CHAPTER XXV
To the Rescue
The sun had just risen when Hira Singh, riding fifty paces ahead of thecavalcade, suddenly waved his hand as a signal to halt, leapt from hishorse, and led it behind the bushes that bordered the road. Hiscompanions reined in their steeds and awaited the explanation.
The Englishman threw his reins to the nearest sowar and stealthilyjoined the ressaidar, who was peering through the bushes. They werepassing through a well-wooded tract, abounding with mango, pipal,tamarind, and other trees, with plenty of tropical undergrowth, givinggood cover.
"What is it?" Ted asked.
"I don't know," said the Sikh. "The dust hides everything."
About half a mile away dense clouds of dust were rising in the air andfalling again to the rear, concealing all traces of the makers of thedisturbance, except that a few armed horsemen in front were partiallyvisible.
"I thought at first it might be a body of rebel horse," observed HiraSingh, "but it moves too slowly for that."
"Bullock-carts, I should say," suggested the young officer, as hetrained his glasses on the spot.
"That is what I think. There is an escort, so perhaps they carry thepoorbeahs' stores or ammunition or loot. Anyhow, we had better mount andcapture it."
They were now within about thirty miles of Agra, and the sun's rayswere darting through the foliage, the golden light playing upon theflashing sabres and glittering lance-points as the troop swept forward.Ted's men were curiously equipped, some with shields, a number withcarbines; some had sabres, others lances, and many had both; and allwere seated upon native saddles of felt. Yet Ted was a proud boy thatmorning, for, motley as was the collection, they were fine-looking men,and were they not acting under his orders! He would have been less proudhad he known what his men were charging.
The fine dust deadened the drumming of the hoofs, and until half theintervening distance had been covered the cloud in front moved forward,and rose and fell with regular cadence. Then the procession halted; theyhad been seen or heard.
Hira Singh laughed, and, lowering his lance-point, tightened the grip ofhis knees on the saddle.
"Only a rebel escaping with his goods and family," said he; "but we mayas well slay them, sahib, for without doubt they deserve it."
"Not so, Hira Singh. Let us speak them fair. We cannot tell who theyare."
There were two curtained _gharris_ or carts, each drawn by two soft-eyedbullocks. Protecting these rode three horsemen, who now stood awaitingthe onslaught, two with levelled muskets, the third with drawn sword. Itwas evident that the gharris contained their womenfolk, as for nothingless would they have stood their ground against fifty.
Crack! Crack! At two hundred yards' distance they had fired into thecloud of dust, and a bullet struck Ted just below the heart. He doubledforward with the pain, nearly losing his grip, and the bullet quietlydropped upon the saddle. He glanced at his tunic; there was not a tear,and he slowly realized that he was still alive. The bullet was spent,and it had struck him with no more force than a thrown stone of thesame size. He was hurt, but not injured.
Hira Singh's lance was couched again, and the horses were at the gallop.The shots had roused the fierce Sikh blood, and it would have gone hardwith the horsemen had not Ted sufficiently recovered his wits, and,spurring his Arab to the front, had called upon the ressaidar to pull uphis horse to a walk.
He was puzzled that the three should have stood their ground sovaliantly when escape would have been easy, and he did not mean tosuffer friends to be slain. Besides, the carts probably contained women,who would not be safe from the fury of his wild levies once they hadtasted blood. He caught Hira Singh's bridle and shouted the command tohalt, and the troop pulled up about thirty paces from the daringwayfarers. Ted rode out in front of his men.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
Instantly the strangers lowered their loaded muskets, and the handsomeold man in the centre took his sword by the blade and held the hilttowards the Englishman.
"Allah give you victory, sahib!" said the old man, stroking his graybeard with nervous fingers. "I thought ye were budmashes who had cut usoff. I did not see that thou wast a Feringhi until this moment."
"We hope that no man was hurt by our shots," added the youngest of thethree, a slight but muscular and well-made man, twenty years of ageperhaps. There was something in his appearance that took Ted's fancy--adignified bearing and demeanour.
"But what do ye here?" asked our lieutenant, "and why should ye fire atstrangers?"
"I am Yusuf Khan of Paniwar, and these are my sons. In thebullock-gharris are our womenfolk. We have fled from our home throughfear of the anger of the rebels. Know then, young sahib, that I haveraised my voice on the side of our alien rulers, warning and advisingour young men to abstain from acts of madness. The stain of blood is noton my hands."
He stretched out his open palms as he spoke. There was an honest ring inthe old man's voice, and his eye was open and steady.
"It is true," said Ramzan Khan, the younger son. "We have remained loyalto the Sirkar."
