Chapter Three.

Chapter Three.A Midnight Intruder—A Hunting Party—Cheetahs and Trained Deer—A Warlike Expedition—The March—The Women left Encamped—Surprised by the Mountaineers—Attack on the Mountain Fort—Faithful saves the Rajah’s Life—The Cavalry take to Flight—Surrounded by Foes—Rescued by Burnett.Reginald had thrown himself on his couch without undressing, no bedclothes having been provided; his baggage, not very extensive, was placed in one corner of the room. His portmanteau contained some important documents, which he wished no eye but his own to scan till the time for producing them had arrived. Faithful lay down before him much like a dog, with her eyes half open. He had been for some time asleep when he was awakened by a low growl, and on looking up he saw Faithful on the point of rising, her eyes glaring towards the further end of the room. A curtain which served instead of a door was drawn aside, and by the faint light of a lamp, almost burned out, he observed a person steal into the room with a dagger in his hand. The intruder crept along close to the wall, apparently not observing the tigress; when she rose to her feet, and would in another instant have sprung upon him, had not he, on seeing her, bounded back through the doorway far more quickly than he had entered.Reginald, unwilling to create a disturbance, called Faithful back. She obeyed instantly, and again lay down by his side. The intention of the midnight intruder was apparently either to murder him or to pilfer his baggage, though the dagger looked very suspicious.“Good Faithful, you behaved admirably,” said Reginald, patting his favourite’s head. “I feel very sure that you will watch over me, so I will once more try to sleep.”Saying this, he again lay down, confident that, whatever had been the stranger’s intention, he was not likely to repeat the attempt.Captain Burnett, to whom he narrated the next morning what had occurred, declared that no one had entered his room. They agreed, however, to keep watch the next night, in order to try and catch the intruder.“If we can catch the fellow, whoever he is, we must carry him before the rajah,” observed Burnett. “And I must warn you also, Reginald, that we must be careful what we eat; these natives are adepts in poisoning, and would not scruple to exert that talent if they considered it convenient.”A handsome breakfast was served them, with all sorts of Oriental delicacies; and during the repast, at which several slaves attended, Captain Burnett described in Hindostanee, as if speaking to Reginald, a wonderful rod he possessed, which had the property of discovering poison—as also the poisoner, by whirling itself about as soon as he appeared, and pointing towards him. He spoke in a natural, offhand manner, as if there was nothing unusual in what he was saying.Soon after the repast they were summoned into the presence of the rajah, who told them that one of his principal officers would take them on a hunting expedition, if they wished to see the style of sporting generally followed in his province. They of course expressed their gratitude, and at once accepted the offer.“You may go this very day, as the khan is about to set out,” said the rajah. “For myself, I am getting too old to engage in such sports for amusement. I may have ere long to lead my troops to battle; but that is a very different affair. Horses are already prepared for you.”In a few minutes Reginald and his friend found themselves in the midst of a large party of Oriental cavaliers in gay costumes, mounted on richly-caparisoned steeds, headed by the Khan Mukund Bhim, who was a remarkably good horseman. Off they set at a rate which, in little more than an hour, carried them to a distance of twelve miles or more from the city. They now entered a wild part of the country, on the borders of a forest, where a band of huntsmen, with several cheetahs and eight or ten trained stags, had been appointed to meet them.“We will show you some fine sport presently,” said the khan; and after allowing their horses a little rest, they again set forward. A party of bearers followed, carrying in a cage a cheetah or hunting leopard, an animal which may be described as in size and shape between the hound and the leopard. Its body is slenderer and more elevated than that of the latter animal, while it does not possess the graceful form of the common leopard; and its head, which is smaller, is peculiarly ugly; its tail is like that of a cat; and its body seems formed more for strong muscular exertion than for active and long-continued speed. Though possessing the sagacity and fidelity of the dog, it is undoubtedly feline in its habits. Its general colour is a bright yellowish-brown, lighter on the sides, and nearly white beneath, marked with numerous small black spots all over, which are continued along the tail so as to appear like rings; its ears are short and rounded, while from each eye a blackish mark runs down to the corners of the mouth, the extremity of the nose being black. The fur, instead of possessing that sleekness which distinguishes the feline race, is peculiarly crisp.As the party neared the spot where it was expected that the deer would be found, the cheetah was taken out of its cage and led forward by a keeper with a chain, just as a large dog would be led—its head, of course, being covered. When led without any such protection, it is very difficult to manage. Should it scent a trail upon the ground, it begins to throw its head aloft and peer about. To restore its tranquillity, the keeper places a cocoanut shell sprinkled on the inside with salt to the animal’s nose. The cheetah licks the salt, and losing the scent forgets the object which attracted its attention. As soon as it again exhibits signs of excitement, the cocoanut shell is applied to its nose, and it again becomes manageable.At length several deer appeared at a short distance, on some marshy ground, with bushes intervening. The khan gave a signal to the keeper, who slipped the leash, and the cheetah began to steal cautiously towards the herd, taking advantage of the bushes and high grass to conceal itself. On it went like a cat, till it got within a short distance of the deer. They at length discovered its approach, and went bounding forward over everything that impeded their progress, jumping, running, and wading through the marsh with frantic energy. The cheetah’s blood was up. It singled out one of the animals, and away it went, bounding catlike over the bushes; plunging into the morass, though hating water, rather than allow its prey to escape. Off started the hunting party, now keeping their eyes on the flying deer, now upon the persevering cheetah. It was no easy task, however, to keep the chase in sight, as they scampered over the marsh and thick grass. Indeed, they put the horsemanship of all the party to the test. While the rest of the deer escaped on either side, the one the cheetah had fixed on had kept a straight course, now by the side of a nullah, now over the wiry grass, now through thick bushes. The cheetah meanwhile skimmed over the surface of the ground, as if requiring no rest for its feet. The forest appeared ahead. Should the deer once reach it and force its way through, even the persevering cheetah would have a difficulty in following. The poor deer, however, worn out with the long chase, and overcome with fear at the indefatigable pursuit of its bloodthirsty foe, leaped headforemost into a thicket, under the belief that it was the commencement of the forest. Its branching horns were caught for a moment, and before it could extricate them, the ferocious cheetah, bounding forward, was upon it, and instantly seizing its neck, pulled it to the ground.The khan and his companions arrived just as the poor creature was at its last gasp, turning up its beautiful eyes as if imploring mercy from its persecutors. The huntsmen soon put it out of its agony, and it was carried off by the bearers; while the panting cheetah allowed its keeper quietly to slip the chain over its head and lead it away to its cage.“Come, we must now show you the way we hunt with our stags,” said the khan.Galloping on, they reached the spot where the trained stags, with their keepers, had been waiting for them. Proceeding to another part of the open forest, the party arrived at a spot towards which a band of beaters had driven a herd of deer. Here the animals stood grazing, protected by their watchful guardians, the most warlike and powerful of their males. They could be seen in the far distance. The tame deer were now set at liberty, and advanced at a gentle trot. The males in charge of the herd immediately advanced to meet them. At first they seemed to doubt whether the strange ones came as friends or foes. But the matter was soon settled. The two parties were quickly engaged in a fierce contest, the wild animals rushing forward with great fury, meeting the tame ones—antlers to antlers, and heads to heads. The latter, formidable-looking animals, stood generally on the defensive, each being engaged with a wild adversary, not mimicking war, but fighting desperately. As the hunting party advanced, the herd, catching sight of them, took to flight, but the combatants were too furiously engaged to observe the spectators of the fight. They saw before them only their adversaries, and did not even remark the party of native huntsmen on foot, who, stealing round to their rear, got between them and the forest. Concealing themselves, they advanced stealthily towards the combatants, with long knives gleaming in their hands. Had any one of the wild stags retreated and observed them, they would have been in imminent danger, but there was little fear of that. Getting up close behind the still fighting wild deer, with one stroke of their weapons they hamstrung the brave creatures. Having performed this deed, they hurried away; and the latter, pressed by their adversaries, fell to the ground, unable to move.The keepers now called off the tame deer, who immediately obeyed, without attempting to follow up their victory. Many of them bore evidence of the severity of the contest by their gored chests, from which the blood was streaming. They seemed to disregard their wounds, however, as if proud of their success, and capered about joyously, tossing their antlers. Meanwhile the huntsmen approached and finished the butchery they had commenced, by cutting the throats of the noble stags, as they helplessly lay in various attitudes on the sward, looking up at their conquerors with those large black eyes of theirs in a way which seemed to ask how human beings could be guilty of such cruelty.“But how do your people manage to catch and tame the deer which have just so well played their part?” asked Captain Burnett of the khan.“I will show you,” he answered. “We have still time, for this forest abounds in deer, and the hunters are ready.”Riding along the edge of the forest, they came to another open space, followed by the least injured tame deer, led by their keepers, who had been joined by a party of men carrying some large nets. Before long they came in sight of another herd; when the same scene as before was enacted. The tame deer advanced, and were met by an equal number of wild animals, with whom they were soon engaged in a desperate combat,—the well-trained and sagacious decoys slowly retreating, facing their foes, and keeping them engaged, as a skilful swordsman does his adversary, while he endeavours to make him lose his temper. The clash of their branching antlers was clearly heard as the animals fenced furiously at each other. While they were thus hotly engaged, the net-bearers crept round—each net borne by two men—till they got in the rear of the wild stags. They then cautiously approached; and their object was now evident. It was to throw the nets over the heads of the wild deer. This was no easy task. They might either catch the antlers of the tame animals, or might fail to cast the nets over those of the wild ones; in which case they ran the risk of being gored by the latter turning on them.The first two men succeeded in throwing their net over one of the stags; its tame opponent, at a signal which it understood, springing back at the proper moment, when the men, dragging with all their might, brought their captive to the ground.The next two men were not so fortunate. The wild stag, seeing what was taking place, wheeled suddenly round, and catching sight of its treacherous foes, rushed at them, with its antlers as sharp as lance points, and literally pinned one of them to the ground, his companion narrowly escaping his fate; then, fleet as the wind, off scampered the deer, and was far away before a shot could be fired at it. Before the hunters could reach the poor man who had been overthrown, he had breathed his last; his death, however, exciting no more sympathy than if a dog had been killed.Four more deer were eventually captured and dragged off by the huntsmen, their limbs and heads completely enveloped in the nets. Then the hunt for the day being over, the party encamped, tents having been brought from Allahapoor for their convenience; and the next day they returned to the city.“And how did you enjoy the sport?” asked the rajah, when Reginald and his friend again had the honour of an audience.“Very well indeed,” was the answer.“Then I will enable you to have some more,” said the rajah. “I intend to lead an expedition that will shortly set out from hence. It will afford you better sport, for we shall have two-footed instead of four-footed beasts to contend with. Some hill tribes to the north have dared to come down and plunder and kill my people in the plain, and they must be punished at all hazards. I shall be glad of your advice and assistance, for you Englishmen take naturally to fighting, whether you have been bred to it or not.”Reginald and Burnett thanked the rajah for the compliment he had paid them, but gave no promise. However, they discussed the subject afterwards in their own room, Dick Thuddichum being present.“I think it will be wise to go,” observed Captain Burnett. “We shall thus have an opportunity of becoming better acquainted with the rajah, and ingratiating ourselves, than we can here; and you will thus, on our return, more easily obtain the secret the rajah possesses.”“Dick, are you inclined to come and help the rajah to fight these savage mountaineers?” asked Reginald.“I should think so! Wherever your honour goes, I am ready to follow,” answered Dick.“Well, then, Burnett, let us settle it. We will tell the rajah at once that we are ready to help him to bring his rebellious subjects into order.”The rajah was highly pleased. “If we succeed, you shall both be made great khans, and become the possessors of untold wealth; that I promise you!” he exclaimed.The next day the army was on its march, the fighting-men scarcely so numerous as the camp-followers. The first were fierce-looking fellows,—partly cavalry and partly infantry. The cavalry were richly accoutred; the officers in gorgeous uniforms, with spears, carbines, and curved swords with jewelled hilts rattling by their sides. The foot-soldiers had more of a fighting look, with their shields and matchlocks. Then came elephants, carrying gaily-ornamented howdahs; camels—some for riding and others employed as beasts of burden—and horses innumerable; palanquins, conveying some of the female members of the rajah’s family, without whom the old chief never moved from home,—the whole train forming an immense line of a mile or more in length. Burnett and Reginald, as they surveyed it, could not help thinking that an active foe might manage to get in the rear and plunder them before the fighting-men could arrive for their defence.The villagers, as the troops marched through the country, were thrown into the greatest consternation; the soldiers, without ceremony, taking whatever they wanted, and maltreating those who resisted them. The villagers were also compelled to turn out and make the roads practicable, or to cut new ones, to enable the army to advance. Men and women were all set to work; the only pay they received being abuse and punishment when they were unable to accomplish their tasks as rapidly as the rajah desired.The camp at night occupied a considerable extent of country; and as the act of encamping occupied some time, a halt was called an hour or more before sunset. The rajah’s tent was pitched in the neighbourhood of an immense banyan-tree; those of his chief officers and attendants being placed, without much order, around it. Among these, one was appropriated for the use of Reginald and his friend. As they lay stretched at their length in the tent, smoking their hookahs, they could not fail to be struck by the picturesqueness of the curious scene. Near them lay the camels, chewing the cud in silence, and gracefully moving their bending necks as they brought up the balls of food into their mouths. The horses, picketed here and there, cropped their evening meal; while the elephants stood silently at a distance, occasionally moving their long trunks, or flapping their ears. The cries of the birds and the screams of the monkeys, as they composed themselves for the night, came forth from the neighbouring forest; while, at a distance, the devout Mussulmans were engaged in the muggreet, or evening prayer, as they knelt on their little mats, and bowed their heads to kiss the ground. Richly-dressed officers moved about amid the tents, and scantily-clothed warriors reclined in groups in all directions. The most actively engaged persons were the cooks, who were preparing the evening meal for their masters; the attendants standing ready to convey it to them as soon as it should be prepared. The setting sun, casting his lurid beams across the landscape, lighted up the figures of men and animals, and the tents and trees, with a golden hue.Reginald had brought Faithful; who, indeed, would not have consented to have been left behind, and who now kept so strict a watch in his tent, that neither robber nor assassin would have ventured to enter it.The only person of any consequence in the rajah’s household who had not come was Khan Cochût. He had no fancy for encountering the dangers of war; and though the rajah had commanded his attendance, he excused himself on the plea of severe illness.Again the troops moved on, and constant scenes of violence and cruelty were practised. The country became wilder as they advanced towards the mountains. There was no lack of inhabitants, and they were everywhere summoned from their homes to labour in the rajah’s service. The rajah during part of the day rode on an elephant; but he generally mounted his horse after midday, and desired the two Englishmen to ride by his side. They had thus many opportunities of conversing with him. Captain Burnett endeavoured to draw from him his plan of the campaign. It was a very simple one. He intended to march on till he reached the territory of the rebels; and his purpose then was to burn the villages, and to cut off the heads of any of the rebels he could catch.“It will frighten the rest, who will soon come to terms, and agree to pay any tribute I may demand,” observed the rajah.“But suppose, your highness, that the enemy were to evade us till they can gather in sufficient force to afford them good hopes of success, how do you then propose dealing with them?” asked Burnett.“They will not dare to attack us,” answered the rajah, stroking his beard. “They are sure to run away as we advance.”Of this, however, Burnett, who had been making inquiries about the character of the rebels from those who had been among them, was not so certain. It seemed to him much more likely that, though armed only with bows, arrows, swords, and spears, they would lie in ambush on the sides of several narrow gorges through which the army had to pass, whence they could take good aim with their unerring bows, and also send down large fragments of rock on the heads of their invaders. He accordingly urged the rajah to leave the women and baggage encamped in a secure position outside the mountains, while the troops made their way through the more difficult country.