CONCLUSION.
On a warm, sultry evening in the latter part of May the Arabs and
Somalis who hovered about the outskirts of Zaila, keeping well out of
reach of the newly-erected fortifications which bristled with guns and
British soldiery, heard the sweet strains of "Rule Britannia" and "God
Save the Queen" floating over the desert.
It was the regimental band of the Ninth Lancers playing in the square of
the town on the occasion of the installation of the new governor of
Zaila--Colonel Conyers Gordon.
It was Colonel Gordon who had conducted the assault on the town some
weeks previous, and in recognition of his valor--for the enemy had made
a desperate stand--he was now the newly commissioned governor.
The official documents had arrived that day, and the town was _en fete_,
if we may use the expression; for, in addition to the native population
and the soldiery, a number of visitors had come across from Aden to do
honor to the brave commandant.
As the band ceased playing, Colonel Gordon appeared on the steps of the
residency and briefly addressed the expectant people in a few
well-chosen words.
"The tragedy of a few months ago," he concluded, "is still fresh in our
minds. I had the honor to know Sir Arthur Ashby, an honor which many of
you likewise enjoyed, and the sad fate of that brave man and his
companions comes vividly to our minds tonight. I trust that I shall be
enabled to discharge the duties of my office with the same unswerving
fidelity."
Colonel Gordon sat down, and the band played "Rule Britannia."
At that moment the Rhine Castle was dropping anchor in the harbor.
As the band ceased Colonel Gordon rose again, and the people instantly
became quiet. By his side was a short, thickset man with dark, sallow
features.
"I beg to call your attention," began the colonel, "to one who has
played an important part in our recent struggle--Mr. Manuel Torres, a
Portuguese, of whom I can say nothing better than that he deserves to be
an Englishman. At the risk of his own life he tried to save Sir Arthur
Ashby, and after suffering much at the hands of the enemy, he finally
escaped in time to do us valuable service in retaking the town. As a
recognition of his aid, I propose to appoint him Assistant Political
Resident."
Mr. Torres bowed profoundly, and as the people evinced a decided desire
to hear from him, he cleared his throat and began to speak in sleek,
oily tones.
He related, with many gestures, a thrilling tale of his captivity among
the Arabs, the desperate attempts he had made to save Sir Arthur and the
Englishmen from slavery, and how finally he had effected his own
marvelous escape.
At this point a sudden commotion on the outskirts of the crowd
temporarily interrupted the speaker.
"It grieves me deeply," he went on, "to reflect on the sad destiny of my
dear friend, Sir Arthur Ashby, and of those brave men, for whom I had
the highest honor and regard. I risked my life to save them. I
interceded with the Arab leader, Makar Makalo, but in vain. He was
obdurate. To bring them back from slavery I would willingly lay down my
life this minute. I would gladly----"
What else Mr. Manuel Torres was willing to do no one ever knew or will
know. He ceased speaking abruptly, and his sallow face assumed a ghastly
look.
Through the opening ranks of the people advanced a group of pale and
haggard men, led by a ghastly figure with sandy side whiskers in a faded
uniform that hung about his shrunken limbs.
"Bless my soul!" exclaimed this odd-looking stranger. "It's that
rascally Portuguese, Manuel Torres!"
A great silence fell on the people. For one second the Portuguese
trembled like a leaf, then he turned and bolted through the residency
door, shoving Colonel Gordon roughly aside in his mad haste.
"Stop him! Stop him!" roared the stranger. "A thousand pounds to the man
who takes him alive. He's the ringleader of the insurrection!"
Colonel Gordon hurried down the steps in bewildered amazement.
"What does this mean?" he demanded. "Who are you?"
"Who am I?" shouted he of the sandy whiskers. "Why, blast your
impudence, I'm Sir Arthur Ashby, the governor of Zaila. Who the deuce
are you?"
The scene that followed baffles all description. The air rang with
frenzied shouts and cheers, soldiers, natives, and visitors surged madly
round the little band, and the musicians, quick to grasp the situation,
struck up the inspiring strains of "Lo, the Conquering Hero Comes!"
Sir Arthur shook himself loose from the embrace of his enthusiastic
friends.
"The Portuguese!" he roared. "The rascal will escape. Pursue him!
Capture him!"
Now the people comprehended for the first time. A furious rush was made
for the residency, the door was jammed in an instant with a struggling
crowd of troops and civilians, and then they swept on through the broad
hallway in pursuit of the wretched fugitive.
In five minutes the town was in an indescribable uproar. The vessels in
the harbor fired showers of rockets, and the alarm guns boomed hoarsely
from the fortifications.
Manuel Torres, however, overthrown at the very moment of his greatest
triumph, made good his escape. He bolted through the back door of the
residency, evaded the sentries at the town wall, and fled to the desert.
That same night, after a sumptuous repast, Guy Chutney, at Sir Arthur's
request, modestly related the story of their adventures to the most
interested audience that ever graced the walls of the residency. A
breathless silence greeted the speaker as he showed the damnable proofs
of Manuel Torres' guilt and treachery, and described with thrilling
effect the awful journey through the bowels of the earth. When he
concluded the tale that made him a hero in spite of himself, a burst of
applause fairly made the residency tremble.
Then Sir Arthur rose to his feet.
"Gentlemen," he said, in a voice which quivered with emotion, "I deem
this to be a fitting time to express my--to express _our_--admiration of
my young countryman. All my comrades, I am glad to say, displayed a
heroism, during our days of trial and suffering, which has never been
surpassed by any men in any clime. But, if one man is worthy of special
mention for cool bravery, for dogged perseverance, for unflinching,
unwavering fortitude and unselfishness, that man is Guy Chutney.
