While all the members of the party were cheered by hope, none forgot that a dreadful peril impended. Enough time had passed since the revolt at Meerut for the news to spread even beyond the little town of Akwar, which was within a fourth of a mile of the home of Dr. Marlowe. He was aware that some of the most fanatical Mussulmans in all India lived there. The action of the servant Mustad, who owed his life to the father and child, was proof of what might be expected from these miscreants when swept off their feet by the delirium that was spreading with the frightful swiftness of a prairie fire.
Accordingly no time was lost. There was a hurried scrambling on board, the water fortunately being deep enough near shore to allow all to step upon the boat dry shod. The faint moon revealed the smooth surface of the Ganges for nearly a hundred yards from land, but the further shore was veiled in darkness. It was at this juncture that Miss Marlowe made an annoying discovery.
"Oh, papa, I have forgotten my pistol!"
"Wait and I'll soon get it," she added, starting to leap the short distance from the gunwale to land, but Jack Everson caught her arm.
"You must not think of it; tell me where you left the weapon and I'll bring it."
"I laid it on the table in the dining-room and in the hurry forgot it when we left."
Jack turned to his friends.
"Don't wait here," he said, aware of the nervousness of the whole party. "Push down stream, and I'll quickly overtake you."
Without waiting for further explanation, he leaped the slight space and started up the lawn on a loping trot. For convenience he left his rifle behind, but made sure that his revolver was in his hip pocket. He did not apprehend that he would need the weapon in the short time he expected to be absent, but if anything went awry it would be more useful than the rifle.
In that moment of profound stillness following the disappearance of the young man among the trees grouped about the lawn, the motionless people on the boat felt a thrill of terror at the unmistakable sound of oars from some point on the river not distant.
"Let us land and take refuge in your house," suggested young Wharton; "we cannot make a decent fight in this boat."
"We shall have a better chance than in the house," was the reply of the physician; "the bank of the river is shaded by trees a little further down; we must lose no time in getting there, and avoid the least noise."
There were two long poles belonging to the boat, one of which was grasped by Wharton, while Anderson swayed the other, the remainder watching their movements, which could not have been more skillful. Pressing the end against the bank, and afterwards against the clayey bottom, the craft speedily swung several rods from shore.
While the two men were thus employed, the others peered off in the gloom and listened for a repetition of the sounds that had frightened them a few minutes before. They were not heard again, nor could the straining vision detect anything of the dreaded object, which could not be far away. Not a person on board doubted that a number of their enemies were near and searching for them. Dr. Marlowe would have taken comfort from this fact had the circumstances been different; for the men who were hunting for him would go to his house, since it was there they must gain their first knowledge of his flight; but, as he viewed it, it was impossible that they should be wholly ignorant of the boat and its occupants, which must have made most of the distance before night closed in.
It followed, therefore, that if they were looking for the doctor and his family they were also looking for the boat and the fugitives it contained. The low-lying shore, with no trees fringing the bank, was the worst place for him and his friends, and he was in a fever of eagerness to reach the protecting shadows along shore. The nerves of all were keyed to the tensest point, when they caught the dim outlines of the overhanging growth, with the leafage as exuberant as it always is in a subtropical region at that season of the year. The men toiled with vigor and care, while the others glanced from the gloom of the river to the deeper gloom of the bank, which seemed to recede as they labored toward it. With a relief that cannot be imagined the bulky craft glided into the bank of deeper gloom, which so wrapped it about that it was invisible from any point more than a dozen yards distant.
It is inconceivable how a narrower escape could have come about, for the two men had hardly ceased poling, allowing the boat to move forward with the momentum already gained, when their enemies were discovered. Mary Marlowe's arm was interlocked with that of her father, when she nervously clutched it and whispered:
"Yonder is their boat!"
All saw the terrifying sight at the same moment. Almost opposite, and barely fifty yards out on the river, could be traced a moving shadow, the outlines of which showed a craft similarly shaped to their own, except that it was somewhat smaller and sat lower in the water. The men were too dimly seen for their number to be counted or their motions observed, but, as in the former instance, the sounds indicated that they were using paddles.
Since it was certain that the natives were searching for the fugitives in the boat under the shadows of the bank every one of the latter wondered that the pursuers remained out in the stream, when there was need of unimpeded vision. They half expected their enemies to turn to the left and come directly for them. But nothing of the kind took place. The craft headed down the river, the sound of the paddles so slight that only the closely listening ear could hear them, until it melted in the gloom and vanished from sight.
