Gil the Gunner, George Manville Fenn [fun books to read for adults txt] 📗
- Author: George Manville Fenn
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“Yes,” said the rajah, quickly; “and if there is danger, my people shall hide my old friends. It is war now, not against men we know, but against the Koompanni.”
“Let’s ride back to the rajah’s place,” said the doctor, in a whisper; “we may make some terms with him on the way.”
“Can we trust him?” replied Brace. “There is a look about him I hardly like.”
“Help the sahibs,” said the rajah; and then he made a sign, with the result that the mahouts made their elephants kneel down again, and, after a little hesitation, Brace mounted, and I followed him, while, after orders had been given for the second tiger to be placed on the pad elephant, we set off down the valley, the rajah riding abreast, while his armed men came behind, leading the pad elephant with the shikaree and the beaters.
The sun shone brightly as ever; the jungle growth away to right and left was glorious to behold, and the sky was of as vivid a blue as the edge of the forest was green; but it was as if a terrible black cloud had come down over us, and all were changed. We had ridden up that gorge full of excitement, and in the eager anticipation of a day’s sport; now we knew that we were on our way to face death and terrors that I shrank from contemplating.
From time to time Brace gave an order to our mahout, and he went on abreast of the little elephant which bore the doctor and the wounded man, when a short eager conversation took place; Brace being of opinion that the outbreak was only local, and that our course would be to send messengers at once east and west to the nearest stations for help; but the doctor took a more serious view of the case.
“Perhaps I’m wrong,” he said, “but I fear we have been growing this trouble for years past.”
“What do you mean?” cried Brace, impatiently.
“You ask me that?” said the doctor. “Well, I mean that your Bartons, of whom there are thousands through the country—as officers, magistrates, collectors, and the like—have been trampling down and insulting these people, till they have been crushed in the dust, till they could bear no more, and they have risen. Now do you ask me what I mean?”
Brace glanced at me as I was thinking of the handsome, patient syce at the barracks, and the treatment I had often seen him meet with; and then, as if reading my thoughts, he turned away with a look of despair.
“There is no hiding the fact, Brace,” continued the doctor. “I only hope I am exaggerating the troubles. But if I am right, I say, God help the wives and daughters of those who have them here, and may He spread his hands over the unfortunate children!”
His words seemed to cut through me with an agonising pain, as I mentally repeated his words—wives and daughters; and then I felt giddy, and as if I should fall from the howdah. “Wives and daughters!” I said aloud, and then, with a horrible feeling of despair, I pictured trouble at Nussoor, where my father’s regiment was stationed, and thought of my mother and sister face to face with the horrors of a revolt.
“Hold up, Vincent,” said Brace, in a sharp whisper. “What’s the matter? Feel the sun too much? Take some water, lad. I want your help. You must not break down.”
“No, no,” I said quickly; “I’m better now.”
“That’s right! We must get back and learn the full extent of the mischief. Yon poor fellow was excited, and he may have exaggerated the affair. He is as bad as can be, and perhaps he imagines that the rest were the same. Cheer up, lad! Lacey is too clever and experienced an officer to have been cut up like that. I dare say we shall find him looking out for us anxiously. Perhaps we shall meet an escort sent to meet us.”
Just then the rajah’s elephant came abreast, and its master reached out his hand with refreshments, which Brace declined, but the next moment took eagerly.
“Thank you,” he said quickly. “Eat, drink, Vincent,” he half whispered; “we shall want all our strength.”
“And you?” I said.
“Oh, I shall do the same,” he said bitterly; and then he held out his hand, and whispered softly, “We have been very poor friends lately, my lad, but shake hands now, for perhaps we are very near the end of life’s journey.”
“Brace,” I gasped as I snatched at his hand and gripped it hard.
“I hope not, for your sake, boy,” he said in a low voice; “for you have your young life before you. I hope not for my own. I may be very useful now. There may be a great deal to do, and if there is, my lad,” he said, smiling, “I am going to try not to be such a coward as to shrink from that duty; though you thought me one, because I would not fight the man who, perhaps, has had much to do with the rising.”
“Oh, Brace,” I faltered, “I don’t think I ever thought you a coward.”
“You did,” he said quietly. “Most people in your place, and educated as you have been, would have judged me in the same hard way. Perhaps I am one, Gil; but I shall not show it, and I shall not shrink from anything I have to do.”
“You think, then, that there is a wider trouble than that at the station?”
“I am obliged to think so. The doctor is right. I fought against it, telling myself I was panic-stricken, but I felt the same. You see the rajah knew of it, and—I am speaking plainly now—if matters turn out very bad, and I am not near you, try to get a horse and make for Nussoor. It is a very long journey, but the way may be open, and the trouble not spreading in that direction. At present your white face may command help and shelter, but don’t tarry on the way—the great north-west road, mind, and—”
“I shall keep with you,” I said quietly. “Let’s wait and know the worst.”
