An Old Man's Ruse
Had some terrible earthquake suddenly occurred, and set the walls of the
fort and the house attached to them tottering and swaying, those within
the courtyard could not have been more dismayed. The explosion which had
smashed the gates to splinters, the flash of the powder, and the
tremendous roar of the upheaval, followed by the clatter of falling wood
and masonry, brought consternation to the defenders, and in a moment
they were transformed into cravens, some of whom stared at the open
space in the wall, with its ragged edges still clad in a mantle of thin
smoke, as if they were fascinated, while others crouched on the ground,
their faces in their hands, dreading another explosion. Only Mulha,
Owen, and the aged owner of the fort kept their senses.
"They have beaten us, sahib," said the old man sadly, as he stood beside
our hero, and listened to the hoarse shouts of triumph which the enemy
sent up. "They will break in now without a doubt, and we shall be
killed. For myself, I shall not grieve, for I have seen the best of life
and am tired of the endless struggle against these lawless people. For
you and for these peons here I am sorry. You are young. The world was
before you. Doubtless you have friends over the water who will grieve.
All whom I love are within the house, and lest they should fall victims
to these robbers I will slay them myself. Yes, they shall die easily
rather than incur the ferocity of the horsemen."
"Steady! we must not be in a hurry," exclaimed Owen suddenly. "If they
are sure to kill us I at any rate will make a fight first. No giving in
to be peacefully slaughtered, thank you. Mulha, we'll line the gateway,
and show these fellows that we are not beaten. Now listen!"
He swung round upon the old man, who stood quietly beside him, evidently
resigned to his fate, and spoke as rapidly as possible, giving his
orders in a tone which told that he required them to be carried out
without question and without delay.
"Take half a dozen of the men and send them to us with more barrels,
with stones, anything you like. We will hold the gateway if possible
while they bring the things. They are to pile them in front of us. See
to it immediately. Now, Mulha, collect the bravest of the men and come
to the gate."
They ran across the narrow courtyard, gathering men as they went. They
shouted at the top of their voices to encourage the peons, and it was
not long before half a dozen of the natives had joined them, armed with
tulwars or muskets, while the remainder looked on in doubt. A minute
later, however, they stirred and came running forward, for Owen let them
feel no doubt as to what would be their fate if the enemy broke in.
"Choose for yourselves," he cried, so that all could hear. "Do you think
that those ruffians outside will spare a single one of you if you crouch
and offer no resistance. They will kill you in their own particular
manner. Fight while you have the opportunity. Come to the gateway, and
stand shoulder to shoulder with us. We can still keep them out, and in a
little while we shall have a barrier behind which we can fight."
It was very fortunate for the defenders that the Mahratta horsemen
outside did not dash forward at once to capture the place, for had they
come on the instant the explosion had occurred they would have burst
their way in without encountering any but the feeblest opposition. But
the men outside chose a very different course. While not lacking in dash
at other times, they were notoriously more venturesome when attacking
helpless villagers than when engaged with an enemy able to return hard
knocks for those which were given. Indeed, our former campaigns with the
Mahrattas had proved that this race of freebooters were as a whole
somewhat deficient in courage, and it was this very deficiency which
proved the salvation of those within the fort. The Mahrattas held back,
for the prowess of a single Englishman was sufficient to cool their
ardour, and Owen had already proved to them that he could fight. They
galloped backwards and forwards before the gateway, shouting defiantly
and waving their tulwars above their heads, while those who had
dismounted earlier contented themselves with a desultory fire, their
bullets sweeping in through the opening. Owen and Mulha made the most of
the delay. By dint of setting a gallant example, by persuasion and
almost by compulsion, they gathered the peons about them, and bidding
them lie flat on the ground urged them to push what remained of their
barrier into position. Then the men, whom the aged owner of the place
had taken with him, came running from the house with bales of cloth,
sacks of grain and rice, and any bulky package which would serve the
purpose.