“You Englishmen are always wise,” observed the rajah, “and I will seriously consider your advice.”The troops advanced, plundering their friends as if they had been enemies, in their line of march. The fields were trodden down and their produce carried off. The sugar-canes were looted by elephants and camp-followers; the well-ropes stolen to serve as drag-ropes; and if any of the country-people attempted to defend their property, they were cruelly ill-treated. The force increased, too, as they advanced. The horse-keepers’ wives with their children joined them, not knowing where else to go. Numbers of milk-women came in carrying the milk on their heads to supply the men, and after the camp was pitched their voices were heard crying out in all directions, “doodh.” Dogs in vast numbers, with or without owners, joined the camp, snarling and barking all night long; while packs of jackals and hyaenas followed in their track, commencing their hideous concert soon after sunset, and never ceasing till near daylight, while they stole round the confines of the camp to pick up any garbage they could find.Frequently in the daytime an antelope or a hare would be started, when horse and foot-soldiers and camp-followers would give chase, with the pariah dogs of all sizes and colours dodging amid the carts, elephants, and camels, frequently joined by some horses which would break loose,—creating a hubbub and confusion during which an enemy would have had a fine opportunity of surprising the camp before the fighting-men could fall in to repel him.At length the mountains appeared in sight, and the rajah, following Captain Burnett’s advice, pitched his camp, which was surrounded by a stockade. Here the women and children, and most of the camp-followers, were left, with a small body of troops to guard them. The fighting forces, marshalled in somewhat better order than before, now advanced among the hills. The mountaineers, probably having notice of their approach, kept out of the way, and not an enemy was to be seen. A few villages, scattered here and there on the heights, were apparently deserted. Those which could be easily reached were burned, but no prisoners were taken.Burnett again warned the old rajah that he was very likely to be led into an ambush, and urged him to send out scouts on either flank to examine the country. They went, but did not return, and it was doubtful whether they had deserted or had been cut to pieces by the mountaineers; the latter being most probably the case.The army encamped at night in the most open spot they could find, where they were less likely to be surprised than in the valleys, several of which they had passed through. At length, as day was declining, and just as the van of the army was passing over an extremely rocky country, with rugged hills and masses of brushwood growing on them, suddenly the bare spots on every height around were seen covered with warriors armed with bows, javelins, and spears.The next instant showers of arrows came flying into the midst of the troops, and javelins were darted by the enemy at those nearest them. Calling a halt, the Khan Mukund Bhim, who had been galloping on in advance, turned back, and ordered his men to open fire on their assailants. But no sooner did the nimble-footed enemy find the bullets reaching them than they vanished behind cover, and in another minute the whole valley in which the contest was lately raging appeared open to the advance of the invading forces.The rajah, however, by the advice of Captain Burnett, halted his army in the valley they now occupied. Retreat was not to be thought of; while to advance, with an active enemy on either side, was dangerous in the extreme. A vigilant watch was therefore kept during the night, and the mountaineers, finding their invaders on the alert, did not venture to attack them.Next morning the march was resumed. The country ahead, however, soon became more difficult than any they had yet passed through. Orders were therefore given to scale the heights, and the lightly-clad sepoys quickly scrambled up them; but when they reached the summits, no enemies were to be seen. The heights being occupied, the cavalry once more advanced; the foot-soldiers, as they dashed forward, taking possession of each commanding height. A large force was now seen ahead, perched on an apparently inaccessible hill, with a village on the summit, and perpendicular cliffs from eighty to a hundred feet in height surrounding it. The only practicable path passed below this height; while posted on the top and on every projecting crag were the native warriors, prepared to dispute the advance of their invaders.The rajah’s rage at the audacity of the rebels, as he called them, was excessive. He insisted that the heights should be stormed, and the village and all the inhabitants destroyed. Captain Burnett advised him not to make the attempt, but rather to starve out the garrison, or to try and bring them to terms by other means. He would not listen to reason, however, but insisted that the place should be taken as he proposed. As the cavalry could be of no service, the fighting fell upon the foot-soldiers,—who, in a very dashing way, attempted to climb up the heights, but were hurled down again by the enemy from above with arrows, javelins, and huge stones. Again and again they made the attempt,—each time the greater number who were climbing up being destroyed, till the foot of the hill and every ledge wide enough to form a resting-place were strewn with the dead and the dying. The old rajah stormed and swore, and ordered some of the cavalry to dismount and try if they could not do better. Burnett, on hearing the command, assured the rajah that they would certainly be destroyed as easily as the infantry, and suggested that a party should be sent round to take the fort in the rear.“If you will lead it, I will consent,” said the rajah; and Burnett consented on the condition that the lives of the brave villagers might be spared should they yield.Reginald wished to accompany his friend, but the rajah begged him to remain by his side. “I want your advice and assistance. I much suspect the faithfulness of some of my officers; for they, finding things going against us, may kill me: they have attempted it once before.”Reginald accordingly agreed to remain; while Burnett, at the head of three hundred horsemen, set off to make a wide circuit round the hills, in the hope of reaching the rear of the fort. In the meantime the attack in front was carried on with the same want of success as before, resulting only in the destruction of still more of the rajah’s troops.Night was approaching, and at length the attempt was abandoned. The order was given to encamp in the only spot where this could be done with any degree of safety. A small tent had been brought for the rajah, who invited Reginald, attended by Faithful and Dick Thuddichum, to remain with him. The rest of the force, officers as well as men, lay down with their horses picketed near them. But the night air in that elevated region was very cold, and all complained greatly. The rajah’s tent had been fixed amid the ruins of a small temple, built by the former possessors of the country, as the present inhabitants had neither temples nor priests. Sentinels were posted round the camp; but they were ill-fitted for the duty, having been engaged during the whole day in attempting to storm the fort, while they were suffering, moreover, from the cold. The rest of the army lay down to sleep. Reginald, with Faithful, occupied the further end of the tent.It wanted an hour or two to dawn, when Reginald, he knew not from what cause, awoke. As he looked up, for a moment forgetting where he was, he saw, by the light of a lamp burning in the centre of the tent, the curtain at the entrance noiselessly drawn aside, and three men appear, who, by their dresses, he knew were persons of rank, each holding a drawn sword in his hand. What their intention was, he had no doubt; and shouting to awake the rajah, he sprang to his feet, grasping his own sword and pistols. His shouts awakened Dick Thuddichum, who, sailor-like, was asleep with one eye open just outside the tent. Faithful, at the same time, started to her feet, and at a glance took in the situation of affairs. The assassins, if such they were, seemed not to have known of her presence. Before the rajah could rise and grasp his scimitar, however, the leading assassin was close upon him, about to plunge his weapon in his breast,—when Faithful, bounding across the tent, grasped the traitor in her huge jaws. Reginald attacked the second man, who was advancing towards him; while Dick Thuddichum, with a heavy sword which he called his “cutlash,” set upon the third. So staggered were the assassins by the unexpected resistance they met with, and so horrified at the fate of their companion, that they were quite unable, though redoubtable swordsmen, effectually to defend themselves. Faithful sprang by them, carrying the body of their leader in her huge jaws up the steps of the temple; while Reginald shot his opponent, and Dick brought the man with whom he was engaged to the ground with a blow of his weapon. At the same moment a loud uproar was heard from the side of the camp nearest the heights. Shouts and shrieks, the rattle of firearms and the clash of steel, reached their ears; while the cry arose, “The enemy are upon us! The enemy are coming down in countless numbers!—to horse! To horse!” A sudden panic seized the troops. The foot-soldiers, who were bivouacked, suddenly set upon before they could fall into order to repel the attack, were overpowered by the hardy mountaineers, who rushed in among them with their long daggers, and killed all they encountered. The rajah’s bodyguard, who had been won over by the traitors, finding those who had seduced them killed, took to flight; while most of the remainder, not understanding what had happened, followed their example.Fortunately, the rajah’s horse was picketed near at hand. Reginald advised him to mount, and offered to try and rally the fugitives. He and Dick threw themselves on their horses; but he shouted in vain to the horsemen to wheel round and attack the foe. He could dimly distinguish the forms of the combatants in the valley below, where it was evident that a desperate struggle was going on. Reginald now called Faithful to his side to assist him in case of emergency. Though she seemed very unwilling to quit her victim, she obeyed him, and came bounding along, still carrying in her jaws the body of the khan. She dropped it, however, at his command, and trotted on in her usual place by his side. By this time some twenty or thirty troopers had collected around their chief; but the rest, as soon as they could find their steeds and mount, galloped off up the valley. Reginald, burning with indignation at the cowardly way in which the troops had deserted the rajah, offered to lead the small body which remained, feeling confident that by charging suddenly into the midst of the mountaineers he could put them to flight.“They will believe, as they see us coming, that the rest of the cavalry are following, and will not dare to stand the charge,” he exclaimed.The rajah, however, hesitated. “It would be useless,” he answered. “At the return of day they would discover our scanty forces and hem us in. The only chance we have to save our lives is to retreat; and we can return again before long and avenge our defeat.”Reginald did his best to restrain his feelings, but he was confident that, had his plan been followed, it would have been successful. While they were yet speaking, a sepoy without his musket came rushing up the hill, shouting out—“All have been cut to pieces!”Two or three others were behind him, hotly pursued by a band of the mountaineers, who were quickly upon them, when they were cut down without mercy.Without attempting to rescue the poor fellow who first escaped, the rajah wheeled round his horse, and ordering his troopers to follow, galloped off along the side of the hill in the direction the rest of the cavalry had taken. The ground, however, was rough in the extreme, and in the darkness of night they could with difficulty guide their horses amid the rocks. Reginald, though feeling no small amount of indignation at the cowardly conduct of the troops, saw that at present it would be useless to urge the rajah to turn and attack the enemy. He hoped, however, that they should soon overtake the rest of the cavalry, who would probably, he thought, halt when they found that they were not pursued, and, it might be, feeling ashamed of their cowardice, return to ascertain what had become of their chief.Just as the grey light of morning began to penetrate the valley, Reginald, who was riding by the side of the rajah, caught sight of the rear of the fugitives at some distance ahead. The cowardly troopers were soon overtaken, for their horses were blown from their rapid gallop over the rough and hilly ground.The rajah, concealing his rage, inquired why they had deserted him.“We believed that you and all who remained behind were destroyed, and that our only chance of saving our lives and revenging your death was to fly,” answered several officers whom the rajah addressed, speaking all together that they might support each other.The rajah well knew that their object in going off was to leave him and his faithful guards to be cut to pieces; but still concealing his real feelings, he observed with perfect calmness—“You might have ascertained the fact before deserting me; but now you see that I have escaped, we will go back and punish the rebels. The brave sepoys have undoubtedly been destroyed to a man; but that should make us still more eager to avenge their death. And what are you worth, if you cannot do so with your carbines and sharp tulwars? Come on, then, at once! We may take the foe by surprise while engaged in plundering the dead.”The rajah’s address seemed to be producing some effect. Those who had not joined the traitor khans flourished their swords aloft, and swore that they would follow the rajah to death or victory; while the mutineers, unwilling to venture through the defiles alone, saw that their wisest course was to assume a willingness to obey, and wait for another opportunity of escaping. The horses of all the party were, however, too much fatigued to attempt moving without some rest and food, while they themselves were also in want of refreshment. A stream near at hand enabled them to obtain water, while each trooper carried provisions for himself and horse. They accordingly dismounted, and having watered their horses at the stream, sat down on the ground to discuss their rice and ghee,—the rajah and his chief officers partaking of the same simple fare as the men. They were thus employed—some lying at their length on the sward, others sitting cross-legged, others warming their food over numerous little fires which they had kindled from the dried branches cut from the brushwood around, the horses picketed on the spots where grass was most abundant—when Reginald, who was endeavouring to swallow the unpalatable mess presented to him by the rajah, caught sight of a figure on one of the neighbouring heights. It was but for a moment, as the man again concealed himself behind a rock. He mentioned the circumstance to the rajah, but that personage seemed to think he must have been mistaken.“I strongly advise, however, that the men should be ordered to mount forthwith,” said Reginald. “Should the mountaineers have followed our track, they may be in our midst before the men have time to stand to their arms or reach their horses; and we may be cut to pieces as the infantry have been.”But the rajah was still unconvinced. “Let the men finish their meal,” he said; “and then, if the rebels come on, we will treat them as they have treated our foot-soldiers.”A few minutes more passed by, during which Reginald had been watching the heights, feeling certain that he had not been mistaken. Suddenly he exclaimed, “See, Rajah!—I warned you.”“To horse! To horse!” shouted the rajah, springing on his steed, which his syce had brought him.Reginald followed his example,—as, of course, did Dick. He was not a moment too soon, for, the instant he had spoken, from behind every bush, tree, and rock on the surrounding heights appeared the dark forms of a host of warriors. Showers of arrows now began to fly into the midst of the camp; while through the ravine which led directly down towards the plateau on which they had halted came a compact body armed with tulwars and shields. The troopers rushed to their steeds, mounting in hot haste, for in another minute the furious savages would be among them. The rajah and his guards, who gathered round him as they could throw themselves on their horses, dashed on; while the remainder followed, galloping helter-skelter, the officers and men mingled together, each eager to get ahead. Some of the horses getting loose, they were left to the mercy of the enemy; as were also the troopers who were unable to mount before the enemy were upon them. Reginald, his cheek burning with shame at the disgraceful panic which had seized his companions, galloped on by the side of the rajah, who refused to halt and attempt to beat back the foe, in spite of all that he could urge. Dick and Faithful kept close by him. “Bless my heart!” exclaimed the former, “I don’t like this sort of fun. Why, if we were just to turn round and bear down on the enemy, we might scatter them like the wind! The faster we run, the faster they will come after us.”The flight continued; but so active were the mountaineers, that they kept close to the heels of the fugitives, piercing many a warrior through the back with their far-flying arrows. Reginald mentally resolved never again to accompany an Eastern prince in an attempt to punish his rebellious subjects.At length more level ground appeared ahead, and the horsemen began to distance their pursuers. But there were still some dangerous defiles to be passed; and Reginald remembered that the path by which they had come had many twists and turns, and that too probably the mountaineers would make their way by short cuts through the hills, and again present themselves on the inaccessible heights on either side of the passes.The rajah and his horsemen at length of necessity pulled rein, to breathe their panting steeds; and information having been passed along from the rear that the enemy were no longer in pursuit, they now rode on more leisurely, talking loudly of coming back with an overwhelming force to annihilate the audacious rebels. Ere long, however, Reginald’s worst apprehensions were realised. Before them appeared a narrow valley, with gorges running into it on either side. The rajah, who had recovered his presence of mind, here ordered a halt, and directed his men to see that their saddle-girths were tight and their arms loaded.“We must pass through yonder valley as fast as our horses’ feet can touch the ground,” he exclaimed. “Forward!”Scarcely had he spoken, and made his horse bound onward, when the hilltops were seen bristling with spears, and hundreds of dark warriors, with bows and arrows or javelins in hand, appeared ready to rush down upon the invaders of their territory. The rajah now hesitated. Reginald advised him to dash on at once; to remain where they were would only encourage the foe, and the troopers with their firearms might clear the heights, and most, if not all, of their party might escape. But the rajah did not follow his advice. Then the mountaineers, instead of wisely remaining in an impregnable position, were seen descending the heights, believing from their previous success that they might destroy the rajah and his whole force. A few only remained on the summit of the precipice. Down came from either side a thick stream of savage warriors, throwing themselves upon the horsemen; and again and again they were driven back. The old rajah showed himself brave enough now, fighting as fiercely as any of his guard. Reginald and Dick did their best, too; while Faithful sprang from side to side, bringing many a mountaineer to the ground. Still, several horsemen had fallen; and numbers coming on, the party were completely hemmed in, a dense mass collected in front precluding all possibility of escape, unless a way could be cut through them; while the troopers who fell were immediately hacked to pieces by their enraged foes.It was now too late for Reginald to mourn his folly in having accompanied the old chief. Brave as he was, he could not help believing that he and all with him would be cut to pieces. Still, a way might be forced through the foe; so, shouting to those in the rear, he ordered them to close up. “Now, Rajah,” he exclaimed, “we must let nothing stop us. Shout to your people to follow, and dash on!”The word was given, but so dense was the mass in front that success appeared hopeless. Just then a shout was heard from several of the troopers, “See! See! Our friends are coming!” At the same moment Reginald caught sight of a large body of horsemen, whom he at once recognised as those who had accompanied Captain Burnett, galloping down the ravine on the left. From the heights above, they had apparently observed the perilous position of their friends; and on they came like an avalanche, at headlong speed, throwing themselves impetuously on the mountaineers, who gave way as the surface of the ocean recedes before the bows of a gallant ship impelled by the gale. Before they could regain the heights, both parties of cavalry had united and cut their way through them, leaving, however, many of their number dead on the field. There was no thought of pulling rein now. Captain Burnett reported that nearly a third of his men had separated in one of the defiles, with two or three officers; but whether they had escaped from among the mountains by a different route to that which he had taken, or been cut off by the foe, he was unable to ascertain. He hoped, however, that they had escaped, and would before long rejoin the main body.On galloped the horsemen, without even casting a look behind, till, as the shades of evening were gathering amid the mountains, they caught sight of the still sunny plain ahead. Onward they dashed; and at length, men and horses almost exhausted, they halted, as darkness came on, by the side of a calm lake, where they could bivouac without fear of being attacked by the mountaineers,—who would, they were very sure, not venture to follow them into the plain.