"I am from Paniwar," continued the old Mohammedan, "but for years I wassurveyor with Henry Lawrence Sahib, from Gorakhpur to Allahabad, and Iswore that his people should be as my people, and that for his sakewould I help any Feringhis who might be in need. He was my master and mytrue friend, and I loved him."
The fierce-eyed Govind Singh walked his horse to the side of Yusuf Khanand looked him between the eyes.
"So thou art also Larens Sahib's man?" he chuckled. "I also. Thou art aneater of beef and I an accursed infidel, yet for that we are bound bythe same ties to the same master--we are brothers. Dost thou believethat he is dead?"
"Aye, I know that he is dead, alas!"
"Thou art a faint-hearted disciple, old man. He lives, I say.... Well,tell me thy story."
The Mohammedan turned once more to the English officer and continued:
"The men, and the women also--and their abuse was the harder tobear--taunted me, called me an unbeliever and a renegade, a taker ofEnglish gold, because that I opposed the hot-heads. And then it came topass that I did that which caused all my neighbours to hate me. Wefound--I and my sons--a small party of English men and women wanderingabout the jungle, having escaped the fate of their murdered countrymen,and we guided them safely into Agra Fort. All would have been well had Inot foolishly given my name to an Englishman who asked for it, and theirgratitude led them to recommend me to government for a reward. But forthat my neighbours would never have known.
"And this is the reward, that we have been stoned and our livesthreatened, and to save ourselves from worse we left home last nightwith what valuables we could bring away, and set forth for Agra."
"But," objected Ted, "you are going towards Delhi, not Agra."
The old man turned and pointed backwards.
"Over there," said he, "half an hour's walk away, our road from Paniwarjoins the Agra-Delhi road, and we turned to the right instead of to theleft in order to escape our pursuers. For my son, Ramzan Khan, hadlingered near the village to see if we should be followed. We had a fewhours' start before we were missed, and, guessing whither we werejourneying, a number of the rascals followed, some on horseback, otherson foot. With bullocks we cannot travel at more than a snail's pace, andwe were unable to procure horses for the carts, so capture was certain.But Ramzan Khan, having a very swift horse, overtook us just after wehad turned into the Agra road. Hearing the news that he brought, wetried to throw them off the scent by facing about towards Delhi insteadof going on to Agra."
"I came much quicker than the budmashes," put in Ramzan Khan. "Some ofthem were on foot, and the horsemen were trotting slowly to allow therunners to keep up with them, thinking that they could not fail toovertake the bullocks."
"What, then, do ye intend to do?" asked Govind Singh. A trooper to whomhe had been whispering dismounted, and, leaving the dusty road, stoleforward under cover of the trees and undergrowth.
"Allah know
s," replied Yusuf Khan. "Perchance, having picked up ourtrail, they will ride on in their haste towards Agra without takingfurther notice of the tracks we leave in the dust. If so, we may hideuntil the danger is past. If, however, they notice that we have doubledback, all will soon be over unless ye choose to help us. When we firedwe thought ye were the very sons of Shitan themselves, who had workedround and cut us off."
"Ah!" said Hira Singh reprovingly, "that was not a soldierly thing todo, to fire before making sure."
"But," said the stranger, "did we not see you charging upon us withspears and swords?"
"He is right," said Ted, with a laugh at Hira Singh's expense. "Why,ressaidar, didst thou not wish to slay them all without stopping to makesure?"
Rishan Chand, a Dogra, stepped forward with a suggestion.
"Let the women descend from the carts," said he, "and place some of usinside, and let the bullocks retrace their steps. The troopers and you,sahib, keep out of sight, but near enough to aid. Then when thebudmashes come, the zamindar (farmer or yeoman) and his sons, and thedrivers, can pretend to run away and leave the women at the mercy of therebels. Then shall we surprise them when they peer in through thecurtains, and before they can escape ye should be upon them."
"The Dogra has sense," said Hira Singh. "Let it be so, sahib."
"If the zamindar approve, it shall be done. What sayest thou, YusufKhan?"
"It is good; all except that we should run away, I and my sons. We donot run from jackals."
"Nay, but they will suspect otherwise," Ted explained. "And if ye resistthey will fire at you and at the carts, and all will be spoiled. Ye mustconsent to play the coward."
"Sahib, it is for me to obey you," said the zamindar.
The three refugees walked their horses to the side of the conveyances,from behind whose curtains veiled faces were already peeping in anxiousbewilderment; and presently an elderly dame and three younger onesdescended and were led by the elder son--a married man--into the shelterof the bushes. Sikhs and Dogras began to peer inside the vehicles, andtwo of the former jumped in. But Govind Singh was too quick for them.
