Through Three Campaigns: A Story of Chitral, Tirah and Ashanti, G. A. Henty [free e novels .txt] 📗

chief announced that they could now start for their summer home.

The news was received with general satisfaction, for the night watches and the constant expectation of attack weighed heavily upon them all. The decision was announced at dawn and, three hours afterwards, the animals were packed and they set out on the march. They had started a fortnight earlier than usual for, if they had waited till the usual time, their old enemies would probably have placed an ambush.

They travelled without a halt, until they were well among the hills. Then the wearied beasts were unladen, fires were lighted, and a meal cooked. But even yet they were not altogether safe from attack; and sentries were posted, some distance down the hill, to give notice of the approach of an enemy. The night, however, passed quietly; and the next evening they were high among the hills, and camped, for the first time for three months, with a sense of security.

It was determined to rest here for a few days, for they had almost reached the snow line. This was receding fast, under the hot rays of the sun, but it was certain that the gorges would be full of fierce torrents; and that, until these abated somewhat, they would be absolutely impassable. A week was extended into a fortnight. As the snow melted the grass grew, as if by magic; and the animals rapidly regained condition and strength. Then they started again and, after encountering no little difficulty and hardship, arrived at their mountain home.

"Now, sahib," the chief said the next morning, "I will keep my promise to you, and will send four of my men with you to Peshawar. The sun and the glare from the snow have browned you almost to our colour, so there will be no occasion for you to stain your face and, in Afghan costume, you could pass anywhere. Besides, you speak our language so well that, even if you were questioned, no one would suspect that you are not one of ourselves."

"How many days will it take, chief?"

"In five days you will be at Peshawar. I know not whether you will find an army assembled there, to march again into our country; but I hope that peace has been settled. It will take the tribes all the year to rebuild their houses. It will be years before their flocks and herds increase to what they were before and, now they have found that British troops can force their way through their strongest passes, that they can no longer defy white men to enter their lands, they will be very careful not to draw down the anger of the white man upon themselves. They will have a hard year of it to repair, in any way, the damages they have incurred; to say nothing of the loss of life that they have suffered. They have also had to give up great numbers of their rifles; and this, alone, will render them careful, at any rate until they replace them; so I do not think that there will be any chance of fighting this year, or for some years to come. I am sure I hope not."

"I hope not, also," Lisle said. "We too have lost heavily, and the expense has been immense. We shall be as glad as your people to live at peace. I think I may safely say that, if the country is quiet, a messenger will be sent up from Peshawar with the general's thanks for the way in which I have been treated; and with assurances that, whatever may happen, your village will be respected by any force that may march into the country. Probably such an assurance will be sent by the men who go with me."

Another fortnight was spent in the village, for the rivers were still filled to the brim; but as soon as the chief thought that the passes were practicable, Lisle, in Afridi costume, started with four of the men. All the village turned out to bid him goodbye; several of the women, and many of the children, crying at his departure.

The journey down was accomplished without adventure; the men giving out, at the villages at which they stopped, that they were on their way to Peshawar, to give assurances to the British there that they were ready to submit to terms. On nearing Peshawar, Lisle abandoned his Afridi costume and resumed his khaki uniform.

When he arrived at the town, he went at once to headquarters. The sentry at the door belonged to his own regiment; and he started, and his rifle almost fell from his hand, as his eye fell upon Lisle.

"I am not a ghost," Lisle laughed, "but am very much alive.

"I am glad to see you again, Wilkins," and he passed in at the door.

"Is the general engaged?" he asked the orderly who, like the soldier at the door, stood gazing at him stupidly.

"No, sir," the man gasped.

"Then I will go in unannounced."

General Lockhart looked up from the papers he was reading, and gave a sudden start.

"I have come to report myself ready for duty, sir," Lisle said, with a smile.

"Good heavens! Mr. Bullen, you have given me quite a turn! We had all regarded your death as certain; and your name appeared in the list of casualties, five months ago.

"I am truly glad to see you again," and he heartily shook Lisle's hand. "There is another in here who will be glad to see you."

He opened the door, and said:

"Colonel Houghton, will you step in here, for a moment?"

As the colonel entered the room, and his eye fell upon Lisle, he stood as if suddenly paralysed. The blood rushed from his cheeks.

"I am glad to see that you have recovered from your wound, sir," Lisle said.

The blood surged back into the colonel's face. He strode forward and, grasping both Lisle's hands in his own, said in broken accents:

"So it is really you, alive and well! This is indeed a load off my mind. I have always blamed myself for saving my life at the expense of your own. It would have embittered my life to the end of my days.

"And you are really alive! I thank God for it. I tried in vain to check my horse, but it got the bit between its teeth and, with my wounded leg, I had no power to turn him. As I rode, I pictured to myself your last defence; how you died fighting.