Reginald had thrown himself on his couch without undressing, no bedclothes having been provided; his baggage, not very extensive, was placed in one corner of the room. His portmanteau contained some important documents, which he wished no eye but his own to scan till the time for producing them had arrived. Faithful lay down before him much like a dog, with her eyes half open. He had been for some time asleep when he was awakened by a low growl, and on looking up he saw Faithful on the point of rising, her eyes glaring towards the further end of the room. A curtain which served instead of a door was drawn aside, and by the faint light of a lamp, almost burned out, he observed a person steal into the room with a dagger in his hand. The intruder crept along close to the wall, apparently not observing the tigress; when she rose to her feet, and would in another instant have sprung upon him, had not he, on seeing her, bounded back through the doorway far more quickly than he had entered.

Reginald, unwilling to create a disturbance, called Faithful back. She obeyed instantly, and again lay down by his side. The intention of the midnight intruder was apparently either to murder him or to pilfer his baggage, though the dagger looked very suspicious.

“Good Faithful, you behaved admirably,” said Reginald, patting his favourite’s head. “I feel very sure that you will watch over me, so I will once more try to sleep.”

Saying this, he again lay down, confident that, whatever had been the stranger’s intention, he was not likely to repeat the attempt.

Captain Burnett, to whom he narrated the next morning what had occurred, declared that no one had entered his room. They agreed, however, to keep watch the next night, in order to try and catch the intruder.

“If we can catch the fellow, whoever he is, we must carry him before the rajah,” observed Burnett. “And I must warn you also, Reginald, that we must be careful what we eat; these natives are adepts in poisoning, and would not scruple to exert that talent if they considered it convenient.”

A handsome breakfast was served them, with all sorts of Oriental delicacies; and during the repast, at which several slaves attended, Captain Burnett described in Hindostanee, as if speaking to Reginald, a wonderful rod he possessed, which had the property of discovering poison—as also the poisoner, by whirling itself about as soon as he appeared, and pointing towards him. He spoke in a natural, offhand manner, as if there was nothing unusual in what he was saying.

Soon after the repast they were summoned into the presence of the rajah, who told them that one of his principal officers would take them on a hunting expedition, if they wished to see the style of sporting generally followed in his province. They of course expressed their gratitude, and at once accepted the offer.

“You may go this very day, as the khan is about to set out,” said the rajah. “For myself, I am getting too old to engage in such sports for amusement. I may have ere long to lead my troops to battle; but that is a very different affair. Horses are already prepared for you.”

In a few minutes Reginald and his friend found themselves in the midst of a large party of Oriental cavaliers in gay costumes, mounted on richly-caparisoned steeds, headed by the Khan Mukund Bhim, who was a remarkably good horseman. Off they set at a rate which, in little more than an hour, carried them to a distance of twelve miles or more from the city. They now entered a wild part of the country, on the borders of a forest, where a band of huntsmen, with several cheetahs and eight or ten trained stags, had been appointed to meet them.

“We will show you some fine sport presently,” said the khan; and after allowing their horses a little rest, they again set forward. A party of bearers followed, carrying in a cage a cheetah or hunting leopard, an animal which may be described as in size and shape between the hound and the leopard. Its body is slenderer and more elevated than that of the latter animal, while it does not possess the graceful form of the common leopard; and its head, which is smaller, is peculiarly ugly; its tail is like that of a cat; and its body seems formed more for strong muscular exertion than for active and long-continued speed. Though possessing the sagacity and fidelity of the dog, it is undoubtedly feline in its habits. Its general colour is a bright yellowish-brown, lighter on the sides, and nearly white beneath, marked with numerous small black spots all over, which are continued along the tail so as to appear like rings; its ears are short and rounded, while from each eye a blackish mark runs down to the corners of the mouth, the extremity of the nose being black. The fur, instead of possessing that sleekness which distinguishes the feline race, is peculiarly crisp.

As the party neared the spot where it was expected that the deer would be found, the cheetah was taken out of its cage and led forward by a keeper with a chain, just as a large dog would be led—its head, of course, being covered. When led without any such protection, it is very difficult to manage. Should it scent a trail upon the ground, it begins to throw its head aloft and peer about. To restore its tranquillity, the keeper places a cocoanut shell sprinkled on the inside with salt to the animal’s nose. The cheetah licks the salt, and losing the scent forgets the object which attracted its attention. As soon as it again exhibits signs of excitement, the cocoanut shell is applied to its nose, and it again becomes manageable.

