SAVE BY A TIGER.
The drivers of the bullock-carts were startled at the noiseless
appearance by their side of a body of horsemen; still more startled,
when suddenly that phantom-like troop halted and dismounted. The rest
was like a dream; in an instant they were seized, bound, and gagged,
and laid down in the field at some distance from the road; one of them,
however, being ungagged, and asked a few questions before being finally
left. The wounded, all past offering the slightest resistance, were
still more astonished when their captors, whom the moonlight now showed
to be white, instead of cutting their throats as they expected, lifted
them tenderly and carefully from the wagons, and laid them down on a
bank a short distance off.
"Swear by the Prophet not to call for aid, or to speak, should any one
pass the road, for one hour!" was the oath administered to each, and
all who were still conscious swore to observe it. Then with the empty
wagons the troops proceeded on their way. At the last clump of trees, a
quarter of a mile from the castle, there was another halt. The troop
dismounted, led their horses some little distance from the road, and
tied them to the trees. Twenty men remained as a guard. Four of the
others wrapped themselves up so as to appear at a short distance like
natives, and took their places at the bullocks' heads, and the rest
crowded into the wagons, covering themselves with their cloaks to hide
their light uniforms. Then the bullocks were again set in motion across
the plain. So careless were the garrison that they were not even
challenged as they approached the gate of the outworks, and without a
question the gate swung back.
"More wounded!" the officer on guard said. "This is the third lot.
Those children of Sheitan must have been aided by their father. Ah,
treachery!" he cried, as, the first cart moving into the moonlight
beyond the shadow of the gateway, he saw the white faces of the
supposed wounded.
There was a leap from the nearest driver upon him, and he was felled to
the ground. But the man at the open gate had heard the cry, and drew a
pistol and fired it before he could be reached. Then the British leaped
from the carts, and twenty of them scattered through the works, cutting
down those who offered resistance and disarming the rest. These were
huddled into the guardroom, and five men with cocked revolvers placed
at the door, with orders to shoot them down at the first sign of
movement.
The garrison in the castle itself had been alarmed by the shots; and
shouts were heard, and loud orders, and the sentries over the gate
discharged their muskets. There was little time given them to rally,
however; for Captain Kent, with four of his men, had, on leaping from
the cart, made straight across the drawbridge over the moat, for the
gateway, to which they attached the petards which they had brought with
them. Then they ran back to the main body, who stood awaiting the
explosion. In a few seconds it came, and then with a cheer the troops
dashed across the drawbridge, and in through the splintered gate. There
was scarcely any resistance. Taken utterly by surprise, and being
numerically inferior to their assailants--for nearly all the fighting
men had gone out with their lord--the frightened retainers tried to
hide themselves rather than to resist, and were speedily disarmed and
gathered in the courtyard.
Major Warrener, informed by the bullock drivers of the quarter in which
the Europeans were confined, followed by a dozen men, made his way
straight to it, and had the delight of being greeted by the voices of
his countrymen and women. These were, as reported, three officers and
five ladies, all of whom were absolutely bewildered by the surprise and
suddenness of their rescue.
There was no time for explanation. The stables were ransacked and eight
of the rajah's best horses taken. Then, when all was ready for
starting, Major Warrener proceeded to the door of the women's
apartments. Here, in obedience to the order he had sent her, the wife
of the talookdar, veiled from head to foot, and surrounded by her
attendants, stood to await the orders of her captor.
"Madam," said Captain Wilkins, who spoke the dialect in use in Oude,
"Major Warrener, the British officer in command, bids me tell you that
this castle, with you and all that it contains, are in his power, and
that he might give it to the flames and carry you off as hostage. But
he will not do this. The Rajah of Bithri is a brave man, but he is
wrong to fight against fate. The English Raj will prevail again, and
all who have rebelled will be punished. We treat him as a brave but
mistaken enemy; and as we have spared his castle and his family, so we
hope that he in turn will behave kindly to any Englishman or woman who
may fall into his hands or may ask his aid. Lastly, let no one leave
this castle till daybreak, for whoever does so we will slay without
mercy."
