Gil the Gunner - George Manville Fenn (people reading books .TXT) 📗
- Author: George Manville Fenn
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Book online «Gil the Gunner - George Manville Fenn (people reading books .TXT) 📗». Author George Manville Fenn
The feeling was fast growing upon us that the tiger had gone right on and out of the valley into the open country, when once more an elephant trumpeted, and told of our being near the object of our search.
Heat and fatigue were forgotten directly, the elephants were urged on by the mahouts, and cane-brake and reed-flat were searched, long grass was ridden through, and for a couple of hours more we were on the tiptoe of expectation, but found no tiger, till just as we were growing thoroughly dispirited, and felt that we must be driving it lower and lower, and helping it to escape, the monster bounded out from a cluster of loose rocks, faced us, and rolled over at a shot from the doctor’s rifle.
It sprang up again with a tremendous roar, and stood open-jawed, glaring at us as if considering which it should attack, when the rajah and Brace fired at the same time, and the monster rolled over again to struggle feebly, and then stretched itself out—dead.
“Never mind, Vincent,” said the doctor, clapping me on the shoulder; and then addressing the others with us: “Your turn next; and you have been in at the death.”
“Look! look!” I cried suddenly.
“What is it?”
“On that little elephant coming up the valley; isn’t it one of our men?”
Brace heard me, and took out the little glass slung from his shoulder.
“Yes,” he said. “It must be a message from the major. Good Heavens! I hope there is nothing wrong.”
A word or two in Hindustani from the doctor to the mahout, and our elephant began to shuffle toward the one coming, for Brace had gone on at once.
Our elephant made a good circuit to avoid the dead tiger, holding his trunk high, and evidently in doubt as to whether the beast was feigning death; and directly after we were close up to the messenger, whom I saw to be Denny, the man who had come over in the Jumna, and whose sweetheart I had jumped overboard to save.
“What is it, Denny? Anything wrong?” cried Brace.
The man gave him a wild look, and nodded his head, as he held on by one hand to the rope which secured the elephant’s pad.
“Well, well!” cried Brace, excitedly; “what is it? Speak.”
The man’s lips parted, and one hand went up towards his head, while the mahout who had brought him looked back with his face full of horror. Then, as our elephant was urged up on the other side, the doctor reached over from the howdah, and by a quick movement caught the poor fellow’s arm just as his hold had given way, and he was about to pitch off the pad to the ground.
“I thought so,” cried the doctor, helping to lower him down. “He was fainting. The poor fellow has been wounded—badly, too!”
“What is this? How did he get hurt?” cried Brace to the mahout in Hindustani.
“My lord, I don’t know. He came on a poor horse, and ordered me to come to you. My lord, he is very bad.”
Just then the rajah came up, and I fancied there was a peculiar look in his face. He had changed colour, and seemed wild and strange, and when Brace fixed his eyes upon him he averted his gaze.
I noticed all this, but our attention was taken up by the wounded man, to whose side we had rapidly descended, all thought of tigers being now at an end.
“The poor fellow has been set upon by budmashes as he was on his way here with a despatch,” said Brace. “Let me come a minute, doctor, and search his pockets.”
“Hang the despatch, man!” said the doctor sternly. “I want to save the lad’s life.”
He was down on his knees by Denny’s side, and had taken out his pocket-book and thrown it open, displaying surgical instruments, needles, silk, and bandages.
“Here, Vincent, come and help me,” he said. “Some of you cut a branch or two and shade us from this awful sun. Now, Vincent, slit open that sleeve; never mind damages. Hah! I thought so. That’s one exhauster.”
As the man’s arm was bared, the doctor caught my hand, and made me seize and press upon an artery high up in the limb; for from a terrible gash the blood was pumping out in regular pulsations, and as this act checked the bleeding a little, the doctor rapidly found and tied the divided artery, and then bandaged the wound.
“That was the most dangerous,” he said. “Now, then, what next? Cut on shoulder, not serious—ugly gash on head, bad—stab in thigh—must have been mounted—bullet in muscles of shoulder, fired evidently as the man was escaping. Hah! enough for one poor fellow. Now, Vincent, we’ll stop the bleeding, and then we must have him carried on a litter under shelter.”
“Couldn’t he bear the motion of the elephant?” said Brace.
“No! Yes,” said the doctor; “perhaps it would be best. While we are waiting for a litter we could get him to the rajah’s. There, I think he will not hurt. You may try for your despatch now.”
Brace and I tried the man’s pockets, and the doctor thrust his hand into the breast, but the result was nil.
“No despatch,” said Brace, uneasily; and I saw his face wrinkle up, as if he were puzzled and anxious. “Let’s get him on the little pad elephant; it will be easier.”
“Now,” said the doctor, who had been bathing the poor fellow’s forehead and trickling water between his parched lips, “he’s coming to. Don’t question him; leave it to me.”
For at that moment the man’s face twitched a little, and he began to mutter excitedly; his words being plain enough to those near.
“Cowards!” he said. “Treachery—you dog—it’s murder! Look out, boys! Ah—sentry—the gate!”
He uttered a low groan and was silent.
“Not attacked on the road,” said Brace, excitedly.
“No,” said the rajah, hastily; “my people would not attack him.”