At length several deer appeared at a short distance, on some marshy ground, with bushes intervening. The khan gave a signal to the keeper, who slipped the leash, and the cheetah began to steal cautiously towards the herd, taking advantage of the bushes and high grass to conceal itself. On it went like a cat, till it got within a short distance of the deer. They at length discovered its approach, and went bounding forward over everything that impeded their progress, jumping, running, and wading through the marsh with frantic energy. The cheetah’s blood was up. It singled out one of the animals, and away it went, bounding catlike over the bushes; plunging into the morass, though hating water, rather than allow its prey to escape. Off started the hunting party, now keeping their eyes on the flying deer, now upon the persevering cheetah. It was no easy task, however, to keep the chase in sight, as they scampered over the marsh and thick grass. Indeed, they put the horsemanship of all the party to the test. While the rest of the deer escaped on either side, the one the cheetah had fixed on had kept a straight course, now by the side of a nullah, now over the wiry grass, now through thick bushes. The cheetah meanwhile skimmed over the surface of the ground, as if requiring no rest for its feet. The forest appeared ahead. Should the deer once reach it and force its way through, even the persevering cheetah would have a difficulty in following. The poor deer, however, worn out with the long chase, and overcome with fear at the indefatigable pursuit of its bloodthirsty foe, leaped headforemost into a thicket, under the belief that it was the commencement of the forest. Its branching horns were caught for a moment, and before it could extricate them, the ferocious cheetah, bounding forward, was upon it, and instantly seizing its neck, pulled it to the ground.

The khan and his companions arrived just as the poor creature was at its last gasp, turning up its beautiful eyes as if imploring mercy from its persecutors. The huntsmen soon put it out of its agony, and it was carried off by the bearers; while the panting cheetah allowed its keeper quietly to slip the chain over its head and lead it away to its cage.

“Come, we must now show you the way we hunt with our stags,” said the khan.

Galloping on, they reached the spot where the trained stags, with their keepers, had been waiting for them. Proceeding to another part of the open forest, the party arrived at a spot towards which a band of beaters had driven a herd of deer. Here the animals stood grazing, protected by their watchful guardians, the most warlike and powerful of their males. They could be seen in the far distance. The tame deer were now set at liberty, and advanced at a gentle trot. The males in charge of the herd immediately advanced to meet them. At first they seemed to doubt whether the strange ones came as friends or foes. But the matter was soon settled. The two parties were quickly engaged in a fierce contest, the wild animals rushing forward with great fury, meeting the tame ones—antlers to antlers, and heads to heads. The latter, formidable-looking animals, stood generally on the defensive, each being engaged with a wild adversary, not mimicking war, but fighting desperately. As the hunting party advanced, the herd, catching sight of them, took to flight, but the combatants were too furiously engaged to observe the spectators of the fight. They saw before them only their adversaries, and did not even remark the party of native huntsmen on foot, who, stealing round to their rear, got between them and the forest. Concealing themselves, they advanced stealthily towards the combatants, with long knives gleaming in their hands. Had any one of the wild stags retreated and observed them, they would have been in imminent danger, but there was little fear of that. Getting up close behind the still fighting wild deer, with one stroke of their weapons they hamstrung the brave creatures. Having performed this deed, they hurried away; and the latter, pressed by their adversaries, fell to the ground, unable to move.

The keepers now called off the tame deer, who immediately obeyed, without attempting to follow up their victory. Many of them bore evidence of the severity of the contest by their gored chests, from which the blood was streaming. They seemed to disregard their wounds, however, as if proud of their success, and capered about joyously, tossing their antlers. Meanwhile the huntsmen approached and finished the butchery they had commenced, by cutting the throats of the noble stags, as they helplessly lay in various attitudes on the sward, looking up at their conquerors with those large black eyes of theirs in a way which seemed to ask how human beings could be guilty of such cruelty.

“But how do your people manage to catch and tame the deer which have just so well played their part?” asked Captain Burnett of the khan.

“I will show you,” he answered. “We have still time, for this forest abounds in deer, and the hunters are ready.”

Riding along the edge of the forest, they came to another open space, followed by the least injured tame deer, led by their keepers, who had been joined by a party of men carrying some large nets. Before long they came in sight of another herd; when the same scene as before was enacted. The tame deer advanced, and were met by an equal number of wild animals, with whom they were soon engaged in a desperate combat,—the well-trained and sagacious decoys slowly retreating, facing their foes, and keeping them engaged, as a skilful swordsman does his adversary, while he endeavours to make him lose his temper. The clash of their branching antlers was clearly heard as the animals fenced furiously at each other. While they were thus hotly engaged, the net-bearers crept round—each net borne by two men—till they got in the rear of the wild stags. They then cautiously approached; and their object was now evident. It was to throw the nets over the heads of the wild deer. This was no easy task. They might either catch the antlers of the tame animals, or might fail to cast the nets over those of the wild ones; in which case they ran the risk of being gored by the latter turning on them.

The first two men succeeded in throwing their net over one of the stags; its tame opponent, at a signal which it understood, springing back at the proper moment, when the men, dragging with all their might, brought their captive to the ground.

The next two men were not so fortunate. The wild stag, seeing what was taking place, wheeled suddenly round, and catching sight of its treacherous foes, rushed at them, with its antlers as sharp as lance points, and literally pinned one of them to the ground, his companion narrowly escaping his fate; then, fleet as the wind, off scampered the deer, and was far away before a shot could be fired at it. Before the hunters could reach the poor man who had been overthrown, he had breathed his last; his death, however, exciting no more sympathy than if a dog had been killed.

Four more deer were eventually captured and dragged off by the huntsmen, their limbs and heads completely enveloped in the nets. Then the hunt for the day being over, the party encamped, tents having been brought from Allahapoor for their convenience; and the next day they returned to the city.

“And how did you enjoy the sport?” asked the rajah, when Reginald and his friend again had the honour of an audience.

“Very well indeed,” was the answer.

“Then I will enable you to have some more,” said the rajah. “I intend to lead an expedition that will shortly set out from hence. It will afford you better sport, for we shall have two-footed instead of four-footed beasts to contend with. Some hill tribes to the north have dared to come down and plunder and kill my people in the plain, and they must be punished at all hazards. I shall be glad of your advice and assistance, for you Englishmen take naturally to fighting, whether you have been bred to it or not.”

Reginald and Burnett thanked the rajah for the compliment he had paid them, but gave no promise. However, they discussed the subject afterwards in their own room, Dick Thuddichum being present.

“I think it will be wise to go,” observed Captain Burnett. “We shall thus have an opportunity of becoming better acquainted with the rajah, and ingratiating ourselves, than we can here; and you will thus, on our return, more easily obtain the secret the rajah possesses.”

“Dick, are you inclined to come and help the rajah to fight these savage mountaineers?” asked Reginald.

“I should think so! Wherever your honour goes, I am ready to follow,” answered Dick.

“Well, then, Burnett, let us settle it. We will tell the rajah at once that we are ready to help him to bring his rebellious subjects into order.”

The rajah was highly pleased. “If we succeed, you shall both be made great khans, and become the possessors of untold wealth; that I promise you!” he exclaimed.

The next day the army was on its march, the fighting-men scarcely so numerous as the camp-followers. The first were fierce-looking fellows,—partly cavalry and partly infantry. The cavalry were richly accoutred; the officers in gorgeous uniforms, with spears, carbines, and curved swords with jewelled hilts rattling by their sides. The foot-soldiers had more of a fighting look, with their shields and matchlocks. Then came elephants, carrying gaily-ornamented howdahs; camels—some for riding and others employed as beasts of burden—and horses innumerable; palanquins, conveying some of the female members of the rajah’s family, without whom the old chief never moved from home,—the whole train forming an immense line of a mile or more in length. Burnett and Reginald, as they surveyed it, could not help thinking that an active foe might manage to get in the rear and plunder them before the fighting-men could arrive for their defence.

The villagers, as the troops marched through the country, were thrown into the greatest consternation; the soldiers, without ceremony, taking whatever they wanted, and maltreating those who resisted them. The villagers were also compelled to turn out and make the roads practicable, or to cut new ones, to enable the army to advance. Men and women were all set to work; the only pay they received being abuse and punishment when they were unable to accomplish their tasks as rapidly as the rajah desired.

The camp at night occupied a considerable extent of country; and as the act of encamping occupied some time, a halt was called an hour or more before sunset. The rajah’s tent was pitched in the neighbourhood of an immense banyan-tree; those of his chief officers and attendants being placed, without much order, around it. Among these, one was appropriated for the use of Reginald and his friend. As they lay stretched at their length in the tent, smoking their hookahs, they could not fail to be struck by the picturesqueness of the curious scene. Near them lay the camels, chewing the cud in silence, and gracefully moving their bending necks as they brought up the balls of food into their mouths. The horses, picketed here and there, cropped their evening meal; while the elephants stood silently at a distance, occasionally moving their long trunks, or flapping their ears. The cries of the birds and the screams of the monkeys, as they composed themselves for the night, came forth from the neighbouring forest; while, at a distance, the devout Mussulmans were engaged in the muggreet, or evening prayer, as they knelt on their little mats, and bowed their heads to kiss the ground. Richly-dressed officers moved about amid the tents, and scantily-clothed warriors reclined in groups in all directions. The most actively engaged persons were the cooks, who were preparing the evening meal for their masters; the attendants standing ready to convey it to them as soon as it should be prepared. The setting sun, casting his lurid beams across the landscape, lighted up the figures of men and animals, and the tents and trees, with a golden hue.

Reginald had brought Faithful; who, indeed, would not have consented to have been left behind, and who now kept so strict a watch in his tent, that neither robber nor assassin would have ventured to enter it.

The only person of any consequence in the rajah’s household who had not come was Khan Cochût. He had no fancy for encountering the dangers of war; and though the rajah had commanded his attendance, he excused himself on the plea of severe illness.

Again the troops moved on, and constant scenes of violence and cruelty were practised. The country became wilder as they advanced towards the mountains. There was no lack of inhabitants, and they were everywhere summoned from their homes to labour in the rajah’s service. The rajah during part of the day rode on an elephant; but he generally mounted his horse after midday, and desired the two Englishmen to ride by his side. They had thus many opportunities of conversing with him. Captain Burnett endeavoured to draw from him his plan of the campaign. It was a very simple one. He intended to march on till he reached the territory of the rebels; and his purpose then was to burn the villages, and to cut off the heads of any of the rebels he could catch.

“It will frighten the rest, who will soon come to terms, and agree to pay any tribute I may demand,” observed the rajah.

“But suppose, your highness, that the enemy were to evade us till they can gather in sufficient force to afford them good hopes of success, how do you then propose dealing with them?” asked Burnett.

“They will not dare to attack us,” answered the rajah, stroking his beard. “They are sure to run away as we advance.”

Of this, however, Burnett, who had been making inquiries about the character of the rebels from those who had been among them, was not so certain. It seemed to him much more likely that, though armed only with bows, arrows, swords, and spears, they would lie in ambush on the sides of several narrow gorges through which the army had to pass, whence they could take good aim with their unerring bows, and also send down large fragments of rock on the heads of their invaders. He accordingly urged the rajah to leave the women and baggage encamped in a secure position outside the mountains, while the troops made their way through the more difficult country.

“You Englishmen are always wise,” observed the rajah, “and I will seriously consider your advice.”

The troops advanced, plundering their friends as if they had been enemies, in their line of march. The fields were trodden down and their produce carried off. The sugar-canes were looted by elephants and camp-followers; the well-ropes stolen to serve as drag-ropes; and if any of the country-people attempted to defend their property, they were cruelly ill-treated. The force increased, too, as they advanced. The horse-keepers’ wives with their children joined them, not knowing where else to go. Numbers of milk-women came in carrying the milk on their heads to supply the men, and after the camp was pitched their voices were heard crying out in all directions, “doodh.” Dogs in vast numbers, with or without owners, joined the camp, snarling and barking all night long; while packs of jackals and hyaenas followed in their track, commencing their hideous concert soon after sunset, and never ceasing till near daylight, while they stole round the confines of the camp to pick up any garbage they could find.

Frequently in the daytime an antelope or a hare would be started, when horse and foot-soldiers and camp-followers would give chase, with the pariah dogs of all sizes and colours dodging amid the carts, elephants, and camels, frequently joined by some horses which would break loose,—creating a hubbub and confusion during which an enemy would have had a fine opportunity of surprising the camp before the fighting-men could fall in to repel him.

At length the mountains appeared in sight, and the rajah, following Captain Burnett’s advice, pitched his camp, which was surrounded by a stockade. Here the women and children, and most of the camp-followers, were left, with a small body of troops to guard them. The fighting forces, marshalled in somewhat better order than before, now advanced among the hills. The mountaineers, probably having notice of their approach, kept out of the way, and not an enemy was to be seen. A few villages, scattered here and there on the heights, were apparently deserted. Those which could be easily reached were burned, but no prisoners were taken.

Burnett again warned the old rajah that he was very likely to be led into an ambush, and urged him to send out scouts on either flank to examine the country. They went, but did not return, and it was doubtful whether they had deserted or had been cut to pieces by the mountaineers; the latter being most probably the case.

The army encamped at night in the most open spot they could find, where they were less likely to be surprised than in the valleys, several of which they had passed through. At length, as day was declining, and just as the van of the army was passing over an extremely rocky country, with rugged hills and masses of brushwood growing on them, suddenly the bare spots on every height around were seen covered with warriors armed with bows, javelins, and spears.