Then, turning round again, Warrener and his companions returned to the
courtyard. The moment the castle was entered and opposition quelled,
half the troops had run back for the horses, and in twenty minutes from
the arrival of the bullock-carts at the gateway of Bithri the last of
its captors filed out from its walls and trotted off into the darkness.
Day broke before any of the inhabitants of Bithri dared issue from its
walls. Then a horseman took the news on to the camp. The artillery,
increased now to thirty-six guns, had already opened upon the village
ere he reached the great tent on the plain. The rajah could not credit
the intelligence that the enemy had escaped, that his castle had been
attacked and carried, and the white prisoners released; but his
surprise and fury were overpowered by the delight he felt at the news
that his women and children were safe and his ancestral dwelling
uninjured. "The English are a great people," he said, stroking his
beard; then, issuing from his tent, he told the news. Like wildfire it
ran through the camp, and as none of the thousands gathered there had
his feelings of gratitude and relief to soften their anger and
disappointment, the fury of the multitude was unbounded.
With a wild rush they made for the gate-almost blocked with their
dead-scoured the little village, and soon discovered the hole through
which the besieged had escaped. Then with wild yells three thousand
horsemen set off in pursuit; but it was six o'clock now, and the
fugitives had got seven hours' start. The Rajah of Bithri's contingent
took no part in the pursuit. On issuing from his tent he had, after
telling the news, briefly given orders for his tents to be struck and
for all his troops to return at once to the castle, toward which he
himself, accompanied by his bodyguard, set out on his elephant of state.
Major Warrener and his troops had no fear of pursuit. New foes might be
met; but with horses fresh and in good condition, and six hours'
start--for they were confident that no pursuit could commence before
daybreak at the earliest--they felt safe, from the enemy who had just
attacked them, especially as these could not know the direction which
they were pursuing, and would believe that their aim would be to return
with their rescued friends to Delhi, instead of proceeding through the
heart of Oude. The party whom they had found at Bithri consisted of Mr.
Hartford, a deputy commissioner, with his wife and two daughters; of a
Mrs. Pearson and her sister, the former the wife of a district
magistrate, who had been absent on duty when the rising at the little
station at which they lived took place; and of Captain Harper and
Lieutenant Jones, who were the officers of the detachment there. The
men, native cavalry, had ridden off without injuring their officers,
but the fanatical people of the place had killed many of the residents
and fired their bungalows. Some had escaped on horseback or in
carriages; and the present party, keeping together, had, when near
Bithri, been seized and brought in to the chief, who intended to take
them with him to Lucknow, when--an event of which he daily expected
news--the little body of English there were destroyed by the forces
gathering round them. The captives had heard what was doing, both at
Lucknow and Cawnpore. At the latter place not only had the native
troops mutinied, but the Rajah of Bithoor, Nana Sahib, whom the English
had regarded as a firm friend, had joined them. Sir Hugh Wheeler, with
the officers of the revolted regiments the civilians of the station,
and forty or fifty white troops, having some eight hundred women and
children in their charge, were defending a weak position against
thousands of the enemy, provided with artillery.
When after riding thirty miles, the party stopped at daybreak at a
ruined temple standing in its grove at a distance from the main road,
Major Warrener called his officers into council, to determine what was
the best course to adopt under the circumstances. Should they dash
through the lines of the besiegers of Cawnpore, or should they make for
Agra, or endeavor to join the force which was being collected at
Allahabad to march to their relief?