"Let them run over to the side wall, and then come along at the foot of
the wall in which the rent is," Owen shouted. "They will escape the
bullets by doing so. Ah, those fellows outside are troublesome!" he
exclaimed, as one of the unfortunate peons, emerging into the courtyard
with a sack of rice on his shoulders, suddenly pitched forward on to his
face and lay there with arms and legs outstretched. "We must keep their
fire down. Mulha, send four of the men whom you judge to be cool and the
best shots to the top of the wall. They can fire from behind the
defences we built up. Hurry, now! They are collecting to attack us. We
must have everything in readiness."
He looked anxiously through the opening in the wall, now wide enough to
admit ten men side by side, and sheltering behind a couple of bags of
rice stared out at the enemy. It was clear that they were gathering for
the assault, for their leader had already led the horsemen to a spot
some two hundred yards away, where all had dismounted. And now they were
returning on foot, leaving a small guard with their animals, and he
noticed that every man carried a formidable tulwar in his hand, while
not a few had pistols, and some daggers of eastern shape and
manufacture. Owen turned his eyes towards his own command, and a thrill
of misgiving went through him, for against the well-armed host outside,
many of whom were clad in clothing capable of resisting a stout blow
from a sword, he had but a handful of almost naked peons, whose rolling
eyes and side glances showed that they were none too sure of themselves.
And some of these poor fellows were armed with ponderous muskets, from
which at the most only a couple of shots could be fired in a minute,
while others gripped rusty tulwars. One even carried a bow and a sheath
full of arrows; but very soon showed that he was possibly destined to be
more dangerous to the enemy than any of his comrades. As the Mahrattas
advanced he fitted an arrow to the string and peered out from behind the
barricade which was fast becoming of respectable proportions. Then Owen
saw him rise to his feet, take a hurried aim, and send his shaft at one
of the Mahratta marksmen who had risen from his cover to cheer on his
comrades.
"A good shot! Bravely done!" Owen called out, while he stood up and
pointed to the man. "He is closer in than any of his fellows, and that
is why you managed to reach him. A brave shot! He will be more careful
next time."
Indeed, when next he peeped in that direction he saw the man slowly and
laboriously crawling back; for he had advanced till very close to the
gateway, and until the sharp eye of the peon had detected him. And now
he was retiring, a sadder and a wiser man, with a shaft transfixing his
shoulder.
"Sahib, there are eight men here who have some knowledge of their
weapons," said Mulha suddenly, coming to Owen's side. "I have posted
four above, and here are the others. If placed within the house, where
they could send their bullets over our heads, they would perhaps compel
the enemy to withdraw. In any case they would cause trouble."
He pointed to the rickety-looking native house, built against the wall
opposite to that in which was the gateway, and indicated with a movement
of his finger a window which occupied the central post. Owen gave a
start of surprise, and putting his hand to his mouth, for the shouting
outside was becoming deafening, called loudly for the old man. A moment
later the four peons who had been selected by Mulha were racing for the
house, following in the wake of the figure of the owner, whose grey
beard streamed in the wind, while his thin legs cut across the ground at
a pace and in a manner which at another time would have brought a shout
of laughter from the onlookers. For this native was well advanced in
years, and a thriving farm, increasing wealth and possessions, and some
amount of power, had engrafted on him a degree of dignity which forbade
all such active movements. He was wont to pass quietly and majestically
amongst his peons, not to race across the yard with his beard and turban
flying in the wind, and his thin shanks exposed far above the knee.
However, necessity is the cause of many a change. In less than a minute
his anxious face appeared at the window, with the four men beside him.
"We can fire well from here, my lord," he called down in his
high-pitched, squeaky tones. "There is no danger of our hitting you at
the gate, though I am warning the men. Look, sahib, they are coming!"