The next instant showers of arrows came flying into the midst of the troops, and javelins were darted by the enemy at those nearest them. Calling a halt, the Khan Mukund Bhim, who had been galloping on in advance, turned back, and ordered his men to open fire on their assailants. But no sooner did the nimble-footed enemy find the bullets reaching them than they vanished behind cover, and in another minute the whole valley in which the contest was lately raging appeared open to the advance of the invading forces.

The rajah, however, by the advice of Captain Burnett, halted his army in the valley they now occupied. Retreat was not to be thought of; while to advance, with an active enemy on either side, was dangerous in the extreme. A vigilant watch was therefore kept during the night, and the mountaineers, finding their invaders on the alert, did not venture to attack them.

Next morning the march was resumed. The country ahead, however, soon became more difficult than any they had yet passed through. Orders were therefore given to scale the heights, and the lightly-clad sepoys quickly scrambled up them; but when they reached the summits, no enemies were to be seen. The heights being occupied, the cavalry once more advanced; the foot-soldiers, as they dashed forward, taking possession of each commanding height. A large force was now seen ahead, perched on an apparently inaccessible hill, with a village on the summit, and perpendicular cliffs from eighty to a hundred feet in height surrounding it. The only practicable path passed below this height; while posted on the top and on every projecting crag were the native warriors, prepared to dispute the advance of their invaders.

The rajah’s rage at the audacity of the rebels, as he called them, was excessive. He insisted that the heights should be stormed, and the village and all the inhabitants destroyed. Captain Burnett advised him not to make the attempt, but rather to starve out the garrison, or to try and bring them to terms by other means. He would not listen to reason, however, but insisted that the place should be taken as he proposed. As the cavalry could be of no service, the fighting fell upon the foot-soldiers,—who, in a very dashing way, attempted to climb up the heights, but were hurled down again by the enemy from above with arrows, javelins, and huge stones. Again and again they made the attempt,—each time the greater number who were climbing up being destroyed, till the foot of the hill and every ledge wide enough to form a resting-place were strewn with the dead and the dying. The old rajah stormed and swore, and ordered some of the cavalry to dismount and try if they could not do better. Burnett, on hearing the command, assured the rajah that they would certainly be destroyed as easily as the infantry, and suggested that a party should be sent round to take the fort in the rear.

“If you will lead it, I will consent,” said the rajah; and Burnett consented on the condition that the lives of the brave villagers might be spared should they yield.

Reginald wished to accompany his friend, but the rajah begged him to remain by his side. “I want your advice and assistance. I much suspect the faithfulness of some of my officers; for they, finding things going against us, may kill me: they have attempted it once before.”

Reginald accordingly agreed to remain; while Burnett, at the head of three hundred horsemen, set off to make a wide circuit round the hills, in the hope of reaching the rear of the fort. In the meantime the attack in front was carried on with the same want of success as before, resulting only in the destruction of still more of the rajah’s troops.

Night was approaching, and at length the attempt was abandoned. The order was given to encamp in the only spot where this could be done with any degree of safety. A small tent had been brought for the rajah, who invited Reginald, attended by Faithful and Dick Thuddichum, to remain with him. The rest of the force, officers as well as men, lay down with their horses picketed near them. But the night air in that elevated region was very cold, and all complained greatly. The rajah’s tent had been fixed amid the ruins of a small temple, built by the former possessors of the country, as the present inhabitants had neither temples nor priests. Sentinels were posted round the camp; but they were ill-fitted for the duty, having been engaged during the whole day in attempting to storm the fort, while they were suffering, moreover, from the cold. The rest of the army lay down to sleep. Reginald, with Faithful, occupied the further end of the tent.

It wanted an hour or two to dawn, when Reginald, he knew not from what cause, awoke. As he looked up, for a moment forgetting where he was, he saw, by the light of a lamp burning in the centre of the tent, the curtain at the entrance noiselessly drawn aside, and three men appear, who, by their dresses, he knew were persons of rank, each holding a drawn sword in his hand. What their intention was, he had no doubt; and shouting to awake the rajah, he sprang to his feet, grasping his own sword and pistols. His shouts awakened Dick Thuddichum, who, sailor-like, was asleep with one eye open just outside the tent. Faithful, at the same time, started to her feet, and at a glance took in the situation of affairs. The assassins, if such they were, seemed not to have known of her presence. Before the rajah could rise and grasp his scimitar, however, the leading assassin was close upon him, about to plunge his weapon in his breast,—when Faithful, bounding across the tent, grasped the traitor in her huge jaws. Reginald attacked the second man, who was advancing towards him; while Dick Thuddichum, with a heavy sword which he called his “cutlash,” set upon the third. So staggered were the assassins by the unexpected resistance they met with, and so horrified at the fate of their companion, that they were quite unable, though redoubtable swordsmen, effectually to defend themselves. Faithful sprang by them, carrying the body of their leader in her huge jaws up the steps of the temple; while Reginald shot his opponent, and Dick brought the man with whom he was engaged to the ground with a blow of his weapon. At the same moment a loud uproar was heard from the side of the camp nearest the heights. Shouts and shrieks, the rattle of firearms and the clash of steel, reached their ears; while the cry arose, “The enemy are upon us! The enemy are coming down in countless numbers!—to horse! To horse!” A sudden panic seized the troops. The foot-soldiers, who were bivouacked, suddenly set upon before they could fall into order to repel the attack, were overpowered by the hardy mountaineers, who rushed in among them with their long daggers, and killed all they encountered. The rajah’s bodyguard, who had been won over by the traitors, finding those who had seduced them killed, took to flight; while most of the remainder, not understanding what had happened, followed their example.

Fortunately, the rajah’s horse was picketed near at hand. Reginald advised him to mount, and offered to try and rally the fugitives. He and Dick threw themselves on their horses; but he shouted in vain to the horsemen to wheel round and attack the foe. He could dimly distinguish the forms of the combatants in the valley below, where it was evident that a desperate struggle was going on. Reginald now called Faithful to his side to assist him in case of emergency. Though she seemed very unwilling to quit her victim, she obeyed him, and came bounding along, still carrying in her jaws the body of the khan. She dropped it, however, at his command, and trotted on in her usual place by his side. By this time some twenty or thirty troopers had collected around their chief; but the rest, as soon as they could find their steeds and mount, galloped off up the valley. Reginald, burning with indignation at the cowardly way in which the troops had deserted the rajah, offered to lead the small body which remained, feeling confident that by charging suddenly into the midst of the mountaineers he could put them to flight.

“They will believe, as they see us coming, that the rest of the cavalry are following, and will not dare to stand the charge,” he exclaimed.

The rajah, however, hesitated. “It would be useless,” he answered. “At the return of day they would discover our scanty forces and hem us in. The only chance we have to save our lives is to retreat; and we can return again before long and avenge our defeat.”

Reginald did his best to restrain his feelings, but he was confident that, had his plan been followed, it would have been successful. While they were yet speaking, a sepoy without his musket came rushing up the hill, shouting out—

“All have been cut to pieces!”

Two or three others were behind him, hotly pursued by a band of the mountaineers, who were quickly upon them, when they were cut down without mercy.

Without attempting to rescue the poor fellow who first escaped, the rajah wheeled round his horse, and ordering his troopers to follow, galloped off along the side of the hill in the direction the rest of the cavalry had taken. The ground, however, was rough in the extreme, and in the darkness of night they could with difficulty guide their horses amid the rocks. Reginald, though feeling no small amount of indignation at the cowardly conduct of the troops, saw that at present it would be useless to urge the rajah to turn and attack the enemy. He hoped, however, that they should soon overtake the rest of the cavalry, who would probably, he thought, halt when they found that they were not pursued, and, it might be, feeling ashamed of their cowardice, return to ascertain what had become of their chief.

Just as the grey light of morning began to penetrate the valley, Reginald, who was riding by the side of the rajah, caught sight of the rear of the fugitives at some distance ahead. The cowardly troopers were soon overtaken, for their horses were blown from their rapid gallop over the rough and hilly ground.

The rajah, concealing his rage, inquired why they had deserted him.

“We believed that you and all who remained behind were destroyed, and that our only chance of saving our lives and revenging your death was to fly,” answered several officers whom the rajah addressed, speaking all together that they might support each other.

The rajah well knew that their object in going off was to leave him and his faithful guards to be cut to pieces; but still concealing his real feelings, he observed with perfect calmness—

“You might have ascertained the fact before deserting me; but now you see that I have escaped, we will go back and punish the rebels. The brave sepoys have undoubtedly been destroyed to a man; but that should make us still more eager to avenge their death. And what are you worth, if you cannot do so with your carbines and sharp tulwars? Come on, then, at once! We may take the foe by surprise while engaged in plundering the dead.”

The rajah’s address seemed to be producing some effect. Those who had not joined the traitor khans flourished their swords aloft, and swore that they would follow the rajah to death or victory; while the mutineers, unwilling to venture through the defiles alone, saw that their wisest course was to assume a willingness to obey, and wait for another opportunity of escaping. The horses of all the party were, however, too much fatigued to attempt moving without some rest and food, while they themselves were also in want of refreshment. A stream near at hand enabled them to obtain water, while each trooper carried provisions for himself and horse. They accordingly dismounted, and having watered their horses at the stream, sat down on the ground to discuss their rice and ghee,—the rajah and his chief officers partaking of the same simple fare as the men. They were thus employed—some lying at their length on the sward, others sitting cross-legged, others warming their food over numerous little fires which they had kindled from the dried branches cut from the brushwood around, the horses picketed on the spots where grass was most abundant—when Reginald, who was endeavouring to swallow the unpalatable mess presented to him by the rajah, caught sight of a figure on one of the neighbouring heights. It was but for a moment, as the man again concealed himself behind a rock. He mentioned the circumstance to the rajah, but that personage seemed to think he must have been mistaken.

“I strongly advise, however, that the men should be ordered to mount forthwith,” said Reginald. “Should the mountaineers have followed our track, they may be in our midst before the men have time to stand to their arms or reach their horses; and we may be cut to pieces as the infantry have been.”

But the rajah was still unconvinced. “Let the men finish their meal,” he said; “and then, if the rebels come on, we will treat them as they have treated our foot-soldiers.”

A few minutes more passed by, during which Reginald had been watching the heights, feeling certain that he had not been mistaken. Suddenly he exclaimed, “See, Rajah!—I warned you.”

“To horse! To horse!” shouted the rajah, springing on his steed, which his syce had brought him.

Reginald followed his example,—as, of course, did Dick. He was not a moment too soon, for, the instant he had spoken, from behind every bush, tree, and rock on the surrounding heights appeared the dark forms of a host of warriors. Showers of arrows now began to fly into the midst of the camp; while through the ravine which led directly down towards the plateau on which they had halted came a compact body armed with tulwars and shields. The troopers rushed to their steeds, mounting in hot haste, for in another minute the furious savages would be among them. The rajah and his guards, who gathered round him as they could throw themselves on their horses, dashed on; while the remainder followed, galloping helter-skelter, the officers and men mingled together, each eager to get ahead. Some of the horses getting loose, they were left to the mercy of the enemy; as were also the troopers who were unable to mount before the enemy were upon them. Reginald, his cheek burning with shame at the disgraceful panic which had seized his companions, galloped on by the side of the rajah, who refused to halt and attempt to beat back the foe, in spite of all that he could urge. Dick and Faithful kept close by him. “Bless my heart!” exclaimed the former, “I don’t like this sort of fun. Why, if we were just to turn round and bear down on the enemy, we might scatter them like the wind! The faster we run, the faster they will come after us.”

The flight continued; but so active were the mountaineers, that they kept close to the heels of the fugitives, piercing many a warrior through the back with their far-flying arrows. Reginald mentally resolved never again to accompany an Eastern prince in an attempt to punish his rebellious subjects.

At length more level ground appeared ahead, and the horsemen began to distance their pursuers. But there were still some dangerous defiles to be passed; and Reginald remembered that the path by which they had come had many twists and turns, and that too probably the mountaineers would make their way by short cuts through the hills, and again present themselves on the inaccessible heights on either side of the passes.

The rajah and his horsemen at length of necessity pulled rein, to breathe their panting steeds; and information having been passed along from the rear that the enemy were no longer in pursuit, they now rode on more leisurely, talking loudly of coming back with an overwhelming force to annihilate the audacious rebels. Ere long, however, Reginald’s worst apprehensions were realised. Before them appeared a narrow valley, with gorges running into it on either side. The rajah, who had recovered his presence of mind, here ordered a halt, and directed his men to see that their saddle-girths were tight and their arms loaded.

“We must pass through yonder valley as fast as our horses’ feet can touch the ground,” he exclaimed. “Forward!”