It was a vast relief for the moment, but little comfort could our friends take from the fact. Their enemies were not likely to go far, when they would suspect that something of the nature described had occurred, and they would return and grope along shore for their victims. So certain was Dr. Marlowe of this turn that he believed the wisest course was for the entire party to abandon the boat, and, as may be said, "take to the woods." They had the whole night before them, and, with his intimate knowledge of the roads, paths and trails of the country and jungles, he was confident of guiding them beyond danger and to some place where, when morning dawned, there would be little to fear in the way of discovery.
This course would have been taken except for the absence of Jack Everson. There was no way of apprising him of the change of plan, and, with his ignorance of the topography of their surroundings, he would be certain to go astray, and for any one in his situation, to go astray meant death.
When he informed his friends that he would rejoin them in the course of a few minutes the possibility of anything interfering with his promise did not occur to him. That danger threatened every member of the little company may be set down as self-evident, but what could happen to disturb him in the brief interval spent in running up the slope, dashing into the house and back again to the river's side?
Such were his thoughts as he entered the shadows and hurriedly approached the front veranda. Although he had reached this spot within the preceding twenty-four hours the evening meal and the preparations for flight had given him sufficient knowledge of the interior to remove all difficulty in going straight to the table in the dining-room and taking the forgotten revolver therefrom.
The first tingle of misgiving came to the young man when he was close to the porch and about to step upon it. He remembered that it was himself who had extinguished the lamp on the table as the three were about to pass into the hall and out of doors, but lo! a light was shining from that very room. What could it mean?
"That's deuced queer," he thought, coming to an abrupt halt; "I screwed down that lamp and blew into the chimney in the orthodox fashion, so it couldn't have been that I unconsciously left the wick burning."
At this juncture he made another significant discovery. The front door which he had seen Dr. Marlowe close was partly open. The inference was inevitable: some one was in the house. In the brief time that had passed one or more persons had entered and were busy at that moment in the interior. Perhaps they had been watching among the shadows on the outside for the occupants to leave the way open for them to pass within.
Prudence dictated that Jack Everson should not linger another moment. Indeed, he ought to have counted himself fortunate that he had made his discovery in time to save himself from running into a trap. He should return to his friends with the alarming news and help them in getting away with the utmost haste possible. But Jack did nothing of the sort.
The chief cause of his lingering was his desire to obtain the revolver belonging to Miss Marlowe. Recalling the paucity of firearms among the people on the boat he felt that a single weapon could be ill spared. But above and beyond this cold truth was a vague, shuddering suspicion, amounting to a belief, that the young woman would soon need that very weapon; that, without it she would become another of the unspeakable victims of the fiends who made the Sepoy Mutiny one of the most hideous blots that darken the pages of history. He compressed his lips and swore that the revolver should be recovered, if the thing were possible, failing in which he would compel her to take his own.
The first thing was to learn whether there was more than one person in the house and what business had brought them there. His own return was not expected, so that that advantage was in his favor. He stepped lightly upon the veranda and, like a burglar in his stocking feet, passed across the porch and pushed back the door far enough to admit him. This required but a few inches, and the hinges gave out not the slightest creak. The entrance to the dining-room was closed, so that all was darkness, but he plainly saw the yellow thread along the edges of the door, caused by the lamp in the room beyond.
Once within the hall he listened intently, but could not detect the slightest sound within the building. He had already drawn his revolver, and held it ready for instant use. Knowing the value of seconds, he began moving along the hall toward the door, which was only a few paces distant, and had passed half the space when a muttered execration escaped him, for his foot struck some object that was kicked the remaining length of the hall with a clatter that he verily believed must have been heard by his friends on the boat.
No use now for precaution. Determined to have the other weapon, but not unmindful of the peril involved, he strode the few remaining steps and hastily shoved open the door of the dining-room. If a foe was there with the revolver he was quite likely to hold it levelled at the intruder, because of which Jack, when he burst into the room, held his own weapon pointed, so as to prevent any enemy from "getting the drop" on him.
For one moment the young man believed it was all a mistake and that, despite the precaution taken upon leaving the house, he had not extinguished the lamp, whose wick had recovered its vigor, but the suspicion was hardly formed when he knew there was no foundation for it. In the first place no lamp ever acts that way, and, the front door having been closed, could not open of itself. More convincing than all was the fact that Mary Marlowe's revolver, which had brought him back, was missing.
Diagonally across the dining-room from where Jack Everson stood was the door leading to the rear of the house. This was open for three or four inches, and while searching the apartment with all the keenness of his powerful vision, he distinctly saw it move. The distance was no more than an inch, but he was not mistaken, and knew it had been drawn that much nearer shut. Since no air was stirring the conclusion was inevitable that some one was on the other side who was aware of the entrance of the American.
The position of the lamp on the table threw the crevice caused by the slight opening of the door in shadow, and all was blank darkness beyond. But, looking in that direction, Jack caught the gleam of a pair of eyes, peering from the gloom like the orbs of a jungle tiger gathering himself for a spring. Nothing could be seen but the glow of the eyes, that seemed to have something of the phosphorescence of the cat species, but he could not mistake the meaning of what he saw.
