him in the event of a general uprising of
the people. Soldiers without family ties take things lightly, they are
ready for danger and for death if needs be, but they can always hope to
get through somehow; but the man with a wife and children in India, at
the time when a general outbreak was anticipated, would have the
deepest cause for anxiety. Not, however, that at this time any one at
Sandynugghur looked for anything so terrible. There was a spirit of
insubordination abroad in the native troops, no doubt, but no one
doubted but that it would, with more or less trouble, be put down. And
so things went on as usual, and the garden parties and the drives, and
the friendly evening visiting continued just as before. It was at one
of these pleasant evening gatherings that the first blow fell. Most of
the officers of the station, their wives, and the two or three
civilians were collected at Major Warrener's. The windows were all
open. The girls were playing a duet on the piano; five or six other
ladies were in the drawing-room and about the same number of gentlemen
were standing or sitting by them, some four or five were lounging in
the veranda enjoying their cheroots; native servants in their white
dresses moved noiselessly about with iced lemonade and wine, when a
Sepoy came up the walk.
"What is it?" asked Major Warrener, who was one of the group in the
veranda.
"Dispatch for the colonel, Sahib."
The colonel, who was sitting next to the major, held out his hand for
the message, and was rising, when Major Warrener said:
"Don't move, colonel; boy, bring a candle."
The servant brought it: the colonel opened the envelope and glanced at
the dispatch. He uttered an exclamation which was half a groan, half a
cry.
"Good Heaven! what is the matter, colonel?"
"The native troops at Meerut have mutinied, have murdered their
officers and all the European men, women, and children they could find,
and are marching upon Delhi. Look after your regiment."
A low cry broke from the major. This was indeed awful news, and for a
moment the two men sat half-stunned at the calamity, while the sound of
music and merry talk came in through the open window like a mockery on
their ears.
"Let us take a turn in the compound," said the major, "where no one can
hear us."
For half an hour they walked up and down the garden. There could be no
doubt about the truth of the news, for it was an official telegram from
the adjutant at Meerut; and as to the extent of the misfortune, it was
terrible.
"There is not a single white regiment at Delhi," exclaimed the colonel;
"these fiends will have it all their own way, and at Delhi there are
scores of European families. Delhi once in their hands will be a
center, and the mutiny will spread like wildfire over India. What was
the general at Meerut about? what were the white troops up to? It is as
inexplicable as it is terrible. Is there anything to be done, major, do
you think?" But Major Warrener could think of nothing. The men at
present knew nothing of the news, but the tidings would reach them in
two or three days; for news in India spreads from village to village,
and town to town, with almost incredible speed, and Meerut was but a
hundred and fifty miles distant.
"Had we better tell them inside?" the major asked.
"No," answered the colonel; "let them be happy for to-night; they will
know the news to-morrow. As they are breaking up, ask all the officers
to come round to the messroom; I will meet them there, and we can talk
the matter over; but let the ladies have one more quiet night; they
will want all their strength and fortitude for what is to come."
And so, clearing their brows, they went into the house and listened to
the music, and joined in the talk until ten o'clock struck and every
one got up to go, and so ended the last happy evening at Sandynugghur.
The next morning brought the news of the rising at Delhi, but it was
not till two days later that letters giving any details of these
terrible events arrived, and the full extent of the awful calamity was
known.
The flame broke out at Meerut at seven o'clock in the evening of
Sunday, the 10th of May. On the previous day a punishment parade had
been held to witness the military degradation of a number of men of the
Third Native Cavalry, who had been guilty of mutinous conduct in
respect to the cartridges. The native regiments at the station
consisted of the Third Cavalry, the Eleventh and Twentieth Infantry;
there were also in garrison the Sixtieth Rifles, the Sixth Dragoon
Guards, and two batteries of artillery; a force amply sufficient, if
properly handled, to have crushed the native troops, and to have nipped
the mutiny in the bud. Unhappily, they were not well handled. The
cantonments of Meerut were of great extent, being nearly five miles in
length by two in breadth, the barracks of the British troops were
situated at some distance from those of the native regiments, and the
action of the troops was paralyzed by the incompetency of the general,
an old man who had lost all energy, and who remained in a state of
indecision while the men of the native regiments shot their officers,
murdered all the women and children, and the white inhabitants whose
bungalows were situated at their end of their cantonment, opened the
jail doors, and after setting fire to the whole of this quarter of
Meerut, marched off toward Delhi, unmolested by the British troops.
Even then an orderly sent off with dispatches to the officer commanding
at Delhi, informing him of what had happened, and bidding him beware,
might have saved the lives of hundreds of Englishmen and women, even if
it were too late to save Delhi; but nothing whatever was done; the
English troops made a few meaningless and uncertain movements, and
marched back to their barracks. No one came forward to take the lead.
So the white troops of Meerut remained stationary under arms all night,
and the English population of Delhi were left to their fate.
From Meerut to Delhi is thirty-two miles, and the mutineers of Meerut,
marching all night, arrived near the town at eight in the morning.
Singularly enough, the ancient capital of India, the place around which
the aspiration of Hindoos and Mohammedans alike centered, and where the
ex-emperor and his family still resided, was left entirely to the guard
of native troops; not a single British regiment was there, not a
battery of white troops. As the center of the province, a large white
population were gathered there-the families of the officers of the
native infantry and artillery, of the civil officers of the province,
merchants, bankers, missionaries, and others. As at all other Indian
towns, the great bulk of the white inhabitants lived in the cantonments
outside the town; had it not been for this, not one would have escaped
the slaughter that commenced as soon as the Third Cavalry from Meerut
rode into the town. The Fifty-fourth Native Infantry, who had hastily
been marched out to meet them, fraternized with them at once, and,
standing quietly by, looked on while their officers were murdered by
the cavalrymen. Then commenced a scene of murder and atrocity which is
happily without parallel in history. Suffice to say, that with the
exception of some half-dozen who in one way or other managed to escape,
the whole of the white population inside the walls of Delhi were
murdered under circumstances of the most horrible and revolting
cruelty. Had the news of the outbreak of Meerut been sent by a swift
mounted messenger, the whole of these hapless people would have had
time to leave the town before the arrival of the mutineers. Those in
the cantonments outside the city fared somewhat better. Some were
killed, but the greater part made their escape; and although many were
murdered on the way, either by villagers or by bodies of mutineers, the
majority reached Meerut or Aliwal. The sufferers of Delhi did not die
wholly unavenged. Inside the city walls was an immense magazine
containing vast stores of powder, cartridges, and arms. It was
all-important that this should not fall into the hands of the
mutineers. This was in charge of Lieutenant Willoughby of the royal
artillery, who had with him Lieutenants Forrest and Rayner, and six
English warrant and non-commissioned officers, Buckley, Shaw, Scully,
Crow, Edwards, and Stewart. The following account was given by
Lieutenant Forrest:
"The gates of the magazine were closed and barricaded, and every
possible arrangement that could be made was at once commenced. Inside
the gate leading to the park were placed two six-pounders doubly
charged with grape. These were under acting sub-conductor Crow and
Sergeant Stewart, with lighted matches in their hands. Their orders
were that if any attempt was made to force the gate the guns were to be
fired at once, and they were to fall back to that part of the magazine
where Lieutenant Willoughby and I were posted. The principal gate of
the magazine was similarly defended by two guns and by the
_chevaux-de-frise_ laid down in the inside. For the further defense of
this gate and the magazine in its vicinity, there were two six-pounders
so placed as to command it and a small bastion close by. Within sixty
yards of the gate, and commanding two cross roads, were three
six-pounders, and one twenty-four pound howitzer, which could be so
managed as to act upon any part of the magazine in that neighborhood.
After all these guns and howitzers had been placed in the several
positions above named, they were loaded with a double charge of grape.
After these arrangements had been completed a train was laid ready to
be fired at a preconcerted signal. On the enemy approaching the walls
of the magazine, which was provided with scaling ladders, the native
establishment at once deserted us by climbing up the sloped sheds on
the inside of the magazine and descending the ladders on the outside."
When the attack began the mutineers climbed the walls in great numbers,
and opened fire upon the little garrison; these replied by an incessant
fire of grape-shot, which told severely upon the enemy. There were but
two men to each gun, but they stood nobly to their pieces until all
were more or less wounded by the enemy's fire. Finding that no more
could be done, Lieutenant Willoughby gave the order, Conductor Scully
fired the several trains, and in another instant a tremendous explosion
took place which shook all Delhi, and covered the city with a cloud of
black smoke. It was calculated that from fifteen hundred to two
thousand of the mutineers and rabble of the town were killed by the
falling walls, or crushed under the masses of masonry. Lieutenants
Willoughby, Forrest, Rayner, and Conductor Buckley survived the
explosion, and effected their retreat in the confusion through a small
sallyport on the river face. The mutineers were so enraged by their
misfortune that they rushed to the palace and demanded of the king a
number of European officers and ladies who had sought refuge under his
protection. They were handed over to the mutineers, and at once
slaughtered.
The Warreners listened with pale faces as their father, on his return
from the orderly-room, where the news had been discussed, told them the
sad story.
"There is nothing to be done, I suppose, papa?" Ned said gently.
"No, my boy; we are in the hands of God. We must wait now for what may
come. At present the regiment professes its fidelity, and has now
volunteered to march against the mutineers. The colonel believes them,
so do some of the others; I do not; it may be that the men mean what
they say at present, but we know that emissaries come and go, and every
fresh rising will be an incentive to them. It is no use blinking the
truth, dear; we are like men standing on a loaded mine which may at any
moment explode. I have been thinking, indeed for the last week I have
done nothing but think, what is best to be done. If the mutiny breaks
out at night or at any time when we are not on parade, we have agreed
that all the whites shall make at once for Mr. Thompson's house. It is
the strongest of any of the residences--for there would of course be no
getting to the messhouse--and then we will sell our lives as dearly as
we may. If it happens when we are on parade, defense by the rest of the
residents would be useless. There are but six civilians, with you two
boys--for we have counted you--eight. Probably but few of you could
gain Thompson's house in time; and if all did, your number would be too
small to defend it. There remains then nothing but flight. The rising
will most likely take place on parade. The residents have agreed that
each day they will, on some excuses or other, have their traps at their
door at that hour, so that at the sound of the first shot fired they
may jump in and drive off."
"But, you, papa?" Kate asked.
"My dear," said her father, "I shall be on duty; so long as a vestige
of the regiment remains as a regiment, I shall be with it; if the whole
regiment breaks up and attacks us, those who do not fall at the first
volley will be justified in trying to save their lives. The colonel,
the adjutant, and myself are mounted officers, and two or three of the
others will have their dogcarts each day brought up to the messhouse,
as they often do. If there is a mutiny on parade, the unmounted
officers will make for them, and we who are mounted will as far as
possible cover their retreat. So it is arranged."
"But will the road be open to Meerut, uncle?" Rose asked after a pause,
for the danger seemed so strange and terrible that they felt stunned by
it.
"No, my dear; it certainly will not. There are three garrison towns
between us, and they also will probably be up. The only thing is to
keep to the road for the first ten or twelve miles, and then take to
the woods, and make your way on foot. I have spoken to Saba this
morning. We can trust her; she nursed you all, and has lived with me
ever since as a sort of pensioner till you came out. I have asked her
to get two dresses of Mussulman country women; in those only the eyes
are visible, while the Hindoo dress gives no concealment. I have also
ordered her to get me two dresses: one, such as a young Mussulman
_zemindar_ wears; the other, as his retainer. They are for you boys.
Keep the bundles, when you get them, in that closet in the dining-room,
so as to be close at hand; and in case of alarm, be sure and take them
with you. Remember my instructions are absolute. If by day, escape in
the trap at the first alarm; if the trap is not available, escape at
once on foot. If you hear the enemy are close, hide till nightfall in
that thick clump of bushes in the corner of the compound, then make for
that copse of trees, and try and find your way to Meerut. I trust I may
be with you, or that I may join you on the road. But in any case, it
will relieve my anxiety greatly to know that your course is laid down.
If I had to return here to look for you, I should bring my pursuers
after me, and your chance of escape would be gone--for I rely upon you
all to follow my instructions to the letter."
"Yes, indeed, papa," was the unanimous answer of the young Warreners,
who were deeply affected at the solemn manner in which their father
spoke of the situation.
"I have a brace of revolvers upstairs," he said, "and will give one to
each of you boys. Carry them always, but put them on under your coats,
so that they may not be noticed; it would be as well for you to
practice yourselves in their use; but when you do so, always go some
distance from the station, so that the sound will not be heard."
"Can you give Rose and me a pistol each, too, papa?" Kate said quietly.
Major Warrener kissed his daughter and niece tenderly.
"I have a pair of small double-barreled pistols; you shall each have
one," he answered with a deep sigh.
That afternoon the young Warreners and their cousin went out for a
walk, and, fixing a piece of paper against a tree, practiced pistol
shooting for an hour. Any passer-by ignorant of the circumstances would
have wondered at the countenances of these young people, engaged,
apparently, in the amusement of pistol practice. There was no smile on
them, no merry laugh when the ball went wide of the mark, no triumphant
shout at a successful shot. Their faces were set, pale, and earnest,
Scarcely a word was spoken. Each loaded in silence, took up a place at
the firing point, and aimed steadily and seriously; the boys with an
angry eye and frowning brow, as if each time they were firing at a
deadly foe; the girls as earnestly, and without any of the nervousness
or timidity which would be natural in girls handling firearms for the
first time. Each day the exercise was repeated, and after a week's
practice all could hit, with a fair amount of certainty, a piece of
paper six inches square, at a distance of ten yards.
During this time Captains Dunlop and Manners spent their whole time,
when not engaged upon their military duties, at Major Warrener's. They
were now the recognized lovers of Kate and Rose; and although, in those
days of tremendous anxiety and peril, no formal engagements were
entered upon, the young people understood each other, and Major
Warrener gave his tacit approval. Very earnestly all the party hoped
that when the dread moment came it might come when they were all
together, so that they might share the same fate, whatever it might be.
The young officers' buggies now stood all day in Major Warrener's
compound, with the patient _syces_ squatting near, or talking with the
servants, while the major's horses stood ready saddled in the stables.
However much the party might hope to be together when the crisis came,
they felt that it was improbable that they would be so, for at the
first symptoms of mutiny it would be the duty of the officers to hasten
to the barracks to endeavor to quell it, even if certain death should
meet them there.
In the face of the tidings from Meerut and Delhi, all the pretense of
confidence, which had hitherto been kept up at the station, came to an
end; and even had there been implicit confidence in the regiment, the
news of such terrible events would have caused an entire cessation of
the little amusements and gatherings in which Sandynugghur had
previously indulged.
As is usual in cases of extreme danger, the various temperaments of
people come strongly into relief at these awful times. The pretty young
wife of the doctor was nearly wild with alarm. Not daring to remain at
home alone, she passed the day in going from house to house of her
female friends. Advice and example she obtained from these, but poor
comfort. The colonel's wife was as brave as any man in the station; she
hardly shared her husband's opinion that the regiment would remain
faithful in the midst of an almost general defection; but she was calm,
self-possessed, and ready for the worst.
"It is no use crying, my dear," she said to the doctor's wife. "Our
husbands have enough to worry them without being shaken by our tears.
Death, after all, can only come once, and it is better to die with
those we love than to be separated."
But there were not many tears shed in Sandynugghur. The women were pale
and quiet. They shook hands with a pressure which meant much, lips
quivered, and tears might drop when they spoke of children at home; but
this was not often, and day after day they bore the terrible strain
with that heroic fortitude which characterized English women in India
during the awful period of the mutiny. Ten days after the news came in
of the rising at Delhi Major Warrener told his family, on his return
from parade, that the regiment had again declared its fidelity, and had
offered to march against the mutineers.
"I am glad of it," he said, "because it looks as if at present, at
least, they have not made up their minds to mutiny, and I shall be able
to go to mess with a lighter heart; as I told you yesterday, it is the
colonel's birthday, so we all dine at mess."
In the meantime Saba had faithfully carried out her commission as to
the dresses, and had added to the bundles a bottle containing a brown
juice which she had extracted from some berries; this was to be used
for staining the skin, and so completing the disguise. The Warreners
knew that if their old nurse had any information as to any intended
outbreak she would let them know; but she heard nothing. She was known
to be so strongly attached to the major's family that, had the other
servants known anything of it, they would have kept it from her.
The hour for the mess-dinner was eight, and the young Warreners had
finished their evening meal before their father started.
"God bless you, my children, and watch over and protect us all till we
meet again!" such was the solemn leave-taking with which the major and
his children had parted--if only for half an hour--since the evil days
began.
For an hour and a half the young Warreners and their cousin sat and
read, and occasionally talked.
"It's time for tea," Kate said, looking at her watch; and she struck a
bell upon the table.
Usually the response was almost instantaneous; but Kate waited two
minutes, and then rang sharply twice. There was still no reply.
"He must be asleep," she said, "or out of hearing; but it is curious
that none of the others answer!"