Scarcely had he spoken, and made his horse bound onward, when the hilltops were seen bristling with spears, and hundreds of dark warriors, with bows and arrows or javelins in hand, appeared ready to rush down upon the invaders of their territory. The rajah now hesitated. Reginald advised him to dash on at once; to remain where they were would only encourage the foe, and the troopers with their firearms might clear the heights, and most, if not all, of their party might escape. But the rajah did not follow his advice. Then the mountaineers, instead of wisely remaining in an impregnable position, were seen descending the heights, believing from their previous success that they might destroy the rajah and his whole force. A few only remained on the summit of the precipice. Down came from either side a thick stream of savage warriors, throwing themselves upon the horsemen; and again and again they were driven back. The old rajah showed himself brave enough now, fighting as fiercely as any of his guard. Reginald and Dick did their best, too; while Faithful sprang from side to side, bringing many a mountaineer to the ground. Still, several horsemen had fallen; and numbers coming on, the party were completely hemmed in, a dense mass collected in front precluding all possibility of escape, unless a way could be cut through them; while the troopers who fell were immediately hacked to pieces by their enraged foes.

It was now too late for Reginald to mourn his folly in having accompanied the old chief. Brave as he was, he could not help believing that he and all with him would be cut to pieces. Still, a way might be forced through the foe; so, shouting to those in the rear, he ordered them to close up. “Now, Rajah,” he exclaimed, “we must let nothing stop us. Shout to your people to follow, and dash on!”

The word was given, but so dense was the mass in front that success appeared hopeless. Just then a shout was heard from several of the troopers, “See! See! Our friends are coming!” At the same moment Reginald caught sight of a large body of horsemen, whom he at once recognised as those who had accompanied Captain Burnett, galloping down the ravine on the left. From the heights above, they had apparently observed the perilous position of their friends; and on they came like an avalanche, at headlong speed, throwing themselves impetuously on the mountaineers, who gave way as the surface of the ocean recedes before the bows of a gallant ship impelled by the gale. Before they could regain the heights, both parties of cavalry had united and cut their way through them, leaving, however, many of their number dead on the field. There was no thought of pulling rein now. Captain Burnett reported that nearly a third of his men had separated in one of the defiles, with two or three officers; but whether they had escaped from among the mountains by a different route to that which he had taken, or been cut off by the foe, he was unable to ascertain. He hoped, however, that they had escaped, and would before long rejoin the main body.

On galloped the horsemen, without even casting a look behind, till, as the shades of evening were gathering amid the mountains, they caught sight of the still sunny plain ahead. Onward they dashed; and at length, men and horses almost exhausted, they halted, as darkness came on, by the side of a calm lake, where they could bivouac without fear of being attacked by the mountaineers,—who would, they were very sure, not venture to follow them into the plain.

