Barclay of the Guides Page 12

  CHAPTER THE TWELFTH

  Bluff

  Before morning broke, however, it was clear that the march must beintermitted. The girl was in no condition to walk, nor could she sit thehorse; and the palki-wallahs, men of no great stamina or musculardevelopment, were worn out. Bitterly as he deplored the necessity, Ahmedsaw that further progress was impossible for the present, and promisedthe men that if they would hold out until the dawn, which must be athand, he would let them have a long rest. He was still hoping thatdaylight would reveal the encampment of the Guides.

  Very soon afterwards the sky lightened, and he saw nothing but the longdusty road and the wide plain on either side. It would clearly be unsafeto continue the journey now that they could be seen, so a hiding-placemust be found where they might lie up in comparative comfort during theday. The men were so exhausted that he ventured now for the first timeto leave them, to search for a hiding-place himself. At a littledistance from the road he discovered a nullah, and, scrambling up thebed of the watercourse, now nearly dry, he came upon a spot overgrownwith thorn and brambles, which would shelter the whole party, save,perhaps, the horse. He retraced his steps, explained to the girl what heproposed to do, and led the horse in advance of the party to the placeof concealment. When they were settled there, he found, a little higherup, a tall bush standing almost as high as the horse's head, and therehe left the animal, speaking to him, and knowing that the faithful beastwould not move from the spot until his master called him.

  The bed of the watercourse was fairly steep. Two or three tall treesoverhung it. Ahmed thought by climbing one of these he might get a viewof the surrounding country. He managed to make the girl understand thathe wished her to watch the bearers, and use the knife upon any of themwho should attempt to escape or call out. Even if she had not the nervefor such action, he thought that the men, having heard what he said,might shrink from putting the matter to the test.

  Then he scrambled up the side of the nullah and nimbly climbed thetallest tree. What he saw from his perch was not reassuring. A little tothe right of the road, perhaps a koss distant, a troop of horsemen,dismounted, were resting at the edge of a small plantation, whichconcealed them from any one passing along the highway. Beyond them theground rose slightly, scarcely enough to be called a hill, and yetsufficiently to cut off any more extended view southward. Far away onall sides stretched open country, with little vegetation except patchesof scrub. Many miles to the left he fancied he descried the white roofsof a village, but in front the road ran between almost bare plains.

  Ahmed guessed that the plantation at which the men were restingsurrounded a tank where they had watered their horses. He had no doubtthat they were those who had passed in the night. Yet he wondered whythey had halted at that particular spot, for if it was a tank, there wasin all probability a village on the other side of the rising ground. Hewatched them for a time, and presently saw a man riding towards themfrom round the shoulder of the hillock. As he reached them, some of thedismounted men crowded about him; in the distance they looked to Ahmedlike flies clustering. After a time two of them mounted their horses,and accompanied the new-comer along the high-road in the direction ofDelhi. When they came near the crest of the rising ground they haltedand dismounted. One of the men held the horses in the middle of theroad, while the others went on foot to the top, and graduallydisappeared as they descended on the further side. The third manremained motionless with the horses in the road.

  Ahmed felt interested. What were they about? What lay beyond thehillock?

  After a while he saw two figures reappear on the skyline. They were nodoubt the same two, for they walked down to the man with the horses,mounted, and trotted back to the main body. A few minutes afterwards twoother men left the plantation and rode up the acclivity as the othershad done, dismounting also before they reached the top. While one heldthe horses the other ascended the slope, with a slowness that spoke ofcaution, and went out of sight as the others had done before him. Ahmedlooked for him to return after an interval, but minute after minuteslipped away and still he did not reappear. Had he gone on some scoutingerrand, or perhaps to take post as sentry? It was clear that on thefurther side of the hillock something was going on in which the horsemenon this side were keenly interested.

  All at once the explanation occurred to Ahmed. The Guides were withoutdoubt encamped beyond the hillock. It had been their practice allthrough the march from Mardan to halt in the early morning. The horsemenat the plantation were probably a roving band of mutinous sowars fromDelhi, who had been raiding, and now found the Guides between them andthe city. To obtain confirmation of his conclusions, Ahmed slipped downfrom the tree and asked one of the men whether there was a villagebeyond the hillock.

  "Truly there is," said the man, "and it is some seventeen koss fromKarnal."

  This was the distance the Guides might be expected to march during thenight.

  "And how far is it from us?" he asked.

  "Thy servant knows not with any certainty, but maybe it is two koss."

