"Wait," he said, "and then we shall have to be doubly watchful. They
will try to escape when we have overtaken the enemy; and our great peril
will be their betraying our presence; for we cannot play the lion now,
Gil; we must play the fox."
It was a wonder to me that we did not come upon any stragglers from the
force we were pursuing; but we did not overtake any; neither did we come
upon a broken-down horse.
"Plain proof," said Brace, "that they are taking care of them. Gil, my
lad, if we do not recapture those guns, they will prove to be deadly in
their injury to our side; for, depend upon it, those daring fellows will
train themselves to use them, and they will be terrible weapons in an
enemy's hands."
"More need for us to get them back," I said. "You don't despair of
overtaking them?"
"I will not," he said firmly; and then, to change the subject, "How did
you think our horses looked?"
"Very well. Why don't you ride?"
"Why don't you?" he retorted.
"Because all our poor fellows have to walk."
"Exactly, Gil; my reason. Wait a bit, and we'll mount them all. Ah, if
that time would only come!"
It did not then, nor yet for many days, during which we had steadily
followed the track, never once losing it; but I could note how weary
both Haynes and Brace grew.
"You see," said the former, "they must be making for some
trysting-place--one of the big towns, perhaps; and if they reach it, our
chance has gone."
"Don't let Brace hear you say that," I whispered; but from hints the
captain dropped that night, I was certain that he was thinking something
of the kind.
It was toward evening, after a fearfully hot day, during part of which
we had been forced to rest, while Dost had gone on in advance to
investigate, that we were toiling on through a very beautiful part of
the country--all green, and a succession of park-like patches and
plains, that were wonderfully refreshing after weary tramps over brown
deserts of dust, that we were suddenly checked by our advance men
announcing a native some distance ahead.
But as we reached the front, the distant figure held up its turban in a
peculiar way, and I exclaimed--
"Dost!"
The order was given to advance; and before we had gone far, the man, who
was hurrying to meet us, signed to us to bear off to the left; and five
minutes later, when we met, he pointed to a beautiful patch of forest,
into which we filed.
"Well, Dost, what now?" said Brace, gloomily.
"They are halting, sahib, only a short distance in front."
"Is there a town there?"
"No, sahib; only a large village at the end of a wide plain. We can get
round to the end, and perhaps see them."
"But are you sure it is the party we are tracking?" I cried excitedly.
"Oh yes, sahib. There are all the horses and guns. They were drawn up
in front when I came away."
"Ready to start once more," said Brace, eagerly. "Let's get on and see
if anything can be done."
Leaving Haynes in charge of the men who were allowed to rest in the
grateful shade of the forest edge, Brace called to me to accompany him,
and with Dost for our guide, we threaded our way among the trees for
nearly an hour, when Dost suddenly stopped short, as a shout fell upon
our ears, followed by a familiar trampling sound, with the jingle of
accoutrements, and rattle of gun and limber.
"They are going," said Brace, quickly; and hurrying forward, he made for
a spot where the forest looked lighter; and in another minute we had to
stoop down and shelter ourselves, for where we were the trees ended, and
a wide plain spread out far as eye could reach, while on the right was a
large village with a temple just on the banks of a river, whose bright
waters looked welcome in that thirsty land.
But we had no eyes for river or plain with such a scene between us and
the village as greeted us; for there, in very fair order, thanks to our
highly trained horses, was our little battery of six six-pounders, with
their limbers and mounted men complete; but, in place of the English
gunners and drivers in their laced jackets, breeches and boots, brass
helmets, and long scarlet horsehair plumes, the battery was manned by
dark-faced men in white, with turbans to match, and under the command of
a noble-looking chief in a turban that flashed in the sunlight with gold
or gems; while, even at the distance we were, we could make out that the
man in gay shawls and rich stuffs, who waved his sword as he cantered
along upon a magnificent arab, was Barton's old syce, Ny Deen.
"The scoundrel!" muttered Brace, whose hand played with the hilt of his
pistol as we crouched there, and I felt that if ever he came within
range, a bullet would lay him low.
As the troop went along at a trot, a thrill ran through me, and I felt
an intense longing to be mounted once more in my place; and from that
moment shared more intensely Brace's longing to recover the guns.
"They are on the march again," my companion whispered, as he used his
glass and went on making comments. "The guns look bright and clean; the
scoundrels, they know their value to them. But they cannot manage them
like our lads. Oh, Gil, boy, it is maddening to see them going off
under our eyes, and we able to do nothing."
"No," I said sadly; "it must be a surprise. We could do nothing even if
our men were here."
"Nothing," he replied as the rattle and tramp grew fainter, and horse
after horse that I recognised, from some peculiarity of colour or mark,
became merged in the crowd. "There must be a road through the village
and along by the river. Oh, Gil, if they had been going to stay there
for the night, I should have risked a surprise. Yes. There they go.