"Outside, dogs!" he shrilled. "Put back that which ye have stolen. Arethere not enough enemies from whom to steal that ye must rob friends,and one who has served with Larens Sahib? Outside, I say!"
Inside the carts was strewn in confusion as much of the old Mohammedan'sportable property as could be put together in their haste. Abashed, theSikhs dropped the few ornaments they had seized, and came out withsullen, crest-fallen expressions.
"Ho, zamindar!" called the risaldar. "Wilt thou or one of thy sons go inthis cart to see that naught is stolen? Our men are thieves; they arebut recruits who know no better."
"Nay," replied the old man, with simple dignity. "Ye are my friends. Ifthey save my honour, I do not grudge them my goods."
"If so much as the value of an anna is taken," said Ted sternly, "thethief shall answer it. Let three or four of the Dogras get in each cart;they ate smaller than ye Sikhs, and will have more room to aim. Tumblein!"
"Hide, you rascals, hide!" broke in Govind Singh abruptly. He pointedeastward, whence the scout was running towards them, in and out amongthe tree-trunks, gesticulating as he ran.
"He is signalling us to take cover," continued the risaldar. "Sons ofowls, disappear among the bushes before ye are seen! Inside the carts,ye Dogras! Quick!"
The Dogras squeezed inside and drew the curtains across; and in a momentall the troopers had disappeared, leaving Ted, Govind Singh, and the twoMohammedans beside the carts to await the scout.
"They are within sight from up there," he informed them. "I climbed atree and saw the dust they raised. They come at a trot, and will soon behere."
"What shall we do, sahib?" asked the zamindar. "We obey thy orders."
"Go forward as before, thou and thy sons," said Ted. "We shall hide onboth sides of the road. When the budmashes come close, fire at them, andthen set spurs to your steeds, keeping straight along the road, not intothe bushes where we hide. We can see to the rest, can we not, risaldar?"
Govind Singh grunted acquiescence, and with Ted left the glaring roadfor the shade of the trees, and the little caravan went on.
"Will they not mark the track of our horses?" Ted asked, beingapprehensive lest the plot should fail.
"Once they see their prey they will take no further heed to the trail.Dismount here, sahib; we can see without being seen."
A view-halloo from the distance, faint yet savagely exultant, told thatthe pursuers were within sight of the slowly-trudging bullock-carts. Amoment or two of suspense, then a shot rang out. A second report, andtwo horsemen flashed round the bend and galloped past the watchingofficers. Ted and Govind Singh were less than a hundred yards from theroad; the rest of the troop, dispersed over a large area, were ratherfarther back on either side, hidden in groups behind clumps of trees andpatches of bush.
"There's the cart," whispered Ted, as the zamindar and his son dashedpast them.
With a twist of the bullocks' tails to urge them forward, Yusuf Khan'stwo servants left their charges and scuttled into the woods. The stolidbullocks, unmoved as ever, went forward snail-like, and the foremostpursuers ranged alongside.
Lieutenant Russell trembled with excitement. The Dogras were at themercy of the blackguards, should they have courage enough to takerevenge for the trick played upon them, rather than seek first to makegood their escape.
The first four or five leapt from their horses, jabbering something thatthe watchers could not make out. Their actions, however, were easy tounderstand. They tore aside the curtains, laughing noisily; a silverstreak flashed forth from each window, and a couple of the scoundrelsstaggered aside and rolled over heavily. Their comrades jumped back asthough stung, and the expression of blended terror and amazementdepicted on their faces caused Govind Singh to give utterance to a lowpleased chuckle. Said he:
"It is the story of the hunter who chased the sambhur deer, and when hewas close upon her, and sure of his prey, she vanished amid the bushes,and lo! he was face to face with a tiger.---- Ha!---- badly aimed! Theyhave shot but two of the curs."
As their assailants recoiled the Dogras had fired. Some of thebudmashes, their courage quickly cooled by unexpected resistance, seemedanxious to leave the scene without striking a blow, but the handful ofrevolted sepoys who were with them were less cowardly, and they who hadmuskets were already loading their weapons. Meanwhile Hira Singh and adozen troopers were rapidly skirting round to the rear, and Ted knewthat the time had come. He gave a clear whistle, and the rebels turnedabruptly round.
Wild and shrill were the yells of those troopers as they sprang to thesaddle and converged from various points upon the mutineers, spoilingtheir aim, so that not a Dogra was touched. The budmashes had no mindfor further lingering. But they had hesitated too long. The lances werealready couched and sabres bared, and the Sikhs close upon them, and thetroopers' horses were fresher than were theirs, and better animalswithal. Down the Agra road clattered the would-be murderers, Ted, GovindSingh, and Ramzan Khan at their heels. Round the bend they went, and,behold, the road was blocked by Hira Singh and his dozen Sikhs, whoawaited the mob with levelled carbines.