His tones rose to a shriek, and as Owen stared through the gateway he
realised at once the reason for his sudden excitement. The Mahrattas
were coming. Gathered in a close mass they had advanced till just within
shot of the walls, and had halted while their leader harangued them,
walking up and down before them and waving his tulwar. But now they were
advancing once more, and on this occasion at a run, their eyes fixed
eagerly upon the heads of the defenders which now appeared above the
barricade erected within. Owen turned to his men and pointed to the
enemy.
"You see them for yourselves," he said in significant tones. "Let them
enter, and not a single man here will live to tell the story. Hold to
your posts, beat them back, and slay as many as you can, and you will be
proud men to the end of your days, and more than that, the news of your
success will keep others from coming. Now, let each act coolly. Not a
shot is to be fired from here till I give the word. Stand beside the
barricade, and do not allow a single one to climb over it."
By now, thanks to the enemy for the respite which they had given, and to
the frenzied labours of the men who had been carrying bags to the
barricade, the circle so hurriedly erected within the gateway was of
considerable dimensions. It was composed of every sort of material, of
fractured barrels, piled up masonry, bales, sacks and boxes, all heaped
haphazard one upon another, but for all that in such a manner as to
construct a wall some four feet in height. But, though it gave excellent
cover, it had one fatal fault. A resolute enemy, attacking from the
other side, could, if they tried, tear the wall to pieces within a few
minutes, or might with one vigorous rush overthrow it and come pouring
into the yard. Everything depended on the temper of the defenders, and
upon the courage which they showed.
"I will stand in the centre, Mulha, and do you take post a little on one
side," said Owen. "The others will close up to us. Remember, men, there
can be no turning back. I myself will shoot the first who ventures to
retire."
He looked grimly round at the peons, his pistol in his left hand, while
his sabre was firmly grasped in his right. There was an air of easy
assurance about him, the air which he had worn when fighting Hargreaves
on the ship. But in his heart he could not feel that assurance, for the
result of the contest was more than doubtful. It promised to end in
utter defeat and in the death of the defenders. Mulha thought that too,
for as the Mahrattas charged in at the gateway the faithful native edged
closer to his master, and catching his eye for the space of one second
salaamed to him gravely, as if bidding farewell. There was no time for
more, for like a stream which has overflowed its banks the dismounted
Mahrattas, each struggling to enter the gateway, struck in a long wave
against the wall, and those who happened to be opposite the entrance
came struggling and stumbling through the rent. Owen lifted his hand and
shouted to his men. Then as the report of their muskets broke out, and
shouts of excitement began to come from the peons in answer to those of
the enemy, he leaned his pistol on the top of the barricade and took
careful aim at the Mahratta leader, who, seeing his design, held back
for an instant. But his own men pressed him on. In a moment he was well
within the gateway, and seeing the impossibility of retiring, he
summoned all his courage and sprang at the white officer behind the
barricade. Click! The hammer fell, but there was no answering flash. The
weapon had missed, and the Mahratta had escaped. But it was only for an
instant. An example was required to put heart into the peons, and Owen
set it. With a shout of anger at the failure of his weapon he sprang on
the top of the barricade, and shifting the pistol into his right hand
threw it with all his force at the leader. There was a dull crash as the
loaded butt struck his head, and then a rousing shout of triumph.
"He is down! Fight! Beat them back! Drive them from the wall!"
It was Mulha who voiced the words, and a shout of defiance and triumph
burst from the peons. Desperation had hitherto helped to keep their
courage up, though the numbers opposed to them brought dismay to the
majority. But as Owen struck the Mahratta leader to the ground, their
determination to hold the place was suddenly increased. Like a flash
they saw that what he had done might be accomplished by others. They had
a wall in front of them, and a white man to lead them. All was not
hopelessly lost, and at the thought they threw themselves upon the
Mahrattas fiercely. The struggle which followed was carried on with the
utmost determination, and for a little while it seemed as if Owen and
his men would drive the enemy clear of the gateway. Tulwars clashed
against tulwars, muskets and pistols flashed, while the air was rent
with deafening shouts, with the shriek of the wounded, and with the loud
reports of fire-arms. From the wall above stones were tossed down upon
the Mahrattas, while the four men posted in the window of the house kept
up a steady fire. Indeed, the defenders did their utmost. But numbers
were beginning to tell, while some five of the peons had already been
killed or severely wounded. Owen still held his place in the centre, and
standing on the barricade thrust and cut savagely at the enemy. Mulha
had edged still closer, and his keen blade rose and fell, guarding a cut
here, and returning it with lightning-like rapidity, or darting over
there to parry a cut made at the white sahib. If bravery and
determination could have brought the victory, it would have been theirs.