Finally, and very reluctantly, the latter course was decided upon. It
was agreed--and the truth of their conclusion was proved by the fact
that throughout the mutiny there was no single instance of the rebels,
however numerous, carrying a position held by any body of
Englishmen--that Sir Hugh Wheeler and his force could probably hold the
intrenchments against any assault that the enemy could make, and that
if forced to surrender it would probably be from want of supplies. In
that case the arrival of a hundred men would be a source of weakness
rather than of strength. The reinforcement would not be of sufficient
strength to enable the garrison, incumbered as it was with women and
children, to cut its way out, while there would be a hundred more
mouths to fill. It was therefore resolved to change their course, to
avoid Cawnpore, and to make direct for Allahabad, with the news of the
urgent strait in which Sir Hugh Wheeler was placed, and of the
necessity for an instant advance to his relief.
Cawnpore was now but forty miles away, and Lucknow was about the same
distance, but in a different direction; and as they stretched
themselves on the ground and prepared for sleep, they could distinctly
hear the dull, faint sounds that told of a heavy artillery fire. At
which of the stations, or if at both, the firing was going on, they
could not tell; but in fact it was at Cawnpore, as this was the 25th of
June, and the siege of the Lucknow Residency did not begin in earnest
until the 30th of that month.
The course had now to be decided upon, and maps were consulted, and it
was determined to cross the river at Sirapore. It was agreed, too, that
they should, at the first village they passed through that evening,
question the inhabitants as to the bodies of rebels moving about, and
find out whether any large number were stationed at any of the bridges.
At nine o'clock in the evening they were again in the saddle, and an
hour later halted at a village. There several of the men were examined
separately, and their stories agreed that there were no large bodies of
Sepoys on the line by which they proposed to travel, but that most of
the talookdars were preparing to march to Lucknow and Cawnpore, when
the British were destroyed. Having thus learned that the bridge by
which they intended to cross was open to them, the troop again
proceeded on their way, leaving the village lost in astonishment as to
where this body of British horse could have come from.
Upon this night's ride Ned and Dick Warrener were on rearguard--that is
to say, they rode together some two hundred yards behind the rest of
the squadron.
An hour after leaving the village, as they were passing through a thick
grove of trees some figures rose as from the ground. Ned was knocked
off his horse by a blow with the butt-end of a gun; and Dick, before he
had time to shout or make a movement in his defense, was dragged from
his horse, his head wrapped in a thick cloth, and his arms bound. Then
he could feel himself lifted up and rapidly carried off. After a time
he was put on his legs and the covering of his head removed. He found
Ned beside him; and a word of congratulation that both were alive was
exchanged. Then a rope was placed round each of their necks, and
surrounded by their captors, two of whom rode their horses, they were
started at a run, with admonitions from those around them that any
attempt to escape or to shout would be punished with instant death.
For full two hours they were hurried along, and then the party halted
at the edge of a thick jungle, lighted a fire, and began to cook. The
prisoners were allowed to sit down with their captors. These were
matchlock-men, on their way to join the forces besieging the Residency
at Cawnpore, toward which town they had been making their way, as the
boom of the guns sounded sharper and clearer every mile that they
traveled. Ned gathered from the talk that their capture was the effect
of pure accident. The party had sat down in the wood to eat, when they
heard a troop of horsemen passing. A word or two spoken in English as
the leaders came along sufficed to show the nationality of the troop,
and the band lay quiet in the bushes until, as they supposed, all had
passed. They had risen to leave when the two last horsemen came in
view, and these they determined to capture and carry off, if possible,
hoping to get a considerable reward from Nan a Sahib on their arrival
at Cawnpore.
Nana Sahib's name had not as yet that terrible history attached to it
which rendered it execrated wherever the English tongue is spoken; but
the boys had heard that after pretending to be the friend of the
whites, he was now leading the assault against them, and that he was
therefore a traitor, and fighting as it were with a rope round his
neck. At the hands of such a man they had no mercy to expect.
"It is of no use trying to make a bolt, Ned?"
"Not the least in the world. The two fellows next to us are appointed
to watch us. Don't you see they are sitting with their guns across
their knees? We should be shot down in a moment."