Dick went out into the veranda, but came in again in a minute or two:
"There is no one there, Kate; and I don't hear any of them about
anywhere."
The four young people looked at each other. What did this mean? Had the
servants left in a body? Did they know that something was going to
happen? Such were the mute questions which their looks asked each other.
"Girls!" said Ned, "put your dark shawls round you. It may be nothing,
but it is better to be prepared. Get the bundles out. Dick, put a
bottle of wine in your pocket; and let us all fill our pockets with
biscuits."
Silently and quietly the others did as he told them.
"There is that great biscuit-tin full," Ned said when they had filled
their pockets; "let us empty it into that cloth, and tie it up. Now, if
you will put your shawls on I will look in at the stables."
In a couple of minutes he returned.
"The horses are all unharnessed," he said, "and not a soul is to be
seen. Ah, is that Saba?"
The old nurse had been found asleep in her favorite place outside the
door of her young mistresses' room.
"Do you know what is the matter, Saba? All the servants are gone!"
The old nurse shook her head. "Bad news; no tell Saba."
"Now, Saba, get ready to start," for the nurse had declared that she
would accompany them, to go into the villages to buy food; "Dick, come
with me; we will put one of the horses into the dogcart."
They were leaving the room when they heard the sound of a rifle. As if
it were the signal, in a moment the air rang with rifle shots, shouts,
and yells. The boys leaped back into the room and caught up the bundles.
"Quick, for your lives, girls! some of them are not fifty yards off! To
the bushes! Come, Saba!"
"Saba do more good here," the old nurse said, and seated herself
quietly in the veranda.
It was but twenty yards to the bushes they had marked as the place of
concealment; and as they entered and crouched down there came the sound
of hurrying feet, and a band of Sepoys, led by one of the jemadars, or
native officers, rushed up to the veranda from the back.
"Now," the jemadar shouted, "search the house; kill the boys, but keep
the white women; they are too pretty to hurt."
Two minutes' search--in which furniture was upset, curtains pulled
down, and chests ransacked--and a shout of rage proclaimed that the
house was empty.
The jemadar shouted to his men: "Search the compound; they can't be far
off; some of you run out to the plain; they can't have got a hundred
yards away; besides, our guards out there will catch them."
The old nurse rose to her feet just as the Sepoys were rushing out on
the search.
"It is of no use searching," she said; "they have been gone an hour."
"Gone an hour!" shouted the enraged jemadar; "who told them of the
attack?"
"I told them," Saba said steadily; "Saba was true to her salt."
There was a yell of rage on the part of the mutineers, and half a dozen
bayonets darted into the faithful old servant's body, and without a
word she fell dead on the veranda, a victim to her noble fidelity to
the children she had nursed.
"Now," the jemadar said, "strip the place; carry everything off; it is
all to be divided to-morrow, and then we will have a blaze."
Five minutes sufficed to carry off all the portable articles from the
bungalow; the furniture, as useless to the Sepoys, was left, but
everything else was soon cleared away, and then the house was lit in
half a dozen places. The fire ran quickly up the muslin curtains,
caught the dry reeds of the tatties, ran up the bamboos which formed
the top of the veranda, and in five minutes the house was a sheet of
flame.
CHAPTER III.
THE FLIGHT.
The young Warreners and their cousin, hurrying on, soon gained the
thick bush toward which they were directing their steps. As they
cowered down in its shelter the girls pulled their shawls over their
heads, and with their hands to their ears to keep out the noise of the
awful din around them, they awaited, in shuddering horror, their fate.
The boys sat, revolver in hand, determined to sell their lives dearly.
Ned translated the jemadar's speech, and at his order to search the
compound both felt that all was over, and, with a grasp of each other's
hand, prepared to sally forth and die. Then came Saba's act of noble
self-sacrifice, and the boys had difficulty in restraining themselves
from rushing out to avenge her.
In the meantime the night was hideous with noises; musket shots, the
sharp cracks of revolvers, shouts, cries, and at times the long shrill
screams of women. It was too much to be borne, and feeling that for the
present Saba's act had saved them, the boys, laying down their weapons,
pressed their hands to their ears to keep out the din. There they sat
for half an hour, stunned by the awful calamity, too horror-stricken at
what had passed, and at the probable fate of their father, to find
relief in tears.
At the end of that time the fire had burned itself out, and a few
upright posts still flickering with tongues of fire, and a heap of
glowing embers marked where the pretty bungalow, replete with every
luxury and comfort, had stood an hour before.
Dick was the first to move; he touched Ned's arm.
"All is quiet here now, but they may take it into their heads to come
back and search. We had better make for the trees; by keeping close to
that cactus hedge we shall be in shadow all the way."
The girls were roused from their stupor of grief.
"Now, dears, we must be brave," said Ned, "and carry out our orders.
God has protected us thus far; let us pray that He will continue to do
so."
In another five minutes the little party, stealing cautiously out from
their shelter, kept along close to the wall to a side door, through
which they issued forth into the open. Ten steps took them to the
cactus hedge, and stooping low under its shelter, they moved on till
they safely reached the clump of trees.
For some time the little party crouched among the thick bushes, the
silence broken only by the sobs of the girls. Ned and Richard said
nothing, but the tears fell fast down their cheeks. The crackling of
the flames of many of the burning bungalows could be distinctly heard;
and outside the shadow of the trees it was nearly as light as day.
Yells of triumph rose on the night air, but there was no firing or
sounds of conflict, and resistance was plainly over. For a quarter of
an hour they sat there, crushed with the immensity of the calamity.
Then Ned roused himself and took the lead.
"Now, dears, the fires have burned down, and we must be moving, for we
should be far away from here before morning. No doubt others have
hidden in the woods round this place, and those black fiends will be
searching everywhere to-morrow. Remember what our orders are;" and he
paused for a moment to choke down the sob which would come when he
thought of who had given the order, and how it was given. "We were to
make for Meerut. Be strong and brave, girls, as father would have had
you. I have gone over the course on the district map, and I think I can
keep pretty straight for it. We need not change our clothes now; we can
do that when we halt before daylight. We must walk all night, to be as
far as possible away before the search begins. We know this country
pretty well for some miles round, which will make it easier. Come,
girls, take heart; it is possible yet that some of the officers have
cut their way out, and our father may be among them. Who can say?"
"I knew that he had talked over with Dunlop and Manners the very best
course to take whenever they might be attacked," Dick said in a more
cheerful tone, "so they were sure to keep together, and if any one has
got away, they would." Neither of the boys had at heart the least hope,
but they spoke as cheerfully as they could, to give strength and
courage to the girls. Their words had their effect. Kate rose, and
taking her cousin's arm said:
"Come, Rose, the boys are right. There is still some hope; let us cling
to it as long as we can. Now let us be moving: but before we go, let us
all thank God for having saved us from harm so far, and let us pray for
His protection and help upon the road."
Silently the little group knelt in prayer, and when they rose followed
Ned--who had naturally assumed the position of leader--out into the
open country beyond the grove, without a word being spoken. The moon
was as yet quite young, a favorable state for the fugitives, as it
afforded light enough to see where they were going without giving so
bright a light as to betray them to any one at a distance.
"The moon will be down in a couple of hours," Ned said; "but by that
time we shall be beyond where any sentries are likely to have been
placed on the road, so we can then trust ourselves on that till it
begins to get daylight. We must keep in the fields till we are past
Nussara, which is five miles by the road; then we can walk straight on.
There is a nullah a few yards on; we had better keep in that for a
quarter of a mile; it does not go quite the way we want, but it will be
safer to follow it till we are well out of sight of any one who may be
watching the plain."
They scrambled down into the bed of the nullah. Then Kate said, "Walk
on as fast as you can, Ned; we can keep up with you, and if we hurry on
we shan't be able to think."
"All right," Ned answered; "I will go fast for a bit, but you must not
knock yourselves up; we have a long journey before us."
Walking fast, however, was impossible at the bottom of the nullah, for
it was pitch dark between its steep banks, and there were bowlders and
stones lying here and there. After half an hour's walking Ned scrambled
up and looked back.
"It is quite safe now," he said; "let us make as straight as we can for
Nussara."
Kate Warrener and Rose Hertford have never been able to recall any
incidents of that night's walk. Mechanically, as in a dreadful dream,
they followed Ned's guidance, stumbling across little watercourses,
tramping through marshy rice-fields, climbing into and out of deep
nullahs, now pausing to listen to the barking of a village dog, now
making their way through a thick clump of trees, and at last tramping
for hours--that seemed ages--along the dead flat of the highroad. This
at the first faint dawn of morning they left, and took refuge in a
thick grove a quarter of a mile from the highway. Before throwing
themselves down to rest, the girls, at Ned's earnest request, tried to
eat a piece of biscuit, but tried in vain, they, however, each sipped a
little wine from the bottles, and then, utterly worn out and exhausted,
soon forgot their misery in a deep and heavy sleep.
The sun was upon the point of setting when their companions aroused
them, and they woke up to their sorrows and dangers. The day had passed
quietly; the boys, after both sleeping for some four or five hours, had
watched by turns. No one had approached the wood; but a party of four
Sepoys, mounted on horses, had passed from Sandynugghur; and a larger
party had, later in the afternoon, come along in the other direction.
From this the boys guessed that a successful revolt had also taken
place at Nalgwa, the next station to Sandynugghur.
"Now, girls, the first thing to do is to eat. Here are biscuits for
some days, and the two bottles of wine, which we must be sparing of.
Dick and I have eaten lots of biscuits, and have had some water from a
well at a little distance behind the wood. There was a large gourd
lying by it which we have taken the liberty of borrowing. You can drink
some water if you like, but you must each take a glass of wine. You
must keep up your strength. There is no one in sight, so if you like
you can go to the well and have a wash. Don't be longer than you can
help; it would be ruin to be seen before we have changed our clothes.
While you are away washing, Dick and I will put on our dresses, and
when you come back you can do the same. We can stain our faces and
hands afterward."
The girls chose to have their wash first and their meal afterward, and
felt refreshed and brighter after they had done so. Then they dressed
in the clothes Saba had provided for them, and could, at any other
time, have laughed at the comicality of their aspect, muffled up in
white, with only their eyes visible. The awkward shoes were the only
part of the costume to which they objected; but the sight of European
boots below the native dress would have betrayed them instantly;
however, they determined to adopt them for walking in at nights, or
when crossing the fields, and to put the native shoes in a bundle, to
be worn in public.
The boys presently joined them, Ned in the dress of a young Mussulman
zemindar, Dick as his follower.
"I should not have known you in the least," Rose said; "as far as
appearances go, I think we are all safe now."
When it was quite dark they again started, regained the road, and kept
steadily along it. After two hours' walking they approached a village.
After some consultation it was decided that Dick, whose dress was the
darkest and least noticeable, should steal forward and reconnoiter. If
every one was indoors they would push boldly through; if not, they
would make a circuit round it. In ten minutes he returned.
"Ned, there are two troopers' horses standing before the largest house
of the place. I suppose they belong to some of the men of the cavalry
regiment at Nalgwa. If we could but steal them!"
"Splendid, Dick; why should we not? I can get on one, you on the other;
one of the girls can sit behind each of us, with her arms round our
waists. What do you say, girls? With our dress it would be natural for
us to be on horseback, and no one would ask any questions. We are
pretty safe, because if they come out there are but two of them, and we
are more than a match for them with our pistols."
"It seems a terrible risk to run, Ned; but I do think it would be our
best plan. What do you say, Rose?"
"I think we had better try, Kate."
"Now let us settle everything before we start," said Ned. "We must
mount first, I think, that we may be able to help you more easily; and
you would have less risk of falling off if you get up in front of us.
We can change when we have gone half a mile. Will you stand close to
Dick, Kate, when he mounts; Rose, you keep close to me. The moment we
are fairly in the saddle, and have got the reins in our hands, you put
your foot on mine, and take hold of my hand, and climb up in the saddle
in front of me. Put your arms round our necks and hold us, because we
shall want one hand for the reins, the other for a pistol."
"Let us cut a stick, Ned, to give them a lick and make them start at a
gallop."
Very gently, and with bated breath, they stole up the village. The
horses were still standing with their reins thrown over a hook in the
wall. Very quietly the boys unhooked the reins, but the horses moved
uneasily, and objected to their mounting them, for horses accustomed to
natives dislike to be touched by Europeans. However, the boys had just
managed to climb into their seats when a shutter of the house opened,
and a voice said in Hindostanee, "What is fidgeting the horses?" Then a
head looked out.
"Some one is stealing the horses," he shouted.
"Quick, girls, up with you," Ned said; and the girls, as light as
feathers, sprang up. "Go along," the boys cried, bringing down their
sticks on the animals' sides. Dick's at once leaped forward, but Ned's
horse only backed. Ned gave his stick to Rose and seized his pistol,
which was cocked and ready for use. As he did so a native trooper
rushed from the house. As he came out Ned fired, and the man fell
forward on his face.
Startled by the shot, the horse darted off after his companion. For a
few minutes they went forward at a gallop, the boys holding on as well
as they could, but expecting every moment to be thrown off. For awhile
shouts and cries were heard from the village, and then all was quiet
again. The two boys reined in their horses.
"That was awful," Dick said; "I would rather sit on the yardarm in a
storm than ride on that beast any further at the pace we have been
going."
The girls had not spoken a word since they started, and they now
slipped to the ground. It was not an easy thing for them to get up
behind, and several slips were made before their attempts were
successful. Once seated, they were more comfortable, and they again
went on, this time at an easy canter. After half an hour's ride they
came to a crossroad, and turned up there, going now at a walk. After
awhile they took a well-marked path running in a parallel direction to
the road; this they followed for some time, passing fearlessly through
one or two small villages.
Then, feeling by the flagging walk of their horses that they were
becoming fatigued, they plunged deep into a thick wood, dismounted, and
prepared for the night. Attached to the saddle of each horse was a
nose-bag with some forage. These were put on, the horses fastened up,
and the little party were soon asleep again.
Before starting next morning the first care of the boys was to take off
the embroidery of the horse-cloths, and as much of the metal work on
the bridles as could be possibly dispensed with, in order to conceal
the fact that the horses had belonged to a British cavalry regiment;
then they mounted, with the girls behind them, and rode quietly
forward, taking care not to travel by the main road, as the news of the
carrying off the horses would have been generally known there.
They passed through several villages, attracting but little attention
as they did so, for there was now nothing unusual in the appearance of
a Mohammedan zemindar and follower riding with two closely-veiled women
_en croupe_. Late in the afternoon they stopped at a village store, and
Ned purchased, without exciting any apparent suspicion, some grain for
the horses. That night they slept as usual in a wood, and congratulated
themselves on having made fully twenty-five miles of their journey
toward Meerut.
The next morning, after two miles' riding, they entered a large
village. As they were passing through it a number of peasants suddenly
rushed out into the road, and shouted to them to stop. They were armed
with sticks and hoes, and a few had guns. Looking behind, Ned saw a
similar body fill up the road behind them, cutting off their escape.
"Look, Ned, at that old fellow with the gun; that's the man who sold us
the grain last night," Dick said.
"We must charge them, Dick; there's nothing else to do. Hold tight,
girls. Now for your revolver, Dick! Now!"
And, digging their heels into their horses' side, the boys rode at the
crowd of peasants. There was a discharge of guns, and Dick felt as if a
hot iron had been drawn suddenly across his cheek; then they were in
the midst of the crowd, emptying their revolvers with deadly effect
among them; some fell, and the horses dashed forward, followed by the
yells of their assailants. A minute later three or four more guns were
discharged, the rear party having now joined the other, and being
therefore able for the first time to fire.
Dick heard a little startled cry from Kate.
"Are you hurt, darling?" he cried in alarm.
"Nothing to speak of, Dick. Ride on."
In a quarter of a mile they drew rein, and found that a ball had passed
through the upper part of Kate's arm, as it went round Dick's body.
Fortunately it had gone through the flesh only, without touching the
bone. Dick was bleeding copiously from a wound across the cheek.
"Another two inches to the right," he said, "and it would have taken me
fairly in the mouth. It's well it's no worse."
Kate's arm was soon bandaged up, and a handkerchief tied round Dick's
face. Ned proposed that for Kate's sake they should make a halt at the
first wood they came to, but Kate would not hear of it.
"On the contrary, Ned, we ought to press forward as hard as we can, for
it is very possible that at that village where we were recognized--I
suppose because they had heard about the horses--they may have
dispatched people to the main road, as well as further on to stop us
here; and we may be pursued at any moment, if there happens to be any
native cavalry upon the road. Evidently they are very much in earnest
about catching us, and have sent word to look after four people on two
horses all over the country, or they could not have known about it at
the village yesterday evening."
"I am afraid you are right, Kate; if we could turn off this road I
should not fear, but the river cannot be far to our right, and the main
road is to our left. There is nothing for it but to press straight on.