Jack had partly lowered his revolver, after the first glance around the room, but it now came to a level again with the suddenness of lightning and was pointed straight at the gleaming eyes, as he spoke in a low, deadly tone:
"Come forth or I'll send a bullet through your infernal brain!"
Never was man more fairly caught. In the language of the West, Jack Everson had the drop on him, and none could be more alive to the fact than the fellow who was thus taken at disadvantage. It was merited punishment for his foolhardiness in inviting his own discomfiture. At first the chances of the two were equal, but the white man was more alive to the situation.
The Asiatic showed his appreciation of the situation by stepping forward into the lamplight.
Incredible as it may seem, he not only held a pistol in his right hand, but it was half raised and pointed at Jack Everson.
The East Indian who stood before Jack Everson, thoroughly cowed and submissive, was unusually tall, dark, and thin to emaciation. He wore a turban, a light linen jacket which encompassed his chest to below the waist, with a sash or girdle, loose flapping trousers and sandals. In the girdle at his waist was a long, formidable knife or yataghan, which he would have been glad to bury in the heart of the man who had thus brought him to his knees.
When Jack Everson demanded to know his identity the fellow replied in a low voice that was not lacking in a certain musical quality:
"Mustad!"
The young man half expected the answer.
"What business brings you here?"
"He is my master; I work for him. I have been to see my aged mother, who is very ill. I have just returned to serve my master."
"That is not true! You went away to bring some of your people to kill the doctor and his family."
"Sahib does Mustad great wrong," replied that individual in a grieved voice. "I love my master and my mistress. I am not ungrateful. I would give my life sooner than harm a hair of their heads. Where have they gone?"
It was the last question that removed all lingering doubt of the native's treachery. He had returned to bring about their overthrow, but knew not where to look for them. When he could ascertain whither they had fled he and his brother miscreants would be at their heels.
"Suppose I should tell you that they had gone to Meerut or Delhi?"
"Allah be praised!" exclaimed the other devoutly; "for then they will be safe."
"Is there no trouble in Meerut or Delhi?"
"What trouble can there be!" asked Mustad, with well-feigned simplicity. "It is in those cities that the missionaries and many of the Inglese live. They have lived there many years. What harm could befall them?"
By this time Jack Everson had lost all doubt of the perfidy of the man. He could not fail to know what had taken place within the preceding twenty-four hours in the cities named, and he lacked his usual cunning when he tried to deceive his questioner.
The young man saw that it was a waste of time to question Mustad. No reliance could be placed on anything he said.
"You will wait here, then, until Dr. Marlowe comes back?"
Mustad vigorously nodded his head and replied:
"I shall wait, and my eyes will be filled with tears until I see the good man and his child again. When will they come to their home?"
"Well, the best thing you can do is to wait here until you see them again."
As Jack made this remark he took a quick step forward and picked up the revolver. He did not pause to examine it, but was sure that none of the chambers had been discharged. Slipping the weapon into his coat pocket, and still grasping his own, he said:
"I think I shall go out on the veranda and await the return of the doctor."
As he made this remark he committed a mistake for which there was no excuse. Instead of backing out of the room he turned about and started through the open door into the hall. The walking cane against which he had once struck his foot still lay where he had kicked it, and he tripped over it a second time. The mishap, slight as it was, saved his life. As he stumbled in the gloom something whizzed like the rush of a cobra's head past his temple, nipping his hat and striking the opposite wall with force enough to kill two or three men. It was the yataghan of Mustad, who had drawn and hurled it with inconceivable quickness and with an aim so unerring that it would have brained the unsuspecting American but for his fortunate stumble.
The furious Jack whirled around with the purpose of sending a bullet through the brain of the wretch, but something like a shadow flitted through the lamplight while Jack was in the act of turning and, before he could secure any aim, the scoundrel had vanished. Determined not to be balked the young man let fly, and then, bounding across the room, snapped back the door, meaning to repeat the shot at the first glimpse of Mustad. But the latter was familiar with all the turnings of the house, while Jack knew nothing of that portion of the building. He could neither see nor hear anything, and did not deem it prudent to use the lamp to help in the search, though it was hard to retire from the field and leave the miscreant unpunished.
To do so, however, was the wiser course, and again he moved into the hall. This time he backed thither, though, since Mustad had no weapon, it was impossible that the attempt upon the young man's life should be repeated. The outer door was opened, and once more he stood on the veranda.