Gentlemen," he continued, raising his glass, "I ask you to drink with me
to the health of the bravest man I ever met--Guy Chutney."
Again a frantic outburst of applause shook the building, and the toast
was drunk with indescribable enthusiasm. But Guy strove to make himself
heard above the uproar.
"It is unfair," he said earnestly, when quiet had been partially
restored, "of Sir Arthur to credit me with what I am aware is far more
than my just due. Truthfully, it should be said that no one of us
surpassed his fellows in displaying the qualities Sir Arthur has just
enumerated. Such an experience is enough for a lifetime, but if I am
ever again called upon to face such perils as we encountered while under
Africa, may God grant that I have for comrades such true-hearted, loyal
friends as these."
Carrington, Forbes, and Canaris each spoke briefly in turn; and Bildad,
under the undue excitement of some wine he had managed to secure,
attempted to perform a Galla war-dance on the table, and was promptly
relegated to the guard-house to sober up.
At midnight a steamer left Zaila for Aden with the glad news, and
twenty-four hours later the streets of London were blocked with crowds
of people reading the amazing telegram that the newspapers had posted on
their bulletin boards.
Colonel Conyers Gordon, of course, was not governor of Zaila at all, and
though it must have been a sore disappointment to the brave old soldier,
he readily and gladly installed Sir Arthur in the residency and assumed
his former command of the troops.
Sir Arthur, however, had very different views. "Do you mean to say,
Gordon," he demanded, "that the government actually gave me up for lost,
and had no intention of sending an expedition after me at all?"
Colonel Gordon hesitatingly admitted that such was the case.
"Then," cried Sir Arthur, "I wash my hands of such a government. I will
go home to England, and may the infernal Arabs hang, draw, and quarter
me if I ever set foot on African soil again."
"I trust, Sir Arthur," argued Colonel Gordon, "you will not act hastily
in this matter. You will admit that the government was somewhat
justified in believing your case a hopeless one. The fate of you and
your brave companions was thought by everybody to have been nothing
short of death. I am sure, had the authorities had the slightest idea
that you were living, an expedition would have been sent out. No stone
would have been left unturned to rescue you."
"Well," said Sir Arthur, somewhat mollified, "I cannot deny that things
pointed to our demise. We expected to see you again as little as you
expected to see us, probably."
"I am glad," said Colonel Gordon, "that you have decided to take a more
reasonable view of the matter. Will you not reconsider your
determination of resigning your post? Let no consideration for me stop
you, I beg of you. I should, of course, be glad to accept the position,
but yours is undoubtedly the prior right, and your previous experience
has amply proven your ability."
"Colonel," Sir Arthur replied solemnly, "I'm going back to England. I'm
sick of Africa. I've had a little more than a genteel sufficiency during
the past few months, and I'm pining for a sight of dear old England. I'm
going home."
Sir Arthur kept his word. On the same day he mailed his resignation, and
handed the reins of office to Colonel Gordon.
After careful consideration, Colonel Carrington decided to accept the
post of Assistant Political Resident that Gordon offered him, subject,
of course, to the wishes of the Foreign Office.
Chutney had at first intended going on to India, but letters from home
informing him of the serious illness of his brother decided his return
to England, and he sailed from Aden a week later, in company with Sir
Arthur and Melton Forbes, who had been recalled by his paper as soon as
they learned of his wonderful journey.
Canaris accompanied them as far as Port Said, where he changed to a
vessel bound for Rhodes. He was eager to see Greece after his long
captivity among the Somalis, and at last accounts he was the proprietor
of a celebrated cafe at Athens, having inherited a tidy sum of money
from a deceased relative.
Bildad expressed a desire to go back to the Galla country, and Colonel
Gordon finally succeeded in obtaining safe passage for him with a
caravan bound for the interior.
Manuel Torres met the fate his treachery duly merited. Two days after
his escape from Zaila he fell into the hands of a party of prowling
Arabs, and was conveyed by them to Makar Makalo, who determined that he
should receive fitting punishment for his renegade conduct. Accordingly
he sent him under strong escort to Harar, and Rao Khan very obligingly
carried out his friend Makar's wishes by cooking the wretched Portuguese
in a caldron of boiling oil.
A remarkable thing occurred in the fourth month of Governor Gordon's
rulership at Zaila.
A bronzed Englishman arrived one day with a caravan from the interior.
He was speedily recognized as Captain Waller, and he told a strange
story of his adventures.
Mombagolo, the Burman, who, in company with the captain and the Hindoos,
had been taken into slavery by a tribe of Gallas who dwelt far to the
west, had been chosen chief of this tribe on the death of its king,
probably on account of his stature and strength.
His first royal act was to effect the deliverance of Captain Waller by
sending him to the coast. The Hindoos had chosen to remain where they
were. Captain Waller eventually returned to England, and Forbes was
deeply grieved to learn that he would never see Momba again, though it
was some consolation to know that, instead of a slave, he was an African
monarch.
Guy reached England barely in time to see his brother before he died. As
Sir Lucius Chutney was unmarried, Guy succeeded to the titles and
estates.
As a landed proprietor, his duties very plainly lay at home, so he
resigned his commission and settled down on the Hampshire estate.
He spends much of his time in London. He and Sir Arthur Ashby are
members of the same club, and the two baronets invariably dine
together.