There was a debate among the band whether to push on to Cawnpore at
once; but they had already made a long day's journey, and moreover
thought that they could create a greater effect by arriving with their
prisoners by daylight. The fire was made up, and the men wrapped
themselves in their cloths--the native of India almost invariably
sleeps with his head covered, and looking more like a corpse than a
living being. Anxiously the boys watched in hopes that their guards
would follow the example. They showed, however, no signs of doing so,
but sat talking over the approaching destruction of the English rule
and of the restoration of the Mohammedan power.
Two hours passed; the fire burned low, and the boys, in spite of the
danger of their position, were just dropping off to sleep, when there
was a mighty roar--a rush of some great body passing over them--a
scream of one of the natives--a yell of terror from the rest. A tiger
stood with one of the guards in his mouth, growling fiercely, and
giving him an occasional shake, as a cat would shake a mouse, while one
of his paws held down the prostrate figure of the other.
There was a wild stampede--men tumbled over and over each other in
their efforts to escape from the terrible presence, and then, getting
to their feet, started off at full speed. For a moment the boys had
lain paralyzed with the sudden advent of the terrible man-eater, and
then had, like the rest, darted away.
"To the jungle!" Ned exclaimed; and in an instant they had plunged into
the undergrowth, and were forcing their way at full speed through it.
Man-eating tigers are rarely found in pairs, and there was little fear
that another was lurking in the wood; and even had such been the case,
they would have preferred death in that form to being murdered in cold
blood by the enemy. Presently they struck on a track leading through
the wood, and followed it, until in five minutes they emerged at the
other side. As they did so they heard the report of firearms in the
direction of their last halting-place, and guessed that the peasants
were firing at hazard, in hopes of frightening the tiger into dropping
his prey. As to their own flight, it was probable that so far they had
been unthought of. The first object of the fugitives was to get as far
as possible from their late captors, who would at daybreak be sure to
organize a regular hunt for them, and accordingly they ran straight
ahead until in three-quarters of an hour they came into a wide road.
Then, exhausted with their exertions, they threw themselves down, and
panted for breath.
Dick was the first to speak. "What on earth are we to do now, Ned?
These uniforms will betray us to the first person we meet, and we have
no means of disguise."
"We must get as far away as we can before daylight, Dick, and then hide
up. Sooner or later we must throw ourselves on the hospitality of some
one, and take our chance. This is evidently the main road to Cawnpore,
and, judging from the guns, we cannot be more than ten or twelve miles
away. It will not do to go back along this road, for the fellows we
have got away from may strike it below us and follow it up. Let us go
forward along it till we meet a side road, and take that."
Ten minutes' walking brought them to a point where a side road came in,
and, taking this, they walked steadily on. They passed two or three
villages, which the moonlight enabled them to see before they reached
them; these they avoided by a detour, as the dogs would be sure to
arouse the inhabitants, and it was only in a solitary abode that they
had a chance of being sheltered. Toward morning they saw ahead a
building of considerable size, evidently the abode of a person of
consequence. It was not fortified; but behind it was a large inclosure,
with high walls.
"I vote we climb over that wall, Ned; there are several trees growing
close up to it. If they hunt the country round for us they will never
look inside there; and I expect that there is a garden, and we are sure
to find a hiding-place. Then, if the owner comes out, we can, if he
looks a decent chap, throw ourselves on his hands."
"I think that a good idea, Dick; the sooner we carry it out the better,
for in another half-hour day will be breaking."
[Illustration: A TIGER STOOD, WITH ONE OF THE GUARDS IN HIS MOUTH,
GROWLING FIERCELY.]
They made a detour round to the back of the building, and after some
search found a tree growing close enough to the wall to assist them.
This they climbed, got along a branch which extended over the top of
the wall, and thence dropped into the garden. Here there were pavilions
and fountains, and well-kept walks, with great clumps of bushes and
flowering shrubs well calculated for concealment. Into one of these
they crept, and were soon fast asleep.