  It was a tantalizing situation to be in. Ahmed felt sure that hiscomrades were encamped within an hour's march of him and yet he couldnot reach them. Why had the sowars halted at the plantation instead ofreturning to Delhi by some roundabout route? And yet, he reflected, evenif they were not there, he could hardly dare to move on in the broaddaylight. There were the same dangers to be feared as had determined hisprevious conduct.

  The position was delicate enough. The sowars might take alarm. In thatcase they would probably retreat to find some shelter, and might easilycome upon the very nullah in which the little party was concealed. TheGuides would no doubt remain in their encampment for the greater part ofthe day, moving on again when night fell. Even if the rebel horsemenshould not be scared by any action of the Guides, it was always possiblethat some of them should take it into their heads to go a-roving. At anymoment, too, a villager, a wandering mendicant, a kasid from one villageto another, might cross the plain and get sight of the fugitives. Therewere signs of footpaths, and passers-by would not need to come right upto the nullah before suspecting the presence of the hidden party, forRuksh was but imperfectly concealed by the bush.

  Moreover, the party would soon be in want of food. The bearers had withthem provisions for only one day, and though Ahmed did not know how muchfood was in the palki, he suspected that it was very little: thezamindar would hardly have foreseen the possibility of so long a delayin reaching his brother's house. Ruksh could find some little sustenancein the leaves of the shrubs around him, but he would soon strip thembare. There was water in the bed of the nullah, and the bearers hadalready given the girl some in the lotah she had used before; theythemselves of course, being Hindus, would not drink from the vesselwhich her lips had contaminated, but stooped and lapped up the runningwater. But none of the party was in a condition to wait through the longhours of an Indian day in the hottest season of the year, and then toundertake a night march, without more refreshment than it seemedpossible for them to obtain. Ahmed thought over the situation with nolittle anxiety. To move away might be immediately fatal; the onlyalternative was to remain hidden on the chance of the sowars by and bymoving off.

  Once more Ahmed climbed the tree to keep watch. The sun rose higher andhigher, and yet there was no sign of a movement among the party. Butafter some time he noticed the man who had gone over the brow of thehill returning. He came much faster than he had gone. Rejoining hiswaiting comrade, he mounted his horse, and the two galloped down to therest. Instantly the whole party sprang to their feet, loosened theirhorses, and sprang into the saddle. A few even started to ride acrossthe plain in a straight line for the nullah, and Ahmed feared that in afew minutes the fugitives would be discovered. He knew that if they wereseen there was no help for them; with his single hand he could donothing against a troop of horse. The sowars came on until they werewithin a hundred yards of the nullah, and Ahmed shrank back among theleaves, fearing lest he might be seen and so draw the men on. But the
ysuddenly wheeled half round and cantered to the road, where they halted.

  Their comrades meanwhile, though they had mounted their horses, had notleft the plantation. Apparently they were waiting to see if the reportbrought to them by their scout was correct. After some time theyappeared to decide that it was a false alarm, for half-a-dozen now leftthe main body and rode up the hillock, dismounting as the others haddone previously, and skirmishing forward over the crest. In a fewminutes they returned and trotted back again. The smaller body who hadtaken panic returned slowly to rejoin their comrades. They alldismounted, tethered their horses, and once more stretched themselves atease under the shade of the plantation.

  Ahmed watched them for a long time. There was no sign of furthermovement among them. It looked as if they had settled down to dozethrough the hot hours of the day. The prospect of being kept at astandstill became more and more unendurable. To say nothing of thetorture of remaining through the long hours of torrid heat withoutadequate protection or sufficient food, there was the danger that, ifhis journey could not be resumed until nightfall, he would reach theencampment of the Guides only to find them gone. Was it not possible, hewondered, in some way to get past or round the men who lay between himand safety? Obviously the whole party, with the palki, could not advanceopenly across the bare plain. Nor could he alone venture to go, in thetell-tale uniform of the Guides, to bring assistance to the missy sahib.If only he were clad in the costume of Shagpur he would have risked theattempt.

  Suddenly a new idea crossed his mind. Was it possible to disguisehimself? The palki-wallahs could not help him; they had little on buttheir loin-cloths. He wished he had stripped the zamindar whom he hadleft on the ground. There was not likely to be a spare dhoti in thepalki. But he remembered the coloured hangings of that vehicle. If hetore those down and wound them over his khaki tunic, they might raise aquestion as to what his race and position were, but they would certainlynever cause any one to suspect that he was one of the Guides.