Well, we can see at last the direction they take, and if there is a
road, we'll risk a night's march, and try to come up with them. Our
horses--our guns--in the hands of that wretched crew! And look at the
groom dressed out in all that finery--plunder, I suppose. But only
wait."
At that moment I clutched at Brace's arm, and he gave quite a gasp of
relief, for all at once we saw Ny Deen turn his horse, gallop to our
left, and then pull up and face round while the troop wheeled to the
left, trotted steadily along past the village, wheeled again, and then
advanced parallel to the course we had seen them taking, but of course
in the reverse direction, so that if they went on far enough, they would
pass us about half a mile away.
"They're drilling," I whispered excitedly.
"Yes, drilling," cried Brace, and turning as he spoke. "Gil, lad, they
will halt here for the night."
He caught my hand in a tremendous grip, and his face lit up and his eyes
flashed with excitement as he uttered a curious laugh.
"Sit down, lad, and let's watch them," he cried mockingly. "We shall
have some lessons on the management of a troop. By George, look at the
dear old horses! They know the work so well that they are taking the
men with them. Look, Gil, there's poor Craig's grey Arab. There they
go. He wants to gallop, and that fellow has hard work to hold him in."
The troop was kept at a steady trot, and as it reached the part of the
plain facing us, we saw Ny Deen dash in front, wave his sword--a
flashing curved tulwar--and the horses were reined in, halted, and then,
after a minute's interval, during which we could hear the voice of the
leader giving orders, they advanced again, but this time at a walk,
while Ny Deen galloped on in advance, as if to map out the course he
meant the troop to take.
"The scoundrel rides well," muttered Brace, as we saw Ny Deen rein up
and throw his horse back almost on its haunches. "Pretty good that, for
a syce."
"It is the Maharajah of Ahdenpore, sahib," said Dost, who had crouched
behind us unnoticed, looking on and hearing every word we said.
"What!" cried Brace, harshly. "I can see. I know the man; Lieutenant
Barton's syce."
"Yes, sahib; but it is the great Maharajah. He came and worked as a
syce all that time, so that he might learn all about the drilling and
training of the guns. It was a plot--a cunning plot, sahib, and he was
waiting his time."
"Hah!" ejaculated Brace. "Yes. Too clever for us; but we may have our
day yet. Yes; they are drilling," he continued, as the troop wheeled
again, and began advancing toward the forest at whose edge we crouched
in hiding; but when they were about half-way toward us from the spot
where they had turned, there was another order, the troop wheeled into
line, and the men sprang down, unlimbered, the guns were trained, and we
saw slowly, but with fair regularity, the pieces brought into action,
the white-robed gunners going through the loading and firing drill,
ramming, sponging, firing, till about ten rounds had been discharged in
blank, when the order rang out again, and the guns were limbered up, and
retired three or four hundred yards before halt was again called, the
same performance gone through and repeated then in the advance, as if
they were sheltering the village, each halt being at the end of some
three hundred yards.
In this way they passed us, not two hundred yards distant, and we had to
lie close for fear of being seen.
Then a fresh movement was gone through, the troop was formed into column
again, and as we watched, the men were halted just in front of the
village, where they were dismissed, and the horses were trotted off to
various parts where there were sheds beneath the trees, the guns being
left in line, in front of the principal house of the place.
"They stay here for the night, Gil," said Brace excitedly.
"Yes, sahib, and they slept here last night."
"Ah," cried Brace; "you know?"
"Yes, sahib, I have been right through the village where the people are
staying. No one took me for a spy; it was there I learned that Ny Deen
was the Rajah of Ahdenpore. He is going to stay here--it is one of his
villages--and drill the men till they can gallop and fire quickly, then
he is going to join Shah Rogan's army, fifty miles to the north, and
they are to sweep all the white sahibs out of our land."
"_L'homme propose, et Dieu dispose_, Gil," said Brace, quietly. "So we
have run the rajah to earth, eh? Then the next best thing is to keep
our men out of sight, Gil, eh?" he continued cheerily. "Dost, you will
be faithful to us, I know. Perhaps we shall not all be swept out of the
country. Now then, cautiously," he said. "Hah, yes, they have sentries
placed. Rajah Syce is no fool. It was a clever, well-contrived scheme,
but he will have to work hard to keep those guns, Gil. Now, three hours
for rest and food; we must get strength, if we are to succeed."
"Have you a plan yet?" I said as we walked on in the shade of the
trees.
"None as yet. The only thing I have been planning is to make sure those
sepoy prisoners do not betray us. The rest will come."
Half an hour later we were back in our little camp, where Haynes had
sentries placed, and our evening meal ready.
"Any luck?" he said, in a tired voice.
"Yes," said Brace; "we have been watching a review of our troop. We
have run the enemy to his lair."
"And what next?"
"Hah! we must settle that after a sleep," said Brace, and I stared at
him in astonishment, he seemed so cheerful and calm.