In another couple of hours we were at the rajah’s, and as the elephants halted and knelt down, Brace turned to their owner, who was conversing with a couple of horsemen.
“Now, sir,” he said, “I am not addressing the enemy, but the old friend and companion. You will let us have these two elephants as far as Rajgunge?”
“It is impossible, Captain Brace. I would help you, but I should bring down destruction on myself and people.”
“Then you will lend us a dhooly for this man, and people to carry him?”
“No. They would not carry him, or, if they did, they would halt on the road and attack you when you were not prepared. An evil spirit for you and yours has been going through the land for months, and now the fire has sprung up all round.”
Brace turned from him, and his face looked fixed and stern.
“Listen,” said the rajah, laying a hand upon his arm; “it would be madness to move that man. Ask the doctor. The man would be dead before you were half-way there.”
“I’m afraid so,” said the doctor, sadly.
“Leave him, then, with me. I give you my word that I will protect him. I sent for you all to come here, so that you might be safe. Stay.”
Brace was silent for a few moments, and then he held out his hand to the rajah.
“Thank you,” he said. “Forgive me for doubting you, but I cannot stay.”
“I tell you that you are going to your death,” whispered the rajah, earnestly. “The whole city is in revolt against your people; the sepoy regiment has slain all its officers, and your own men are scattered Heaven knows where.”
“How do you know?” said Brace, fiercely.
“Those men I was speaking with have ridden over from the town. They just gave me the news.”
Brace looked at the fierce-looking fellows, and knew that they were watching us intently.
“I will gladly take your offer for my man,” said Brace at last.
“And you yourselves?” said the rajah, eagerly.
Brace turned to us.
“What do you say?” he said.
“I shall follow my captain,” replied Haynes.
“Doctor?”
“I am an Englishman,” he said quietly.
Brace looked at me.
“Vincent!” he said, in a low hurried voice. “We have a painful tramp before us, and in all probability the buggies will not come to meet us. You are young and not used to such work as we have before us. The doctor will give you a few instructions, so you shall stop and look after Denny.”
I don’t know how it was—I make no professions of being brave, but a strange feeling of exaltation came over me then, and I said quickly—
“Don’t make me feel like a coward. I cannot stay; I must go with you.”
He looked at me fixedly for a few moments, and then turned to the rajah.
“Give us bread and wine,” he said.
The rajah pointed toward his house, but Brace refused to turn, and, in obedience to a command, a couple of men were sent in, and directly after three of the chiefs servants hurried out with refreshments and handed them to us.
We partook sparingly, and as we ate and drank Brace whispered—
“See, all of you, that you have plenty of ball cartridges.”
The order was needless, for we were all well supplied; and, five minutes later, a brief and distant leave-taking followed, and, shouldering our pieces, we set off, through the hot afternoon sunshine, to try and follow the track to the road. This reached, it would be one steady descent to Rajgunge, but, as we afterwards owned, not one of us believed that we should reach it alive.
Note 1. Budmashes are outlaws, footpads.
Note 2. Hathees are elephants.
“Seems too bad to leave my patient,” said the doctor. “Am I doing right?”
“You have dressed his wounds, and we are going to get help for him,” replied Brace.
“I hope so,” muttered the doctor. And then we toiled on and on, under the blazing sun, with our pieces growing so hot that they scorched our shoulders, but he man made a complaint, and two and two we tramped on, keeping a sharp look-out for the danger that might spring up at any moment.
“We must chance an ambuscade,” said Brace, quietly. “If we are attacked, and there is cover to be had, follow me to it at once. We four, with these rifles, ought to keep a pretty good party at bay. By the way, always hold your left hand barrels in reserve. We may want them to stop a rush.”
My recollection of that march is as that of some feverish dream; the sun came down with terrible power, and that which had been beautiful in the morning, from the howdah of an elephant, was now gloomy, painful, and apparently endless. Twice over we found that we had strayed from the track, and I had to turn and go watchfully back till we could see the great circular impressions of the elephants’ feet, and at last we reached the spot from whence we had started in the morning. There was the litter left by the rajah’s men when they had struck the shelter-tent, and followed us; there were the elephants’ footprints, and the marks of the stakes. But there was no sign of that which I had fondly hoped, in my parched and footsore state, might be in waiting—a couple of vehicles, ready to take us back. All was silent save the cry of a hawk soaring round and round in the blue sky, and once there came the sharp shriek of a jay.
We had now reached the road along whose dusty side we steadily trudged on, till we came in sight of Rajgunge, far away below us, and now bathed in the warm, ruddy glow of the setting sun.
We involuntarily halted, and, after a
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