Before venturing across the lawn in the direction of the river he spent a minute or two in peering into the surrounding gloom and listening. He may have been mistaken, but he fancied he heard more than one person moving stealthily about in the house. Once he was sure he caught the sound of whispered words, so that the astounding fact was established that during the few minutes occupied in talking with Mustad he had a friend within instant call.
"All of which goes to prove that these people are cowards at heart," was the sage conclusion of Jack Everson. "They will throw away their lives for the sake of Islamism, and they will fight like wildcats if a man turns his back upon them; but when he stands face to face they are whipped curs."
Since there was no doubt that Mustad and his companions would be on the alert to note the course taken by Everson, so as to learn what had become of his friends, the young man saw the need of misleading them. He took care not to return to the river over his own trail. Instead of doing so he moved to the right, as if on his way to the nearby town of Akwar. When satisfied he was beyond range of the keen vision of those in the house of Dr. Marlowe he made an abrupt change, which led him toward the Ganges, forgetting, when he did so, that there might be natives in the vicinity who were not in the building at all.
Had Mr. Jack Everson spent a few years in Hindoostan he would not have made the blunders that we are obliged to record concerning his movements after parting from his friends on the boat. He had acquitted himself pluckily while in the house of the physician, but his escape from death at the hands of Mustad and his companion was providential and, under similar circumstances, was not likely to be repeated once in a thousand times.
Moreover, with his knowledge, already gained, of Asiatic cunning, he ought to have reflected that if two of their dusky enemies were within the house there were likely to be others in the immediate neighborhood. It looked as if Mustad had entered the dwelling expecting to find the physician there. He was prepared with an excuse for his abrupt departure and an explanation that would satisfy his indulgent master and mistress. Keeping his companion in the background the wretch could then complete his plans for turning the party over to the fury of their brother murderers, who probably were calmly waiting on the outside for the signal.
Nothing of all this, we repeat, entered the head of Jack until he had made the change in the course he was following and had passed down the slope to the river bank. His effort to mislead his enemies necessarily took him some distance above the point where he had left the boat, and he now set out to find his way to it. It was while he was engaged in doing so that he became aware that he was followed.
"Well, I'll be hanged!" he muttered, coming to an abrupt stop; "it seems to me that these infernal imps are everywhere."
He had not seen any one, but a rustling, grating noise in the shadow of the nearest tree told him where the immediate danger lay. Believing that an unexpected course was best he wheeled and ran at full speed toward the tree, which contained a large number of dense, wide-spreading branches.
The result was surprising. Instead of one native, two leaped out from cover and ran away at full speed. They had been stealing after him, on the watch for a chance to bring him down by a blow in the back, when the tables were turned in this unexpected manner. Jack, therefore, had no hesitation in firing at the one on his right, and immediately after at his companion, whose superior speed had placed him considerably in advance. As a consequence, he missed the latter, while the first emitted a screech, leaped high in air and sprawled forward on his face as dead as Julius Caesar.
The fact that his pursuers were two in number led the young man to believe they were Mustad and his companion, whom he had heard in the house. A few minutes later he made another halt. He was able, despite the gloom, to identify the spot where he had left the boat, but it was not in sight.
"I told them not to wait for me, and they acted on my suggestion. They can't be far off, and I hope have run into no trouble."
The occurrences of the last quarter of an hour gave Jack a vivid idea of the increasing peril. The natives from the nearby town were hunting for the physician, his daughter and himself, all of whom had not left the house a minute too soon and now, while he paused on the shore of the river and listened, he too caught the sound that had filled his friends with dread. There were no noises from the jungles to the eastward, though at times the outcries are terrifying, and the shouts and shrieks of the mutineers and their victims at Meerut and Delhi were too far away to reach his ears, but he heard now and then the faint sound of paddles out on the stream.
"Anderson spoke of using paddles," reflected Jack, "but it was a misnomer, for they have none, and they would not have pushed so far out from shore when they knew I expected to return so soon. All that proves that a party of devils have also a boat and are hunting for the one in which our new friends are groping for safety."
This threatened to make a new complication, but the plain course for Jack was to keep along the shore of the river and press his search for the craft, which he was certain was not far off.
His experience had taught him the need of unceasing vigilance, and as he advanced, he scrutinized the ground in front and on every hand, like a scout stealing into a hostile camp. Within less time than he counted upon he saw the boat lying close to shore, where his friends were awaiting him. As soon as he recognized the craft he announced himself in a guarded undertone, to guard against any mistake, and the next moment clambered aboard, where, it need not be said, he was warmly welcomed.
After they had exchanged greetings the doctor asked:
"Did I not hear the report of your pistol a little while ago?"
"Inasmuch as I discharged it very probably you did."
Thereupon Jack told of what he had seen and done since leaving the boat to recover the pistol of Miss Marlowe. It was a story of deep interest to all, and his account of his meeting with the faithless Mustad deeply stirred his master.
