The island of Seringapatam is without exaggeration one of the fairest
jewels in the imperial diadem of our world-wide possessions. Embosomed
in the blue and sparkling wavelets of the Pacific Ocean, breathed upon
by the spicy breezes that waft their intoxicating perfumes through
endless groves of gigantic acacias, feathery fern trees, and
gorgeously coloured Indian acanthoids; studded with the glittering
domes of a profusion of jasper palaces beside which the trumpery
splendours of Windsor or Versailles are but as dust, and guarded by
the loyal devotion of an ancient warrior race noted not less for
the supreme beauty of its women than for the matchless courage and
endurance of its men, the Kingdom of Seringapatam offered during a
period of more than one hundred years a stubborn resistance even
to the arms of the all-conquering Britons. So great indeed, was the
respect extorted from the victors by the vanquished that when, owing
to the marvellous strategy of my old friend Major-General Sir BONAMY
BATTLEHORN, K.C.B., K.C.M.G., the island was finally subdued, it was
agreed that in all but their acknowledgment of a British Suzerainty
and the payment of an annual tribute of fifteen hundred gold lakhs,
the proud islanders were to maintain their independence and to
continue those forms of government which long tradition had invested
in their eyes with all the sanctity of a religion.
I had been present with my dear father at the great battle of the Dead
Marshes by which the fortunes of the islanders were finally shattered.
Never shall I forget the glow of exultant gratitude with which towards
the end of the day gallant old Sir BONAMY came cantering towards me
on his elephant. "Thank you, thank you a thousand times, my dear
ORLANDO," said the glorious veteran as he approached me; "it was that
last charge of yours at the head of your magnificent Thundershakers
that has converted defeat into victory, and assured Westminster Abbey
to the bones of BONAMY BATTLEHORN. All that is now necessary," he
continued, rising in his stirrups and waving his sword, "is that you
should complete the work that you have begun. Dost see that battery of
fifty guns still served by the haughty remnants of the Seringapatamese
bombardiers? Let them be captured, and nothing will stand between us
and the Diamond City of the Ranee."
I needed no further incitement. Gathering round me the few
Thundershakers who had escaped unscathed, I bade the standard-bearer
unfurl the flag of the brigade. In another moment we were upon them.
Cutting, slashing, piercing, parrying, trampling, crushing, we dashed
into the midst of the foe. Far over the field of carnage sounded our
war-cry, the famous "Higher up Bayswater!" which was to our horses as
the prick of spur. In vain the doughty bombardiers belaboured us; in
vain did they answer with the awful shout of "Benkcitibenk," which
none hitherto had been able to withstand. The work was hot, but in
less than three minutes the battery was ours, and the broken host of
the Ranee was streaming in full flight down the slopes from which
so lately they had dealt death amongst the English army. In another
moment we had limbered up--two men to each gun, except the largest,
which was assigned to me as the chief of the band--and helter skelter
down the hill we went, and so, with shouting and with laughter,
deposited our spoils at the feet of the British General.
I do not recount this incident in order to magnify my own exploits.
My deeds themselves are my best record, those deeds which a factious
majority in successive Parliaments has, to its everlasting shame,
refused to recognise, but which not even the voice of malice, always
busy in the task of depreciating genuine achievement, can rob of one
particle of their brilliant and immortal lustre. But the fight is
indissolubly connected with the stirring story which I have here set
out to relate, and for this reason alone have I mentioned it. During
the brief struggle round the guns I became momentarily separated from
the main body of my men. Seizing the opportunity, and noticing,
too, that in the previous _melée_ I had been unhorsed, two gigantic
artillerymen made at me. My sword was broken, my revolver was empty!
What was I to do? But little time for reflection was left to me. With
savage shouts the two dusky Titans sprang upon me. I gave myself up
for lost, shut my eyes, thought of my poor mother, saw in a flash my
happy country home, the thatched roofs of the cottages, the grey old
church, the babbling stream, the village school, the little shop
where my infant mouth had first become acquainted with the succulent
bull's-eye--in short, I went through all the symptoms that are
understood to accompany the imminence of a violent death. Suddenly,
however, the desire to live awoke once more. The smaller of my two
foes had outstripped his companion. He was just about to seize me,
when, lowering my head, which was encased in a spiked helmet, I
bounded at him. Fair and full I caught him, and so terrific was the
force engendered by my spring and the foeman's rush, that not the
spike alone, but the helmet and the head too, pierced him through and
through.
[Illustration: "Fair and full I caught him."]
Down on his back he fell crashing, bearing me with him as he went over
and fixing the spike firmly in the earth, pinned like some huge beetle
by a human pin. As my legs flew up they encountered the second giant,
and, winding round his chest, crushed every vestige of life out of
him and flung his mangled body full twenty yards to the rear. I had
escaped, but my position was still uncomfortably awkward. By this
time, however, the rout was complete, and four of my men, by dint
of tremendous exertions, succeeded in extricating me from my curious
entanglement. My pinned foeman turned out to be the Ranee's brother,
HADJU THAR MEEBHOY. We bore him back with us to camp, where,
marvellous to relate, after a prolonged illness, he eventually
recovered.
Of course he has never been quite the same man since. He has to
be careful about his diet, but with the childlike simplicity of an
Oriental he finds a constant pleasure in opening and shutting the
little aluminium doors which our dear old surgeon, TOBY O'GRADY,
constructed to replace the KHAN's stomach and the small of his back. I
came to be great friends with him and it was through him that I gained
the knowledge which prompted the adventure I am now about to relate.
(_To be continued._)
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