"Chutney," Sir Arthur said one day, as he lit his cigar after dinner,
"have you ever felt any desire to leave England and resume an
adventurous life?"
Chutney puffed a moment in silence.
"Sometimes," he said finally. "Sometimes I feel as though I should enjoy
laying aside home comforts, and, gun in hand, enter the trackless
forests once more. Somehow civilization palls on a man after years of
campaigning. Don't you find it so, Ashby?"
"That," replied Sir Arthur, "is just what I was getting at. Generally I
feel a placid contentment with things in general, but once in a while a
sort of fever stirs my blood, and I long to get out and rough it
somewhere. I tell you, a wild life has a certain charm about it that
dies out reluctantly when the fever once gets into a man's blood. Some
day I really believe I'll return to Africa, or some other wild land, for
big game. I should enjoy it."
Chutney grasped his hand.
"When you do, old fellow, I'm with you," he said. But so far they have
not decided on any definite arrangements. They talk it over frequently,
but continue to dine at the club.
Sometimes Forbes drops in, and then from soup to the wine the
conversation is sure to cling with unwavering fidelity to that topic of
deepest interest--the strange and thrilling things that befell them when
they were under Africa.
THE END.
* * * * *
A PIPE OF MYSTERY.
A jovial party were gathered round a blazing fire in an old grange near
Warwick. The hour was getting late; the very little ones had, after
dancing round the Christmas-tree, enjoying the snap-dragon, and playing
a variety of games, gone off to bed; and the elder boys and girls now
gathered round their uncle, Colonel Harley, and asked him for a
story--above all, a ghost story.
"But I have never seen any ghosts," the colonel said, laughing; "and,
moreover, I don't believe in them one bit. I have traveled pretty well
all over the world, I have slept in houses said to be haunted, but
nothing have I seen--no noises that could not be accounted for by rats
or the wind have I ever heard. I have never"--and here he paused--"never
but once met with any circumstances or occurrence that could not be
accounted for by the light of reason, and I know you prefer hearing
stories of my own adventures to mere invention."
"Yes, uncle. But what was the 'once' when circumstances happened that
you could not explain?"
"It's rather a long story," the colonel said, "and it's getting late."
"Oh! no, no, uncle; it does not matter a bit how late we sit up on
Christmas Eve, and the longer the story is, the better; and if you don't
believe in ghosts how can it be a story of something you could not
account for by the light of nature?"
"You will see when I have done," the colonel said. "It is rather a story
of what the Scotch call second sight, than one of ghosts. As to
accounting for it, you shall form your own opinion when you have heard
me to the end.
"I landed in India in '50, and after going through the regular drill
work marched with a detachment up country to join my regiment, which was
stationed at Jubbalpore, in the very heart of India. It has become an
important place since; the railroad across India passes through it and
no end of changes have taken place; but at that time it was one of the
most out-of-the-way stations in India, and, I may say, one of the most
pleasant. It lay high, there was capital boating on the Nerbudda, and,
above all, it was a grand place for sport, for it lay at the foot of the
hill country, an immense district, then but little known, covered with
forests and jungle, and abounding with big game of all kinds.
"My great friend there was a man named Simmonds. He was just of my own
standing; we had come out in the same ship, had marched up the country
together, and were almost like brothers. He was an old Etonian, I an old
Westminster, and we were both fond of boating, and, indeed, of sport of
all kinds. But I am not going to tell you of that now. The people in
these hills are called Gonds, a true hill tribe--that is to say,
aborigines, somewhat of the negro type. The chiefs are of mixed blood,
but the people are almost black. They are supposed to accept the
religion of the Hindus, but are in reality deplorably ignorant and
superstitious. Their priests are a sort of compound of a Brahmin priest
and a negro fetish man, and among their principal duties is that of
charming away tigers from the villages by means of incantations. There,
as in other parts of India, were a few wandering fakirs, who enjoyed an
immense reputation for holiness and wisdom. The people would go to them
from great distances for charms or predictions, and believed in their
power with implicit faith.
"At the time when we were at Jubbalpore there was one of these fellows
whose reputation altogether eclipsed that of his rivals, and nothing
could be done until his permission had been asked and his blessing
obtained. All sorts of marvelous stories were constantly coming to our
ears of the unerring foresight with which he predicted the termination
of diseases, both in men and animals; and so generally was he believed
in that the colonel ordered that no one connected with the regiment
should consult him, for these predictions very frequently brought about
their own fulfillment; for those who were told that an illness would
terminate fatally, lost all hope, and literally lay down to die.
"However, many of the stories that we heard could not be explained on
these grounds, and the fakir and his doings were often talked over at
mess, some of the officers scoffing at the whole business, others
maintaining that some of these fakirs had, in some way or another, the
power of foretelling the future, citing many well-authenticated
anecdotes upon the subject.
"The older officers were the believers, we young fellows were the
scoffers. But for the well-known fact that it is very seldom indeed that
these fakirs will utter any of their predictions to Europeans, some of
us would have gone to him to test his powers. As it was, none of us had
ever seen him.
"He lived in an old ruined temple, in the middle of a large patch of
jungle at the foot of the hills, some ten or twelve miles away.
"I had been at Jubbalpore about a year, when I was woke up one night by
a native, who came in to say that at about eight o'clock a tiger had
killed a man in his village, and had dragged off the body.