"Despite my denunciation of the fellow I confess I had a lingering suspicion that I might have been mistaken; but all doubt now is removed. There is no native in all India to be more dreaded than he."
"I have a faint hope that it was he with whom I made my fourth bull's-eye," remarked Jack.
"Hardly likely. Probably there were two others skulking on the outside and waiting for a chance at us."
"But they had all the chance they could have asked atme."
"It may have been the doctor and his daughter whom they were the most eager to secure," suggested Mr. Turner.
"That is my belief," added Anderson.
"And mine, too," joined the doctor himself. "It seems to be a trait of our perverse human nature to hate with the deepest intensity those who have done us the greatest kindness."
This remark meant more to Jack Everson than to any one else, for he believed that it was the daughter who was the special object of the natives. That reminded him of the weapon he had secured.
"Here," he said, "take it before I forget to return it."
"You risked a good deal for my sake," she said gratefully, accepting the weapon, "and I cannot thank you sufficiently—— Well, I declare!"
She was in the act of placing the pistol in the pocket of her dress when she made the discovery that her weapon was already there. Jack Everson had taken Mustad's own property from him.
The curious incident served to lift for a brief time the oppression that rested upon all. The remarkable part of it was how Miss Marlowe could believe she had left her revolver in her home when it was in the pocket of her dress, where, it would seem, she ought to have felt it while walking across the lawn to the boat, even if she had forgotten to examine that most natural receptacle for it when she first missed the weapon.
"It is the most stupid thing I ever did," she declared. "I meant to keep it in my hand while coming from the house, and, awaking to the fact that it was not there, did not stop to examine my pocket. It is too bad."
"We have gained an additional means of defense," observed Mr. Turner, "and that may be decisive before we are through with this business."
Now that all were together again each was impatient to be on the move. Wharton and Turner began using the poles with the skill shown some time before, and once more the unwieldy craft swung slowly down the Ganges, with all on board alert for the first sign of their enemies. The women were advised to remain in the small cabin, where they would be safe against stealthy shots.
As the boat crept under the shadows along shore the spirits of all improved, for it seemed that with every rod placed behind, them the danger was diminished, and by and by would vanish altogether.
"That, however, cannot be," said the doctor to Jack Everson, as they sat a little apart from the rest, near the bow of the craft. "In truth, I see but one possible escape for this party."
"What is that?"
"I have already referred to it. It will take us weeks to reach Calcutta on the east or Bombay on the west, and between us and each of these points the hell fire will rage for months to come. To go south is equally suicidal, since it would take us into the heart of the insurrection. I repeat that there is but one thing to be done: that is to push northward, as I said, until we reach a people too far removed to be affected by this deviltry."
"To find a simple people where our knowledge of medicine will cause us to be looked upon as superior beings. I have discovered a remedy for the bite of a cobra which will stand one in good stead, should a native be bitten. They believe, you know, as does the rest of the world, that the bite of this serpent is certain death. But I have discovered a remedy, the necessary drugs of which I carry in this case," touching the leather case strapped to his back.
"Beyond all doubt. You have tested this remedy of yours?"
"I have, twice."
"Upon man or brute?"
"Upon both."
Although the two physicians were deeply interested in the question of toxicology they could not forget their situation and its perils. The craft had nearly completed its half mile to the mouth of the tributary which it was intended to ascend, when the polemen, pausing for a moment's rest, whispered that they heard the sound of paddles again.
"There they are!"
It was Jack Everson who uttered the exclamation, loud enough for all to hear. He pointed down stream as he spoke, and every one perceived the dreaded boat returning.
Although nearer at hand than before, it seemed to be following the course of the river, and there was hope that it would again pass without discovering the shrinking ones so near land.
When first observed the other boat was fifty yards out and not quite so far down stream. Moving against the current its progress was slower than before, but its advance was plainly perceptible. The craft of the white people had lost the momentum imparted by the poling, and was now controlled only by the current, which was so sluggish close to the land that the motion was hardly noticeable.
The hopes of our friends steadily rose until the other boat was almost directly abreast. It would seem that if the occupants intended attacking they would have veered inward before this, but there could be no assurance so long as they remained visible.
Every one started when the gaunt, sloping figure suddenly became upright at the prow of the boat and stood motionless. He had ceased using the pole that he had been plying with so much vigor. At the same moment the noise of the paddles ceased, proving that the men controlling them had also stopped work. What could it mean?
No one of the white people stirred or whispered. Could they have done so they would have checked the beating of their hearts through fear of being betrayed. Surely something had awakened the suspicion of the natives.