Fortunately, the country is not thickly populated, and there is a good
deal of jungle. If the worst comes to the worst, we must leave our
horses and go on foot again. I fear that is more fatiguing for you, but
we can hide ourselves a good deal better."
It was late in the afternoon when Rose cried. "They are coming, Ned;
there is a party of cavalry behind!"
Ned looked round; and far back, along the straight road, he saw a body
of horsemen.
"They are a long distance behind," he said; "now for a race!"
The boys plied their sticks, and the horses sprang on at full gallop.
"How much are they gaining, Rose?" he asked, after twenty minutes' hard
riding.
"They are nearer, Ned--a good deal nearer; but they have not gained
half their distance yet."
"The sun set fully ten minutes ago," Ned said; "in another half-hour it
will be dark. Their horses must be done up, or they would gain faster
on us, as ours have to carry double, and are getting terribly blown;
but there is a wood, which looks a large one, a couple of miles ahead.
If we can get there five minutes before them, we are safe."
By dint of flogging their horses they entered the wood while their
pursuers were half a mile behind.
"Another hundred yards," Ned said, "and then halt. Now, off we get."
In an instant they leaped off, and gave a couple of sharp blows with
their sticks to the horses, who dashed off at a gallop down the road.
It was already perfectly dark in the wood, and the fugitives hurried
into the thickest part. In five minutes they heard the cavalry come
thundering past.
"We must push on," Ned said; "fortunately, we have done no walking, for
we must be far away by to-morrow morning. They will come up with the
horses before very long, and will know we are in the wood, and they
will search it through and through in the morning."
A quarter of a mile, and the wood grew thicker, being filled with an
undergrowth of jungle.
"If you will stop here, Ned, I will push on through this jungle, and
see how far it goes. The girls can never get through this. I think we
are near the edge of the wood; it looks lighter ahead."
In ten minutes he came back.
"Ned, we are on the river; it is not fifty yards from here."
This was serious news.
"What a pity we did not take to the left instead of the right when we
left the horses. However, they won't know which way we have gone, and
must watch the whole wood. We must push forward, and, by keeping as
close as we can to the river, shall most likely pass them; besides,
they will be some time before they decide upon forming a chain round
the wood, and as there are only about twenty of them they will be a
long way apart. There! Do you hear them? They are coming back! Now let
us go on again!"
In ten minutes they reached the edge of the wood. They could see
nothing of the horsemen. Keeping in the fields, but close to the line
of jungle that bordered the river, they walked onward for upward of an
hour. Then they came upon the road. The river had made a bend, and the
road now followed its bank.
"Shall we cross it, and keep in the open country, or follow it, girls?"
"Follow it as long as we can keep on walking," Kate said. "It is in the
right direction, and we can go on so much faster than in the fields. If
we hear them coming along we can get into the jungle on the bank."
"Listen, Kate," Rose said a few minutes afterward; "they are following!"
"I expect," Ned said, "they find that the wood is too big to be
watched, and some of them are going on to get some help from the next
garrison, or, perhaps, to rouse up a village and press them in the
work. Trot on, girls; the jungle is so thick here you could hardly
squeeze yourself in. We have plenty of time; they won't be here for
five minutes yet."
CHAPTER IV.
BROKEN DOWN.
They ran at the top of their speed, but the sound of the horses' feet
grew louder.
"There is a path leading to the river," Ned said; "let us turn down
there; we can hide under the jungle on the bank."
Breathlessly they ran down to the river.
"Hurrah! here is a boat, jump in;" and in another minute they had
pushed off from the bank, just as they heard a body of cavalry--for
that they were troops they knew by the jingling of their
accouterments--pass at a gallop. The stream was strong; and the boys
found that with the rude oars they could make no way whatever.
"We had better land again, and get further from the river," Ned said.
"We will push the boat off, and it will be supposed that we have gone
off in it."
This was soon done, and having regained the road, they crossed it and
struck over the fields.
The moon, which had been hitherto hidden under a passing cloud, was
soon out fully, and for some time they kept across the country,
carefully avoiding all villages. These were here more thinly scattered;
patches of jungle and wood occurred more frequently; and it was evident
that they were getting into a less highly cultivated district. It was
long before daybreak that Rose declared that she was too fatigued to go
further, and they entered a large wood. Here they lay down, and were
soon fast asleep. It was broad daylight when the Warreners woke. Rose
still slept on.
Presently Kate came to her brothers. "I am afraid Rose is going to be
ill. She keeps talking and moaning in her sleep; her face is flushed,
and her hands as hot as fire."
As they were looking sadly at her she opened her eyes.
"Is it time to get up?" she asked. "Oh, my head! it is aching terribly.
Is the trap at the door?"
Then she closed her eyes again, and went on talking incoherently to
herself.
"She has fever," Kate said, "and we must get her under shelter, at
whatever risk."
"I heard a dog bark not far off, just as I went to sleep," Ned said. "I
will go and reconnoiter. Dick, you had better stay here."
Dick nodded, and Ned advanced cautiously to the edge of the wood. There
he saw a farmhouse of a better class than usual. Three peons were just
starting for work, and an elderly man with a long beard was standing at
the door. Then he went in, and after a few minutes reappeared with a
long staff in his hands, and went out into the fields. He did not,
however, follow the direction which the peons had taken, but took a
line parallel with the edge of the wood. "He looks a decent old
fellow," Ned said to himself; "I can but try; at any rate, at the worst
I am more than a match for him."
So saying, he stepped out into the field. The farmer started with
surprise at seeing a young Mussulman appear before him.
"I am English," Ned said at once. "I think you are kind by your face,
and I tell you the truth. There are two English girls in the wood, and
one is ill. We can go no further. Will you give them shelter?"
The old man stood for some time in thought.
"I have no complaint against the Feringhees," he said; "in my fathers
time the country was red with blood, but all my life I have eaten my
bread in peace, and no man has injured me. Where are the English
ladies?"
Ned led the way to the spot where Rose was still lying. The old man
looked at her flushed face, and then at Kate, and said:
"The English ladies have suffered much, and can have done harm to no
one. I will shelter them. My wife and daughter will nurse the sick one.
They will be in the women's chamber, and my servants will not know that
there is a stranger there. I believe that they would be faithful, but
one who knows nothing can tell no tales. On the other side of the wood
there is a shed. It is empty now, and none go near it. The English
sahibs can live there, and each day I will bring them food. When their
sister is well they can go on again."
Ned translated the old man's words, and Kate, who was kneeling by Rose,
caught his hand and kissed it in her gratitude. He patted her head and
said, "Poor child!"
"How are we to carry Rose? I don't think she can walk," Kate asked.
The farmer solved the difficulty by motioning them to stay where they
were. He then went off, and in ten minutes returned, bearing a dried
bullock's skin. On this Rose was laid. The Hindoo took the two ends at
her feet, the boys each one of those by her head, and then, slung as in
a hammock, Rose was carried to the house, where the wife and daughter
of their host, prepared by him for what was coming, received them with
many expressions of pity, and she was at once carried into the inner
room. The farmer then placed before the boys two bowls of milk and some
freshly made chupatties, and then gave them some food for the day. With
an expression of fervent gratitude to him, and a kiss from Kate, who
came out to tell them that Rose would be well nursed and cared for, the
boys started for the hut in the direction the Hindoo pointed out to
them. It was a small building, and had apparently been at some time
used as a cattle shed. The floor was two feet deep in fodder of the
stalks of Indian corn. Above was a sort of rough loft, in which grain
had been stored.
The boys at once agreed that, to prevent suspicion, it was safer to
occupy this, and they soon transferred enough of the fodder from below
to make a comfortable bed. Then, feeling secure from discovery, even if
by chance some passer-by should happen to glance into the shed, they
were soon deep in a sounder sleep than they had enjoyed since they left
Sandynugghur.
The next day, when the old man came to see them, he was accompanied by
Kate. She looked pale and wan.
"How is Rose?" was their first question.
"She is as bad as she can be, dears. She has been delirious all night,
and is so this morning. I did not like to leave her for a moment. But
this kind old man wanted me to go with him, as I think he has something
to say to you."
"Have you any news?" Ned asked him.
"My servants tell me that the Sepoys are searching the whole country,
some of the officers have escaped from Sandynugghur, and also from
Nalgwa, where the troops rose on the same night; some of the residents
have escaped also. There is a reward offered for them alive or dead,
and any one hiding them is to be punished with death. The white lady is
very ill. She is in the hand of God; she may get better, she may die.
If she gets better it will be weeks before she can go through the
hardships of the journey to Meerut. I think it better that you should
go on alone; the white ladies will be as my daughters. I have told my
servants that my daughter is ill, so that if they hear cries and voices
at night they will think that it is she who is in pain. You can do no
good here. If the woods are searched you may be found; if you are found
they will search everywhere closely, and may find them. I will hide
them here safely. The orders are, I hear, that the captives taken are
to be carried to Delhi; but if they should be found I will myself
journey to Meerut to bring you the news. You will give me your names,
and I will find you; then you may get help and rescue them on the way."
Ned translated the old man's opinion and kind offer to his brother and
sister, and said that he was very unwilling to leave the girls--a
sentiment in which Dick heartily joined.
Kate, however, at once expressed her warm approval of the plan.
"It will be weeks, dears, before Rose can walk again, and I shall have
an anxious time with her. It would add greatly to my anxiety if I knew
that you were near, and might at any time be captured and killed. If
dear papa has escaped he will be in a terrible state of anxiety about
us, and you could relieve him if you can join him at Meerut, and tell
him how kindly we are treated here. Altogether, boys, it would be so
much better for you to go; for if the Sepoys do come, you could not
defend us against more than two or three, and they are sure to come in
a stronger party than that."
In spite of their disinclination to leave the girls without such
protection as they could give them, the boys saw that the course
advised was the best to be pursued, and told their Hindoo friend that
they agreed to follow his counsel, thanking him in the warmest terms
for his kindness.
He advised them to leave their Mohammedan dresses behind, and to dress
in the simple costume of Hindoo peons, with which he could supply them.
They would then attract far less attention, and could even by day pass
across the fields without any comment whatever from the natives at work
there, who would naturally suppose that they belonged to some village
near at hand. "Englishmen could not do this," he said; "too much leg,
too much arm, too much width of shoulders; but boys are thinner, and no
one will notice the difference. In half an hour I will come back with
the things." Ned gave him the rest of the berries, which they had
preserved, and asked him to boil them up in a little water, as they
would now have to color their bodies and arms and legs, in addition to
their faces.
It was a sad parting between Kate and her brothers, for all felt that
they might never meet again. Still the course decided upon was, under
the circumstances, evidently the best that could be adopted.
In an hour the Hindoo returned. The boys took off their clothes, and
stained themselves a deep brown from head to foot. The farmer then
produced a razor and a bowl of water and some soap, and said that they
must shave their hair off their heads, up to a level with the top of
the ears, so as to leave only that which could be concealed by their
turban. This, with some laughter--the first time they had smiled since
they left Sandynugghur--they proceeded to do to each other, and the
skin thus exposed they dyed the same color as the rest of the body.
They then each put on a scanty loincloth, and wrapping a large piece of
dark blue cotton stuff first round their waists and then over one
shoulder, their costume was complete, with the exception of a pair of
sandals and a white turban. The old Hindoo surveyed them gravely when
their attire was completed, and expressed his belief that they would
pass without exciting the slightest suspicion. Their pistols were a
trouble. They were determined that, come what might, they would not go
without these, and they were finally slung behind them from a strap
passing round the waist under the loin-cloth; the spare ammunition and
a supply of biscuit were stowed in stout cotton bags, with which their
friend provided them, and which hung by a band passing over one
shoulder. Their money and a box of matches they secured in a corner of
their clothes. A couple of stout staves completed their outfit.
Bidding a grateful farewell to their friendly Hindoo, the boys started
on their journey. The sandals they found so difficult to keep on that
they took them off and carried them, except when they were passing over
stony ground. They kept to bypaths and avoided all villages.
Occasionally they met a native, but either they passed him without
speech, or Ned muttered a salutation in answer to that of the passer.
All day they walked, and far into the night. They had no fear of
missing their way, as the road on one hand and the river on the other
both ran to Meerut; and although these were sometimes ten miles apart,
they served as a fair index as to the line they should take. The
biscuits, eked out with such grain as they could pluck as they crossed
the fields, lasted for two days; but at the end of that time it became
necessary to seek another supply of food.
"I don't know what to ask for, Dick; and those niggers always chatter
so much that I should have to answer, and then I should be found out
directly. I think we must try some quiet huts at a distance from the
road."
The wood in which they that night slept was near three or four
scattered huts. In the morning they waited and watched for a long time
until one of the cottages was, as far as they could judge, deserted,
all its inmates being gone out to work in the fields. They then entered
it boldly. It was empty. On hunting about they found some chupatties
which had apparently been newly baked, a store of rice and of several
other grains. They took the chupatties, five or six pounds of rice, and
a little copper cooking-pot. They placed in a conspicuous position two
rupees, which were more than equivalent to the value of the things they
had taken, and went on their way rejoicing.
At midday they sat down, lit a fire with some dried sticks, and put
their rice in the pot to boil. As Ned was stooping to pick up a stick
he was startled by a simultaneous cry of "Look out!" from Dick, and a
sharp hiss; and looking up, saw, three or four feet ahead of him, a
cobra, with its hood inflated, and its head raised in the very act of
springing. Just as it was darting itself forward Dick's stick came down
with a sharp tap on its head and killed it.
"That was a close shave, Ned," the boy said, laughing; "if you had
stooped he would have bit you on the face. What would have been the
best thing to do if he had bitten you?"
"The best thing is to suck the wound instantly, to take out a knife and
cut deeply in, and then, as we have no vesuvians, I should break up
half a dozen pistol cartridges, put the powder into and on the wound,
and set it alight. I believe that that is what they do in some parts of
Eastern Europe in the case of the bites of mad dogs; and this, if no
time is lost after the bite is given, is almost always effectual in
keeping off hydrophobia."
"Well, Ned, I am very thankful that we had not to put the virtue of the
receipt to a practical test."
"Would you like to eat the snake, Dick? I believe that snake is not at
all bad eating."
"Thank you," Dick said, "I will take it on trust. We have got rice; and
although I am not partial to rice it will do very well. If we could
have got nothing else we might have tried the snake; but as it is, I
had rather not. Two more days, Ned, and we shall be at Meerut. The old
Hindoo said it was a hundred miles, and we go twenty-five a day, even
with all our bends and turns to get out of the way of villages."
"Yes, I should think we do quite that, Dick. We walk from daylight to
sunset, and often two or three hours by moonlight; and though we don't
go very fast, we ought to get over a lot of ground. Listen! There is
music!" Both held their breath. "Yes, there are the regular beats of a
big drum. It is on the highroad, I should say, nearly abreast of us. If
we go to that knoll we shall have a view of them; and there cannot be
the least danger, as they must be fully a mile away."
Upon gaining the rise in question they saw a regiment in scarlet,
winding along the road.
"Are they mutineers, Dick, or British?"
It was more than any one could say. Mounted officers rode at the head
of the regiment; perfect order was to be observed in its marching;
there was nothing that in any way differed from its ordinary aspect.
"Let us go back and get our rice and lota, Dick. We can't afford to
lose that; and if we go at a trot for a couple of miles we can get
round into some trees near the road, where we can see their faces. If
the mounted officers are white it is all right; if not, they are
mutineers."
Half an hour's trot brought them to such a point of vantage as they
desired. Crouched in some bushes at the edge of a clump of trees, not
fifty yards from the road, they awaited the passage of the regiment.
They had not been in their hiding-place five minutes when the head of
the column appeared.
"They march in very good order, Ned; do you think that they would keep
up such discipline as that after they had mutinied?"
"I don't know. Dirk; but they'll want all their discipline when they
come to meet our men. For anything we know we may be the two last white
men left in India; but when the news gets to England there will be such
a cry throughout the land that, if it needed a million men to win back
the country, I believe they would be found and sent out. There! There
are two mounted officers; I can't see their color, but I don't think
they are white."
"No, Ned; I am sure they are not white; then they must be mutineers.
Look! Look! Don't you see they have got three prisoners? There they
are, marching in the middle of that column; they are officers; and oh!
Ned! I do think that the middle one's father." And the excited boy,
with tears of joy running down his cheeks, would have risen and dashed
out had not Ned forcibly detained him.
"Hush! Dick! and keep quiet. Yes! It is father! and Dunlop and Manners.
Thank God!" he said, in deep gratitude.
"Well, let's go to them, Ned; we may as well be all together."
"Keep quiet, Dick," the elder said, holding him down again; "you will
destroy their chance as well as ours. We must rescue them if we can."
"How, Ned, how?"
"I don't know yet, Dick; but we must wait and see; anyhow, we will try.
There goes the bugle for a halt. I expect they have done their day's
march. Come on, Dick; we must get out of this. When they have once
pitched their tents they will scatter about, and, as likely as not,
some will come into this wood. Let us get further back, so as to be
able to see them pitch their tents, and watch, if we can, where they
put the prisoners."