"How has this all come about?" and he looked at the general, as if expecting an answer.

"I know no more than yourself, Houghton. He had but just entered when I called you in."

"Now, Mr. Bullen, let us hear how it happened."

"It was very simple, sir. The Afridis were but twenty paces away, when I started the colonel's horse. I saw that fighting would be hopeless, so threw down my sword and pistol. I should have been cut up at once, had not their chief shouted to them to leave me alone, and to fire after Colonel Houghton. This they did and, I was happy to see, without success."

"Then the chief sent me off, under the guard of four men, to his village; with the intention, as I afterwards heard, of holding me as a hostage. A week later we moved down to the plain. When we had been settled in our winter quarters for about two months, we were attacked by a neighbouring tribe.

"By this time I had begun to pick up enough of the language to make myself understood. I volunteered to aid in the defence. The chief gave me his rifle, and I picked off a few of the leading assailants, and aided in the defence of the village. The enemy were beaten off with very heavy loss, and the chief was pleased to attribute their defeat to my advice.

"He at once declared that I was to regard myself no longer as a prisoner, but as a guest. I spent the next three months in getting up their language, which I can now speak fluently enough for all purposes.

"All this time, a vigilant watch had been kept against another attack and, as soon as the snow began to melt, we returned to the mountains. There we remained until the passes were open; and then the chief sent me down, with an escort of four, and I arrived here a quarter of an hour before I reported myself.

"I believe that I owe my life, in the first place, to the Afridi's surprise at my sending off Colonel Houghton on my horse."

"No wonder he was surprised, Mr. Bullen. It was a splendid action; and in reporting your death, I spoke of it in the warmest terms; and said that, had you returned alive, I should have recommended you for the V.C.

"I shall, of course renew the recommendation, now that you have returned."

Turning to Colonel Houghton, he said:

"You no doubt wish to have a further chat with Lieutenant Bullen and, as there is no special work here today, pray consider yourself at liberty to take him down to your quarters."

"Thank you, sir! I shall certainly be glad to learn further about the affair."

"If you please, General," Lisle said, "I have a message to give you, from the chief. He says that, henceforth, he will be friends with the British; and that if you ever enter his country again, he will do all in his power to aid you. He hopes that you will allow them to retain their rifles and, as they only amount to some three or four and twenty fighting men, I was tempted to promise him that you would."

"You were quite right, Mr. Bullen. I suppose the men who accompanied you are still here?"

"Yes."

"Tell them not to go away. I will myself send a message to their chief."

"We will write him a letter, Colonel Houghton, thanking him for his kindness to his prisoner; sending him a permit to retain his arms, and a present which will enable his tribe to increase their flocks and herds."

"Thank you very much, sir! I shall myself, of course, send a present of some sort, in return for his kindness."

"You talk the Pathan language with facility?"

"Yes, sir. I was five months with them, and devoted the chief part of my time to picking it up."

"You shall be examined at the first opportunity, Mr. Bullen; and the acquisition of their language, as well as your proficiency in Punjabi will, of course, greatly add to your claim to be placed on staff appointments; and will add somewhat to your income.

"I hope you will dine with me, this evening; when you can give me a full account of your life in the village, and of that fight you spoke of. It will be highly interesting to learn the details of one of these tribal fights."

Lisle accompanied Colonel Houghton to his quarters with a little reluctance, for he was anxious to rejoin his comrades in the regiment.

"Now, Bullen, tell me all about it," the colonel said. "I know that you lifted me on to your horse. I called to you to jump up behind, as the Afridis were close upon us; and I have never been able to make out why the horse should have gone off at a mad gallop, with me; but no doubt it was scared by the yells of the Afridis."

"When I lifted you up, sir, I certainly intended to get up behind you; but the Afridis were so close that I felt that it was impossible to do so, and that we should both be shot down before we got out of range; so I gave the horse a prod with my sword and, as I saw him go off at a gallop, I threw down my arms, as I told you."

"As it has turned out," the colonel said, "there is no doubt that the tribesmen, valiant fighters themselves, admire courage. If you had resisted, no doubt you would have been cut down; but your action must have appeared so extraordinary, to them, that they spared you.

"I have often bitterly reproached myself that I was unable to share your fate. You are still young, and I am old enough to be your father. I am unmarried, with no particular ties in the world. You have given me new interest in life. It will be a great pleasure for me to watch your career.

"If you have no objection I shall formally adopt you; and shall, tomorrow, draw out a will appointing you heir to all I possess--which I may tell you is something like fifteen thousand pounds--and shall make it my business to push you forward."

"It is too much altogether, Colonel."

"Not at all, Bullen; you saved my life, when certain death seemed to be staring you in the face; and it is a small thing, when I have no longer need of it, that you should inherit what I leave behind.

"In