“There’s something wrong at the barracks,” cried Brace, excitedly. “He said treachery.”
I felt the blood thrill through my veins at these words; and then I stepped closer to Gunner Denny, whose eyes had now opened widely, and he was staring wildly round, till his gaze rested on me, and he made a sign to me to bend down.
“Look out, sir,” he said, in a faint voice. “Ah! Water!”
His eyes seemed to film over, but as water was trickled between his lips, he swallowed a little with difficulty, and revived, while we leant over him, listening intently for his next words.
“Mutiny,” he panted; “don’t go back.”
“What!” cried Brace; and I saw a movement amongst the rajah’s people, and they gathered round him.
“This morning,” said Denny, faintly. “Quarters seized; Major and Mr Barton cut down.”
“Great Heavens!” cried Brace.
“Masters of the barracks—Sepoy regiment—down town—murdered their officers—I—got away—came on, and—”
He uttered a low sigh and fainted.
“Dr Danby! You hear?”
“Yes,” said the doctor, in a low voice. “What I always feared. They’ve risen against us at last.”
“But both regiments? Absurd!”
“No; of course our men wouldn’t. And they’ve seized the barracks, I gather. Brace, old fellow, we’re in for it. The storm has broken.”
“I don’t understand you. There is trouble with the native infantry regiment, I suppose, and some of the men have gone up and seized our barracks. Oh, why was I not there?”
“Because you’ve other work to do, man,” whispered the doctor. “Look at the rajah. Brace, old fellow, we shall have to fight for our lives. This is the first flash of the fire; the whole country is rising in revolt.”
“No, no; impossible!” said Brace. Then, turning to the rajah, he saw that in his face which made him flash into a tempest of passion, and he seized the double rifle he had thrown on the ground, cocked both barrels, and advanced furiously toward the chief, while at his first menace the men advanced, drew their tulwars, slung their shields round from where they hung over their shoulders, or presented spears.
“You dog!” roared Brace, whose manner had completely changed. “You knew of all this!”
The rajah waved one hand to his men, who stopped short, scowling angrily, and with their dark eyes flashing, as, following my captain’s example, I cocked my own piece.
“Captain Brace will not fire on his host,” he said, in very good English, and I saw his nostrils quivering as he spoke and stepped forward. “We have eaten salt and are brothers.”
Brace lowered his piece and I did the same.
“Yes, I knew of it,” said the rajah, quietly.
“That the men of the native regiment meant to mutiny,” cried Brace, “and did not warn us?”
“I knew and did not warn you,” said the rajah, quietly.
“What treachery!”
“No,” said the rajah, “not treachery. I have held my hand. I would not join, but I could not go against the people.”
“But why—why have the men mutinied?” cried Brace, as the doctor and my companions listened excitedly.
“Because they were told,” replied the rajah. “Can you not see? The storm has been gathering for years, and now it is spreading fast. The great Koompanni is no more, and their people are being scattered like the dust.”
“What I have always feared,” muttered the doctor.
“And you call yourself my friend—the friend of the officers who have welcomed you at our mess, whose hands you have pressed a hundred times.”
“Yes,” said the rajah, with a grave, sad smile, “and I have proved that I am your friend.”
“But you owned that you knew of the mutiny.”
“Yes, and asked you and the other English officers here to-day.”
“To enable the men to seize the barracks.”
“No; to save your lives,” said the rajah. “Those who came lived; those who stayed away are dead.”
Brace looked at him coldly, and then turned to us.
“Quick!” he said, “let’s mount and get back. Help the wounded man. Doctor, you will ride with him?”
“Of course.”
“What are you going to do?” said the rajah, quickly.
“Go back to Rajgunge,” said Brace, sternly.
“To certain death?”
“To bring these madmen to their senses. Rajah, you will let the hathees bear us back?”
“To my place? Yes. No further.”
“What?”
“I have saved your lives, and must try and keep you from harm. I cannot let you have the hathees. I will not fight against the Koompanni. It has always been just to me, but I cannot, I dare not, fight against the people of my country.”
“Then we shall take them,” said Brace, sternly. “Quick, make ready. Doctor, mount that small beast with the wounded man, and go first. We will cover your retreat, if any one dares to stop us.”
The doctor prepared to mount without a word, and we pressed up to the huge elephant that the doctor and I had ridden; but the rajah passed his rifle to one of his men and came to us.
“Don’t be so mad, Captain Brace,” he said quietly, “I tell you I am your friend.”
“No. You are with the enemy, sir. Stand back.”
“No. I will not see you go straight to your death like that; neither will I give my life by supplying you with my hathees. It would be death to me and mine.”
“Stand back, sir.”
“Speak to him, Vincent,” said the rajah. “Tell him I must order my people to stop you. It is madness—death; you against all my people.”
Brace stopped short.
“You will order your men to fight,” he said; “in other words, you join in the revolt against your Queen.”
The rajah smiled, and, with true Eastern cunning, paid—
“I shall order my men to protect their chiefs property. Those are my hathees. They shall not go and show the men who have risen that I have helped you. Come, be wise. Stop here, and I will give you refuge. Where can you flee better?”
“To where men are faithful to their Queen.”
“It is of no use, Brace,” said the doctor. “Make a virtue of necessity, man.” Then, turning to the rajah, “You
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