Suddenly some one spoke on board the craft. The voice was audible, but the doctor, who was a master of Hindoostanee, could not catch what was said. At the same instant a splash was heard, and the lank form bent over, as he pressed the long pole against the bottom of the river and resumed his slow walking toward the stern. The noise of paddles, too, was heard again. The craft had resumed its progress, and for an instant every one believed it was about to pass by. Then Jack Everson said:
"By heaven! they're coming for us!"
All saw that the boat was swinging around so as to head toward them.
"Into the cabin, quick!" commanded the doctor, and the women quickly scrambled out of sight, while the men lay down, so as to screen their bodies as much as possible.
"It won't do to let them come too near," added the physician. "Try to make every shot tell."
As he spoke he took the best aim he could and fired. Jack Everson was but a moment behind him, and Anderson discharged his gun almost simultaneously.
It was clear that the reception was a stunning surprise to the Asiatics in the other boat. In times of confusion and terror strong men often sit dazed and meekly submit to massacre when sturdy resistance would leave a far different tale to tell. Such was the case at Meerut, at Delhi, at Cawnpore, at Lucknow and scores of places where the human fiends revelled in massacre and crime.
But here, where evidently the same submissiveness was expected, the miscreants were fired upon before they had discharged a single shot themselves. Not only that, but the Caucasians kept the thing up. This was contrary to all rule and precedent.
If, however, the white men did not wait to be slain, neither did the dusky barbarians sit still and allow themselves to be shot down. They ceased paddling and appealed to their guns, whose bullets began whistling about the heads of the defenders in the other boat.
Who of our friends did it will never be known, but one of them perforated the gaunt scoundrel who, with his form bent over, was pushing the pole while he stalked the length of the boat, returning again to the prow to repeat the performance. The fellow emitted a screech like a wounded tiger and leaped several feet in air, coming down on the gunwale, over which he toppled into the water and was seen no more. It was the spirited defiance of the white men that told. Screening themselves as best they could they continued firing, Jack Everson occasionally adding a shot from his revolver by way of variety. The conformation of the other boat and its crowded condition prevented the natives from sheltering themselves as did those who were using them as targets. In short, the wretches were getting the worst of the business, and it did not take them long to learn the fact. Left without control, their boat began drifting with the current, which being stronger than along shore gradually carried it down stream and out of sight. So long, however, as it was visible its occupants continued firing, while the white people did still better, for they sent several shots after their enemies when they could see nothing and fired wholly by guess.
There could be no question that the promptness of Dr. Marlowe and the vigor of the resistance threw their foes into a sort of panic from which they did not recover until beyond range. They had been taught a lesson that they were sure to remember for a long time; though, when our friends came to think the matter over, after finding no one of them had been hurt, they could not escape the belief that the consequences were certain to be of the most serious nature to themselves, and in this conclusion, sad to say, they were not mistaken.
A few minutes later an open space appeared in front of the boat. It was the month of the tributary flowing into the Ganges from the left or north, and was more than a hundred yards across. Since it was necessary to stem the current in order to take advantage of this refuge, the doctor contemplated it with misgiving, for the work of poling it up stream promised to be laborious. He had not forgotten his original plan of abandoning the boat and striking across the country on foot, taking advantage of the less-frequented roads and paths that were well known to him. He was relieved, however, to find the flow so languid that it was easy to make headway against it.
"I have never followed this stream far," he remarked, "and, therefore, have less knowledge of it than the rest of the country, but my impression is that it cannot serve us long."
"It will be time enough to leave the boat and take to the woods when we can go no further," said Jack Everson; "but we cannot get away from the main stream too soon."
This was self-evident. It was not likely that the natives after their decisive repulse would abandon their purpose of massacring the party, but they would be more guarded in what they did and probably secure reinforcements, an easy thing to do when the sanguinary wretches everywhere were thirsting for victims.
Jack had seized one of the poles, and he and young Wharton plied them with so much sturdiness that the heavy craft made better progress than at any time since it was used as a vehicle of safety. The course of the tributary was winding, and our friends had not gone far when they were shut out from the sight of any persons passing up and down the main river, even if close to the northern bank.
Would the natives suspect the course taken by the whites? That was the all-important question that must soon be answered. After searching up and down the Ganges without success, it was likely they would penetrate the stratagem and follow them, in which event the fugitives would be in a critical situation, since the straightness of the stream and the wooded shores would place them at much greater disadvantage than if they remained upon the Ganges.
When the boat had ascended the tributary for perhaps an eighth of a mile it was deemed safe to lessen the work of poling. Careful listening failed to detect any sound of pursuit, and there was ground for hoping that their enemies neither knew nor suspected what had been done.
Several facts had become apparent. The densely wooded shores offered excellent concealment. By running the boat beneath the dense branches and among the heavy vegetation the keenest-eyed Asiatics might pass up or down stream almost within arm's length without suspecting its presence. But the tributary had perceptibly narrowed and its current was swifter than at the mouth. All this pointed to the truth of what Dr. Marlowe suspected—the stream could not serve them much further.