The regiment piled arms, and waited until the bullock-carts came up
with the tents. These were taken out and pitched on the other side of
the road, and facing the wood. The ground being marked out, the men
were told off to their quarters, and the poles of the tents aligned
with as much regularity and exactness as could have been used when the
regiment possessed its white officers.
Near the quarter-guard tent--that is, the tent of the men engaged upon
actual duty--a small square tent was erected; and into this the three
officers, who were handcuffed, were thrust; and two sentries, one in
front, the other at the back of the tent, were placed.
"Now, Dick, we know all about it; let us get further away, and talk
over how it is to be managed."
The task was one of extreme difficulty, and the boys were a long time
arranging the details. Had there been but one sentry, the matter would
have been easy enough: but with two sentries, and with the quarter
guard close at hand, it seemed at first as if no possible scheme could
be hit upon. The sentry at the back of the tent must be the one to be
disposed of, and this must be done so noiselessly as not to alarm the
man in front. Each marched backward and forward some eight paces to the
right, and as much to the left, of the tent, halting occasionally. When
both marched right and left at the same time, they were in sight of
each other except during the time of passing before and behind the
tent; when they walked alternately, the tent hid them altogether from
each other.
"I suppose there is no chance of our being able to gag that fellow,
Ned? It's horrid to think of killing a man in cold blood."
"There is no help for it, Dick. If he were alone, we might gag him; as
it is, he must be killed. These scoundrels are all mutineers and
murderers. This regiment has, no doubt, like the others, killed its
officers, and all the men, women, and children at the station. I would
not kill the man unless it could be helped, but our father's life
depends upon it; and to save him I would, if there were no other way,
cut the throats of the whole regiment while they were asleep! This is
no ordinary war, Dick; it is a struggle for existence; and though I'm
sure I hate the thought of it, I shall not hesitate for an instant."
"I shan't hesitate," the midshipman said; "but I wish the fellow could
make a fight of it. However, as he would kill me if he had a chance, he
mustn't grumble if I do the same for him. Now, Ned, you tell me exactly
what I am to do, and you may rely on my doing it."
Every minute detail of the scheme was discussed and arranged; and then,
as the sun set, the boys lit a fire in a nullah and boiled some rice,
and ate their food with lighter hearts than they had done since they
left Sandynugghur, for the knowledge that their father had escaped
death had lifted a heavy burden from their hearts. As to the danger of
the expedition that they were about to undertake, with the happy
recklessness of boys they thought but little of it.
Across the plain they could see the campfires, but as the evening went
on these gradually died away, and the sounds which had come faintly
across the still night air ceased altogether. As patiently as might be,
they waited until they guessed that it must be about ten o'clock. The
night was, for the country, cold--a favorable circumstance, as the
natives, who are very chilly, would be less likely to leave their tents
if they felt restless. The moon was now half full and shining brightly,
giving a light with which the boys could well have dispensed.
"Now, Dick, old boy, let's be moving. May God help us in our night's
work!"
They made a considerable detour to approach the camp in the rear, where
they rightly judged that the Sepoys, having no fear whatever of any
hostile body being near, would have placed no sentries.
"Listen!" Dick said, as they were pausing to reconnoiter; "that sounded
like a cannon in the far distance."
There was no doubt of it; faintly, but quite distinct, across the air
came the sound of heavy cannon fired at regular intervals.
"Those cannon must be fired as a salute to some great chief newly
arrived at Delhi--we should not fire so late, but I suppose they are
not particular," Ned said; "we calculated it was not more than
twenty-five miles off, and we should hear them at that distance easily.
We had better wait a few minutes to see if any one comes out to listen
to it."
But there was no movement among the white tents. Then they stole
quietly into the camp.
The tents of the Indian native regiments are large, oblong tents, with
two poles, holding thirty men each. They are manufactured at the
government prison at Jubbalpore, and are made of thick cotton canvas,
lined with red or blue cotton. In the daytime they open right along one
side, the wall of the tent being propped outward, with two slight
poles, so as to form a sort of veranda, and shade the inside of the
tent while admitting the air. At night-time, in the cool season, this
flap is let down and the tent closed. In front of the tents the muskets
of the men inside are piled.
Into one of these tents Dick crawled, Ned watching outside. When Dick
first entered it was so dark that he could see nothing; but the
moonlight penetrated dimly through the double cotton, and he was soon
able to discover objects around. The ground was all occupied by
sleeping figures, each wrapped up from head to foot in his blanket,
looking like so many mummies. Their uniforms were folded, and placed
between their heads and the wall of the tent. Six of these, with the
same number of caps, and six ammunition pouches and belts, and a
uniform cloak, taken carefully off one of the sleepers, Dick collected
and passed out through the door of the tent to Ned. Not a sleeper
stirred while he did so, and he crept quietly out, with the first part
of his task accomplished. Gathering the things together, the boys made
all speed back to a clump of trees half a mile in the rear of the camp.
Here Ned put on one of the uniforms and the cloak, and they then
started back again for the camp.
The sentries upon the prisoners' tent were changed at twelve o'clock,
and a few minutes later the sentry at the rear of the tent saw one of
his comrades come out of one of the large tents close to the end of his
beat. He was wrapped in his blanket, and his face was tied up with a
cloth. Coughing violently, he squatted himself in front of his tent,
and rocked himself to and fro, with his hands to his face, uttering
occasional groans. This was all so natural--for the natives of India
suffer much from neuralgia in the cold weather--that the sentry thought
nothing of the matter. He continued to pace his beat, turning back each
time when within a yard or two of the sufferer. The third time he did
so the figure dropped off his blanket, and, with a sudden bound, threw
himself on the sentry's back; at the same moment a Sepoy in uniform
darted out from the tent. One hand of the assailant--in which was a
damp cloth--was pressed tightly over the mouth and nostrils of the
sentry; the other grasped the lock of his musket, so that it could not
be discharged. Thrown backward off his balance, taken utterly by
surprise, the sentry was unable even to struggle, and in an instant the
second antagonist plunged a bayonet twice into his body, and he fell a
lifeless mass on the ground. It was the work of an instant to drag the
body a yard or two into the shadow of the tent, and before the other
sentry appeared from the opposite side of the prisoner's tent the
native was rocking himself as before; the sentry, wrapped in his cloak,
was marching calmly on his beat. The whole affair had lasted but twenty
seconds, and had passed as noiselessly as a dream.
The next time the sentry in front was hidden from view the native
started from his sitting position and stole up behind the tent.
Cautiously and quietly he cut a slit in the canvas and entered. Then he
knelt down by the side of one of the sleepers, and kissed him. He moved
in his sleep, and his disturber, putting his hand on his mouth to
prevent sudden speech, shook him gently. The major opened his eyes.
"Father, it is I--Richard; hush! do not speak."
Then, as the bewildered man gradually understood what was said, his son
fell on his neck, kissing him with passionate delight.
After the first rapturous joy of the recognition was over, "Ned and the
girls?" Major Warrener asked.
"The girls are at present safe," Dick said; "Ned is outside behind. He
is the sentry. Now, father, wake the others, and then let us steal off.
Take off your boots; the men's tents are only ten yards behind; once
there, you are safe. I will let Ned know when you are ready, and he
will occupy the sentry. We can't silence him, because he is within
sight of the sentry of the quarter-guard."
Major Warrener aroused his sleeping companions, and in a few whispered
words told them what had happened. In silence they wrung Dick's hand,
and then taking off their boots, stole one by one out of the tent. As
Ned passed he exchanged a silent embrace with his father. The next time
the sentry in front was passing before the tent, a heavy stone, hurled
by Ned, crashed into a bush upon the other side of the road. The sentry
halted instantly, and, with gun advanced, listened, but he could hear
nothing, for his comrade was at that instant seized with a fit of
coughing.
After standing in a listening attitude for three or four minutes the
Sepoy supposed that the noise must have been caused by some large bird
suddenly disturbed in the foliage.
"Did you hear anything?" he asked Ned, as their path crossed.
"Nothing," Ned answered, continuing his march.
For another quarter of an hour he passed backward and forward, his only
fear being that the sentry might take it into his head to open the tent
and look in to see if the prisoners were safe. In a quarter of an hour
he knew that the fugitives would have gained the trees, and would have
time to put on the Sepoy uniforms before he reached them; and also, by
the aid of a couple of large stones, have got rid of their handcuffs,
lie might therefore be off to join them.
Waiting till the sentry was at the other end of his beat, he slipped
round the tent, stripped off his cloak, lay down his musket and
belt--for Dick had arranged that they should carry off five muskets in
their retreat--threw off the Sepoy jacket, and in light running order,
darted through the tents. He calculated that he should have at least a
couple of minutes start before his absence was discovered, another
minute or two before the sentry was sufficiently sure of it to hail the
quarter-guard and report the circumstance. Then would follow the
discovery of the escape of the prisoners; but by that time he would be
far out on the plain, and even if seen, which was unlikely, he was
confident that he could outrun any native.
His anticipations turned out correct; he was already some distance off
when he heard the call of the sentry to the quarter-guard, followed
almost immediately by a still louder shout, that told that he had
discovered the flight of the prisoners; then came the sound of a musket
shot, a drum beat the alarm, and a babel of sounds rang on the still
air. But by this time Ned was halfway to the clump of trees, and three
minutes later he was in his father's arms. There was no time to talk
then. Another coat was hurried on to him, an ammunition belt and pouch
thrown over his shoulder, and Captain Manners carrying his musket until
he should have quite recovered breath, the five went off at a steady
trot, which after a quarter of an hour broke into a walk--for there was
no fear of pursuit--in the direction in which they knew Delhi to lie.
CHAPTER V.
BACK UNDER THE FLAG.
"How far is it to Delhi? We heard the guns there just now."
"Not thirty miles."
"Have you heard how things are going on there?" Dick asked.
"According to the Sepoy reports, fresh regiments are pouring in from
all quarters; and they boast that they are going to drive us out of the
country. Our troops are still at Meerut, and a force is gathering at
Umballah; but they are after all a mere handful."
"Do you think there is any chance of help coming to us?"
"None for the present. The Sepoys say that every station has gone down
except Agra, Allahabad, and Benares, and that these are soon to go too.
Cawnpore and Lucknow have risen."
"Are all the whites killed everywhere?"
"I am afraid they are all killed where there are no white troops; but
there, we must hope that they are making a stand. We shall be a long
time before we know anything. It is but a week yet since our station
went; seven days longer since Delhi rose."
"It seems ages ago," Ned said. "You don't mean to try and get to Meerut
to-night, I hope; we could walk as far if it were absolutely necessary,
but we have done a long day's walk already."
"No, no, Ned. I only want to get well away from our late camp.
To-morrow we will get near the river, hide all next day, and cross
after nightfall. There is a clump of trees; we will pass the night
there; I think we are safe enough now. The mutineers are too anxious to
be at Delhi to spend much time in looking for us. Now, first of all,
let us get a fire."
"We have never had a fire at night," Dick said, "since we started; we
have been too much afraid of being seen."
"There is not much chance of its being observed in a wood; especially
if the bushes are thick. We are four miles at least from the camp, and
we are all wet through with dew. Now for sticks."
The whole party soon collected a pile of sticks; and the major was
about to scatter some powder among the dead leaves, when Ned said, "We
have matches, father."
"Oh, that's all right, Ned. There we are, fairly alight. Yes, we have
chosen the place well; there are bushes all around. Now," he said, when
the fire had burned up brightly, "let us hear the full story of what
has passed; you gave us a short account when we first got free. Now let
us hear all about it."
Ned and Dick told the story--sometimes one taking it up, sometimes the
other. There were many questions from their auditors, and expressions
of warm approval of their conduct; and Captain Dunlop threatened under
his breath that if he ever had a chance he would not leave one cake of
mud upon another in the village where Kate was wounded. He and Captain
Manners proposed that they should go back, and afford what protection
they could to the girls. But Major Warrener at once negatived this idea.
"If they could come straight back with us, I should say yes," he said,
"for with us five we might hope to get them through safely; but even
that would be very risky, for the larger the party is, the more easily
it attracts attention, and the whole country is alive with rebels
marching to Delhi. But as Rose cannot be fit to travel for weeks, we
have no choice in the matter. They must remain where they are, and we
can only hope and pray for their safety. Our duty lies clearly at
Meerut, where every man who can sight a rifle will be wanted most
urgently. Now let us be off to sleep; the fire has burned low, and in
another hour or two it will be daybreak; however, there will be no
reveille, and we can sleep on with lighter hearts than we have had for
some time."
"What figures you are in those uniforms!" Dick said, laughing, next
morning; "you can scarcely move in them, and they won't meet by eight
or nine inches. It does not seem to me that they are any disguise at
all. Any one could see in a moment that they were not made for you."
"They are wretchedly uncomfortable, Dick." his father said; "and, as
you say, any one could see they were not made for us. But they are
useful. As we go along, any one who saw us at a distance would take us
for a straggling party of mutineers making our way to Delhi; while the
bright scarlet of our own uniform would have told its tale miles off."
"I shall be glad enough to get rid of mine, Dick; I feel as if I had
got into a boy's jacket by mistake. Jack Sepoy has no shoulders to
speak of; as far as height goes he is well enough; but thirty Sepoys on
parade take up no more room than twenty English. I had to take my
jacket off last night and lay it over my shoulders; I might as well
have tried to go to sleep in a vise. There! major; do you hear the
music? These rascals are on the march again."
The strains of music came very faintly to the ear, for the bivouac was
nearly a mile from the road.
"That is all right," the major said. "Now they have gone by, we can be
moving. We must give them an hour's start."
"Now, father, we have not heard your adventures yet; please tell us all
about them."
"Well, we have not had so much variety as you, but we have gone through
a good deal. You know we had talked over the best possible course to
take in case of an attack, come when it might. We had arranged what
each should do in case of a night attack, or of a rising upon parade;
and we had even considered the probability of being set upon when
gathered in the messroom. We had all agreed that if taken by surprise,
resistance would mean certain death; they would shoot us down through
the doors and windows, and we should be like rats in a cage. We agreed,
therefore, that in case of an attack, a simultaneous attempt to break
out must be made, and we had even settled upon the window by which we
should go. The married men were, of course, to make for their
bungalows, except where, as in my case, I had made other arrangements;
and the rest to various bungalows agreed upon, where traps were to be
in readiness. Dunlop, Manners, and myself had agreed to make for
Dunlop's, as it was the nearest, and his trap was to be ready that
evening.
"There were not many who believed in a mutiny that night. The villains,
only in the morning, having sworn to be faithful, deceived most of us,
for it was very hard to believe they could be capable of such
diabolical treachery. Swords and pistols were, of course, taken off,
but instead of being left in the anteroom, were brought into the
messroom. Some fellows put theirs in a corner, others against the wall
behind them. I was sitting between Dunlop and Manners, and we were, as
it happened, at the corner nearest the window fixed upon for the bolt.
Things went on all right till dinner was over, There was an insolent
look about some of the servants' faces I did not like, but nothing to
take hold of. I pointed it out to Dunlop, and we agreed that the plan
arranged was the best possible; and that, as resistance would be of no
use, if at each of the eight large windows and the two doors a stream
of musketry fire were being poured in, we would make a rush straight
for the window. Presently the colonel rose and gave 'The Queen.' We all
rose, and as if--as I have no doubt it was--the toast was the signal,
there was a sudden trampling in the veranda outside, and at every
window appeared a crowd of Sepoys, with their arms in their hands. I
shouted, 'To the window for your lives!' and without stopping to get my
sword, I dashed at the Sepoys who were there. Dunlop and Manners were
with me, and before the scoundrels had time to get their guns to their
shoulders, we were upon them. We are all big men; and our weight and
impetus, and the surprise, were too much for them; we burst through
them, standing as they did four or five deep, as if they had been
reeds. They gave a yell of rage and astonishment as they went down like
ninepins; but we scarcely saw it, for as we went through them the
musketry fire broke out round the messroom.
[Illustration: BEFORE THE SCOUNDRELS HAD TIME TO GET THEIR GUNS TO
THEIR SHOULDERS, WE WERE UPON THEM.]
"Whether any of the others tried to follow us, we don't know. I think
most of them forgot their arrangement, and rushed to their arms:
certainly some of them did so, for we heard the crack of revolvers
between the rifle shots. We made straight across the parade for
Dunlop's bungalow, with musket balls flying in all directions, as soon
as the fellows we had gone through recovered from their first
astonishment; but they are not good shots at the best, and a man
running at his top speed is not an easy mark by moonlight. We heard
yells and musket shots all round, and knew that while a part of the
regiment was attacking us, parties were told off to each bungalow. By
the time we had got over the few hundred yards to Dunlop's, the
whistling of the bullets round us had pretty well ceased, for the
fellows had all emptied their muskets; besides, we were nearly out of
range. None of them were near us, for they had stopped in their run to
fire; they were too much interested in the massacre going on inside,
and we seemed pretty safe; when, just as I entered the gate of the
compound, a stray bullet hit me on the head, and down I went like a log.