But the Mahrattas were far too many for them, and their anger and hate
had been raised to a high pitch by the losses they had already
sustained. By now they were pressing against the barricade, which in one
part was almost levelled. In a minute they would probably sweep the
obstacle aside and force their way in. The end was close at hand, and as
Owen unconsciously noticed how matters were going, and sought for a
remedy as he struck with his sabre, he could think of nothing. He must
stand there fighting to the last till some of the robbers threw
themselves upon him and cut him to pieces.
But there was one within the fort who had a remedy, and he came to the
rescue with a shriek of excitement which rose above the shouts of the
combatants and the roar of the muskets. It was the old man who had first
induced Owen and Mulha to enter, offering them a haven when the
Mahrattas galloped out to surround them. Suddenly emerging from the
house he raced across the courtyard at his topmost speed, and arriving
at the stone stairway, ascended it with a succession of agile leaps,
four steps at a time. Then he sped along the narrow pathway on the wall
till he reached the very edge where the masonry had been blown away. No
one seemed to notice him, for all were engaged in the deadly contest
below, while those of the Mahrattas who still remained outside for the
reason that there was no room for them within the gateway, pressed
against their comrades, hoping by sheer force to drive them through the
barricade. And as they pressed they watched the contest with eager eyes,
failing to note the figure of the old man above.
For a few seconds he stood there, bending over a bundle which he
carried beneath his arm. Then he threw off the rag which formed the
outside covering, and disclosed a cask of small dimensions, to the top
of which he held a smoking brand. Not till then did the enemy catch
sight of him, and when they did they were helpless to interfere. Some
shouted at the top of their voices to warn their comrades, while others,
on the outskirts of the attacking crowd, took to their heels without a
moment's hesitation. And meanwhile the old man held his small brand to
the cask, till the fuse which emerged from an auger-hole began to
splutter. Then he threw the brand behind him, and looking down sought
for the best spot in which to toss the barrel. A moment later he had it
poised above his head, and seemed to be in the very act of throwing it.
And all the while the fuse spluttered, sending out a cloud of thin
sulphurous smoke.
"Throw it! Blow them to atoms! Send it now, or you will be killed!"
Mulha had caught sight of the figure above, and realising in a flash
what he was about to do shouted to the old man. But he did not stir, or
attempt to throw his missile. He stood there, poising the barrel,
looking from the struggling mass below to the spluttering fuse, as if he
were fascinated; and while he waited the train which he had fired swept
down the fuse with appalling rapidity. It was barely an inch from the
auger-hole now, and in less than a minute it would disappear within. And
then----
"Is the man mad? Throw it!" shouted Mulha, while the men stationed in
the window behind repeated the warning, bellowing the words at the top
of their voices, and with all the force of their lungs.
"Throw it, master! You will be blown to atoms. Toss it into the robbers
and send them to the sky!"
And if they wondered why he still clung to his bomb, as if seeking his
death, the Mahrattas marvelled even more. The shouts of warning had
reached their ears, and not a man but had turned his eyes upon the
figure above. Instantly they were thrown into a panic, and forgetful of
the white officer and his peons they turned in desperate haste, and
mindful only of the bomb and of the figure above they struggled to get
out of the gateway with more desperation than they had shown when making
the attack. There came a shriek of triumph from the old man, a shriek
which set the enemy quaking.
"Forward!" he shouted, waving the barrel as if to attract Owen's
attention. "Forward, sahib, and cut them up!"