The night was now so far advanced that the women took the advice of their friends and withdrew to the cabin for slumber. Their quarters were cramped, but they made themselves fairly comfortable. The night was cooler than the day, but only sufficiently so to be pleasant. It was not deemed probable that anything would be seen of their enemies before the morrow, and perhaps not even then.
Dr. Marlowe insisted upon taking his turn in poling, but since there were four vigorous men without him, they would not consent. When two had toiled for an hour or more, they gave way to the other couple, and the progress thus continued without interruption, while the time slowly dragged along. The resting spells gave each the opportunity for sleep, thus husbanding their vigor for the morrow. Finding that there was nothing to which he could turn his hand, the physician reclined at the bow and soon joined the others in dreamland.
It was probably one o'clock when Jack Everson, who had been sleeping for nearly an hour, was awakened by a gentle shaking of his shoulder. Opening his eyes and looking up he saw Wharton bending over him.
"All right," remarked the American; "I'm ready for my turn," and he rose, yawning, to his feet.
"I think we had better rest until morning."
"Why?"
"The current has become so rapid that it is hard to make progress; this stream can't be of much further use to us."
It needed but a glance around in the gloom to see that it was as his friend had declared. The boat was so close to the left-hand shore that it was held motionless by Anderson at the bow, who gripped an overhanging branch, with one hand. The water rippled around the front of the craft, and when Jack dipped the end of one of the poles into the current it swept downward at a rate that astonished him.
"I esteem your advice good," he said, "but it will not do to leave the boat in sight."
With the help of the limbs and the use of the poles it was easy to force the craft under the bank, where it was screened from observation. Then it was secured in place against drifting and all work for the time was over.
Wharton and Jack Everson were the only persons awake. The women had been sleeping for several hours, while Anderson and Turner had long since joined the venerable doctor in the realms of unconsciousness. The two young men sat down where they could speak in low tones without being overheard.
"It won't do for all of us to sleep at the same time," remarked Jack; "the scoundrels may be creeping up stream after us."
"That is hardly possible; I am sure that for the present we are as safe as if in the heart of London."
"I cannot believe as you do; since I have just enjoyed an hour's sleep I will act as sentinel until daybreak. I can easily keep awake for the few hours that remain."
"As you think best, though I am sure it is an unnecessary precaution."
"We must not forget that there are perils from the jungle as well as from the river. There is no saying what wild beast may pay us a visit."
Inasmuch as Jack could not be dissuaded from his purpose, and Wharton began to suspect his friend was half right, the question was decided. Wharton stretched out on the deck, falling asleep almost immediately, and Jack thus found himself the only one with his senses at command and with the safety of the others dependent upon him.
He took his place near the cabin, where the women were slumbering, with his breechloader in hand. He was never more wide awake and was sure he would remain so for hours to come. Wharton had offered to divide the duty with him in acting as sentinel, but our hero preferred to keep the matter in his own hands. He was sure his friend did not realize the full peril of their situation.
The stillness was broken only by the peculiar cries in the jungle, which it may be said were never wholly silent. First on the right, then on the left, then from the front, and again from different points on both sides of the stream he heard the sounds, some faint and far away, with others alarmingly close. The hoarse snarl of the tiger, the finer cry of the leopard, the squawking of night birds, with other noises that he could not identify, were continually in the air. Had they been heard for the first time he would have been in a tremor of fear and nervousness; but man soon becomes accustomed to danger, and the nearest must come still nearer to cause his pulse an additional throb.
Jack Everson was sensible that through this medley of strange noises there was one sound that was continuous and never changing. So faint that at first he and Wharton failed to notice it, it now impressed itself too distinctly upon his consciousness for him to be mistaken. It was a low, steady hum or moaning, such as the traveller hears when miles inland from the ocean. He could not identify it, though he made several guesses, and was still speculating unsatisfactorily, when he received a startling reminder that there was a new peril at his very feet.
The first notice was a faint purring sound, as if made by a gigantic cat, accompanied by a rustling of the vegetation scarcely a dozen feet away. He instantly grasped his rifle with both hands and was alert. It was impossible to distinguish ordinary objects in the gloom, but suddenly two small circles glittered with a greenish light and the purring was succeeded by a low, cavernous growl. Then it all became clear to him: a royal Bengal tiger was stealing upon the boat and was probably gathering himself for a leap at that very moment.
Had all the occupants been asleep the frightful terror would have played sad havoc with them before they could defend themselves. As it was, it looked as if more than one fatality must follow his attack.