"Happily, the syce had proved faithful; he had been with Dunlop ever
since he joined the regiment, and Dunlop once risked his life to save
him from a tiger. There was the syce with the trap. He had not dared
bring it out till the first shot was fired, lest his fellow-servants,
who were all traitors, should stop it; but the instant it began, he
came round. They ran the horse up to where I was lying, lifted me in,
and jumped in, and drove out of the gate as a score of fellows from the
mess-house came making toward the bungalow. We had fifty yards' start,
but they fired away at us, a ball passing through the syce's leg as he
scrambled up behind. The horse went along at a gallop; but we were not
safe, for parties were carrying on their hellish work in every
bungalow, Dunlop and Manners were maddened by the screams they heard;
and if it had not been for having me under their charge, and by the
thoughts of the girls, I believe they would have jumped out and died
fighting. A few of the black devils, hearing wheels, ran out and fired;
but we kept on at a full gallop till we were well out of the place. A
mile further Dunlop found the horse begin to slacken his speed, and to
go very leisurely. He jumped out to see what was the matter, and found,
as he expected, that the horse had been hit. He had one bullet in the
neck, another in the side. It was evident that it could not go much
further. They lifted me out and carried me to a patch of bushes thirty
yards from the road. The syce was told to drive on quietly till the
horse dropped. Dunlop gave him money and told him to meet us at Meerut."
"Why did you not keep him with you? he would have been very useful?"
Dick asked.
"You see I wanted to get the trap as far away as possible before the
horse fell," Captain Dunlop said. "We did not know how severely wounded
the major was; indeed, we both feared he was killed; but the mutineers,
when they found the dead horse in the morning, were certain to make a
search in its neighbourhood, and would have found your father had he
been close by laid up with a wound."
"Happily I now began to come to," the major went on, continuing his
story. "The ball was nearly spent, and had given me a nasty scalp
wound, and had stunned me, but I now began to come round. The instant I
was able to understand where I was or what had happened, Dunlop and
Manners, who were half-wild with excitement and grief, made me promise
to lie quiet, while they went back to see what had become of you all.
Of course I consented. They were away about three hours, for they had
to make a circle of the cantonments, as our bungalow was quite at the
other end. They brought cheering news. They had first been to the
house, and found it utterly destroyed as they expected. That told them
nothing; for if you had been killed, your bodies would probably have
been burned with the house. Then they went out to the tope of trees
where it was agreed that you should, if possible, first fly. Here they
found a pocket-handkerchief of Rose's; and going round to the other
side, found by the marks upon the soil that four of you had started
together. With hearts immensely lightened by the discovery that you
had, at any rate, all escaped from the first massacre, they hurried
back to gladden me with the news. I was past understanding it when they
arrived, for the intense pain in my head and my terrible anxiety about
you had made me delirious. It would have been certain death to stay so
near the road, so they dipped their handkerchiefs in water, and tied
them round my head; and then supporting me, one on each side, they
half-dragged, half-carried, me to a deserted and half-ruinous cottage,
about a mile away.
"Next day I was still feverish, but fortunately no one came near us.
Dunlop and Manners went out at night, and got a few bananas. Next
morning our regiment marched away; and Dunlop then appealed to an old
cottager for shelter and food for us all. He at once promised to aid
us, and I was removed to his cottage, where everything in his power was
done for me. I was now convalescent, and a day later we were talking of
making a move forward. That night, however, the cottage was
surrounded--whether the peasant himself or some one else betrayed us,
we shall never know--but the men that we saw there belonged to a
regiment of mutineers that had marched in that afternoon from Dollah.
We saw at once that resistance was useless, and we were, moreover,
without arms. Had we had them, I have no doubt we should have fought
and been killed. As it was, we were bound and marched into the camp at
Sandynugghur. It was resolved to take us in triumph into Delhi; and we
were marched along with the regiment till you saw us. We had talked
over every conceivable plan of escape, and had determined that we would
try to-night, which will be the last halt before they get to Delhi. It
is very unlikely that we should have succeeded, but it was better to be
shot down than to be taken to Delhi and given over to the mob to
torture before they killed us. I am convinced we had no chance of
really getting off, and that you have saved our lives, just as Dunlop
and Manners saved mine, at the risk of their own, on that first night
of our flight. And now let us be on the march."
They had not gone far before the three officers found that it was
impossible to walk in their Sepoy jackets. They accordingly took them
off, and slung them from their muskets. Ned and Dick were fairly
fitted. They halted for the night near the river, about ten miles above
Delhi. In the morning they were off early. By nine o'clock they stood
on the bank of the river, five miles higher up.
The river is wide, or rather the bed of the river is wide, half a mile
at least; this in the rainy season is full to the brim, but at other
times the stream is not more than half that width. After crossing the
river they would have fifteen miles still to traverse to arrive at
Meerut; and it was probable that the whole intervening country was in
the hands of the Sepoys.
"Had we not better keep this side of the river for a bit, father?" Ned
asked.
"No, my boy; we will cross here after dark, and make straight for
Meerut. If we can't find a boat, we will each cut a large bundle of
rushes, to act as a lifebuoy and carry your guns and ammunition, and so
swim across after it is dark."
"Well, major, as the sun is getting awfully hot, I vote we get into the
shade of those stunted trees, and have a nap till the afternoon. It
won't do to begin even to make the raft till the sun is down."
Captain Dunlop's proposition was carried into effect; but it is
questionable whether any of the party slept much, for they were excited
by the thought that in a few hours they would be with friends, once
more soldiers instead of fugitives, with power to fight in defense of
their sovereign's dominions, and of the helpless women and children
exposed to the fury of the atrocious mutineers. With these thoughts
mingled the anxiety which was wearing them all, although each refrained
from talking about it, as to the safety of the girls, whose lives wore
dependent upon the fidelity of a native and his servants.
Over and over again, since they met the boys, had they regretted that
they had not gone back to watch over them; but the fact that Rose might
be weeks before she was able to stand, and that, as their protector had
said, the presence of Europeans near them might be detected, and would
be a source of constant danger, convinced them that they had taken the
proper course. They knew, too, that in acting as they had done they
were performing their duty; and that at a moment when the fate of
British India trembled in the balance, the place of every soldier was
by the side of the British troops who still maintained the old flag
flying in the face of increasing numbers of the enemy. Still, although
they knew that they were doing their duty, and were, moreover, taking
the wisest course, the thoughts of the girls alone in the midst of
danger, with one of them down with fever, tried them terribly, and they
longed with a fierce desire for the excitement of work and of danger to
keep them from thinking of it.
"Here, boys, is a ear of Indian corn apiece; eat that and then get to
work."
The frugal meal was soon over, and they then set to work, cutting down,
breaking off, and tearing up large reeds with which to make floats. The
boys had knives, but the others had been stripped of everything they
had at the time of their capture. In about an hour, however, five
bundles were made, each some six feet long and nearly three feet thick.
The muskets and ammunition pouches were fastened on these, and soon
after it was quite dark they entered the water.
"There are no crocodiles, I hope," Dick whispered to Ned.
"Nothing to fear in these large rivers; the chances of meeting one are
very small."
"All right," Dick said. "Of course we've got to risk it. But they're as
bad as sharks; and sharks, as the Yankee said, is pison. Well, here
goes."
When the bundles were placed in the water they were lashed side by side
with long trailing creepers which grew abundantly among the rushes; and
they were thus secured from the risk of turning over from the weights
on the top. Upon the raft thus formed their clothes were placed, and
then, side by side, pushing it before them, the party shoved off from
shore. In twenty minutes they touched ground on the other side. They
dressed, examined their muskets to see if they were in good order, and
then started in the direction in which they knew Meerut to be. Several
times they paused and listened, for they could occasionally hear the
noise of galloping men, and it was evident that there were troops of
some kind or other moving about.
They walked for some hours until they thought that they could not be
far from their destination, and had begun to congratulate themselves
upon being near their friends, when the sound of a strong body of men
was heard sweeping along the level plain across which they were now
passing.
"There is a small building ahead," the major said; "run for that; they
are coming across here."
They were seen, for a shout of "Who goes there?" in Hindostanee was
heard.
"Give me your musket, Dick," Captain Dunlop exclaimed. For the lad,
with the weight of his musket and ammunition, could hardly keep up with
the others.
Just in time they reached the building in front of them, rushed in, and
closed the door as the cavalry swept up. It was a small temple; a
building of massive construction, with one little window about six
inches square, and on the same side a strong door.
"Pile everything against the door," the major cried. "Dunlop, fire at
once at them. Our only chance is to hold out with the hope that we may
be heard, and that some of our fellows may come to the rescue."
Captain Dunlop fired just as the troopers dashed up to the door.
"Now, Manners, steady, pick off your man," the major said, as, aided by
the boys, he jammed a beam of wood between the door and the wall, at
such an angle that, except by breaking it to pieces, the door could not
be forced.
"Now," he said, "it's my turn;" and he fired into the enraged enemy.
"Now, Ned, steady. Are you loaded again, Dunlop?"
"Yes, major; just ready."
"Dick, you follow; take good aim."
The cavalry answered their fire, every shot of which was taking effect,
by a confused discharge of their pistols at the door and window.
"Draw off!" their leader shouted; "rear-rank men hold the horses,
front-rank men dismount and break in the door."
The order was obeyed; and the troopers rushed forward on foot, and were
met by a steady fire, to which the straggling return of their pistols
was but an inefficient answer. Vainly the mutineers hacked at the door
with their sabers and struck it with their pommels.
"Throw yourselves against it, all at once," cried their leader; and a
dozen men sent themselves against the door; it creaked and strained,
but the beam kept it in its place.
"You keep up the fire through the window," said the major; "the boys
and I will fire through the door."
Yells and shrieks followed each shot through the door, and after three
or four minutes the troopers drew off.
"Any one hurt?" the major asked.
"I have got a bullet in my shoulder," said Captain Dunlop.
But that was the only reply. There was a shout outside, and Manners
exclaimed: "Confound the fellows, they have got a big log of wood that
will soon splinter the door."
"We must stop them as long as we can," said the major, as he fired
among the men who were advancing with the log.
Several Sepoys fell before they got up to the house, but they pressed
on, and, at the first blow given by the battering-ram driven by the
men, the door split from top to bottom.
"Fix bayonets," the major said. "Now, Manners, you and I will hold them
back. Not more than two can come at once, and their swords are of no
use against bayonets in a narrow space. Dunlop, will you stand in
reserve? you have still got your right hand; use your bayonet as a
dagger if a rush comes. Boys, you go on loading and firing; put in four
balls each time. If they get in, of course use your bayonets; there
goes the door!"
A shout burst from the natives as the last portion of the door dropped
from its hinges, and the doorway was open. There was, however, no
inclination betrayed to make a rush.
"Forward! Death to the infidel dogs!" shouted their officer.
"Suppose you lead us," said one of the troopers; "the officers always
show the way."
"Come, then," cried an old officer, on whose breast hung several
medals; "follow me!"
Drawing his sword, he rushed forward, followed by twenty of his men.
But as he passed over the threshold he and the trooper next to him fell
beneath the bayonet thrusts of Major Warrener and his companion. The
next two, pushed forward by their comrades, shared the same fate;
while, as they fell, the muskets of Ned and Dick sent their contents
into the mass. The rest recoiled from the fatal doorway, while the
defenders set up a cheer of triumph. It was drowned in a crash of
musketry, mingled with a cry of surprise and despair from the natives,
as a body of British soldiers leaped from the wood, and followed their
volley by an impetuous charge. The cavalry on the plain turned and fled
at a gallop; and in five minutes, but for a few dark figures prostrate
on the plain, not an enemy was in sight.
"Well, gentlemen, you have made a stout defense," the officer in
command said, as he returned to the shrine, outside which the little
party had gathered. "It seems as if you could have done without my
help. Who are you, may I ask? And where have you sprung from?"
"Why, Sibbold, is it you? You haven't forgotten Warrener? And here are
Dunlop and Manners."
"Hurrah!" shouted the officer. "Thank God, old fellows, you are saved;
we fancied that you had all gone down. I am glad;" and he shook hands
enthusiastically with his friends; while two of the officers, coming
up, joined in the hearty greeting.
"Do those two men belong to your regiment?" Captain Sibbold asked. "If
so, they are wonders; for I don't know a case as yet where any of the
men proved true when the rest mutinied."
"They are my sons," Major Warrener answered.
"What?" exclaimed the other, laughing--believing that the major was
joking.
"It's a fact, as you will see when they have got rid of the stains on
their faces," he replied; while Captain Dunlop added, "and two as fine
young fellows as ever stepped. Do you know that we three were
prisoners, and that these lads rescued us from the middle of a pandy
regiment. If they hadn't we should have been dead men before now. And
now have you got anything to eat at Meerut, for we are famishing? In
the next place, I have got a bullet in my shoulder, and shall enjoy my
food all the more after it has been taken out. Our stories are long and
will keep. How go things here?"
"Not very brightly, Dunlop; however, that will keep, too; now let us be
off. Have we any casualties, sergeant?" he asked a non-commissioned
officer who came up for orders.
"None, sir."
"What is the enemy's loss?"
"There are fifteen which can be fairly counted to us, sir, and nineteen
here."
"That's a respectable total. Fall in, lads," he said to the men who had
gathered round, "and let us get back. You will be glad to hear that
these officers have escaped from the massacre at Sandynugghur."
There was a hearty cheer of satisfaction from the men, for Englishmen
were knit very closely together in those terrible days. Then, falling
in, the two companies of the Sixtieth Rifles marched back again to
their cantonments at Meerut.
CHAPTER VI.
A DASHING EXPEDITION.
On arriving at the cantonments, the party were soon surrounded by the
troops, who had been called under arms at the sound of distant firing,
but had been dismissed again on the arrival of a message to the effect
that the enemy had fled. The news had spread rapidly that some
fugitives had escaped from Sandynugghur, where it was supposed that the
massacre had been general; and officers pressed forward to shake their
hands, and the men uttered words of kindly congratulation and welcome.
The greeting swelled into a cheer as the detachment fell out, and,
scattering among their comrades, told of the desperate defense, and of
the slaughter inflicted upon the enemy by this handful of men. The
fugitives were, of course, taken first to the messroom, Captain Dunlop
being, however, carried off by the surgeon to his quarters, to have his
wound examined and attended to.
It seemed almost like a dream to the worn and weary party, as they sat
down again to a table laid with all the brightness and comfort of
civilization, and felt that they were indeed safe among friends. Many
were the questions asked them by officers who had friends and
acquaintances among the military and civilians at Sandynugghur; and the
fugitives learned that they were, so far as was known, the only
survivors from the massacre. The story of their escape, and the safety
of the girls, was told briefly, and listened to with eager interest;
and very deep and hearty were the congratulations which the boys
received for their share in the history. In return, Major Warrener
learned what had taken place in the last ten days.
The story was not reassuring; tidings of evil were coming from all
parts. As yet the number of stations where risings had taken place was
comparatively small; but the position was everywhere critical. In Agra,
Allahabad, and Benares, the attitude of the native troops and
population was more than doubtful. At Lucknow and Cawnpore every
precaution was being taken, but a rising was regarded as inevitable. In
fact everywhere, save in the Punjab, trouble had either come or was
coming. General Anson was collecting in all haste a force at Umballah,
which was intended to advance upon Delhi--where the ex-king had been
proclaimed Emperor of India--but his force would necessarily be an
extremely small one; and no help could possibly arrive up country for
many weeks. There was therefore only the Punjab to look to for aid.
Happily, the troops of the Madras and Bombay presidencies had so far
remained faithful.
"I suppose you have a good many men from Delhi, civilians and military,
as well as from other places?"
"Oh, yes, we are crowded; every bungalow has been given up to the
ladies, and we all sleep under canvas."
"I intend to ask leave to get up a troop of volunteers," Major Warrener
said; "in the first place to go out and bring in my daughter and niece,
and afterward to do any scouting or other duty that may be required."
"There has already been a talk of forming the unattached officers and
civilians into a sort of irregular cavalry, so I should think that you
will get leave; but it will be a hazardous business to make your way
eighty miles through the country, especially as the mutineers are
marching in all directions toward Delhi."
The next morning Major Warrener obtained permission, without
difficulty, to carry out his scheme; and the news no sooner was known
through the cantonments that a body of irregular horse was to be formed
for scouting and general purposes, and that unattached officers might,
until they received further orders, join it, than the tent which had
been assigned to Major Warrener was besieged by men anxious to join a
corps which seemed likely to afford them a chance of striking an early
blow at the mutineers.