It was late in the afternoon when they awoke, roused by the sound of
laughter, and of the chatter of many voices.
"Good gracious!" Ned exclaimed; "we have got into the women's garden."
In another minute a group of women came in sight. The principal figure
was a young woman of some twenty-two or twenty-three, and with a red
wafer-like patch on her forehead, very richly dressed.
"She is a Hindoo," Ned whispered; "what luck!"
There are indeed very few Hindoos in Oude, and the Mohammedan being the
dominant race, a Hindoo would naturally feel far more favorably
inclined toward a British fugitive than a Mohammedan would be likely to
do, as the triumph of the rebellion could to them simply mean a
restoration, of Mohammedan supremacy in place of the far more tolerant
British rule.
Next to the ranee walked an old woman, who had probably been her nurse,
and was now her confidante and adviser. The rest were young women,
clearly dependants.
"And so, Ahrab, we must give up our garden, and go into Cawnpore; and
in such weather too!"
"It must be so indeed," the elder woman said. "These Mohammedans doubt
us, and so insist on your highness showing your devotion to the cause
by taking up your residence in Cawnpore, and sending in all your
retainers to join in the attack on the English."
The ranee looked sad.
"They say there are hundreds of women and little children there," she
said, "and that the English who are defending them are few."
"It is so," Ahrab said. "But they are brave. The men of the Nana, and
the old regiments, are fifty to one against them, and the cannon fire
night and day, and yet they do not give way a foot."
"They are men, the English sahibs."
While they were speaking the two chief personages of the party had
taken their seats in a pavilion close to the spot where the young
Warreners were hidden.
Ned translated the purport of the talk to Dick, and both agreed that
the way of safety had opened to them.
Seeing that their mistress was not in the humor for laughter and mirth,
and would rather talk quietly with her chief friend and adviser, the
attendants gradually left them, and gathered in a distant part of the
garden.
Then Ned and Dick crept out of their hiding-place, and appeared
suddenly at the entrance to the pavilion, where they fell on one knee,
in an attitude of supplication, and Ned said:
"Oh, gracious lady, have pity upon two fugitives!"
The ranee and her counselor rose to their feet with a little scream,
and hastily covered their heads.
"Have pity, lady," Ned went on earnestly; "we are alone and friendless;
oh, do not give us up to our enemies."
"How did you get here?" asked the elder woman.
"We climbed the wall," Ned said. "We knew not that this garden was the
ladies' garden, or we might not have invaded it; now we bless
Providence that has brought us to the feet of so kind and lovely a
lady."
The ranee laughed lightly behind her veil.
"They are mere boys, Ahrab."
"Yes, your highness, but it would be just as dangerous for you to
shelter boys as men. And what will you do, as you have to go to
Cawnpore to-morrow?"
"Oh, you can manage somehow, Ahrab--you are so clever," the ranee said
coaxingly; "and I could not give them up to be killed: I should never
feel happy afterward."
"May Heaven bless you, lady!" Ned said earnestly; "and your kind action
may not go unrewarded even here. Soon, very soon, an English army will
be at Cawnpore to punish the rebels, and then it will be well with
those who have succored British fugitives."
"Do you say an English army will come soon?" Ahrab said doubtfully.
"Men say the English Raj is gone forever."
"It is not true," Ned said. "England has not begun to put out her
strength yet. She can send tens of thousands of soldiers, and the great
chiefs of the Punjab have all declared for her. Already Delhi is
besieged, and an army is gathering at Allahabad to march hither. It may
be quickly; it may be slowly; but in the end the English rule will be
restored, her enemies will be destroyed, and her friends rewarded. But
I know," he went on, turning to the ranee, "that it needs not a thought
of this to influence you, and that in your kind heart compassion alone
will suffice to secure us your protection."
The ranee laughed again.
"You are only a boy," she said, "but you have learned to flatter. Now
tell us how you got here."