But for that phosphorescent gleam of the brute's eyes Jack Everson would not have been able to locate him, but the glow of the two objects defined the outlines and locality of the horrible thing as unmistakably as if the sun were overhead. The occasion was one in which everything depended upon promptness. The tiger was likely to shift his position and turn his head so that the eyes would fail to show.
Jack reflected that there probably were a number of spots in the anatomy of the jungle terror that were more vulnerable than others; that a well-aimed bullet might be instantly fatal in one, while able to inflict only a partial wound in another. Be that as it may, he was sure that a conical bullet driven between the eyes and through bone, muscle and brain by a rifle that could kill a man at the distance of a mile must do effective work when that brain was not a dozen feet distant from the muzzle of the weapon. At any rate, there was no time for inquiry and he did not hesitate.
Aiming for a point midway between the gleaming orbs he pressed the trigger. It takes a well-aimed weapon to kill a royal Bengal tiger, even at a short distance, but Jack's rifle was well aimed. The tiny sphere of lead darted through the brain and along the spinal marrow as if fired with the vicious energy of a charge of dynamite.
It so happened that the tiger was in the act of making his graceful but fearful leap that was to land him upon the breast of the young man, who had risen to his feet just before firing. The check at that instant produced a queer result, the like of which is not often seen. The shock of the bullet crashing into the head of the muscular beast at the instant he was calling into play his prodigious strength intensified that strength to a sudden and astonishing degree. The consequence was that the tiger, instead of making the leap he intended, made one twice as great and overshot the mark. From out the gloom the beautiful sinewy body, of which only a glimpse could be caught, emerged as if fired from the throat of a Columbiad and, curving over the shoulders of the man and the boat, dropped into the stream with a splash that sent the water flying in every direction.
Beyond the line of shadow, where the faint moonlight fell upon him, the tiger was seen to be a beast of extraordinary size. He emitted one rasping snarl while sailing through the air, but was already dead when he fell into the water, where it could not be seen he had made a struggle. The sinewy body dipped out of sight, bobbed up again and the next minute was swept beyond view by the rapid current.
Rather strangely, not one of the women was awakened by the report of the rifle so near them, and of the men Dr. Marlowe and Anderson were the only ones who rose to a sitting posture and anxiously inquired the cause of the firing.
"I discovered an animal prowling near the boat," replied Jack, who thought it well not to disturb them with the whole truth, "and I winged him."
"You are sure you killed him?" asked the doctor; "most likely it was a tiger."
"I am quite sure of that, and am just as sure that, considered strictly as a tiger, he is of no further account. I made another bull's-eye in his case."
"How many is that?" asked the physician, entering into the spirit of the jest.
"My fifth, counting only those that I am sure of."
"You are doing well; keep it up; let the good work go on," replied the elder, again adjusting himself for slumber, quite content to leave the valiant young American in charge of the boat and its occupants. Jack had it in mind to question him about that distant murmuring sound that puzzled him, but when ready to do so he discovered that the doctor was again asleep and he did not disturb him.
The fact that one denizen of the jungle had paid the boat a visit was ground for looking for a call from another. Jack remained, therefore, on the alert, and though under ordinary circumstances he would have fallen asleep he kept wide awake until the growing light in the sky told of the coming day. Before the sun was fairly above the horizon all were astir. They bathed faces and hands in the roiled water and greeted one another with thankfulness that the night had passed without harm to any member of the little company.
When the three men and their wives fled from Meerut they took with them enough food to last for several days. There is little excuse for people dying of starvation in any part of India, though sad to say it is only recently that thousands were swept away by famine. Fruit is abundant and little meat is necessary in hot countries. Before the morning meal was partaken of Jack Everson asked Dr. Marlowe to explain the cause of the low moaning noise that had been in his ears for moat of the night. The elder listened for a minute and replied:
"What I expected! We are very near the head of navigation; that sound comes from falls or rapids, above which we cannot go with this boat."
This announcement precipitated a discussion as to what was the best course to follow. The physician left no doubt of his sentiments.
"The devils will be prowling up this stream within a few hours; I should not be surprised if they are near us this moment; the boat is of no further use to us."
The three, Anderson, Turner and Wharton, did not agree with him. The craft had served them so well that they were unwilling to abandon it. They seemed to believe that it offered a much safer means of defense than they could find anywhere on land.
"But you cannot stay forever on it," protested the doctor impatiently.
"We do not expect to," replied Anderson; "we may decide to descend to the Ganges again, and continue down the river."
"Whither?"
"To Cawnpore or some point nearer."
The doctor was aghast.
"You mean to leap straight into the hornet's nest; those are the places, of all others, that must be avoided."
"It may be as you say, but I am hopeful that the English garrisons have been able to hold out against the mutineers."
"It is a woeful mistake, my friend; if you persist in it we must part company."