Hitherto, the officers who had escaped from Delhi and other stations,
those who had come in from police duties in isolated districts, and
civilians, both merchants and government officials, had been fretting
that they could not be doing something to aid the great work of holding
India, and punishing those who had murdered their friends and
relations. Major Warrener's Light Horse, as it was to be called,
afforded the opportunity desired, and by the next morning eighty-five
volunteers had enrolled themselves. Some thirty-five of these were
officers, the rest civilians. Many of them had ridden in, others had
driven, so that most of them were already provided with horses. An
appeal was made to the officers of the Meerut garrison, and to the
civilians resident there, to give up any horses they might be able to
spare for the public service, while others were bought from friendly
zemindars. In a week the troop were all mounted, and during this time
they had worked hard to acquire a sufficient amount of cavalry drill to
enable them to perform such simple evolutions as might be necessary.
Major Warrener divided the squadron into two troops, each with a
captain and subaltern; all these officers being cavalrymen, as were the
officers who did duty as sergeants. Thus Major Warrener had the general
command, each troop being maneuvered by its own officers. In the ranks
as simple privates were two majors and a dozen captains--among these
latter, Captain Manners. Captain Dunlop was for the present in the
surgeon's hands; but he was resolved that when the time came for a
start for the rescue of the girls he would take his place in the ranks.
The boys of course formed part of the troop. The uniform was simple,
consisting simply of a sort of Norfolk jacket made of karkee, a kind of
coarse brown holland of native make. Each man carried a revolver, and
sword belt of brown leather. Their headgear was a cap of any kind,
wrapped round and round with the thick folds of a brown puggaree.
Beyond the Norfolk jacket and puggaree there was no actual uniform.
Most of the men had hunting breeches, many had high boots, others had
gaiters; but these were minor points, as were the horses' equipments.
Nothing had been said as to the intended expedition to bring in the
fugitives, as native spies might have carried the news to the rebels,
and so caused a renewed search to be made for their hiding-place. There
was, therefore, a deep feeling of satisfaction, as well as of surprise,
when, on the tenth day after the formation of the corps, the men were
told, on being dismissed from morning parade, that the squadron would
parade for duty at evening gunfire; that each man was to be provided
with a blanket and a haversack, with cooked food sufficient for four
days, and a bag with twenty pounds of forage for his horse, each horse
to be well fed before coming on parade.
Had the route been free from enemies, the distance might have been done
in two long night marches; but it would be necessary to make a detour
on starting, so as to avoid striking the main road, as on the way out
it was all-important to avoid detection, as the enemy might muster in
such strength that their return would be difficult and dangerous in the
extreme. The girls once in their hands, the return journey would be
easy, as they could avoid any infantry, and had no fear of being able
to cut their way through any body of cavalry whom they might
accidentally come across, especially as they would have all the
advantage of a surprise. Half an hour after sunset the squadron rode
out from the lines at Meerut, amid a hearty cheer from the many troops
at the station, who, hearing that Warrener's Light Horse were off on an
expedition against the mutineers, had assembled to see the start. Major
Warrener rode at the head of the squadron, with Captain Kent, who
commanded the first troop, by his side, and behind them came two native
guides well acquainted with the country. These had been dressed in the
uniform of a native cavalry regiment, in order that if they passed any
village and were challenged, they could ride forward and represent the
troop as a body of native cavalry sent out from Delhi on a mission to a
friendly rajah. The precaution was unnecessary. During two long night
marches, with occasional halts to rest the horses, they rode without
interruption. They passed through several villages; but although the
tramp of the horses and the rattle of sabers must have been heard by
the inhabitants, none stirred, for the mutineers took what they wanted
without paying, and were already behaving as masters of the country;
and even thus early the country people were beginning to doubt whether
the fall of the English Raj, and the substitution of the old native
rule, with its war, its bloodshed, and its exactions, was by any means
a benefit, so far as the tillers of the soil were concerned. Just
before morning, on the third day, the troop halted in a thick grove,
having watered their horses at a tank a half-hour before. They had
ridden some seventy miles, and were, they calculated, about fifteen
miles from the place where they had left the girls. It might have been
possible to push on at once, but the day was breaking, and it would
have been inexpedient to tire out the horses when they might want all
their speed and strength on the return journey. Very slowly passed the
day. Most of the men, after seeing to their horses and eating some
food, threw themselves down and slept soundly. But Major Warrener, his
sons, and Captains Dunlop and Manners were far too anxious to follow
their example, for some time. It was more than a fortnight since the
boys had left the ladies, and so many things, of which they hardly dare
think, might have happened since.
"Don't let us talk about it any more," Major Warrener said at last; "we
only add to each other's anxiety. Now, Dunlop, you must positively lie
down; you know Johnson said it was mad in you to get on horseback till
your bone had set firmly, and that it was ten to one in favor of
inflammation coming on again. You have much to go through yet."
[Illustration: AFTER FIVE MINUTES' RIDING, THEY DREW UP THEIR HORSES
WITH A CRY OF DISMAY.]
Gradually sleepiness overcame excitement, and with the exception of ten
men told off as sentries and to look after the horses, the whole party
slept quietly for some hours. It had been determined to start in time
to arrive at the farmhouse before it was dark, as the boys required
daylight to enable them to recognize the locality; besides which it was
advisable to get as far back upon the return journey as possible before
daybreak. The boys were now riding in front with their father.
"That is the wood," Ned said presently. "I know by those three palm
trees growing together in a clump, at a short distance in advance. I
noticed them particularly."
"Where is the house?" Major Warrener asked.
"We ought to see the house," Dick said, and he looked at his brother
apprehensively.
"Yes," Ned said; "we certainly ought to see it."
"You are sure you are not mistaken in the locality?" their father asked.
"Quite sure," the boys answered together; "but the house----"
"Let us gallop on," Major Warrener said, catching the fear which was
expressed in each of his sons' faces.
Five minutes' riding, and they drew up their horses with a cry of
dismay. A large patch of wood ashes marked the spot where the house had
stood. No words were needed; the truth was apparent; the fugitives had
been discovered, and the abode of their protectors destroyed. Their two
friends joined the little group, and the rest of the troop dismounted
at a short distance, respecting the deep pain which the discovery had
caused to their leader.
"What is to be done?" Major Warrener asked, breaking the deep silence.
For a moment no one answered; and then Dick said:
"Perhaps we may find some of the farmer's people in the hut where we
slept, and we may get news from them."
"A capital thought, Dick," said Major Warrener. "We must not give up
hope; there are no bodies lying about, so the farm people are probably
alive. As to the girls, if they are carried off we must rescue them.
Where is the hut?"
A few minutes' walking brought them to it. Even before they reached it
it was evident that it was inhabited, for two or three peons were
squatted near the door. These rose on seeing the group of Englishmen,
but made no attempt at flight. They entered the hut without ceremony,
and Ned and Dick hurried to the side of an old man lying on a heap of
straw, while some females standing near hastily veiled themselves at
the entrance of the strangers.
"Where are the girls? what has happened? are you hurt?" were the three
questions poured out rapidly by Ned, as the boy seized the old man's
hands.
"Is it you, sahibs? I am glad, indeed. I did not break my promise to
come and tell you; but as you see," and he pointed to the bandage which
enveloped his head, "I was wounded, and am still ill."
"But the girls?" asked Ned.
"They have been carried off by the troops of the Rajah of Nahdoor."
"How long since?"
"Thursday, sahib."
"How far off is Nahdoor?"
"Ten miles, sahib."
Major Warrener now took up the interrogation.
"How is the one who was ill?"
"She was better, and was getting stronger again when they carried her
off."
"Do you think they are still at Nahdoor? or that they have been sent
into Delhi?"
"They are still there," the Hindoo said. "I have sent a man each day to
watch, so that directly I got better I might be able to tell you the
truth of the matter. My servant has just returned; they had not left at
three o'clock, and they would be sure not to start after that hour. The
rajah will go with his troops in a few days to pay his respects to the
emperor; he will probably take the _mem_ sahibs with him."
"Thank God for that," Major Warrener said. "If they have not yet been
taken to that horrible den of murder we will save them. I am the father
of one, and the other is my niece," he said to the zemindar; "and I owe
their lives so far to you. The debt of gratitude I can never pay to
you--or to your wife and daughter," he added, turning to the women,
who, their first impulse of alarm over, had now, in the presence of
friends, uncovered their faces, for it is only the higher class of
Hindoo women who closely veil--"for your care in nursing my niece, and
for giving them shelter, when to do so was to risk your lives. This
debt I can never pay; but the losses you have sustained in the
destruction of your house, and the loss of animals, I can happily more
than replace. And now tell me how it happened."
"It was late in the afternoon," the Hindoo said, "when a body of horse
galloped across the field to my door. Their captain rode up to me. 'Are
there any Feringhees hid here, old man?' he asked. 'I have seen no man
of the white race since the troubles began,' I said; and you know I
spoke not falsely. 'I must search the house,' he said; 'there are a
party of fugitives hiding somewhere in this district, and the orders
from Delhi are strict that every Feringhee is to be hunted down and
sent there.' 'You will find no one here,' I said, 'but my women, one of
whom is sick.' 'I must see them,' he said; and he knocked loudly at the
door of the women's room, and ordered them to come out. My wife and
daughter came to the door. 'Where is the one who is said to be sick?'
he said; 'I must see her too.' Then, seeing that he was determined to
enter, the young _mem_ sahib came to the door. The captain gave a shout
of pleasure; calling in his men, he entered the room, and, in spite of
the entreaties of her sister, brought the one who was sick out also.
She was able to walk, but, as we had agreed between us should be done
if discovery was made, she pretended that she was almost at the point
of death. Some poles were got; a hammock was made; and borne by four
bearers, she was carried away, her sister being placed on a horse
closely guarded. As he turned to ride off the captain's eye fell upon
me. 'Ah! old traitor!' he said; 'I had forgotten you!' and he drew a
pistol and fired at me. I know no more; his men put fire to the barn
and granaries, and drove off our cattle and horses. When he had ridden
off my servants--who thought I was dead--by order of my sorrowing wife
carried me here. Happily, however, by the will of Brahma, the bullet,
instead of going through my skull, glanced off, and I was only stunned.
I had lost much blood, but I determined to set out as soon as I could
walk to bring you the news, and in the meantime have had a watch kept
upon Nahdoor."
Major Warrener and his sons thanked the old peasant and his family in
the warmest terms for what they had done, and the former pressed upon
the farmer a sum of money which would cover all the losses he had
sustained.
"Your conduct," he said, "will be reported to the government, and you
will find when these troubles are over that England knows how to reward
those who proved faithful when so many were faithless. Now we will say
adieu. When the war is over the ladies you have so kindly treated will
themselves return to thank you."
In a few minutes the troop was in the saddle again, and directed its
march toward Nahdoor.
On the way Major Warrener questioned his guide as to the strength and
position of the fortress, which lay away from the main road, and had
not been visited by any of the troop--as the major had ascertained
before starting. The account was not reassuring. The guide reported
that it stood on a rock, which rose perpendicularly some eighty or a
hundred feet from the plain; the only access being by a zigzag road cut
in the face of the cliff, with a gateway defended by a gun, and
loopholed walls at each turn, and with a very strong wall all round the
edge of the rock. The garrison, they had learned from the persons at
the farm, was some three hundred strong, the ordinary number of
retainers being at present increased by many fighting men, who had
within the last few days joined the rajah, on hearing that he was going
to march to Delhi to fight under the emperor against the Feringhees.
The troop halted in a wood three miles from Nahdoor; as the guide said
that there was no place nearer where they could be concealed without a
certainty of discovery.
Before morning Major Warrener and his second in command put on native
clothes, which the former bad brought with him, in case it should be
necessary to open communication with the girls, and left the wood with
one of the native guides. The disguises were not meant to deceive close
investigation, and no attempt was made to change the color of the skin,
but they were sufficient to enable the wearers to pass without exciting
suspicion by any one who only saw them at a distance.
When morning broke they stood within half a mile of the fortress, which
answered exactly to the description they had received of it.
Gradually--keeping always at a distance, and availing themselves as far
as possible of cover--they made a circuit of the place, and then
returned to the troop, who were anxiously awaiting their report.
"It is a very hard nut to crack," Major Warrener said to his sons.
"There is no possibility of climbing the rock anywhere, or of attacking
in any way except by the regular ascent. There are eight gateways to be
forced before arriving at the main entrance through the walls. We
should require petards to blow in gates, and ought to have field guns
to drive them out of the gate-houses. I do not say it would be
absolutely impossible, because before now British troops have done what
seemed impossible in India; but the difficulties would be so enormous,
the risk of failure so great, and the loss certainly so crushing, that
I should not be justified in undertaking such a desperate adventure on
my own responsibility, and for my own private ends. We have no right,
boys, to cause the loss of some thirty or forty of these fine young
fellows, even to rescue the girls. An attack by surprise is the only
possibility. At present we don't see the way, but something may turn up
to help us. Failing that, our only plan is to wait till the rajah
starts with his following and the girls for Delhi, and then to attack
them on their way. The drawback to this is that he may not leave for
days, and that at any moment we may be discovered. Besides, there is
the difficulty of feeding the horses and ourselves. Now, boys, you know
as much as I do. Think it over while I have a talk with Dunlop and
Manners."
"Manners is at the other end of the wood, father, half a mile away. We
found, after you had gone, that the main Delhi road ran through the
further skirts of the wood, so Manners suggested to Lieutenant Simmons
that he should go with ten men and hide there, so that they could see
who went along the road and perhaps intercept some messenger between
Delhi and Nahdoor."
"A capital idea," Major Warrener said.
Two hours later Captain Manners returned with his party, bringing in
two prisoners.
"Who have you there, Manners?" Major Warrener asked.
"Two of the rascally Third Cavalry, who mutinied at Meerut. This
fellow, as you see, is a native officer; there were two of them and two
sowars, but they showed fight when we surrounded them, and tried to
ride through us, so we had to shoot two of them. They are bearers of a
letter from the Delhi prince to the rajah. Here it is."
Major Warrener looked sternly at the prisoners, who were still wearing
their British uniform, and then ordered them to be taken away and hung
at once.
"What did you do with the others, Manners?"
"We hid their bodies under some bushes at a distance from the road."
"You must go back," the major said, "with another; take Larkin with
you. You must strip off the uniforms and bring them here."
Half an hour later Major Warrener summoned the captains of his two
troops, and took them into council.
"Nothing could be more fortunate than this capture," he said; "it seems
to clear the way for us altogether. What I propose to do is this: that
two of the best linguists of the troop, with the two native guides,
should dress in the uniforms of these scoundrels. They can then go
boldly in with the letter from the prince. They will of course be well
received, and will stay for the night. The two who go as officers will
be entertained by the rajah, and will learn the plan of the state
apartments; the other two will be made welcome by the retainers. When
all is quiet at night they must steal out and wait on the wall. That
projecting watch-tower that overhangs the cliff on the other side would
be the best. We will be below. Then a rope must be lowered. We have two
long picketing ropes, either of which would be long enough, but they
would be too bulky to carry in without suspicion. Our native guides,
however, will soon tear up some cloth, and twist a rope not much
thicker than string, but strong enough to hold the rope. Then the
string can be twisted round the body without fear of detection, and
when the time comes lowered, with a stone at the end. We shall be below
with a strong rope ladder, made with the picket-ropes and bamboo
staves; and once fixed, we shall be up in no time. I leave it to you to
decide who are the best linguists. They must of course be asked if they
are willing to undertake it. I will speak to the guides. What do you
think of the general plan?"
"Excellent," the officers said. "It might be as well," one suggested,
"that each of the party should have a light rope wound round him, so
that if one, two, or even three could not slip away, the fourth could
still carry out the plan."
Some other details were arranged, and then the officers went to pick
out the two men who could best pass as natives. There was no difficulty
upon this score, for two of the troop, who had for years commanded
large police districts, spoke the language as perfectly as natives, and
these, upon being asked, readily accepted the duty. The work of making
the rope ladders, and the light ropes for hauling them up, was entered
upon, and by sunset all were ready for the expedition.
It was fortunate that they had no longer to stay in the wood, for
during the day five or six natives who came in to gather wood had to be
seized and bound, and it was certain that a search would be set on foot
there next morning. Fortunately a large field of Indian corn bordered
one side of the wood, and from this both man and horse had satisfied
their hunger.
Every detail of the plan was carefully considered and discussed, so
that no mistake could occur; and each of the principal actors in the
piece had his part assigned to him. The two native guides, who had
themselves served as soldiers in native regiments, consented willingly
to perform their parts, and just at sunset the two officers and men
rode off to Nahdoor, bearing the letter from the prince of Delhi to the
rajah.