The terrified rascals tried to turn aside, and the carbines cracked andthe lance-points fell and rose again, and Ramzan Khan's tulwar wasmerciless. There was no fight left in these rebels. They had set out tomurder and despoil those weaker than themselves; they had hunted thedeer, as Govind Singh had said, and had caught the tiger.
"Have mercy! Have mercy!" they whined, throwing down weapons and holdingtheir hands aloft, and Ted commanded that the fight should cease. He wasobliged to repeat the order more sternly and accompany it by a threat,and even then the command might have availed little with the fierceSikhs had the young lieutenant not been backed up by the veteranbrothers. As for Yusuf Khan, the zamindar, the moment Ted had spoken, hehad wiped his blade and thrust it back into the wooden sheath. His werethe wrongs, but, thought he, it was not for
him to disobey thecountryman of Henry Lawrence, who had come to his help in time of sorestneed.
The prisoners numbered sixteen; eight or ten were slain, barely half adozen escaping. The mounted men were ordered down from their seats andtied in fours, right wrist to left wrist, and bade march in front. Thewomen were replaced in the carriages, and the procession moved forwardat a walk, three or four sowars scouting in advance.
"Sahib," said the old Mohammedan, "we are grateful. You have saved usfrom a great evil."
"Ye also saved the lives of my countrymen," Ted replied, "so ye owe menaught. Indeed, ye have lost by your deed of kindness; I have lostnothing. Believe me, I will tell your story at Agra, and the governmentwill not forget you when the rebellion is over."
The zamindar engaged his sons in a whispered conversation. After a fewmoments he said:
"Your servant is not a fighter, sahib,--that much I have seen. Take myson, Ramzan Khan, as orderly, to fight by your side. He is a goodswordsman, and not without courage."
Ted jumped at the offer. Ramzan Khan met his gaze and said:
"I am your servant, sahib. I cannot forget what you have done for us."
And so it was settled that Ramzan Khan should accompany LieutenantRussell to Lucknow.
Next day they crossed the Jumna by the bridge of boats, and Ted landedhis convoy and his prisoners safely in Agra Fort, where he was warmlywelcomed by Colonel Boldre, who was introduced by no less a person thanClaude himself. Ted's new colonel was a little man, of slight build, andof rather insignificant appearance, until one noted his eyes and mouth.Ted soon perceived that he was active and alert, with an air ofdecision, and the lieutenant took to his commandant at once. ColonelBoldre listened to the youngster's narrative, and laughed at the storyof the trick played upon the rebels. He inspected his new troops, andwas particularly pleased with the look of Govind and Hira Singh, whosehearts he quickly won. Colonel Boldre had a thorough knowledge of Sikhcharacter, and understood their ways, and when his poorbeah regiment hadmutined, the Sikhs had remained loyal, and had saved their colonel'slife.
Ted made a good meal of salt beef and pickles, and when tiffin was overhe and Claude left the colonel and strolled outside the ramblingbuilding.
"I never expected to see you here," said Ted as they quitted the room.
"I suppose not. As soon as I heard that the pater had been givenpermission to raise a corps I asked him to apply for my exchange. He didso, and here I am. Knowing that you would prefer this sort of work tobeing in the regulars, I asked him to put in a word for you also. Icracked you up no end as a horseman and soldier."
"You're a brick! It was jolly good of you to think of it. I suppose youdidn't much care to be under Hodson after what's happened?"
Claude Boldre turned on Ted with a queer expression in his eyes--halfvexation, half amusement.
"You're alluding to the shooting of the old emperor's sons, I suppose?"said he.
Ted nodded. "Hodson's a brave man--there's no one who risks his own lifemore; but one can hardly respect an English officer who coulddeliberately shoot his prisoners in cold blood."
"Cold blood be hanged, Russell! Your blood wouldn't be very cold if youwere faced by ten times your own number, clamouring for the rescue ofyour prisoners."
"Perhaps not, but they were not resisting. They were not showing fight,and he ought not to have killed them. They were men like himself, buthe showed no more compunction than if they'd been wolves or tigers."
"Those prisoners were a jolly sight worse than wolves or tigers,Russell, a jolly sight more wicked. I don't think you can know the wholestory. Hodson has a number of enemies because he's been so prominent,and he is rather arrogant and zubberdusty (high-handed) at times. He hastrodden on other people's corns, and they've been too ready to believethe worst without taking all the circumstances into account."