"Simmonds and I were constantly out after tigers, and the people in all
the villages within twenty miles knew that we were always ready to pay
for early information. This tiger had been doing great damage, and had
carried off about thirty men, women, and children. So great was the fear
of him, indeed, that the people in the neighborhood he frequented
scarcely dared stir out of doors, except in parties of five or six. We
had had several hunts after him, but, like all man-eaters, he was old
and awfully crafty; and although we got several snap shots at him, he
had always managed to save his skin.
"In a quarter of an hour after the receipt of the message Charley
Simmonds and I were on the back of an elephant which was our joint
property; our shikaree, a capital fellow, was on foot beside us, and
with the native trotting on ahead as guide we went off at the best pace
of old Begaum, for that was the elephant's name. The village was fifteen
miles away, but we got there soon after daybreak, and were received with
delight by the population. In half an hour the hunt was organized; all
the male population turned out as beaters, with sticks, guns, tom-toms,
and other instruments for making a noise.
"The trail was not difficult to find. A broad path, with occasional
smears of blood, showed where he had dragged his victim through the long
grass to a cluster of trees a couple of hundred yards from the village.
"We scarcely expected to find him there, but the villagers held back,
while we went forward with cocked rifles. We found, however, nothing but
a few bones and a quantity of blood. The tiger had made off at the
approach of daylight into the jungle, which was about two miles distant.
We traced him easily enough, and found that he had entered a large
ravine, from which several smaller ones branched off.
"It was an awkward place, as it was next to impossible to surround it
with the number of people at our command. We posted them at last all
along the upper ground, and told them to make up in noise what they
wanted in numbers. At last all was ready, and we gave the signal.
However, I am not telling you a hunting story, and need only say that we
could neither find nor disturb him. In vain we pushed Begaum through the
thickest of the jungle which clothed the sides and bottom of the ravine,
while the men shouted, beat their tom-toms, and showered imprecations
against the tiger himself and his ancestors up to the remotest
generations.
"The day was tremendously hot, and, after three hours' march, we gave it
up for a time, and lay down in the shade, while the shikarees made a
long examination of the ground all round the hillside, to be sure that
he had not left the ravine. They came back with the news that no traces
could be discovered, and that, beyond a doubt, he was still there. A
tiger will crouch up in an exceedingly small clump of grass or bush, and
will sometimes almost allow himself to be trodden on before moving.
However, we determined to have one more search, and if that should
prove unsuccessful, to send off to Jubbalpore for some more of the men
to come out with elephants, while we kept up a circle of fires, and of
noises of all descriptions, so as to keep him a prisoner until the
arrival of the re-enforcements. Our next search was no more successful
than our first had been; and having, as we imagined, examined every
clump and crevice in which he could have been concealed, we had just
reached the upper end of the ravine, when we heard a tremendous roar,
followed by a perfect babel of yells and screams from the natives.
"The outburst came from the mouth of the ravine, and we felt at once
that he had escaped. We hurried back to find, as we had expected, that
the tiger was gone. He had burst out suddenly from his hiding-place, had
seized a native, torn him horribly, and had made across the open plain.
"This was terribly provoking, but we had nothing to do but follow him.
This was easy enough, and we traced him to a detached patch of wood and
jungle, two miles distant. This wood was four or five hundred yards
across, and the exclamations of the people at once told us that it was
the one in which stood the ruined temple of the fakir of whom I have
been telling you. I forgot to say that as the tiger broke out one of the
village shikarees had fired at and, he declared, wounded him.
"It was already getting late in the afternoon, and it was hopeless to
attempt to beat the jungle that night. We therefore sent off a runner
with a note to the colonel, asking him to send the work-elephants, and
to allow a party of volunteers to march over at night, to help surround
the jungle when we commenced beating it in the morning.
"We based our request upon the fact that the tiger was a notorious
man-eater, and had been doing immense damage. We then had a talk with
our shikaree, sent a man off to bring provisions for the people out with
us, and then set them to work cutting dry sticks and grass to make a
circle of fires.
"We both felt much uneasiness respecting the fakir, who might be seized
at any moment by the enraged tiger. The natives would not allow that
there was any cause for fear, as the tiger would not dare to touch so
holy a man. Our belief in the respect of the tiger for sanctity was by
no means strong, and we determined to go in and warn him of the presence
of the brute in the wood. It was a mission which we could not intrust to
anyone else, for no native would have entered the jungle for untold
gold; so we mounted the Begaum again, and started. The path leading
towards the temple was pretty wide, and as we went along almost
noiselessly, for the elephant was too well trained to tread upon fallen
sticks, it was just possible we might come upon the tiger suddenly, so
we kept our rifles in readiness in our hands.
"Presently we came in sight of the ruins. No one was at first visible;
but at that very moment the fakir came out from the temple. He did not
see or hear us, for we were rather behind him and still among the trees,
but at once proceeded in a high voice to break into a sing-song prayer.
He had not said two words before his voice was drowned in a terrific
roar, and in an instant the tiger had sprung upon him, struck him to the
ground, seized him as a cat would a mouse, and started off with him at a
trot. The brute evidently had not detected our presence, for he came
right towards us. We halted the Begaum, and, with our fingers on the
triggers, awaited the favorable moment. He was a hundred yards from us
when he struck down his victim; he was not more than fifty when he
caught sight of us. He stopped for an instant in surprise. Charley
muttered, 'Both barrels, Harley,' and as the beast turned to plunge into
the jungle, and so showed us his side, we sent four bullets crashing
into him, and he rolled over lifeless.
"We went up to the spot, made the Begaum give him a kick, to be sure
that he was dead, and then got down to examine the unfortunate fakir.
The tiger had seized him by the shoulder, which was terribly torn, and
the bone broken. He was still perfectly conscious.
