Tippoo Sultaun: A tale of the Mysore war. Taylor Meadows. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Taylor Meadows
Издательство: Bookwire
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Языкознание
Год издания: 0
isbn: 4064066169077
Скачать книгу
when the weapon descended; and sometimes a faint shriek, which was heard at an interval of time after a thrust or blow had been seen, plainly proved that it had been successful.

      ‘By Alla, this is hard to bear!’ exclaimed Kasim; ‘to see those poor creatures butchered in cold blood, and yet have no means of striking a blow in their defence!’

      ‘It would be impossible for us to do any good,’ said the Khan; ‘suppose they were to come on here after they had finished yonder. I see nothing to prevent them.’

      ‘Inshalla! Khan, they will come; but what thinkest thou, Nursingha?’

      ‘They owe us a grudge, and may make the attempt. Nay, it is more than probable, for they are stronger than ever, and they cannot reckon on your being here.’

      19. Heavy wall-pieces on swivels.

      ‘The Patél has two,’ said the man.

      ‘Run then and bring them here—also what powder ye can find; bring the Patél himself too, and alarm the village. Kasim,’ he continued, ‘wait thou here; there is an apartment in the tower—thither I will bring the Khanum, and what valuables we have with us. I do not fear danger, but we had better be prepared.’

      In a short time the Khan returned, conducting his wife; she was veiled from head to foot, and Kasim heard them distinctly speaking as they were coming up the stairs.

      ‘Not there, not there!’ said the lady; ‘alone, and in that dark place, I should give way to fears; let me ascend, I pray thee—I am a soldier’s daughter, and can bear to look on what men and soldiers can do.’

      ‘No, no, my life, my soul!’ returned the Khan, ‘it is not fit for thee; if they should fire upon us, there will be danger; besides there are many men—thou wouldst not like it; remember too I am near thee, and once the village is alarmed thou wilt have many companions.’

      ‘I am not afraid,’ she said; ‘I had rather be with men than women at such a time.’

      ‘Well, well, Ameena, rest thou here now at all events; should there be need thou canst join us hereafter.’

      The Khan a moment afterwards was on the top of the tower.

      ‘Seest thou aught more, Kasim?’ he asked.

      ‘Nothing—the village continues to burn, and the men are there; but either the people have escaped, or they are dead, for none come out now.’

      ‘Sound the alarm!’ cried the Khan to some men below, who, bearing a large tambourine drum and a brass horn, had assembled ready for the signal. ‘If the horsemen hear it, it will tell them we are on the alert.’

      The deep tone of the drum and the shrill and wild quivering notes of the horn soon aroused the villagers from their sleep, and numbers were seen flying to the tower for refuge, believing the Mahrattas were truly upon the skirts of the village. The Patél was among the rest, accompanied by his family. He was soon upon the tower, and was roughly saluted by the Khan.

      ‘Thou art a worthy man for a Patél!’ cried he; ‘but for me, thy village might have shared the fate of that one yonder. Look, base-born! shouldest thou like to see it burning as that is? Why wert thou not here to watch, O unfortunate?’

      ‘I—I did not know—’ stammered the Patél.

      ‘Not know! well at any rate thou knowest now; but as thou art here, do something for thyself, in Alla’s name. Where is thy gun, thy sword?’

      ‘I can only use a gun, noble sir; and that perhaps to some purpose. Run, Paproo,’ he said to a man near him; ‘bring my gun hither. Now we are awake, the Khan shall see, if there is occasion, that we can fight as well as sleep.’

      ‘ had as well go down,’ said Kasim, ‘and prepare the men below: the women and children can get into the tower; those whom it will not contain must remain at the foot in these houses. It will be hard if any harm reaches them there.’

      In a short time all was arranged: the women and children, whose cries had been distracting, were in places of safety, and as quiet as the neighbourhood of the Mahratta horse, the sudden alarm, and the natural discordance of their own language (the Canarese) would allow them; and on the summit of the tower about twenty men, for whom there was ample room, were posted, all well armed with matchlocks. The two jinjalls were loaded, a good many men were stationed around the foot of the tower, and all were ready to give whatever should come a very warm reception.

      The fire of the village burned lower and lower, and at last became only a dull red glow, with occasionally a burst of sparks. While they speculated upon the route of the horsemen, who had disappeared, a few of the wretched inhabitants of the village which had been destroyed came running to the foot of the tower.

      ‘Defend yourselves! defend yourselves!’ they cried with loud voices; ‘the Mahrattas are upon you—they will be here immediately!’

      ‘Admit one of them,’ said the Khan; ‘let us question him.’

      The man said he had passed the horsemen, who were trying to get across a small rivulet, the bed of which was deep mud; they had not been able to find the ford, and were searching for it; but they knew of the village, were elated with success, and determined to attack it.

      ‘They shall have something for their trouble then,’ said the Khan; ‘they know not that Abdool Rhyman Khan is here, and they will buy a lesson: let them come, in the name of the Most Merciful!’

      ‘Away, some of ye!’ cried the Patél to those below; ‘watch at the outskirts! and, hark ye, they will come by the north side—there is an old house there, close to the gate—when they are near, fire the thatch; as it burns, we shall be able to see and mark them.’

      ‘I thank thee for that,’ said Kasim; ‘now let all be as silent as possible. Listen for every sound—we shall hear their horses’ feet.’

      There was not a word spoken. Even the women were still, and the children; now and then only the wail of an infant would be heard from below. All looked with straining eyes towards the north side, and the best marksmen were placed there under the direction of Kasim.

      ‘Thou art pretty sure of one,’ said the Khan to him; ‘I wish I could shoot as well as thou.’

      ‘A steady hand and aim, Khan Sahib;—do not hurry; if not the man, at least thou canst hit the horse. Inshalla! we shall have some sport.’

      ‘I had better take one of the jinjalls; the Feringhees (may they be accursed!) have sorely plagued us often by firing a cannon full of balls at us; so give me a few, I pray. I will ram them down into the piece, and it will be less liable to miss than a single bullet.’

      ‘Mashalla! a wise thought,’ said Kasim, handing him some balls; and a scattered fire of praises ran from mouth to mouth at the Khan’s ingenuity: ‘we shall now see whether we are to eat dirt or not.’

      They were now all silent for awhile.

      ‘Hark!’ said Kasim at length; ‘what is that?’

      They all listened more attentively; the village dogs—first one, then all—barked and howled fearfully.

      ‘They come!’ cried the Khan; ‘I have been too long with bodies of horse not to know the tramp.’

      ‘Now every man look to his aim!’ cried Kasim cheerfully; ‘half of ye only fire. And you below, fire if you see them.’

      Almost as he spoke, they saw the light; at first they were uncertain whether the spies had fired the old house or not—it burned so gently; but by degrees the flame crept along the outside and round the edges; then it disappeared under the thatch, and again blazed up a little. The noise increased, though they could see no one in the gloom, but they could hear very distinctly.

      ‘If