"Back! Run in here well behind the wall!" cried Owen. "The poor fellow
has gone mad. If we were to charge we should be blown to pieces when the
powder explodes. Lie down, men, close to the wall, and wait till it is
over."
"Sahib, I think he is right. Let us charge," gasped Mulha, coming
suddenly to his side. "The old man has played a cunning trick upon the
enemy. He has no bomb. The cask is probably empty."
If there had been any doubt about the matter the native set it at rest
on the instant. Realising that the white sahib and his men were as
fearful of the expected explosion as were the enemy, and that what was
clear to him was not so to them, he bent down so that the enemy could
not see him, and brought the cask against the side of the wall with a
bang which broke it to pieces.
"Empty! See!" he shouted. "Forward! Do not delay an instant! By Allah,
they will escape us!"
Then it was all a ruse! After all, the old man who owned the fort had
snatched his peons and the white sahib from disaster. It was almost
incredible, but none the less true. Owen grasped the meaning of the
antics of the native, and at once leapt to his feet.
"After them!" he shouted. "Keep together, and do not go far from the
walls. We will teach them to leave us alone in future."
Waving his sabre aloft he put himself at the head of the peons, who were
now overflowing with courage and eagerness, and vaulted over the
barricade. The Mahrattas were almost clear of the gateway, and as our
hero rushed at them the last of the attackers fled from between the
shattered walls. But they were not to escape so lightly, and had yet to
receive punishment for the injury they had done. Owen saw that panic had
got a firm grip of them, and emboldened by that he led his men far from
the walls. Gathered in a close knot they dashed out, cutting down all
who stood in their way, and did not halt till they were at least fifty
yards from the walls. By then they had slain a number of the stragglers,
while the rest were in full flight.
"Now, halt and pepper them with your muskets," shouted Owen at the top
of his voice, for the din was tremendous, and the excitement of the
peons beyond description. "Lie down here and send your bullets into them
as they mount."
A few of the men happened to have their weapons loaded, and at that
moment the four marksmen who had been posted on top of the wall,
together with those who had been in the window, came up with their
comrades, and adding their fire caused a considerable amount of
execution in the ranks of the enemy, who meanwhile had rushed to their
horses and were engaged in mounting them. For a little while there was a
scene of the utmost confusion, for some men took any horse which
happened to be nearest, while others, finding their own mounts gone,
went in search of them. Finally, galled by the fire of the muskets, and
filled with an unaccountable panic, the whole mass of Mahratta horse
galloped away, leaving some thirty of their fellows on the ground. And
long ere Owen or Mulha could inspect the wounded or interfere they were
dead, slain by the infuriated defenders; for this was war to the knife,
and any of the freebooters who had brought such misery to the country,
and who might chance to fall into the hands of the people, could expect
no mercy at all.
"That is the last that we shall see of the gang," said Owen, when they
were out of sight "But in case they should take heart and return we will
make ready for them. Set the men to work to rebuild the barricade, and
let us have double as many sacks."
"They will not dare to come near this part of the country again,"
exclaimed the old native, with an emphatic shake of his head as he came
up to Owen. "Still, we will be prepared. They have had a lesson, sahib,
and thanks to you, they have lost their leader. But for the arrival of
the white lord we should all have been slain by now."
"Thank yourself," answered Owen heartily. "We were cornered. The attack
was going against us when you ran up with your bomb. To you alone we owe
our safety and deliverance."
"Nay, sahib, that is not the whole truth. It is a fact that when matters
were going badly for us an old man's wit saved the situation. It came as
a flash to me. There was the barrel, empty as it happened, and near at
hand was a piece of rag. I wetted it with a few drops of water and made
a fuse while the struggle was at its height. Then I bored a hole with an
instrument which happened to be handy, and seizing a brand ran to the
walls. I know these marauders. Death has no favours for them. They are
bold where there is no danger to themselves, and cruel to a degree; but
they will not stand when such a fate awaits them. See how they ran! But
though it was I who brought about their flight, I do not disguise from
myself the fact that it is to the sahib that we owe our lives. The peons
would have handed you over to the enemy but for your courage and
opposition. Then they would surely have flinched and given in had you
not set an example. Let us not argue, my lord. I who own this place am
beholden to you, and I thank Allah that you rode hither this morning."