"We at once fired three shots, our usual signal that the tiger was dead,
and in a few minutes were surrounded by the villagers, who hardly knew
whether to be delighted at the death of their enemy, or to grieve over
the injury to the fakir. We proposed taking the latter to our hospital
at Jubbalpore, but this he positively refused to listen to. However, we
finally persuaded him to allow his arm to be set and the wounds dressed
in the first place by our regimental surgeon, after which he could go to
one of the native villages and have his arm dressed in accordance with
his own notions. A litter was soon improvised, and away we went to
Jubbalpore, which we reached about eight in the evening.
"The fakir refused to enter the hospital, so we brought out a couple of
trestles, laid the litter upon them, and the surgeon set his arm and
dressed his wounds by torchlight, when he was lifted into a dhoolie, and
his bearers again prepared to start for the village.
"Hitherto he had only spoken a few words; but he now briefly expressed
his deep gratitude to Simmonds and myself. We told him that we would
ride over to see him shortly, and hoped to find him getting on rapidly.
Another minute and he was gone.
"It happened that we had three or four fellows away on leave or on staff
duty, and several others laid up with fever just about this time, so
that the duty fell very heavily upon the rest of us, and it was over a
month before we had time to ride over to see the fakir.
"We had heard he was going on well; but we were surprised, on reaching
the village, to find that he had already returned to his old abode in
the jungle. However, we had made up our minds to see him, especially as
we had agreed that we would endeavor to persuade him to do a prediction
for us; so we turned our horses' heads towards the jungle. We found the
fakir sitting on a rock in front of the temple, just where he had been
seized by the tiger. He rose as we rode up.
"'I knew that you would come to-day, sahibs, and was joyful in the
thought of seeing those who have preserved my life.'
"'We are glad to see you looking pretty strong again, though your arm is
still in a sling,' I said, for Simmonds was not strong in Hindustani.
"'How did you know that we were coming?' I asked, when we had tied up
our horses.
"'Siva has given to his servant to know many things,' he said quietly.
"'Did you know beforehand that the tiger was going to seize you?' I
asked.
"'I knew that a great danger threatened, and that Siva would not let me
die before my time had come.'
"'Could you see into our future?' I asked.
"The fakir hesitated, looked at me for a moment earnestly to see if I
was speaking in mockery, and then said:
"'The sahibs do not believe in the power of Siva or of his servants.
They call his messengers impostors, and scoff at them when they speak of
the events of the future.'
"'No indeed,' I said. 'My friend and I have no idea of scoffing. We have
heard of so many of your predictions coming true, that we are really
anxious that you should tell us something of the future.'
"The fakir nodded his head, went into the temple, and returned in a
minute or two with two small pipes used by the natives for
opium-smoking, and a brazier of burning charcoal. The pipes were already
charged. He made signs to us to sit down, and took his place in front of
us. Then he began singing in a low voice, rocking himself to and fro,
and waving a staff which he held in his hand. Gradually his voice rose,
and his gesticulations and actions became more violent. So far as I
could make out, it was a prayer to Siva that he would give some glimpse
of the future which might benefit the sahibs who had saved the life of
his servant. Presently he darted forward, gave us each a pipe, took two
pieces of red-hot charcoal from the brazier in his fingers, without
seeming to know that they were warm, and placed them in the pipes; then
he recommenced his singing and gesticulations.
"A glance at Charley, to see if, like myself, he was ready to carry the
thing through, and then I put the pipe to my lips. I felt at once that
it was opium, of which I had before made experiment, but mixed with some
other substance, which was, I imagine, hasheesh, a preparation of hemp.
A few puffs, and I felt a drowsiness creeping over me. I saw, as through
a mist, the fakir swaying himself backwards and forwards, his arms
waving and his face distorted. Another minute, and the pipe slipped from
my fingers, and I fell back insensible.
"How long I lay there I do not know. I woke with a strange and not
unpleasant sensation, and presently became conscious that the fakir was
gently pressing, with a sort of shampooing action, my temples and head.
When he saw that I opened my eyes he left me, and performed the same
process upon Charley. In a few minutes he rose from his stooping
position, waved his hand in token of adieu, and walked slowly back into
the temple.
"As he disappeared I sat up; Charley did the same.
"We stared at each other for a minute without speaking, and then Charley
said:
"'This is a rum go, and no mistake, old man.'
"'You're right, Charley. My opinion is, we've made fools of ourselves.
Let's be off out of this.'
"We staggered to our feet, for we both felt like drunken men, made our
way to our horses, poured a mussuk of water over our heads, took a
drink of brandy from our flasks, and then, feeling more like ourselves,
mounted and rode out of the jungle.
"'Well, Harley, if the glimpse of futurity which I had is true, all I
can say is that it was extremely unpleasant.'
"'That was just my case, Charley.'
"'My dream, or whatever you like to call it, was about a mutiny of the
men.'
"'You don't say so, Charley; so was mine. This is monstrously strange,
to say the least of it. However, you tell your story first, and then I
will tell mine.'
"'It was very short,' Charley said. 'We were at mess--not in our present
mess-room--we were dining with the fellows of some other regiment.