Chapter Four.Desertion of Chiefs—The Camp reached—Mourning for the Slain—The Rajah takes it coolly—A Hunting Expedition—Reginald’s Narrow Escape—Saved by Faithful—Bad News from the City—The Rajah and Horsemen set out—Report of Rebellion Confirmed—The Rajah and Reginald assume Disguises.Reginald and Burnett, with Dick Thuddichum and Faithful, kept watch by the side of the rajah, who was greatly cast down, not only at his defeat, but on account of the dissatisfaction exhibited by so many of his influential followers. During the night, while the old chief was asleep, they heard some slight stir in the camp; but as the sentinels gave no alarm, they did not consider it necessary to go and ascertain the cause.Next morning, when the rajah came to muster his men, he discovered that several of those who had been seen after they had escaped from the mountaineer, were missing, among them being two or three chiefs of rank. On making inquiries, he ascertained that they had moved off,—for the purpose, as they said, or obtaining better fodder for their horses, and provisions for themselves.“Whatever their intention was, they went without my permission!” exclaimed the rajah in an angry tone. “They have gone to rob and murder the people, as is their wont. No wonder my subjects are ever ready to rebel—I must get you, my friends, to assist in reforming the abuses of my government,” he continued, turning to Reginald and Burnett, “I have written to the Company, begging them to send me a resident and a regiment or two of sepoys, to help me to keep order among all ranks. Let the princes and nobles grumble as they will, all those cities are the most prosperous which are under the protection of the English.”“Your words are full of wisdom,” answered Captain Burnett. “I will, with your permission, report the state of affairs at Allahapoor; when the Company, I have no doubt, will attend to your wishes.”The shattered remnant of the gallant force which had marched to the mountains was now in motion, and dashed on. Before evening they reached the fortified camp, where, as soon as the loss they had suffered was made known, they were received with loud wailings and lamentations,—wives mourning for their husbands, and children for their parents. The missing cavalry had not yet appeared, and Burnett began to entertain serious apprehensions that they had been cut off.A couple of days were spent at the camp, which was then broken up, and the march was continued for Allahapoor. At the end of three days they reached an ancient palace, with a temple near it, belonging to the rajah. It was in a somewhat ruinous condition; but still it afforded accommodation for him and his suite. His attendants quickly cleaned out some of the rooms, and fitted them up with tent-hangings and carpets, while a foraging party was sent through the surrounding country to collect provisions.The rajah seemed in no hurry to return to Allahapoor, and to all the trouble and cares of government; and Burnett suggested that things might be getting worse at his capital.“Oh, no!” he replied; “they are as bad as they can be; and the resident will put them all to rights when he arrives, and save me a vast amount of trouble. In the meantime you may amuse yourselves with hunting. There must be an abundance of game in the neighbourhood, as the tigers alone, I am told, carry off at least a dozen peasants a week; and there are deer, bears, and wild boars without number. You will find it a perfect huntsman’s paradise.”“Not at all a paradise for the unfortunate peasants,” observed Burnett. “However, we will take advantage of your highness’s permission, and try to rid the country of some of the savage brutes.”Several elephants were immediately got ready, and a party of horsemen ordered out to attend on Reginald and his friend. They preferred being together on one howdah, into which they mounted by a ladder. The weather was pleasant, and a breeze from the mountains gave a freshness to the air not to be found in the lower plains.They had gone some distance, passing through a magnificently wooded country, when, as they approached a village which was said to have suffered greatly by the depredations of tigers, they were met by the chief man and two of his principal officers, who, with humble bows, gave them welcome. They had heard, they said, of the prowess of the two sahibs, and begged that they would exert their skill and destroy all the tigers which infested the neighbourhood. Burnett was highly amused; but promised that he and his companion would do all they could, if the people would undertake to drive the animals towards them. The answer appeared to be satisfactory, and Reginald and Burnett entered the village mounted on their elephants, and accompanied by a noisy multitude, some on camels, others on horseback, and a number on foot, shouting their praise, and threatening death and destruction to the formidable man-eaters which had long been the terror of the neighbourhood.“We must perform wonders, to retain our reputation,” said Burnett, laughing; “though I doubt if our friends will do much to help us. They stand too much in awe of the tigers to venture near their lairs; and it will only be by great good fortune that we shall fall in with any of the brutes to kill.”As they were anxious not to be long absent from the camp, they immediately started towards the jungle in which the tigers were said to take refuge.As we have more exciting matter to narrate, we must not dwell long on the day’s adventures. The beaters had for some time been hallooing and shouting on either side, when, just as the Englishmen’s elephant was twenty yards or so from the edge of the jungle, a huge tiger made its appearance. With one bound, before they had time to take aim, it fixed its powerful claws in the creature’s neck, barely missing the mahout. The elephant, with a roar, turned round and dashed off, holding his trunk in the air. The tiger was now preparing to make a spring into the howdah, when Reginald and Burnett both firing, it dropped wounded on the ground, the elephant putting its huge foot upon it to squeeze out any remnant of life it might retain. Two more tigers were killed, one of which sprang out in the same way as the first; while a third, though wounded, stole off through the jungle.“Tiger-shooting from the back of an elephant is but slow work, after all,” exclaimed Burnett the next morning, as they were breakfasting in the house of the chief man of the village, where they had slept. “I propose that we try what we can do on foot. The shikaree wallah we spoke to last night seems a bold fellow, and will show us some sport. What do you say?”“With all my heart,” answered Reginald. “Our host has some good-looking horses, and as he will be proud of mounting us, I would rather ride to the jungle than have to sit on the back of a lumbering elephant.”Their host at once expressed his readiness to furnish the sportsmen with steeds; and in a short time they set forth towards a part of the jungle in which the shikaree assured them that numberless tigers were to be found.Reginald was in better spirits than he had been since the disastrous affair with the mountaineers, and laughed and talked in his usual style with his friend as they rode along. Suddenly they came upon a huge animal lying down in the shade of a wide-spreading tree. As the creature, disturbed by their approach, rose and faced them, it was seen to be not less than seven feet in height at the shoulder, with a vast head, and horns of a formidable character. It was a gyal, a description of wild cattle found in the hilly parts of the plains of Hindustan. The savage animal, shaking his head and stamping on the ground, prepared to charge.“I’ll fire first,” cried Burnett. “If he does not fall, do you try to hit him; and should you also fail to bring him to the ground, gallop off on one side till you can get behind a tree to reload, while I take the opposite direction, so as to distract his attention. We shall thus master him, depend on it.”As Burnett finished speaking he fired. The dull thud as the bullet entered the body of the gyal could be heard; but the creature, apparently not feeling his wound, came rushing with a loud bellow at the horsemen. Reginald delivered his fire, as he had been advised, but without stopping the bull; and then he and Burnett galloped off in opposite directions. The gyal followed the latter, making the very ground shake as he rushed bellowing along in chase of the huntsman, whom he might have tossed, with his steed, into the air, had he overtaken them. Burnett, however, was too practised a sportsman to be thus caught, and, dodging behind the trees till he could reload, was soon again ready to face his foe. Reginald, meanwhile, having discovered that the gyal was not following him, pulled up under a tree to reload. As he was ramming down the charge, his horse started, and the next moment a huge tiger, springing out of the jungle, fixed its jaws on the flank of the poor steed, which it brought to the ground, providentially failing to strike Reginald with its claws. His first impulse was to try and extricate himself from beneath his fallen horse, so that he might have a chance of defending himself; but as he was endeavouring to do so, the tiger, loosening its hold of the horse, sprang open-mouthed at him. At that moment he heard a shot, and the next the sound of a horse’s hoofs approaching him; but though help was coming, it would have been too late had he not, with wonderful presence of mind, rammed the butt of his rifle down the throat of his savage assailant. It merely served to check the brute for an instant; still, that instant was of the greatest value. Though Burnett came galloping up, he was afraid of firing lest he should hit his friend instead of the tiger; but unexpected assistance now arrived. A loud roar sounded through the forest, and another tiger, springing on the neck of the one attacking Reginald, dragged it away from him, and pinned it to the ground. The newcomer was Faithful. Nobly she fought for her master, and victory soon declared in her favour.Reginald, getting on his feet, held the horse of his friend, who, taking a steady aim, sent a shot through the brains of Faithful’s antagonist. Reginald patted his pet on the head, and tried to make her understand how grateful he felt to her for her timely aid; and she in return gave him that peculiar look which, in the feline tribe, exhibits pleasure and satisfaction. The natives soon afterwards coming up, looked with wonder at the tigress, and congratulated the sahibs on their victory, for Burnett had killed the gyal as well as the tiger.Burnett was eager to go in chase of more game; but Reginald had had hunting enough for one day, for though he had escaped without any actual wound, his legs were bruised from being crushed under his horse. The poor animal was so much injured, that its owner shot it to put it out of its agony. Another steed was forthwith provided for Reginald, who rode back to the village attended by a number of the astonished inhabitants, and accompanied by Faithful, whose opportune appearance he was at a loss to account for.“We must wait till we get back to camp to hear more about the matter,” observed Reginald, patting his favourite’s head. “Dick will be very unhappy at missing you. He little thinks what good service you have rendered me.”Burnett, who had remained behind, arrived towards the evening, having shot two more tigers, thus greatly increasing the fame of the Englishmen.“No wonder that their countrymen are the conquerors of the world, when these two sahibs make nothing of killing half-a-dozen man-eaters,” was the remark made on all sides.After receiving the thanks of the villagers, who petitioned that they would come again to shoot more of their foes, Reginald and Burnett returned to the headquarters of the rajah. As they arrived, they saw an extraordinary personage standing in the hall waiting to be admitted. He had almost the appearance of a bronze statue, so motionless did he stand, and his rigid features being apparently incapable of expressing any sentiment, either of pleasure or pain. His dress consisted of a cloth wrapped round his waist, a scarf over his shoulder, and a turban on his head—the upper part of his body and his legs being completely exposed. The man was a fakir, one of a class of religious fanatics, who, ignorant of a God of love and mercy, believe that holiness can be obtained by practising the most rigid self-denial and the infliction of every variety of torture on themselves.Burnett inquired whence he had come.“From Allahapoor,” he answered. “Night and day I have travelled, to see the rajah on a matter of importance. Tell him, sahib, that it admits of no delay, and that I must forthwith be admitted to an audience.”Burnett, believing that the fakir had really some matter of consequence to communicate, hastened to the rajah, who desired that he should at once be admitted. In spite of his mean attire, the rajah received the fakir with the same respect he would have bestowed on the proudest noble.“Whence do you come, and what tidings do you bring?” he asked.“O Refuge of the World, I come from the well-beloved, the Princess of the Universe, your grandchild the Ranee. She sent for me, knowing that I could be trusted, and bade me hasten to your highness with some information she had obtained, I know not how. My only desire was to obey her orders. During your absence treachery has been at work in the city; and even now, unless some fortunate chance has prevented them, your enemies are in possession of your palace and riches. Khan Mukund arrived some days ago with a party of horsemen, who spread the report that your highness was dead, and that he intended to get himself proclaimed rajah in your stead.”The rajah started up and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, as if he would rush off at once to recover his possessions; then recollecting that he was at a distance from Allahapoor, he made further inquiries of the fakir, whose answers confirmed him in the belief that the man spoke the truth.“I now see why those traitors galloped off in order to reach the city before us. What do you advise, my friends?” he asked, turning to Burnett and Reginald.“That we act with judgment and caution, and we may yet win back your city and restore you to power,” answered Burnett. “You have still a faithful band remaining with you; and the traitors cannot possibly be aware that you have requested the presence of an English resident, and a regiment of sepoys. Their arrival will of necessity disconcert the plans of the rebels. When it is known, the usurper will probably take to flight, and you will quickly have your own again.”“But, in the meantime, what will the wretches have done with my family, and my grand-daughter Nuna, and the rest of those I hold dear?”This remark made Burnett feel very anxious, for he could not give a satisfactory reply. “They will scarcely venture to ill-treat the defenceless, well knowing that vengeance will speedily overtake them,” he answered at length. “Besides, remember, O Rajah, that this holy man has only told us what he fears may possibly take place. The events he speaks of have not actually occurred, and we may hope that something may have prevented the expected outbreak. If we hasten back to Allahapoor, we may arrive in time to frustrate the plans of the conspirators. With the body of trusty followers you have with you, and those who still remain faithful in the city, we shall be able to overcome your foes, even should the rebellion have begun.”Burnett’s remarks had the effect of reviving the spirits of the rajah, and he immediately issued orders for a picked body of his cavalry to get ready for a move that very night, a small number only being left to guard the women and camp-followers. Adopting Captain Burnett’s advice, he purposed pushing on towards the city as fast as their steeds could carry them; while the rest of the party were to move forward at their usual slow rate, beyond which it was impossible to advance. Even the rajah and his party could not perform more than thirty or forty miles each day, as their horses required food and rest; and they had fully three days’ march before them.The rajah could only talk of the vengeance he would take should the rebels have succeeded; and he vowed that the streets of the city should run with the blood of his foes as soon as he had succeeded in overpowering them. Burnett, who knew very well that he would carry out his threats, and anxious to prevent the hideous cruelties which would be committed, endeavoured to pacify the old chief, and reminded him that possibly the expected resident might have arrived with the British sepoys, whose presence would disconcert the plans of the rebels, and probably induce them to abandon their design.Reginald was anxious on his own account. The services he had rendered the rajah merited the best return which could be made, and he had had great hopes that his wish would be complied with; but should the rajah be hurled from power, he would be unable to grant him his request. As far as he could ascertain, the rajah was the only man possessed of the important secret he wished to obtain, so that should the old chief lose his life Reginald would be deprived of the only clue which might lead to its elucidation. He determined, therefore, to take the first favourable opportunity of telling the rajah who he was, and entreating him to give him the information that was of such vital importance to his future interests. Reginald had been led to believe that the rajah would be very unwilling to enter on the subject, and he had therefore hesitated to introduce it, till he felt more sure than he had hitherto done, of the footing on which he stood with the old man.For two days the party had ridden on, stopping only a sufficient time to rest their steeds, and to recruit themselves by sleep and food. They had taken a different route to that by which they had come, avoiding all populous villages, in order that information of their approach might not be carried to the city. One day’s march only remained to be performed; and the party bivouacked by the side of a wood, which concealed them and the fires they lighted to cook their food from the high road, which ran at some distance. The rajah was sitting on his carpet near the campfire, with Reginald and Burnett by his side, Dick Thuddichum and Faithful being close at hand, serving as efficient guards. The men lay about, their horses feeding close to them; while scouts watched on the outskirts of the camp, as if they were in an enemy’s country—for it was thought possible, should the rebels discover that the rajah was approaching, that they would send out a strong force to attack him. These measures were taken by the advice of Captain Burnett, who had also recommended that they should take the unfrequented road they had followed, so that they might have a good chance of surprising the rebels.The rajah showed himself sensible of the important aid he had received from his English attendants, and on this evening he seemed more inclined to open his heart to them than heretofore.“Had it not been for you, my young friend, I should be even now a clod of the earth, my body left to be devoured by the fowls of the air and the wild beasts of the forest. You and your faithful tigress saved me from the daggers of my traitorous officers. And your opportune arrival prevented our being cut off by the mountaineers, as would otherwise have been our fate,” he added, turning to Burnett.The two young men, in the usual Oriental phrases, expressed their satisfaction at having rendered any service to his highness.“And now tell me how I can reward you,” exclaimed the rajah. “Only let me know; though, alas! Should I lose my power, how can I fulfil any promises?”Reginald saw that now the favourable opportunity he had wished for, of speaking to the rajah of himself, had arrived.“Your highness can render me a greater service than you may suppose,” he said, speaking slowly, for he knew that he was treading on delicate ground. “My friend and I are not the first Englishmen who have resided at your court. There was one who served you faithfully, and whose sword preserved your life when surrounded by foes in battle; but traitors, who were jealous of the favour you bestowed on him, conspired to take his life; and they would have succeeded, had he not, leaving all he held dear, together with his worldly wealth, and undergoing great hardships, been successful in making his way to Calcutta with his young son. When there, important information he received compelled him to return to his native land. Once more he came back to India, with his son, intending at all hazards to revisit you; but the trials he had gone through had shattered his health, and when just about to set out on his journey he died, leaving to his only son the duty of vindicating his fair fame, and regaining the property of which he had been deprived.”“Who told you all this?” exclaimed the rajah in an agitated voice. “Where is the son of whom you speak? I would greatly rejoice to see the boy. I would not only restore him his father’s property, but raise him to a rank next to myself in my government.”Just at that moment an officer hurried up to the rajah, and after making the usual salutation, informed him that the scouts had fallen in with a messenger from the city who was on his way to try and find their party. “The information he has to give will not allow of an instant’s delay, he says,” added the officer.The rajah ordered that the man should be immediately admitted to his presence.“What news do you bring? Speak at once,” exclaimed the rajah.“Unhappy I am to bring it, for it is bad news,” answered the man. “The whole city is in a tumult. Mukund Bhim has been proclaimed rajah, and already more than half the people have sided with him; still there are some who remain faithful, and if your highness were to appear among them at once, the rebellion might be quelled, and your power restored. Your servant ventures to advise that you should gallop on during the night, so as to enter the city by daybreak—though the distance is great, your steeds may get over the ground in time—and by taking the rebels by surprise you may overcome them before they can offer resistance; when the loyal people will gather around you, and you may once more find yourself the undisputed ruler of Allahapoor.”“Your advice sounds full of wisdom,” answered the rajah. “To horse, my friends! And we will not pull rein till the walls of my rebellious city appear in sight.”The whole camp was immediately astir. The horses, unfortunately, in consequence of the rapid march of the two previous days, were ill able to gallop on for thirty miles without stopping, with the prospect of some hot fighting at the end of it. Still, march they must at all hazards.Each horseman, before mounting, tightened up the girths of his saddle; and all having fallen into their ranks, the order to move forward was given. A strong advance-guard led the way, with their arms ready for instant use, as they knew that at any moment they might be attacked by the rebels,—who, should they by any means get tidings of their approach, would assuredly send out a numerous force against them. The rajah, attended by Reginald and Burnett, rode with the main body. There was no time for conversation, and Reginald had still to wait for the important information he was so anxious to obtain. A few words only could be occasionally exchanged. On they rode, keeping a tight rein, to prevent their horses from stumbling. Now and then a poor beast came down; and the rider, if he escaped a broken limb, had to make his way on foot, with the risk of either being set upon by a tiger, or murdered by the villagers whose property he and his comrades had plundered. The rajah hoped that he should either be able to force the gates, or that the guards would open them at his summons, and that he might thus be able to catch Mukund Bhim and the rest of the rebel chiefs while they were still locked in slumber.They were now rapidly approaching the city. Already, in the far distance, the outlines of the domes and minarets of the temples and mosques could be seen defined against the clear sky. No rebels had appeared to dispute their progress, and the rajah began to hope that the rebellion had not yet fully broken out, and that he might still have time to crush it. He and the main body moving on, came up with the advance-guard, which had halted. The rajah inquired the cause. The officer in command answered that they had met a person who had brought tidings from the city. “Let me hear his report,” said the rajah; and a man, looking more like a wild beast than a human being, advanced from among the horsemen. He was a byraghee, or religious mendicant. His body was naked, with the exception of a narrow piece of cloth passed between the legs, and fastened before and behind to a string tied round the waist. His hair was long and matted, its bulk increased by plaits of other hair mixed with it. His body was smeared with the ashes of cowdung, giving it a most unearthly hue; while his inflamed and bleared eyes could scarcely be perceived amidst the mass of dirt which clung around them. Anything less human could scarcely be imagined than the appearance of the miserable being.“What tidings do you bring from the city?” asked the rajah anxiously.“Bad—very bad, O Refuge of the World,” answered the mendicant. “Last night, ere I passed through the gates, I saw your foes shouting forth the name of Mukund Bhim, their new rajah. It was reported that you had perished, and all your followers had been slain amid the mountains; and no one I met discredited the tale. Thus your friends are disheartened; but if you were to appear among them, to show that you are still alive, they would regain their courage and fight bravely in your cause.”“But how to get among them, is the difficulty,” observed the rajah. “Tell me, byraghee, are the gates closed?”“Not only closed, but strongly guarded,” answered the mendicant. “It would be vain to attempt to force them; your only way of entering will be in disguise. I passed, encamped at a short distance from the gates, a caravan of merchants with their camels, who had arrived too late to find admittance last night. If your highness would condescend to disguise yourself as one of them, they would consent to your entering among them,—trusting to your generosity for the reward you would bestow should you succeed.”The rajah, after considering the matter, agreed to the proposal of the byraghee. He then invited Reginald to accompany him, while he begged Burnett to take the command of the horsemen, and to remain concealed in the wood in which they were drawn up till he could send word to them that a favourable opportunity had arrived for making a dash into the city. “The risk, I know, is great,” he added; “but I am ready to hazard my own life for the sake of recovering what I have lost.”“The commands of your highness shall be obeyed,” said Burnett; “and may you and my young friend be preserved in your undertaking! Unless treachery is at work,—as no one will suspect that you are among the merchants,—the hazard is not so great as it may appear.”All necessary arrangements being made, the rajah, accompanied by Reginald, proceeded on foot to the merchants’ camp; while Faithful, whose appearance might have betrayed them, remained behind in the care of Dick Thuddichum.To the rajah’s satisfaction, he found that the merchant to whom the caravan belonged was a Parsee with whom he had formerly had satisfactory dealings, and who might be thoroughly trusted. The required dress was produced—the rajah’s rich costume being packed up among the bales—and he appeared in the guise of one of the merchant’s clerks; while Reginald assumed the costume and arms of a common sowar employed in guarding the merchandise.

Reginald and Burnett, with Dick Thuddichum and Faithful, kept watch by the side of the rajah, who was greatly cast down, not only at his defeat, but on account of the dissatisfaction exhibited by so many of his influential followers. During the night, while the old chief was asleep, they heard some slight stir in the camp; but as the sentinels gave no alarm, they did not consider it necessary to go and ascertain the cause.

Next morning, when the rajah came to muster his men, he discovered that several of those who had been seen after they had escaped from the mountaineer, were missing, among them being two or three chiefs of rank. On making inquiries, he ascertained that they had moved off,—for the purpose, as they said, or obtaining better fodder for their horses, and provisions for themselves.

“Whatever their intention was, they went without my permission!” exclaimed the rajah in an angry tone. “They have gone to rob and murder the people, as is their wont. No wonder my subjects are ever ready to rebel—I must get you, my friends, to assist in reforming the abuses of my government,” he continued, turning to Reginald and Burnett, “I have written to the Company, begging them to send me a resident and a regiment or two of sepoys, to help me to keep order among all ranks. Let the princes and nobles grumble as they will, all those cities are the most prosperous which are under the protection of the English.”