"Your highness," Ahrab interrupted, "I had better send all the others
in, for they might surprise us. Let these young sahibs hide themselves
again; then we will go in, and I will call in your attendants. Later,
when it is dusk, you will plead heat, and come out here with me again,
and then I can bring some robes to disguise the sahibs; that is, if
your highness has resolved to aid them."
"I think I have resolved that, Ahrab," the ranee said. "You have heard,
young sahibs; retire now, and hide. When the sun has set we will be
here again."
With deep assurance of gratitude from Ned, the lads again took refuge
in the shrubs, delighted with the result of their interview.
"I do hope that the old one will bring us something to eat, Ned. I am
as hungry as a hunter! That ranee's a brick, isn't she?"
Two hours later a step was heard coming down the garden, and a woman
came and lit some lamps in the pavilion, and again retired. Then in
another ten minutes the ranee and her confidante made their appearance.
The former took her seat on the couch in the pavilion, the latter
remained outside the circle of light, and clapped her hands softly. In
a minute the boys stood before her. She held out a basket of
provisions, and a bundle of clothes.
"Put these wraps on over your uniforms," she said; "then if we should
be surprised, no one will be any the wiser."
The boys retired, hastily ate some food, then wrapped themselves in the
long folds of cotton which form the principal garment of native women
of the lower class, and went forward to the pavilion.
The ranee laughed outright.
"How clumsy you are!" she said. "Ahrab, do arrange them a little more
like women."
Ahrab adjusted their robes, and brought one end over their heads, so
that it could, if necessary, be pulled over the face at a moment's
notice.
The ranee then motioned to them to sit down upon two cushions near her;
and saying to Ahrab, "It is very hot, and they are only boys," removed
the veil from her face. "You make very pretty girls, only you are too
white," she said.
"Lady, if we had some dye we could pass as natives, I think," Ned said;
"we have done so before this, since the troubles began."
"Tell me all about it," the ranee said. "I want to know who you are,
and how you came here as if you had dropped from the skies."
Ned related their adventures since leaving Delhi, and then the ranee
insisted upon an account of their previous masquerading as natives.
"How brave you English boys are," she said. "No wonder your men have
conquered India. Now, Ahrab, tell these young sahibs what we propose."
"We dare not leave you here," Ahrab said. "You would have to be fed,
and we must trust many people. We go to Cawnpore to-morrow, and you
must go with us. My son has a garden here; we can trust him, and he
will bring a bullock-cart with him to-morrow morning. In this will be
placed some boxes, and he will start. You must wait a little way off,
and when you see him you will know him, because he will tie a piece of
red cloth to the horns of the bullock; you will come up and get in. He
will ask no questions, but will drive you to the ranee's. I will open
the door to you and take you up to a little room where you will not be
disturbed. We shall all start first. You cannot go with us, because the
other women will wonder who you are. Here is some stuff to dye your
faces and hands. I will let you out by a private door. You will see a
wood five minutes along the road. You must stop there to-night, and do
not come out till you see the ranee and her party pass. There is a
little hut, which is empty, in the wood, where you can sleep without
fear of disturbance. The ranee is sorry to turn you out to-night, but
we start at daybreak, and I should have no opportunity of slipping away
and letting you out."
Everything being now arranged, the ranee rose. Ned reiterating the
expression of the gratitude of his brother and himself, the ranee
coquettishly held out a little hand whose size and shape an
Englishwoman might have envied; and the boys kissed it--Ned
respectfully, Dick with a heartiness which made her laugh and draw it
away.
"You are a darling," Dick said in English, with the native impudence of
a midshipman, "and I wish I knew enough of your lingo to tell you."
"What does he say?" she asked of Ned.
"He is a sailor," Ned said; "and sailors say things we on shore would
not venture to say. My brother says you are the flower of his heart."
"Your brother is an impudent boy," the ranee said, laughing, "and I
have a good mind to hand him over to the Nana. Now good-by! Ahrab will
let you out."