Suddenly, without any warning, the windows were filled with a crowd of
Sepoys, who opened fire right and left into us. Half the fellows were
shot down at once; the rest of us made a rush to our swords just as the
niggers came swarming into the room. There was a desperate fight for a
moment. I remember that Subadar Piran--one of the best native officers
in the regiment, by the way--made a rush at me, and I shot him through
the head with a revolver. At the same moment a ball hit me, and down I
went. At the moment a Sepoy fell dead across me, hiding me partly from
sight. The fight lasted a minute or two longer. I fancy a few fellows
escaped, for I heard shots outside. Then the place became quiet. In
another minute I heard a crackling, and saw that the devils had set the
mess-room on fire. One of our men, who was lying close by me, got up and
crawled to the window, but he was shot down the moment he showed
himself. I was hesitating whether to do the same or to lie still and be
smothered, when suddenly I rolled the dead Sepoy off, crawled into the
anteroom half-suffocated by smoke, raised the lid of a very heavy
trapdoor, and stumbled down some steps into a place, half-storehouse
half-cellar, under the mess-room. How I knew about it being there I
don't know. The trap closed over my head with a bang. That is all I
remember.'
"'Well, Charley, curiously enough my dream was also about an
extraordinary escape from danger, lasting, like yours, only a minute or
two. The first thing I remember--there seems to have been something
before, but what, I don't know--I was on horseback, holding a very
pretty but awfully pale girl in front of me. We were pursued by a whole
troop of Sepoy cavalry, who were firing pistol-shots at us. We were not
more than seventy or eighty yards in front, and they were gaining fast,
just as I rode into a large deserted temple. In the center was a huge
stone figure. I jumped off my horse with the lady, and as I did so she
said, "blow out my brains, Edward; don't let me fall into their hands."
"'Instead of answering, I hurried her round behind the idol, pushed
against one of the leaves of a flower in the carving, and the stone
swung back, and showed a hole just large enough to get through, with a
stone staircase inside the body of the idol, made, no doubt, for the
priest to go up and give responses through the mouth. I hurried the girl
through, crept in after her, and closed the stone, just as our pursuers
came clattering into the courtyard. That is all I remember.'
"'Well, it is monstrously rum,' Charley said, after a pause. 'Did you
understand what the old fellow was singing about before he gave us the
pipes?'
"'Yes; I caught the general drift. It was an entreaty to Siva to give us
some glimpse of futurity which might benefit us.'
"We lit our cheroots and rode for some miles at a brisk canter without
remark. When we were within a short distance of home we reined up.
"'I feel ever so much better,' Charley said. 'We have got that opium out
of our heads now. How do you account for it all, Harley?'
"'I account for it in this way, Charley. The opium naturally had the
effect of making us both dream, and as we took similar doses of the same
mixture, under similar circumstances, it is scarcely extraordinary that
it should have effected the same portion of the brain, and caused a
certain similarity in our dreams. In all nightmares something terrible
happens, or is on the point of happening; and so it was here. Not
unnaturally in both our cases our thoughts turned to soldiers. If you
remember, there was a talk at mess some little time since as to what
would happen in the extremely unlikely event of the Sepoys mutinying in
a body. I have no doubt that was the foundation of both our dreams. It
is all natural enough when we come to think it over calmly. I think, by
the way, we had better agree to say nothing at all about it in the
regiment.'
"'I should think not,' Charley said. 'We should never hear the end of
it; they would chaff us out of our lives.'
"We kept our secret, and came at last to laugh over it heartily when we
were together. Then the subject dropped, and by the end of a year had as
much escaped our minds as any other dream would have done. Three months
after the affair the regiment was ordered down to Allahabad, and the
change of place no doubt helped to erase all memory of the dream. Four
years after we had left Jubbalpore we went to Beerapore. The time is
very marked in my memory, because, the very week we arrived there, your
aunt, then Miss Gardiner, came out from England, to her father, our
colonel. The instant I saw her I was impressed with the idea that I knew
her intimately. I recollected her face, her figure, and the very tone of
her voice, but wherever I had met her I could not conceive. Upon the
occasion of my first introduction to her I could not help telling her
that I was convinced that we had met, and asking her if she did not
remember it. No, she did not remember, but very likely she might have
done so, and she suggested the names of several people at whose houses
we might have met. I did not know any of them. Presently she asked how
long I had been out in India?
"'Six years,' I said.
"'And how old, Mr. Harley,' she said, 'do you take me to be?'
"I saw in one instant my stupidity, and was stammering out an apology,
when she went on:
"'I am very little over eighteen, Mr. Harley, although I evidently look
ever so many years older; but papa can certify to my age; so I was only
twelve when you left England.'
"I tried in vain to clear matters up. Your aunt would insist that I took
her to be forty, and the fun that my blunder made rather drew us
together, and gave me a start over the other fellows at the station,
half of whom fell straightway in love with her. Some months went on, and
when the mutiny broke out we were engaged to be married. It is a proof
of how completely the opium-dreams had passed out of the minds of both
Simmonds and myself, that even when rumors of general disaffection among
the Sepoys began to be current, they never once recurred to us; and
even when the news of the actual mutiny reached us we were just as
confident as were the others of the fidelity of our own regiment. It was
the old story, foolish confidence and black treachery. As at very many
other stations, the mutiny broke out when we were at mess. Our regiment
was dining with the 34th Bengalees. Suddenly, just as dinner was over,
the window was opened, and a tremendous fire poured in. Four or five men
fell dead at once, and the poor colonel, who was next to me, was shot
right through the head. Everyone rushed to his sword and drew his
pistol--for we had been ordered to carry pistols as part of our uniform.
I was next to Charley Simmonds as the Sepoys of both regiments, headed
by Subadar Piran, poured in at the windows.
"'I have it now,' Charley said; 'it is the scene I dreamed.'