There was high feasting in Nahdoor that night. The rajah had received
with all honor the officers from Delhi. The letter from the prince had
promised him a high command in the army which was to exterminate the
last infidel from the land. It had thanked him for the capture of the
white women, and had begged him to bring them on with him to Delhi, and
to come at once with his own force. From the officers the rajah had
heard how the mutiny was everywhere a success, and that at Lucknow and
Cawnpore the troops would rise in a day or two and massacre all the
whites. The evening ended early, for the officers from Delhi were
fatigued with their long ride, and being shown into a little square
marble-lined room off the great hall where they had supped, were soon
apparently asleep on the cushions and shawls spread for them. The rajah
retired to his apartments, and his officers to their quarters; and
although for another hour talking and laughing went on round the little
fires in the courtyard, presently these too were hushed, and a profound
stillness fell upon Nahdoor. Then, barefooted, the officers from Delhi
stole out of their apartment and made for the outer wall. As they had
anticipated, they found no one about; beyond a sentry at the lower gate
there would be no watch kept, and they reached the watch-tower on the
wall without the slightest interruption. Here two other figures had
already arrived, and after throwing down some small stones as a signal,
which was answered by a faint whistle, the ropes were lowered without
delay. One of them was soon seized from below, and the others being
also found and fastened to the rope ladder, the weight of which was
considerable, those above began to draw up. Everything succeeded
admirably. One by one fifty men appeared at the top of the wall.
Quietly they made their way down to the courtyard, and broke up into
parties, taking their places at the entrance to the various buildings;
then, all further need for concealment being at an end, a bugle call
sounded loud in the air. It was answered by another down upon the plain
near the gate. The rajah himself was one of the first to rash out. He
was seized and disarmed before he was aware of what had happened.
"Tell your men to throw down their arms and surrender," Major Warrener
said to him, "or we will put you and every soul here to the sword. The
place is surrounded, and there is no escape. Do you not hear our bugles
on the plain?"
It needed not the rajah's order; the garrison, taken utterly by
surprise, and finding the castle captured by an enemy of unknown
strength, threw down their arms as they came out of their quarters.
Orders were sent by the rajah to the men at the various gates on the
hill to come up and lay down their arms, and the sentry at the lowest
of all was to open it to the troops there. A bugler and ten men were
left below, and the rest joined the party in the castle.
Long ere they had arrived, the joyful meeting of the captives and their
friends had taken place. Rose and Kate had awoke at the sound of the
bugle, but had heeded it little, believing that it was only a Sepoy
call. Even the stir and commotion outside had not disturbed them, and
they had lain quiet until they heard a loud knocking at the door of the
women's apartments, followed by screams from the women, and then--they
could scarcely believe their ears--their names shouted in Major
Warrener's voice. With a cry of delight both sprang up, and seizing
shawls, rushed to the door, and in another moment Kate was in the arms
of her father.
"We are all here, dear," he said, after the first wild greeting--"the
boys, and Dunlop, and Manners. Hurry on your clothes, darlings; they
are longing to see you."
The garrison of the castle were all collected in one of the smaller
courts, where twenty troopers, revolver in hand, kept guard over them.
The whole of the arms found in the castle were broken to pieces and
thrown over the walls, and the cannon planted there were first spiked
and then pitched over. The guns on the gates were similarly rendered
useless, and the stores of gunpowder all wetted. The rajah and his two
sons, boys of six and eight, were then told to prepare to accompany the
troops, and warning was given that they would be shot in case an attack
was made upon the force as it returned to Meerut.
"Tell your followers this," Major Warrener said, "and order them to
give no alarm, or to spread the news; for if we are caught your life
and that of your sons will pay forfeit. As it is, you may hope for
clemency. You have as yet taken no part in the insurrection; and
although there is no doubt of your intention, your good conduct in the
future may, perhaps, wipe out the memory of your faults."
It needs not to say anything of the rapturous greeting of the girls and
their brothers and lovers, or the happy half-hour which was spent
together in the great hall while the preparations for the departure
were being made outside. Captain Kent saw to all that there was to be
done, leaving the major free to join the happy party within.
"Are you strong enough to ride, Rose?"
"Oh, I think so, uncle; I have been shamming ill, and they thought I
could not walk; but I am pretty strong, and if I can't ride by myself I
must be tied on to some one else."
"I dare say my horse will carry double," Captain Manners said, laughing.
"Have the women here been kind?" Major Warrener asked.
The girls shook their heads:
"Not very, papa; they have been talking of Delhi;" and Kate shuddered.
The major frowned; he could guess what they must have suffered. He went
to the door.
"Kent, order the women out of the _zenana_ into one of the other rooms.
Tell them that they will all be searched as they come out, and that if
one brings out an ornament or a jewel with her she will be put to
death. Of course you will not search them; but the threat will do. Let
no insult be offered them. Then let Rivers take four men, and go in,
and take all the loot you can find. The jewels we will divide among the
men when at Meerut. Tell off another party to loot the rest of the
rooms, but only take what is really valuable and portable. We cannot
cumber ourselves with baggage. It would serve the rajah right if I were
to burn his castle down; he may think himself lucky to get off with his
life."
The girls pleaded for the women. "We bear them no ill-feeling," they
said. "They are very ignorant; they only acted as they were taught."
"Well, well," said the major, "we will take the jewels alone; they are
a fair loot."
Another hour and the troops were already well on their way on the Delhi
road. The good luck which had attended them so far followed them to the
end. Anxious to avoid an encounter with the enemy, they took an even
more circuitous route than that by which they had come, and on the
fourth afternoon after leaving rode into Meerut, where their arrival
after the long and successful expedition created quite an excitement. A
comfortable house was found for the girls, with some old friends of the
major, who resided permanently at Meerut; as for the major and his
troops, they prepared to accompany the column which was on the point of
marching against Delhi.
CHAPTER VII.
DELHI.
Never did a government or a people meet a terrible disaster with a more
undaunted front than that displayed by the government and British
population of India when the full extent of the peril caused by the
rising of the Sepoys was first clearly understood. By the rising of
Delhi, and of the whole country down to Allahabad, the northern part of
India was entirely cut off from Calcutta, and was left wholly to its
own resources. Any help that could be spared from the capital was
needed for the menaced garrisons of Allahabad, Benares, and Agra, while
it was certain that the important stations of Cawnpore and Lucknow, in
the newly-annexed province of Oude, would at best be scarcely able to
defend themselves, and would in all probability urgently require
assistance. Thus the rebel city of Delhi, the center and focus of the
insurrection, was safe from any possibility of a British advance from
the south. Nor did it look as if the position of the English was much
better in the north. At Sealkote, Lahore, and many other stations, the
Sepoys mutinied, and the Sikh regiments were disturbed, and
semi-mutinous. It was at this all-important moment that the fidelity of
two or three of the great Sikh chieftains saved British India. Foremost
of them was the Rajah of Puttiala, who, when the whole Sikh nation was
wavering as to the course it should take, rode into the nearest British
station with only one retainer, and offered his whole force and his
whole treasury to the British government. A half-dozen other prominent
princes instantly followed the example; and from that moment Northern
India was not only safe, but was able to furnish troops for the siege
of Delhi. The Sikh regiments at once returned to their habitual state
of cheerful obedience, and served with unflinching loyalty and bravery
through the campaign.
Not a moment was lost, as it was all-important to make an appearance
before Delhi, and so, by striking at the heart of the insurrection, to
show the waverers all over India that we had no idea of giving up the
game. The main force was collected at Umballah, under General Anson.
Transport was hastily got together, and in the last week of May this
force moved forward, while a brigade from Meerut advanced to effect a
junction with it. With this latter force were Warrener's irregular
horse, which had returned only the evening before the advance from its
successful expedition to Nahdoor. On the 30th of May the Meerut force
under Brigadier-General Wilson came in contact with the enemy at
Ghazee-ud-deen-Nugghur, a village fifteen miles from Delhi, where there
was a suspension bridge across the Hindur. This fight, although
unimportant in itself, is memorable as being the first occasion upon
which the mutineers and the British troops met. Hitherto the Sepoys had
had it entirely their own way. Mutiny, havoc, murder, had gone on
unchecked; but now the tide was to turn, never to ebb again until the
Sepoy mutiny was drowned in a sea of blood. Upon this, their first
meeting with the white troops, the Sepoys were confident of success.
They were greatly superior in force; they had been carefully drilled in
the English system; they were led by their native regimental officers;
and they had been for so many years pampered and indulged by
government, that they regarded themselves, as being, man for man, fully
equal to the British. Thus, then, they began to fight with a confidence
of victory which, however great their superiority in numbers, was never
again felt by the mutineers throughout the war. Upon many subsequent
occasions they fought with extreme bravery, but it was the bravery of
despair; whereas the British soldiers were animated with a burning
desire for vengeance, and an absolute confidence of victory. Thus the
fight at Ghazee-ud-deen-Nugghur is a memorable one in the annals of
British India.
The mutineers, seeing the smallness of the British force, at first
advanced to the attack; but they were met with such fury by four
companies of the Sixtieth Rifles, supported by eight guns of the
artillery, by the Carbineers and Warrener's Horse, that, astounded and
dismayed, they broke before the impetuous onslaught, abandoned their
intrenchments, threw a way their arms, and fled, leaving five guns in
the hands of the victors, and in many cases not stopping in their
flight until they reached the gates of Delhi. The next day considerable
bodies of fresh troops came out to renew the attack; but the reports of
the fugitives of the day before, of the fury and desperation with which
the British troops were possessed, had already effected such an
impression that they did not venture upon close fighting, but after
engaging in an artillery duel at long distances, fell back again to
Delhi.
On the 7th of June the Meerut force joined that from Umballah, at
Alipore, a short march from Delhi; and the next morning the little
army, now under the command of Sir H. Barnard--for General Anson,
overwhelmed by work and responsibility, had died a few days before
advanced upon the capital of India, After four miles march they came at
Badulee-Ka-Serai upon the enemy's first line of defense, a strong
intrenched position, held by three thousand Sepoys with twelve guns.
These pieces of artillery were much heavier than the British field
guns, and as they opened a heavy fire, they inflicted considerable
damage upon our advancing troops. The British, however, were in no
humor for distant fighting; they panted to get at the murderers of
women and children--these men who had shot down in cold blood the
officers, whose only fault had been their too great kindness to, and
confidence in them. Orders were given to the Seventy-fifth to advance
at once and take the position; and that regiment, giving a tremendous
cheer, rushed forward with such impetuosity through the heavy fire
that, as at Ghazee-ud-deen-Nugghur, the Sepoys were seized with a
panic, and fled in wild haste from their intrenchments, leaving their
cannon behind them.
At the foot of the steep hill on which the signal tower stands, another
and stronger line of defense had been prepared; but the mutineers
stationed here were infected by the wild panic of the fugitives from
the first position, and so, deserting their position, joined in the
flight into the city.
The British troops had marched from their encampment at Alipore at one
in the morning, and by nine A.M. the last Sepoy disappeared within the
walls of the town, and the British flag flew out on the signal tower on
the Ridge, almost looking down upon the rebel city, and the troops took
up their quarters in the lines formerly occupied by the Thirty-eighth,
Fifty-fourth, and Seventy-fourth native regiments. As the English flag
blew out to the wind from the signal tower, a thrill of anxiety must
have been felt by every one in Delhi, from the emperor down to the
lowest street ruffian. So long as it waved there it was a proof that
the British Raj was not yet overthrown--that British supremacy,
although sorely shaken, still asserted itself--and that the day of
reckoning and retribution would, slowly perhaps, but none the less
surely, come for the blood-stained city. Not only in Delhi itself, but
over the whole of India, the eyes of the population were turned toward
that British flag on the Ridge. Native and British alike recognized the
fact that English supremacy in India depended upon its maintenance.
That England would send out large reinforcements all knew, but they
also knew that many an anxious week must elapse before the first
soldier from England could arrive within striking distance. If the
native leaders at Delhi, with the enormously superior forces at their
command, could not drive off their besiegers and pluck down the flag
from the Ridge, the time must come when, with the arrival of the
reinforcements, the tide would begin to flow against them. So India
argued, and waited for the result. The Delhi leaders, as well as the
English, felt the importance of the issue, and the one never relaxed
their desperate efforts to drive back the besiegers--the other with
astonishing tenacity held on against all odds; while scores of native
chiefs hesitated on the verge, waiting, until they saw the end of the
struggle at Delhi. It was called the siege of Delhi, but it should
rather have been called the siege of the Ridge, for it was our force
rather than that of the enemy which was besieged. Never before in the
history of the world did three thousand men sit down before a great
city inhabited by a quarter of a million bitterly hostile inhabitants,
and defended moreover by strong walls, a very powerful artillery, and a
well-drilled and disciplined force, at first amounting to some ten
thousand men, but swelled later on, as the mutineers poured in from all
quarters, to three times that force. Never during the long months which
the struggle lasted did we attempt to do more than to hold our own. The
city was open to the enemy at all sides, save where we held our
footing; large forces marched in and out of the town; provisions and
stores poured into it; and we can scarcely be said to have fired a shot
at it until our batteries opened to effect a breach a few days before
the final assault.
The troops with which Sir H. Barnard arrived before Delhi consisted of
the Seventy-fifth Regiment, six companies of the Sixtieth Rifles, the
First Bengal Fusiliers, six companies of the Second Fusiliers--both
composed of white troops--the Sirmoor battalion of Goorkhas, the Sixth
Dragoon Guards (the Carbineers), two squadrons of the Ninth Lancers,
and a troop or two of newly-raised irregular horse. The artillery
consisted of some thirty pieces, mostly light field-guns.
Upon the day following the occupation of the Ridge a welcome accession
of strength was received by the arrival of the Guides, a picked corps
consisting of three troops of cavalry and six companies of infantry.
This little force had marched five hundred and eighty miles in
twenty-two days, a rate of twenty-six miles a day, without a break--a
feat probably altogether without example, especially when it is
considered that it took place in India, and in the hottest time of the
year.
The Ridge, which occupies so important a place in the history of the
siege of Delhi, is a sharp backed hill, some half a mile long, rising
abruptly from the plain. From the top a splendid view of Delhi, and of
the country, scattered with mosques and tombs--the remains of older
Delhi--can be obtained. The cantonments lay at the back of this hill, a
few posts only, such as Hindoo Rao's house, being held in advance.
Until the work of building batteries and regularly commencing the siege
should begin, it would have been useless putting the troops
unnecessarily under the fire of the heavy guns of the city bastions.
When the troops had fairly taken possession of the old native lines on
the 8th of June many of them, as soon as dismissed from duty, made
their way up to the flagstaff tower, on the highest point of the Ridge,
to look down upon Delhi. Among those who did so were Major Warrener and
his two sons. Both uttered an exclamation of pleasure as the city came
into view:
"What a superb city!"
Delhi is indeed a glorious city as viewed from the Ridge. It is
surrounded by a lofty crenelated wall, strengthened with detached
martello towers, and with eleven bastions, each mounting nine guns, the
work of our own engineers, but in admirable architectural keeping with
the towers. Conspicuous, on a high table rock rising almost
perpendicularly in the heart of the city, is the Jumma Musjid, the
great mosque, a superb pile of building, with its domes and minarets.
To the left, as viewed from the Ridge, is the great mass of the king's
palace--a fortress in itself--with its lofty walls and towers, and with
its own mosques and minarets. These rise thickly, too, in other parts,
while near the palace the closely-packed houses cease, and lofty trees
rise alone there. The Ridge lies on the north of the city, and opposite
to it is the Cashmere gate, through which our storming parties would
rush later on; and away, a little to the right, is the Lahore gate,
through which the enemy's sorties were principally made. On the left of
the Ridge the ground is flat to the river, which sweeps along by the
wall of the town and palace. There are two bridges across it, and over
them the exulting mutineers were for weeks to pass into the city--not
altogether unpunished, for our guns carried that far, and were
sometimes able to inflict a heavy loss upon them as they passed, with
music playing and flags flying, into the town.
"A glorious city!" Ned Warrener said, as they looked down upon it.
"What a ridiculous handful of men we seem by the side of it! It is like
Tom Thumb sitting down to besiege the giant's castle. Why, we should be
lost if we got inside!"
"Yes, indeed, Ned," said his father; "there will be no possibility of
our storming that city until our numbers are greatly increased; for if
we scaled the walls by assault, which we could no doubt do, we should
have to fight our way through the narrow streets, with barriers and
barricades everywhere; and such a force as ours would simply melt away
before the fire from the housetops and windows. There is nothing so
terrible as street fighting; and drill and discipline are there of
comparatively little use. The enemy will naturally fight with the
desperation of rats in a hole: and it would be rash in the extreme for
us to make the attempt until we are sure of success. A disastrous
repulse here would entail the loss of all India. The news is worse and
worse every day from all the stations of the northwest; and as the
mutineers are sure to make for Delhi, the enemy will receive
reinforcements vastly more rapidly than we shall, and it will be all we
shall be able to do to hold our own here. We may be months before we
take Delhi."
"I hope they won't keep us here all that time," Dick said, "for cavalry
can't do much in a siege; besides, the ground is all cut up into
gardens and inclosures, and we could not act, even if we had orders to
do so."
"We may be very useful in going out to bring convoys in," Major
Warrener replied, "and to cut off convoys of the enemy, to scout
generally, and to bring in news; still, I agree with you, Dick, that I
hope we may be sent off for duty elsewhere. Hullo! what's that?"