"But, you know, he got into trouble over the Guides," Ted interrupted."Falsified the accounts and collared the money, or something of thesort."
"Not a bit of it. He had a row with one of the Pathan officers, and hewas rather zubberdusty; but as for the dishonesty, that was only a taleset afloat by busybodies. The affair was investigated by Reynell Taylor,and you'll admit that he would never condone anything wrong."
"Yes," Ted agreed, "if he absolved Hodson it's all right."
"Well, he did so. He said there was not an anna not accounted for, andthat the books were badly kept, because Hodson wasn't cut out for aclerk, being always in the saddle, doing police and soldier work. Now,as to this other business. It was Hodson who captured the old Mogul whenperhaps no other man could have done it, and he didn't put him to death.Then he offered to go and bring in the princes--the vicious brutes who'dmurdered the English men and women in Delhi. With a handful of histroopers he set out for the tiger's lair and captured them. They beggedhim to spare their lives when they surrendered, but he resolutelyrefused to give any promise. On the way back he was cut off by a mob ofarmed fanatics, who were keen on rescuing the princes. Hodson's ownaccount, and that of his sowars, is that if he had hesitated a moment hewould have been overwhelmed and killed and they would have escaped, andhe was determined that the vile murderers should be punished and made anexample of. Without hesitation he answered the clamour of the mob byshooting the princes himself; and his promptness cowed the fanatics.They melted away, and not one of his men was hurt."
"Yes; but was he not exaggerating the danger?" contended Ted.
"He's the only one who can judge of that," Boldre replied. "And with allhis faults, I believe Hodson to be an honourable man. The prisoners werebound to be hanged. No one even attempted to deny their guilt, and theirlives being forfeit, I don't suppose Hodson considered it wrong toanticipate their fate by a day or two, when by so doing he could savethe lives of his own men.
"It was a big responsibility," Claude continued as Ted remainedthoughtful, "and he had the courage to take it, believing it to be theright course. He may have been wrong. I admit I don't like the thoughtof it, but it was done from no motive of cruelty."
"You've put the affair in a new light," Ted confessed; "but all thesame, I wish he had not done it."
"So do I," agreed Boldre. "But look here, Russell, suppose the princeshad been rescued to spread rebellion by the magic of their name as thedescendants of the Grand Mogul. Would not those who are now decrying himmost have been the first to attack him for having allowed them toescape?"
"Well, perhaps they would," said Ted.
"No, I did not exchange because of that," Claude went on, reverting toTed's earlier question, "but because I wished to serve under the pater.I've seen so little of him for years, and he's a good soldier, everyonesay so. Very few of the Company's colonels have been given new commands,you may have noticed, and the pater is one of the few."
"Yes, it's rather marked that the newly-raised regiments are mostlycommanded by lieutenants and captains."
A hand tapped Ted's shoulder. Turning, he perceived his new orderly,Ramzan Khan. In reply to the look of enquiry the Mohammedan said:
"It is not safe to go so far from the fort, sahibs. The people of Agrado not love the English."
"He's right," said Claude. "We'd better get back."
"Is there any--" Ted stopped short with a little gasp. He stood staringwith wide-open eyes, and his companions followed his gaze.
"Is that the famous Taj Mahal?" he asked in a tone of awe; and Claudenodded.
Our lieutenant of Irregular Horse having become accustomed to thewonders of the East was not easily moved to admiration thereby. But nowhe was spell-bound by the beauty, the exquisite perfection of thatlovely dream-palace, perhaps the most awe-inspiring work of men's hands.In the ardour of argument he had not noticed the wonder, and now hecould not take his eyes from that central dome, white and etherealagainst the deep blue of the Indian sky, with its cluster of smallerpearly domes, the whole great and grand and yet unreal, as if the visionmust shortly fade away. Men have attempted to depict the Taj Mahal inprose and poetry and pa
inting, and have all admitted the featimpossible. "Go to India," Lord Roberts has said; "the Taj alone isworth the journey."
This vast tomb, known as the Taj Mahal, was built by the Emperor ShahJehan in memory of his wife, and finished about the year 1640, when theMoslems were the great architects of the world. Forbidden by theirreligion to make images of men by painting or sculpture, they devotedtheir genius to architecture; and the mosques and tombs of Hindustan,and the Alhambra and other Moorish buildings in Spain, bear witness totheir surpassing power.
Ramzan Khan looked downcast as they turned away.
"Ah!" said he sadly, "in those days were the true believers the leadersof mankind. We are unworthy children of our great fathers."
The Disputed V.C.: A Tale of the Indian Mutiny Page 26