"As he spoke he fired his revolver at the subadar, who fell dead in his
tracks.
"A Sepoy close by leveled his musket and fired. Charley fell, and the
fellow rushed forward to bayonet him. As he did so I sent a bullet
through his head, and he fell across Charley. It was a wild fight for a
minute or two, and then a few of us made a sudden rush together, cut our
way through the mutineers, and darted through an open window on to the
parade. There were shouts, shots, and screams from the officers'
bungalows, and in several places flames were already rising. What
became of the other men I knew not; I made as hard as I could tear for
the colonel's bungalow. Suddenly I came upon a sowar sitting on his
horse watching the rising flames. Before he saw me I was on him, and ran
him through. I leapt on his horse and galloped down to Gardiner's
compound. I saw lots of Sepoys in and around the bungalow, all engaged
in looting. I dashed into the compound.
"'May! May!' I shouted. 'Where are you?'
"I had scarcely spoken before a dark figure rushed out of a clump of
bushes close by with a scream of delight.
"In an instant she was on the horse before me, and, shooting down a
couple of fellows who made a rush at my reins, I dashed out again. Stray
shots were fired after us. But fortunately the Sepoys were all busy
looting, most of them had laid down their muskets, and no one really
took up the pursuit. I turned off from the parade-ground, dashed down
between the hedges of two compounds, and in another minute we were in
the open country.
"Fortunately, the cavalry were all down looting their own lines, or we
must have been overtaken at once. May happily had fainted as I lifted
her on to my horse--happily, because the fearful screams that we heard
from the various bungalows almost drove me mad, and would probably have
killed her, for the poor ladies were all her intimate friends.
"I rode on for some hours, till I felt quite safe from any immediate
pursuit, and then we halted in the shelter of a clump of trees.
"By this time I had heard May's story. She had felt uneasy at being
alone, but had laughed at herself for being so, until upon her speaking
to one of the servants he had answered in a tone of gross insolence,
which had astonished her. She at once guessed that there was danger, and
the moment that she was alone caught up a large, dark carriage rug,
wrapped it round her so as to conceal her white dress, and stole out
into the veranda. The night was dark, and scarcely had she left the
house than she heard a burst of firing across at the mess-house. She at
once ran in among the bushes and crouched there, as she heard the rush
of men into the room she had just left. She heard them searching for
her, but they were looking for a white dress, and her dark rug saved
her. What she must have suffered in the five minutes between the firing
of the first shots and my arrival, she only knows. May had spoken but
very little since we started. I believe that she was certain that her
father was dead, although I had given an evasive answer when she asked
me; and her terrible sense of loss, added to the horror of that time of
suspense in the garden, had completely stunned her. We waited in the
tope until the afternoon, and then set out again.
"We had gone but a short distance when we saw a body of the rebel
cavalry in pursuit. They had no doubt been scouring the country
generally, and the discovery was accidental. For a short time we kept
away from them, but this could not be for long, as our horse was
carrying double. I made for a sort of ruin I saw at the foot of a hill
half a mile away. I did so with no idea of the possibility of
concealment. My intention was simply to get my back to a rock and to
sell my life as dearly as I could, keeping the last two barrels of the
revolver for ourselves. Certainly no remembrance of my dream influenced
me in any way, and in the wild whirl of excitement I had not given a
second thought to Charley Simmonds' exclamation. As we rode up to the
ruins only a hundred yards ahead of us, May said:
"'Blow out my brains, Edward; don't let me fall alive into their hands.'
"A shock of remembrance shot across me. The chase, her pale face, the
words, the temple--all my dream rushed into my mind.
"'We are saved,' I cried, to her amazement, as we rode into the
courtyard, in whose center a great figure was sitting.
"I leapt from the horse, snatched the mussuk of water from the saddle,
and then hurried May round the idol, between which and the rock behind
there was but just room to get along.
"Not a doubt entered my mind but that I should find the spring as I had
dreamed. Sure enough there was the carving, fresh upon my memory as if
I had seen it but the day before. I placed my hand on the leaflet
without hesitation, a solid stone moved back, I hurried my amazed
companion in, and shut to the stone. I found, and shot to, a massive
bolt, evidently placed to prevent the door being opened by accident or
design when anyone was in the idol.
"At first it seemed quite dark, but a faint light streamed in from
above; we made our way up the stairs, and found that the light came
through a number of small holes pierced in the upper part of the head,
and through still smaller holes lower down, not much larger than a
good-sized knitting-needle could pass through. These holes, we
afterwards found, were in the ornaments round the idol's neck. The holes
enlarged inside, and enabled us to have a view all round.
"The mutineers were furious at our disappearance, and for hours searched
about. Then, saying that we must be hidden somewhere, and that they
would wait till we came out, they proceeded to bivouac in the courtyard
of the temple.
"We passed four terrible days, but on the morning of the fifth a scout
came in to tell the rebels that a column of British troops marching on
Delhi would pass close by the temple. They therefore hastily mounted and
galloped off.
"Three-quarters of an hour later we were safe among our own people. A
fortnight afterwards your aunt and I were married. It was no time for
ceremony then; there were no means of sending her away; no place where
she could have waited until the time for her mourning for her father was
over. So we were married quietly by one of the chaplains of the troops,
and, as your story-books say, have lived very happily ever after."
"And how about Mr. Simmonds, uncle? Did he get safe off too?"