The old man almost swept the ground with his beard as he salaamed, and
as Owen looked at him he knew that he was grateful.
"How many men are killed?" he asked suddenly, turning to Mulha.
"Seven, sahib, and eight are wounded. But what of my master? See here!"
He pointed to Owen's riding-boot, which had been cut right through at
one spot just above the ankle by a blow from a tulwar. The blade, as
sharp as a razor, had severed the leather, and had then cut to the bone.
Owen laughed gaily as he looked down at the boot, for his heart was
light, a huge weight was taken from his mind, and the wound was of no
consequence.
"I had forgotten," he said, as Mulha bent to inspect the injury, a look
of anxiety on his face. "A fellow cut at me when I was engaging a
second, and I had only time to ward off the blow partially. Otherwise I
fancy it would have lopped the leg off. We'll take the boot off and
empty the blood out. Then a handkerchief will set the matter right. One
moment, though. While these Mahrattas are galloping away let us search
the bags and the pockets of those who have fallen. There are some poor
fellows here, chief, who have been killed or who are wounded. It would
be a fine thing to divide the spoil amongst them or their families."
"The sahib has a generous mind. We will do as he says."
The old man went off to superintend the matter, while Mulha bound up his
master's injury. An hour later the look-out from the tower above
announced the fact that the enemy had ridden out of sight.
"Then we will ride away," said Owen. "Bring the horses, Mulha."
Some minutes later, when the native came forward, he was leading the two
animals which they had ridden that morning, and in addition four others,
all of which still carried their handsome native saddles.
"This is our portion of the loot taken from the enemy, sahib," he said,
with a movement of his eyes which Owen knew so well, and which showed
without doubt that he was delighted. "There were thirty stray horses to
choose from, and these are the pick. This belonged to their chief. The
sahib will find that he is the best-mounted officer in his regiment."
A few minutes later they bade farewell to the old man and his peons, and
followed by their blessings rode out from the fort, a hole being made in
the barricade to enable them to do so. They were laden with provisions,
which were tied to the saddles of the Mahratta horses, while Owen
himself bestrode the fine animal which had belonged to their chief.
Turning their faces to the hills they rode on at a steady trot, and
arrived just as night was falling at the spot where the troops were
camped. They were greeted with shouts of welcome, and hurriedly told
their tale. Then the Major was able to impart a little information to
our hero.
"Perhaps you'll not be interested," he said, with his bantering smile,
"for you seem always to have some little adventure of your own afoot,
but we're close to the army--Wellesley's, I mean. The news was brought
in soon after you left us, and to-morrow we shall be up with the main
body. There is work ahead, for we hear that some big place is about to
be attacked. Make ready, Owen, for very soon, if things turn out
properly, you will be one of the assaulting party, and will have an
opportunity of fighting your way in through the breach made by our
guns."
He forgot that this young officer belonged to the cavalry, and would
hardly be engaged in such a duty. But the news roused Owen to a high
pitch of enthusiasm, and when he turned in that night, and the tingling
of the slight wound he had received would allow him to sleep, he dreamed
that the position of affairs that day had been changed, that the
Mahrattas held the gateway in the wall of the fort, and that he and the
peons were engaged in a fierce attack. It was not till the figure of the
chief of the Mahrattas appeared above, ready to toss a bomb upon them,
that he awoke, to find the dull gleam of dawn stealing into his tent,
while he himself lay shivering, his nightmare having resulted in the
covering in which he was wrapped having been kicked aside. With a
grumble he rolled himself in it again and fell asleep, oblivious of past
and future.