As he spoke a sudden fire broke out from the walls and bastions; shot
and shell whizzed over their heads, many of them plunging down behind
the Ridge, among the troops who were engaged in getting up their tents;
while a crackling fire of musketry broke out in the gardens around
Hindoo Rao's house, our advanced post on the right front.
"A sortie!" exclaimed the major. "Come along, boys." And those who had
gathered around the flagstaff dashed down the hill to join their
respective corps. The Sixtieth Rifles, however, of whom two companies
held Hindoo Rao's, repulsed the sortie, and all calmed down again; but
the enemy's artillery continued to play, and it was evident that the
foe had it in his power to cause great annoyance to all our pickets on
the Ridge.
Fortunately our position could only be assailed on one side. Our
cavalry patrolled the plain as far as the river, and our rear was
covered by a canal, possessing but few bridges, and those easily
guarded. It was thus from our right and right front alone that serious
attacks could be looked for.
The next afternoon a heavy firing broke out near Hindoo Rao's house,
and the troops got under arms. The enemy were evidently in force.
An aid-de-camp rode up:
"Major Warrener, you will move up your troop, and fall in with the
Guide cavalry."
At a trot Warrener's Horse moved off toward the right. The guns on the
walls were now all at work, and our artillery at Hindoo Rao's were
answering them, and the shots from a light battery placed by the
flagstaff went singing away toward the right.
Warrener's Horse were now at the station assigned to them. The musketry
fire in the gardens and broken ground near Hindoo Rao's was very heavy,
and a large body of the enemy's cavalry was seen extending into the
plain, with the intention of pushing forward on the right of the Ridge.
"You will charge the enemy at once," an aid-de-camp said; and with a
cheer the Guides and Warrener's Horse dashed forward.
It was the moment they had longed for; and the fury with which they
charged was too much for the enemy, who, although enormously superior
in numbers, halted before they reached them, and fled toward the city,
with the British mixed with them, in a confused mass of fighting,
struggling men. The pursuit lasted almost to the walls of the city.
Then the guns on the wall opened a heavy fire, and the cavalry fell
back as the balls plunged in among them.
There were but two or three hurt, but among them was Lieutenant Quentin
Battye, a most gallant young officer, a mere lad, but a general
favorite alike with other officers and the men. Struck by a round shot
in the body, his case was hopeless from the first; he kept up his
spirits to the last, and said with a smile to an old school-friend who
came in to bid him farewell:
"Well, old fellow, _Dulce et decorum est pro patriá mori_, and you see
it's my case."
Such was the spirit which animated every officer and man of the little
army before Delhi; and it is no wonder that, day after day, and week
after week, they were able to repulse the furious attacks of the
ever-increasing enemy.
On the 9th, 10th, and 11th fresh sorties were made. Before daybreak on
the 13th a large force of the mutineers came out quietly, and worked
their way round to the left, and just as it began to be light, made a
furious assault on the company of the Seventy-fifth who were holding
the flagstaff battery. Warrener's Horse were encamped on the old
parade-ground, immediately behind and below the flagstaff, and the men
leaped from their beds on hearing this outburst of firing close to them.
There was a confused shouting, and then the major's voice was heard
above the din:
"Breeches and boots, revolvers and swords, nothing else. Quick, lads;
fall in on foot. We must save the battery at all hazards."
In a few seconds the men came rushing out, hastily buckling on their
belts, with their pouches of revolver ammunition, and fell into rank;
and in less than two minutes from the sound of the first shot the whole
were dashing up the steep ascent to the battery, where the tremendous
musketry fire told them how hardly the Seventy-fifth were pressed.
"Keep line, lads; steady!" shouted the major as they neared the crest.
"Now get ready for a charge; go right at them. Don't fire a shot till
you are within five paces, then give them three barrels of your
revolvers; then at them with the sword; and keep your other shots in
case you are pressed. Hurrah!"
With a thundering cheer the gallant little band fell on the mutineers,
many of whom had already made their way into the battery, where the
handful of white troops were defending themselves with desperation.
Struck with terror and surprise at this sudden attack, and by the
shower of pistol bullets which swept among them, the enemy wavered and
broke at the fierce onslaught, sword in hand, of these new foes; while
the Seventy-fifth, raising a shout of joy at the arrival of their
friends, took the offensive, swept before them the mutineers who had
made their way into the battery, and, joining the irregulars, drove the
mutineers, astounded and panic-stricken at the fierceness of the
assault, pell-mell before them down the hill.
The reinforcements had arrived but just in time, for Captain Knox, who
commanded at this post, and nearly half his force, had fallen before
Major Warrener's band had come up to their aid. The next day, and the
next, and the next, the sorties from the city were repeated, with
ever-increasing force and fury, each fresh body of mutineers who came
into the city being required to testify their loyalty to the emperor by
heading the attack on his foes. Desperately the little British force
had to fight to maintain their position, and their losses were so
serious, the number of their enemies so large, so rapidly increasing,
that it was clear to all that the most prodigious efforts would be
necessary to enable them to hold on until reinforcements arrived, and
that all idea of an early capture of the city must be abandoned.
Warrener's Horse, however, had no share in these struggles, for on the
day after the fight at the flagstaff a report spread among them that
they were again to start upon an expedition. A note had been brought in
by a native to the effect that several English ladies and gentlemen
were prisoners at the fortress of Bithri, in Oude, some hundred and
fifty miles from Delhi. The instructions given to Major Warrener were
that he was to obtain their release by fair means, if possible; if not,
to carry the place and release them, if it appeared practicable to do
so with his small force; that he was then to press on to Cawnpore.
Communications had ceased with Sir H. Wheeler, the officer in command
there; but it was not known whether he was actually besieged, or
whether it was merely a severance of the telegraph wire. If he could
join Sir H. Wheeler he was to do so; if not, he was to make his way on,
to form part of the force which General Havelock was collecting at
Allahabad for an advance to Cawnpore and Lucknow. It would be a long
and perilous march, but the troops were admirably mounted; and as they
would have the choice of routes open to them, and would travel fast, it
was thought that they might hope to get through in safety, and their
aid would be valuable either to Sir H. Wheeler or to General Havelock.
It was a lovely moonlight evening when they started. During their stay
at Delhi they had, profiting by their previous expedition, got rid of
every article of accouterment that could make a noise. Wooden scabbards
had taken the place of steel, and these were covered in flannel, to
prevent rattle should they strike against a stirrup. The water bottles
were similarly cased in flannel, and the rings and chains of the bits
in leather. Nothing, save the sound of the horses' hoofs, was to be
heard as they marched, and even these were muffled by the deep dust
that lay on the road. Each man, moreover, carried four leathern shoes
for his horse, with lacings for fastening them. Under the guidance of
two natives, the troop made their first six stages without the
slightest adventure. The country was flat, and the villages sparsely
scattered. The barking of the dogs brought a few villagers to their
doors, but in those troubled times the advantages of non-interference
were obvious and the peasant population in general asked nothing better
than to be let alone.
The troop always marched by night, and rested by day at villages at a
short distance from the main road. Upon a long march like that before
them, it would have been impossible to maintain secrecy by resting in
woods. Food for men and horses was requisite, and this could only be
obtained in villages. So far no difficulty had been met with. The head
men of the villages willingly provided provender for the horses, while
flour, milk, eggs, and fowls were forthcoming in sufficient quantities
for the men, everything being strictly paid for.
The last night march was as successful as the preceding, and crossing
the river by a bridge at Banat, they halted some five miles from the
fortified house, or castle, which was the immediate object of their
expedition. They were now in Oude, and had, since crossing the river,
avoided the villages as much as possible, for in this province these
are little fortresses. Each is strongly walled and guarded, and petty
wars and feuds are common occurrences. The people are warlike, and used
to arms, and without artillery even a small village could not be
carried without considerable loss. The troops therefore had made
circuits round the villages, and bivouacked at the end of their march
in a wood, having brought with them a supply of food and grain from the
village where they had halted on the previous day. They had not slept
many hours when one of the vedettes came in to say that there was a
sound of beating of drums in a large village not far away, and that
bodies of peasantry had arrived from other villages, and that he
believed an attack was about to take place.
Major Warrener at once took his measures for defense. The first troop
were to defend the front of their position with their carbines against
an attack. The second troop were to move round to the extreme end of
the tope, were to mount there, and when the enemy began to waver before
the musketry fire, were to sweep round and take them in flank. Major
Warrener himself took command of the dismounted troop, and posted the
men along behind a bank with a hedge, a short distance in front of the
trees. Then, each man knowing his place, they fell back out of the
scorching sunshine to the shade of the tree's, and waited. In half an
hour a loud drumming was heard, and a motley body, two or three
thousand strong, of peasants in a confused mass, with a tattered banner
or two, made their appearance.
The "Avengers," as Warrener's Horse called themselves, took their
places behind the bank, and quietly awaited the attack. The enemy
opened a heavy fire, yet at a long distance. "Answer with a shot or
two, occasionally," Major Warrener had ordered, "as they will then aim
at the bank instead of tiring into the wood. We don't want the horses
hurt."
Slowly and steadily the rifled carbines spoke out in answer to the
heavy fire opened on the bank, and as almost every man of Warrener's
Horse was a sportsman and a good shot, very few shots were thrown away.
The enemy beat their drums more and more loudly, and shouted
vociferously as they advanced. When they were within three hundred
yards Major Warrener gave the word:
"Fire fast, but don't throw away a shot."
Astonished at the accuracy and deadliness of the fire which was poured
into them by their still invisible foe, the enemy wavered. Their
leaders, shouting loudly, and exposing themselves bravely in front,
called them on, as slowly, and with heavy loss, the main body arrived
within a hundred yards of the hedge. Those in front were, however,
falling so fast that no efforts of their leaders could get them to
advance further, and already a retrograde movement had begun, when
there was a yell of fear, as the mounted troop, hitherto unnoticed,
charged furiously down upon their flank.
"Empty your rifles, and then to horse," shouted Major Warrener; and the
men dashed back through the tope to the spot in the rear, where four of
their number were mounting guard over the horses.
In three minutes they were back again on the plain, but the fight was
over. The enemy in scattered bodies were in full flight, and the
cavalry, dashing through them, were cutting them down, or emptying
their revolvers among them.
"Make for the village," Major Warrener said. "Gallop!"
At full speed the troop dashed across the plain to the village, whose
gate they reached just as a large body of the fugitives were arriving.
These gave a yell as this fresh body of horsemen fell upon them; a few
tried to enter the gates of the village, but the main body scattered
again in flight. The cavalry dashed in through the gates, and sabered
some men who were trying to close them. A few shots were fired inside,
but resistance was soon over, and the male inhabitants who remained
dropped over the wall and sought refuge in flight. A bugle call now
summoned the other troop from pursuit, and the women and children being
at once, without harm or indignity, turned out of the village, the
conquerors took possession.
"This will be our headquarters for a day or two," the major said, as
the troop gathered round him; "there is an abundance of food for horse
and man, and we could stand a siege if necessary."
Warrener's Horse was the happiest of military bodies. On duty the
discipline was severe, and obedience prompt and ready. Off duty, there
was, as among the members of a regimental mess, no longer any marked
distinction of rank; all were officers and gentlemen, good fellows and
good comrades. The best house in the village was set aside for Major
Warrener, and the rest of the squadron dispersed in the village,
quartering themselves in parties of threes and fours among the
cleanest-looking of the huts. Eight men were at once put on sentry on
the walls, two on each side. Their horses were first looked to, fed and
watered, and soon the village assumed as quiet an aspect as if the
sounds of war had never been heard in the land. At dark all was life
and animation. A dozen great fires blazed in the little square in the
center of the village, and here the men fried their chickens, or,
scraping out a quantity of red-hot embers, baked their chupatties, with
much laughter and noise.
Then there was comparative quiet, the sentries on the walls were
trebled, and outposts placed at a couple of hundred yards beyond the
gates. Men lighted their pipes and chatted round the fires, while Major
Warrener and a dozen of the oldest and most experienced of his comrades
sat together and discussed the best course to be pursued.
CHAPTER VIII.
A DESPERATE DEFENSE.
"Well, major, what do you think of the situation?" one of the senior
captains asked, after the pipes had begun to draw.
"It looks rather bad, Crawshay. There's no disguising the fact. We
shall have the country up in force; they will swarm out like wasps from
every village, and by to-morrow night we shall have, at the very least,
ten thousand of them round us. Against a moderate force we could defend
the village; but it is a good-sized place, and we have only twenty-five
men for each wall, and a couple of hundred would be none too little."
"But surely, major, we might prevent their scaling the walls. It is not
likely that they would attack on all sides at once, and without
artillery they could do little."
"They will have artillery," said Captain Wilkins, an officer, who had
served for some time in Oude. "These talookdars have all got artillery.
They were ordered to give it up, and a good many old guns were sent in;
but there is not one of these fellows who cannot bring a battery at the
very least into the field. By to-morrow night, or at the latest next
day, we may have some thirty or forty pieces of artillery round this
place."
"It will not do to be caught like rats in a trap here," Major Warrener
said. "For to-night it is a shelter, after that it would be a trap. But
about Bithri; I don't like to give up the idea of rescuing our
country-people there. Still, although the matter has been left to my
discretion, I cannot risk losing the whole squadron."
"What is the castle like, Warrener? have you heard?" Captain Crawshay
asked.
"A square building, with high walls, and a deep moat. Beyond the moat
is another wall with a strong outwork and gate. There are believed to
be a couple of guns on the outwork, and eight on the inner wall."
"Do you think they will attack us to-morrow, Wilkins? You know these
Oude fellows."
"They will muster strong, no doubt, and be prepared to attack us if we
sally out; but I should think if we remain quiet they would wait till
next day, so as to gather as many men and guns as possible."
"Then you think we ought to be out of this early?" Major Warrener asked.
"I don't say we ought to be, major; I only say we ought to be if we
intend to get off without having to fight our way through them. I
suppose the Bithri man is sure to come out to attack us?"
"Oh, no doubt," Major Warrener answered; "he has openly declared
against us."
"The thing would be to pop into his place, just as he is thinking of
popping in here," Captain Dunlop said, laughing.
"That's a good idea, Dunlop--a capital idea, if it could be carried
out. The question is, is it possible?"
Then gradually the plan was elaborated, until it finally was definitely
arranged as afterward carried into execution.
The night passed quietly, but fires could be seen blazing in many
directions over the plain, and occasionally a distant sound of drums,
or a wild shout, came faintly on the still air. Next morning Major
Warrener started early, with half a troop, to reconnoiter the country
toward Bithri. The party got to a spot within two miles of the castle,
and had a look at it and its surroundings, and were able to discern
that a great deal of bustle was going on around it, and that
considerable numbers of horse and footmen were gathered near the gate.
Then they rode rapidly back again, having to run the gantlet of several
bodies of natives, who fired at them. One party indeed had already
placed themselves on the road, about a mile from the village; but
Captain Kent, seeing with his glass what was going on, rode out with
his troop to meet the little reconnoitering party, and the enemy,
fearing cavalry on the open, fell back after a scattering fire, but not
quickly enough to prevent the horse from cutting up their rear somewhat
severely.
At eight o'clock large bodies of men could, be seen approaching the
village. These, when they arrived within gunshot, discharged their long
matchlocks at the walls, with much shouting and gesticulation. Major
Warrener's order was that not a shot should be returned, as it was
advisable to keep them in ignorance as to the long range of the Enfield
carbine.
"Let all get their breakfasts," he said, "and let the horses be well
groomed and attended to; we shall want all their speed to-morrow."
At eleven some elephants, surrounded by a large body of horse, could be
seen across the plain.
"Here come some of the talookdars," Captain Wilkins said. "I suspect
those elephants are dragging guns behind them."
"Yes, the fun will soon begin now," Captain Dunlop answered. "Now,
Dick," he went on to young Warrener, "you are going to see a little
native artillery practice. These fellows are not like the Delhi
pandies, who are artillerymen trained by ourselves; here you will see
the real genuine native product; and as the manufacture of shell is in
its infancy, and as the shot seldom fits the gun within half an inch,
or even an inch, you will see something erratic. They may knock holes
in the wall, but it will take them a long time to cut enough holes near
each other to make a breach. There, do you see? there are another lot
of elephants and troops coming from the left. We shall have the whole
countryside here before long. Ah! that's just as we expected; they are
going to take up their position on that rising ground, which you
measured this morning, and found to be just five hundred yards off. Our
carbines make very decent practice at that distance, and you will see
we shall astonish them presently."
The two forces with elephants reached the rising ground at the same
time, and there was great waving of flags, letting off of muskets, and
beating of drums, while the multitude of footmen cheered and danced.
By this time the greater portion of the little garrison were gathered
behind the wall. This was some two feet thick, of rough sun-dried
bricks and mud. It was about fourteen feet high. Against it behind was
thrown up a bank of earth five feet high, and in the wall were
loopholes, four feet above the bank. At the corners of the walls, and
at intervals along them, were little towers, each capable of holding
about four men, who could fire over the top of the walls. In these
towers, and at the loopholes, Major Warrener p
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