"Yes, his dream came as vividly to his mind as mine had done. He crawled
to the place where he knew the trapdoor would be, and got into the
cellar. Fortunately for him there were plenty of eatables there, and he
lived there in concealment for a fortnight. After that he crawled out,
and found the mutineers had marched for Delhi. He went through a lot,
but at last joined us before that city. We often talked over our dreams
together, and there was no question that we owed our lives to them. Even
then we did not talk much to other people about them, for there would
have been a lot of talk, and inquiry, and questions, and you know
fellows hate that sort of thing. So we held our tongues. Poor Charley's
silence was sealed a year later at Lucknow, for on the advance with Lord
Clyde he was killed.
"And now, boys and girls, you must run off to bed. Five minutes more and
it will be Christmas Day. So you see, Frank, that although I don't
believe in ghosts, I have yet met with a circumstance which I cannot
account for."
"It is very curious anyhow, uncle, and beats ghost stories into fits."
"I like it better, certainly," one of the girls said, "for we can go to
bed without being afraid of dreaming about it."
"Well, you must not talk any more now. Off to bed, off to bed," Colonel
Harley said, "or I shall get into terrible disgrace with your fathers
and mothers, who have been looking very gravely at me for the last
three-quarters of an hour."
* * * * *
Transcriber's Note:
A second story, A PIPE OF MYSTERY, appears after the end of
Guy in the Jungle in the publication of the book from which
this transcription has been made. The page numbering does
not continue from the first story, indicating that perhaps
plates from a different book may have been used, possibly
from "Among Malay Pirates--A Tale of Adventure and Peril"
by G. A. Henty, published also by M. A. Donohue & Company.
The words "weazened" and "dhoolie", alternative spelling
for burnous/burnouse, and alternative hyphenation in
today/to-day and eggshell/egg-shell have been retained as
they appear in the original publication.
Changes have been made as follows:
Page 3
Copyrighted 1890 _changed to_
Copyrighted 1890,
Page 7
to old friends, and, to attend to _changed to_
to old friends, and to attend to
Page 9
and to distingussh, if possible, _changed to_
and to distinguish, if possible,
Page 10
is a remarkably fine day, sir," _changed to_
is a remarkably fine day, sir."
Page 11
"Well, Mr. Torres" he said _changed to_
"Well, Mr. Torres," he said
Page 12
but my name in Chutney." _changed to_
but my name is Chutney."
Page 18
gold-dust,aromatic spices, _changed to_
gold-dust, aromatic spices,
Page 21
while the blood dripped down frrm _changed to_
while the blood dripped down from
Page 31
we proced to Zaila _changed to_
we proceed to Zaila
Page 36
and were delayed by an acident _changed to_
and were delayed by an accident
Page 42
but no hostile demnostration was _changed to_
but no hostile demonstration was
Page 45
Kakar's investing this bloody outbreak _changed to_
Makar's investing this bloody outbreak
Page 46
who suddenly appearedover the sand,hills _changed to_
who suddenly appeared over the sand-hills
Page 49
and Markar is his servant. _changed to_
and Makar is his servant."
know what was coming _changed to_
knew what was coming
Page 50
prayers would aiike be _changed to_
prayers would alike be
Page 53
In the original publication, the following paragraph appeared
as:
The caravan was now ready to start. At the last filed at a slow
trot over the sandy plain in a southerly minute Makar Makalo
passed carelessly by Guy and whispered, "Keep good heart. Makar
no forget." Then he vanished in the crowd, and, with a loud cheer
to speed them on their way, the line of camels direction.
and has been _changed to_:
The caravan was now ready to start. At the last minute Makar
Makalo passed carelessly by Guy and whispered, "Keep good heart.
Makar no forget." Then he vanished in the crowd, and, with a loud
cheer to speed them on their way, the line of camels filed at a
slow trot over the sandy plain in a southerly direction.
Page 55
layind hold of Sir Arthur _changed to_
laying hold of Sir Arthur
Page 61
with, hatred that fanaticism alone _changed to_
with hatred that fanaticism alone
Page 71
resisting the invaders., _changed to_
resisting the invaders.
Page 106
we'll be out of reach of these fiends. ages." _changed to_
we'll be out of reach of these fiends."
Page 112
Arican sun had gone down _changed to_
African sun had gone down
Page 128
"We have found it?" _changed to_
"We have found it!"
snatched from sight immediately _changed to_
snatched from sight immediately.
Page 129
where shall ge get more _changed to_
where shall we get more
Page 134
Must we starve, then" _changed to_
Must we starve, then?"
Page 136
Makaol at Zaila _changed to_
Makalo at Zaila
Page 141
declaration had it seffect _changed to_
declaration had its effect
Page 156
groaned Sir Arthus _changed to_
groaned Sir Arthur
Page 174
peaceful montony of the colonel's record _changed to_
peaceful monotony of the colonel's record
Page 183
"Melton's hearing was unusually _changed to_
Melton's hearing was unusually
Page 226
Melton huried off at once _changed to_
Melton hurried off at once
Page 243
"Oh,' says young Ormsby _changed to_
"'Oh,' says young Ormsby
Page 253
I see a cavern, _changed to_
"I see a cavern,
Page 263
Hold out a little longer. "I _changed to_
Hold out a little longer. I
Page 292
and was conveyed by them to Makar Makolo _changed to_
and was conveyed by them to Makar Makalo
Page 293
Mombagolo, the burman _changed to_
Mombagolo, the Burman
Page 213 in the second story, A PIPE OF MYSTERY
half-storehouse half cellar, _changed to_
half-storehouse half-cellar,
End of Project Gutenberg's Guy in the Jungle, by William Murray Graydon