  Hitherto he had shrunk from leaving the missy sahib. But now theposition was desperate. To die of fright, hunger, and exposure to theheat might be her fate; an accident might at any moment lead to herdiscovery; yet there was at least a chance that by carrying out the planwhich had suggested itself to him he could secure her safety. Thebearers had been cowed into submissiveness; the natives, for all theirbrave talk, were very amenable to stern and authoritative handling.Threats of grievous punishment on the one hand, and promises of liberalbakshish on the other, might at any rate keep their wills in a state ofoscillation, so that they would not make up their minds to any positivecourse. And if only the missy sahib would summon up a little resolution,and show that she meant to use the knife he had given her if theyattempted to betray her whereabouts, he would feel a certain confidencein leaving her for a time. He could at any rate fasten them more tightlytogether. There were creepers growing on the sides of the nullah, andstrands of these would make very serviceable bonds.

  His resolution fixed, he climbed down the tree and crept to the palki.It was difficult for him to explain his purpose to the girl without theassistance of the bearers, but he did not wish them to know too much.The missy sahib herself was so depressed from anxiety and want of sleep,as well as from the effects of the heat, that she was slower toapprehend than she might otherwise have been. But he succeeded after atime in making her understand that he was going to bring help from thesahibs, who were very near at hand, and that during his absence she wasto strike without compunction any of the bearers who tried either tofree himself or to give an alarm. Then he cut lengths of creepersufficient for his purpose, and tied the men's arms and legs together sothat they could not move. He did not gag them; they were in a state ofabject submission; and when he told them that the missy sahib wouldcertainly kill them if they uttered a word above a whisper, theydeclared that they had no tongues until he gave them leave. Then hewrenched the muslin curtains of the palki from their fastenings, andwith the missy sahib's help his khaki was soon entirely concealed.

  As she twisted the stuff around him she suddenly said--

  "There is a little black hole in your pagri, and the cloth is scorchedaround it. Did you know that?"

  He did not understand her until at her bidding he took the pagri fromhis head, and she pointed to the spot. Then he remembered that thezamindar had fired almost point-blank at him, and did not doubt that thebullet had gone through his head-dress. But he had no words to explainthis to the girl, and would hardly have done so if he could. It had beena narrow escape: a Pathan took such incidents as a matter of course.

  Having made his preparations, he repeated his orders to the men, and ledhis horse gently up the nullah towards the road. It was now midday; thesun burnt at its fiercest; not a living soul was passing along the road,and the horsemen at the plantation were without doubt in a state ofsomnolence. It was not at all improbable that he might mount and ridesome paces before he was seen. He crept quietly along the nullah untilhe reached the end, then sprang lightly into the saddle, walked thehorse the few yards to the road, and urged it to a mad gallop towardsDelhi. Some few seconds passed before the clatter of the hoofs was heardby the men dozing in the plantation; then some of them rose lazily totheir feet and gazed at this strange figure in yellow and red tearingalong so furiously. As soon as he was within hailing distance Ahmedflung up his arms and shouted--

  "The Feringhis! The sahibs! They are upon us! Fly for your lives!"

  The effect was magical. The lethargic sowars were galvanized intoactivity. Those who were already upon their feet rushed to their horses,unloosed them, and in a few moments were galloping at a headlong speedin a direction at right angles to the road. Those who had as yet beentoo sleepy or too incurious to rise sprang up and followed theircomrades' example. Soon the whole party was scattered, each man ridingas his fear directed him, the dust of the plain flying up in clouds fromthe heels of their horses. And still Ahmed rode on, crying lustily, "Thesahibs are upon us!"

  He breasted the hillock, topped the crest, and gained the other side.Then he saw what had so much occupied the sowars earlier in the day.Some three miles ahead of him the white tents of the Guides gleamed inthe sunlight. Between him and them there was a small mounted patrol ofthe same corps. He gave a joyful shout, and Ruksh flew down the gentleslope with responsive gaiety. The men of the patrol caught sight of himas soon as he of them, though in the distance it was impossible todistinguish what or who he was. On he rode, and as he drew nearer hebegan to tear off the coloured muslin that disguised him. The khaki wasdisclosed. Wondering, the sowars of the patrol watched as he approached,shading their eyes against the sunbeams. Presently one of themrecognized the horse; there was no horse like Ruksh in the corps. Thenanother shouted, "'Tis Ahmed!" and cantered to meet him.

  "What news?" he cried.

  But Ahmed galloped past, throwing a mere word of greeting to hiscomrades. Nor did he draw rein until he reached the commandant'squarters. Then his story was quickly told. Five minutes afterwards ahalf-troop rode out under Lieutenant Hawes, Ahmed leading the way. Whenthey reached the crest there was no sign of the mutineers. They hadutterly vanished off the plain. Riding down to the nullah, they foundthe palki-wallahs lying fast asleep in the shade of the bushes whereAhmed had left them, and the missy sahib asleep in the palki, graspingthe knife. Ahmed flung himself from his horse, kicked the bearers awake,and cut their bonds. Meanwhile Lieutenant Hawes was trying to awaken thegirl, speaking to her quietly so as not to startle her. His low tonesmaking no impression, he touched her lightly on the arm. She sprang upwith a shriek, lifting the knife. Then, seeing an English face, andhearing an English voice, she flung down the weapon and, to LieutenantHawes' amazement, fairly flung herself into his arms.

  "Poor child! You are safe now," he said. "Here, you," he cried sharplyto the palki-wallahs, "get to your poles; quickly!"

  The four men hastened to obey, and the party set off to return to thecamp.

  "Your nobility will remember the bakshish," said one
of them to Ahmed asthey started.

  "Chup! Am I not one of Lumsden Sahib's Guides?" was the answer.

  Later in the day, Ahmed told the whole story in detail to the group ofofficers. The missy sahib had already given them her version of it, andhad indeed sung the praises of the young Guide, and asked Captain Dalyto reward him handsomely. Daly, however, knew that the proud native ofNorth-west Hindustan is a good deal more sensitive in matters of thiskind than the average man of the plains, and while giving Ahmedunstinted praise, he refrained from offering any tangible recompense.

  "I am proud to have you in the corps," he said. "The matter will not beforgotten, and when we have finished the march, and have a little timeto rest, I will give you a sheep so that you may feast your friends."

  Praise from the sahib was reward enough to the men of the Guides. AndSherdil, who had heard the story from Ahmed previously, was envious, andbemoaned his ill-luck in missing the opportunity which had fallen to hisfriend.

  "May water never flow through that accursed nullah!" he cried. "None ofus were able to leap it; it took me half-an-hour to get my horse out ofit, and the others had to go a great way round about. And then we wererecalled, but we returned later and sought you, and found, not you, buta dog of a Hindu lying with a cut in his shoulder, and we finished whatyou had left undone."

  Savagery was in the blood of these men. The butchery of a wounded mangave them no compunction, and Ahmed, who had grown up among them, was asignorant as they themselves of the chivalry which bids an Englishmanspare his beaten foe.

  When the evening cool descended, Captain Daly sent the missy sahib underescort to Karnal, where she would be safe under the protection of Mr. LeBas.

  It was the morning of the 9th of June when the Guides reached the campon the Ridge, two miles north-west of Delhi. They marched in as firm andlight as if they had come but a mile instead of thirty. News of theirgreat achievement had been brought in by native couriers, and a vastcrowd was assembled to meet these intrepid warriors who had covered fivehundred and eighty miles in twenty-two days. As they reached the lines,Ahmed was amazed to see some of the infantry break their ranks and rushup to an English officer distinguished by his very fair hair. They clungto his stirrups, some kissed his hands, others his feet, pressing uponhim with such excitement as to cause alarm to some of hisfellow-officers.

  "What is it?" asked Ahmed of Sherdil.

  "'Tis that they are pleased to see Hodson Sahib. He was our commanderwhen Lumsden Sahib went over the black water, and we love him. Wah! heis a fighter. See him with the sword: there is no match for him. It isgood to see him again."

  And then came an opportunity for these hardy warriors to show the stuffof which they were made. Even as they approached the Ridge astaff-officer galloped to meet them, and accosting Captain Daly askedhow soon he could be ready for action.

  "In half-an-hour," replied the gallant captain.

  It happened that since early morning parties of horse and foot hadsallied from Delhi to attack the advanced posts of the British. Sinceattack is ever the best defence, General Barnard ordered his men to moveout and drive back the enemy. The Guides went forward at the trumpetcall with irresistible dash, and were soon engaged hand to hand with thevastly superior numbers of the mutineers. They carried all before them,but at a heavy price. Lieutenant Battye was shot through the body, anddied murmuring "Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori." Lieutenant Haweswas clipped across the face with a sword, Lieutenant Kennedy was woundedin the arm; and Captain Daly himself, after having his horse killedunder him, was struck in the leg by a spent bullet. Many of the men werekilled or wounded. But to be in the thick of a fight was as wine to theGuides. Every man burned to uphold the honour of the corps, and thoughthey were saddened by the loss of so many officers and men before theyhad even pitched their tents, they were conscious of having bornethemselves as their loved commander Lumsden Sahib would have wished themto do, and were content.