“Your words are full of wisdom,” answered Captain Burnett. “I will, with your permission, report the state of affairs at Allahapoor; when the Company, I have no doubt, will attend to your wishes.”

The shattered remnant of the gallant force which had marched to the mountains was now in motion, and dashed on. Before evening they reached the fortified camp, where, as soon as the loss they had suffered was made known, they were received with loud wailings and lamentations,—wives mourning for their husbands, and children for their parents. The missing cavalry had not yet appeared, and Burnett began to entertain serious apprehensions that they had been cut off.

A couple of days were spent at the camp, which was then broken up, and the march was continued for Allahapoor. At the end of three days they reached an ancient palace, with a temple near it, belonging to the rajah. It was in a somewhat ruinous condition; but still it afforded accommodation for him and his suite. His attendants quickly cleaned out some of the rooms, and fitted them up with tent-hangings and carpets, while a foraging party was sent through the surrounding country to collect provisions.

The rajah seemed in no hurry to return to Allahapoor, and to all the trouble and cares of government; and Burnett suggested that things might be getting worse at his capital.

“Oh, no!” he replied; “they are as bad as they can be; and the resident will put them all to rights when he arrives, and save me a vast amount of trouble. In the meantime you may amuse yourselves with hunting. There must be an abundance of game in the neighbourhood, as the tigers alone, I am told, carry off at least a dozen peasants a week; and there are deer, bears, and wild boars without number. You will find it a perfect huntsman’s paradise.”

“Not at all a paradise for the unfortunate peasants,” observed Burnett. “However, we will take advantage of your highness’s permission, and try to rid the country of some of the savage brutes.”

Several elephants were immediately got ready, and a party of horsemen ordered out to attend on Reginald and his friend. They preferred being together on one howdah, into which they mounted by a ladder. The weather was pleasant, and a breeze from the mountains gave a freshness to the air not to be found in the lower plains.

They had gone some distance, passing through a magnificently wooded country, when, as they approached a village which was said to have suffered greatly by the depredations of tigers, they were met by the chief man and two of his principal officers, who, with humble bows, gave them welcome. They had heard, they said, of the prowess of the two sahibs, and begged that they would exert their skill and destroy all the tigers which infested the neighbourhood. Burnett was highly amused; but promised that he and his companion would do all they could, if the people would undertake to drive the animals towards them. The answer appeared to be satisfactory, and Reginald and Burnett entered the village mounted on their elephants, and accompanied by a noisy multitude, some on camels, others on horseback, and a number on foot, shouting their praise, and threatening death and destruction to the formidable man-eaters which had long been the terror of the neighbourhood.

“We must perform wonders, to retain our reputation,” said Burnett, laughing; “though I doubt if our friends will do much to help us. They stand too much in awe of the tigers to venture near their lairs; and it will only be by great good fortune that we shall fall in with any of the brutes to kill.”

As they were anxious not to be long absent from the camp, they immediately started towards the jungle in which the tigers were said to take refuge.

As we have more exciting matter to narrate, we must not dwell long on the day’s adventures. The beaters had for some time been hallooing and shouting on either side, when, just as the Englishmen’s elephant was twenty yards or so from the edge of the jungle, a huge tiger made its appearance. With one bound, before they had time to take aim, it fixed its powerful claws in the creature’s neck, barely missing the mahout. The elephant, with a roar, turned round and dashed off, holding his trunk in the air. The tiger was now preparing to make a spring into the howdah, when Reginald and Burnett both firing, it dropped wounded on the ground, the elephant putting its huge foot upon it to squeeze out any remnant of life it might retain. Two more tigers were killed, one of which sprang out in the same way as the first; while a third, though wounded, stole off through the jungle.

“Tiger-shooting from the back of an elephant is but slow work, after all,” exclaimed Burnett the next morning, as they were breakfasting in the house of the chief man of the village, where they had slept. “I propose that we try what we can do on foot. The shikaree wallah we spoke to last night seems a bold fellow, and will show us some sport. What do you say?”

“With all my heart,” answered Reginald. “Our host has some good-looking horses, and as he will be proud of mounting us, I would rather ride to the jungle than have to sit on the back of a lumbering elephant.”

Their host at once expressed his readiness to furnish the sportsmen with steeds; and in a short time they set forth towards a part of the jungle in which the shikaree assured them that numberless tigers were to be found.

Reginald was in better spirits than he had been since the disastrous affair with the mountaineers, and laughed and talked in his usual style with his friend as they rode along. Suddenly they came upon a huge animal lying down in the shade of a wide-spreading tree. As the creature, disturbed by their approach, rose and faced them, it was seen to be not less than seven feet in height at the shoulder, with a vast head, and horns of a formidable character. It was a gyal, a description of wild cattle found in the hilly parts of the plains of Hindustan. The savage animal, shaking his head and stamping on the ground, prepared to charge.

“I’ll fire first,” cried Burnett. “If he does not fall, do you try to hit him; and should you also fail to bring him to the ground, gallop off on one side till you can get behind a tree to reload, while I take the opposite direction, so as to distract his attention. We shall thus master him, depend on it.”

As Burnett finished speaking he fired. The dull thud as the bullet entered the body of the gyal could be heard; but the creature, apparently not feeling his wound, came rushing with a loud bellow at the horsemen. Reginald delivered his fire, as he had been advised, but without stopping the bull; and then he and Burnett galloped off in opposite directions. The gyal followed the latter, making the very ground shake as he rushed bellowing along in chase of the huntsman, whom he might have tossed, with his steed, into the air, had he overtaken them. Burnett, however, was too practised a sportsman to be thus caught, and, dodging behind the trees till he could reload, was soon again ready to face his foe. Reginald, meanwhile, having discovered that the gyal was not following him, pulled up under a tree to reload. As he was ramming down the charge, his horse started, and the next moment a huge tiger, springing out of the jungle, fixed its jaws on the flank of the poor steed, which it brought to the ground, providentially failing to strike Reginald with its claws. His first impulse was to try and extricate himself from beneath his fallen horse, so that he might have a chance of defending himself; but as he was endeavouring to do so, the tiger, loosening its hold of the horse, sprang open-mouthed at him. At that moment he heard a shot, and the next the sound of a horse’s hoofs approaching him; but though help was coming, it would have been too late had he not, with wonderful presence of mind, rammed the butt of his rifle down the throat of his savage assailant. It merely served to check the brute for an instant; still, that instant was of the greatest value. Though Burnett came galloping up, he was afraid of firing lest he should hit his friend instead of the tiger; but unexpected assistance now arrived. A loud roar sounded through the forest, and another tiger, springing on the neck of the one attacking Reginald, dragged it away from him, and pinned it to the ground. The newcomer was Faithful. Nobly she fought for her master, and victory soon declared in her favour.

Reginald, getting on his feet, held the horse of his friend, who, taking a steady aim, sent a shot through the brains of Faithful’s antagonist. Reginald patted his pet on the head, and tried to make her understand how grateful he felt to her for her timely aid; and she in return gave him that peculiar look which, in the feline tribe, exhibits pleasure and satisfaction. The natives soon afterwards coming up, looked with wonder at the tigress, and congratulated the sahibs on their victory, for Burnett had killed the gyal as well as the tiger.

Burnett was eager to go in chase of more game; but Reginald had had hunting enough for one day, for though he had escaped without any actual wound, his legs were bruised from being crushed under his horse. The poor animal was so much injured, that its owner shot it to put it out of its agony. Another steed was forthwith provided for Reginald, who rode back to the village attended by a number of the astonished inhabitants, and accompanied by Faithful, whose opportune appearance he was at a loss to account for.

“We must wait till we get back to camp to hear more about the matter,” observed Reginald, patting his favourite’s head. “Dick will be very unhappy at missing you. He little thinks what good service you have rendered me.”

Burnett, who had remained behind, arrived towards the evening, having shot two more tigers, thus greatly increasing the fame of the Englishmen.

“No wonder that their countrymen are the conquerors of the world, when these two sahibs make nothing of killing half-a-dozen man-eaters,” was the remark made on all sides.

After receiving the thanks of the villagers, who petitioned that they would come again to shoot more of their foes, Reginald and Burnett returned to the headquarters of the rajah. As they arrived, they saw an extraordinary personage standing in the hall waiting to be admitted. He had almost the appearance of a bronze statue, so motionless did he stand, and his rigid features being apparently incapable of expressing any sentiment, either of pleasure or pain. His dress consisted of a cloth wrapped round his waist, a scarf over his shoulder, and a turban on his head—the upper part of his body and his legs being completely exposed. The man was a fakir, one of a class of religious fanatics, who, ignorant of a God of love and mercy, believe that holiness can be obtained by practising the most rigid self-denial and the infliction of every variety of torture on themselves.

Burnett inquired whence he had come.

“From Allahapoor,” he answered. “Night and day I have travelled, to see the rajah on a matter of importance. Tell him, sahib, that it admits of no delay, and that I must forthwith be admitted to an audience.”

Burnett, believing that the fakir had really some matter of consequence to communicate, hastened to the rajah, who desired that he should at once be admitted. In spite of his mean attire, the rajah received the fakir with the same respect he would have bestowed on the proudest noble.

“Whence do you come, and what tidings do you bring?” he asked.

“O Refuge of the World, I come from the well-beloved, the Princess of the Universe, your grandchild the Ranee. She sent for me, knowing that I could be trusted, and bade me hasten to your highness with some information she had obtained, I know not how. My only desire was to obey her orders. During your absence treachery has been at work in the city; and even now, unless some fortunate chance has prevented them, your enemies are in possession of your palace and riches. Khan Mukund arrived some days ago with a party of horsemen, who spread the report that your highness was dead, and that he intended to get himself proclaimed rajah in your stead.”

The rajah started up and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, as if he would rush off at once to recover his possessions; then recollecting that he was at a distance from Allahapoor, he made further inquiries of the fakir, whose answers confirmed him in the belief that the man spoke the truth.

“I now see why those traitors galloped off in order to reach the city before us. What do you advise, my friends?” he asked, turning to Burnett and Reginald.

“That we act with judgment and caution, and we may yet win back your city and restore you to power,” answered Burnett. “You have still a faithful band remaining with you; and the traitors cannot possibly be aware that you have requested the presence of an English resident, and a regiment of sepoys. Their arrival will of necessity disconcert the plans of the rebels. When it is known, the usurper will probably take to flight, and you will quickly have your own again.”

“But, in the meantime, what will the wretches have done with my family, and my grand-daughter Nuna, and the rest of those I hold dear?”

This remark made Burnett feel very anxious, for he could not give a satisfactory reply. “They will scarcely venture to ill-treat the defenceless, well knowing that vengeance will speedily overtake them,” he answered at length. “Besides, remember, O Rajah, that this holy man has only told us what he fears may possibly take place. The events he speaks of have not actually occurred, and we may hope that something may have prevented the expected outbreak. If we hasten back to Allahapoor, we may arrive in time to frustrate the plans of the conspirators. With the body of trusty followers you have with you, and those who still remain faithful in the city, we shall be able to overcome your foes, even should the rebellion have begun.”

Burnett’s remarks had the effect of reviving the spirits of the rajah, and he immediately issued orders for a picked body of his cavalry to get ready for a move that very night, a small number only being left to guard the women and camp-followers. Adopting Captain Burnett’s advice, he purposed pushing on towards the city as fast as their steeds could carry them; while the rest of the party were to move forward at their usual slow rate, beyond which it was impossible to advance. Even the rajah and his party could not perform more than thirty or forty miles each day, as their horses required food and rest; and they had fully three days’ march before them.

The rajah could only talk of the vengeance he would take should the rebels have succeeded; and he vowed that the streets of the city should run with the blood of his foes as soon as he had succeeded in overpowering them. Burnett, who knew very well that he would carry out his threats, and anxious to prevent the hideous cruelties which would be committed, endeavoured to pacify the old chief, and reminded him that possibly the expected resident might have arrived with the British sepoys, whose presence would disconcert the plans of the rebels, and probably induce them to abandon their design.

Reginald was anxious on his own account. The services he had rendered the rajah merited the best return which could be made, and he had had great hopes that his wish would be complied with; but should the rajah be hurled from power, he would be unable to grant him his request. As far as he could ascertain, the rajah was the only man possessed of the important secret he wished to obtain, so that should the old chief lose his life Reginald would be deprived of the only clue which might lead to its elucidation. He determined, therefore, to take the first favourable opportunity of telling the rajah who he was, and entreating him to give him the information that was of such vital importance to his future interests. Reginald had been led to believe that the rajah would be very unwilling to enter on the subject, and he had therefore hesitated to introduce it, till he felt more sure than he had hitherto done, of the footing on which he stood with the old man.

For two days the party had ridden on, stopping only a sufficient time to rest their steeds, and to recruit themselves by sleep and food. They had taken a different route to that by which they had come, avoiding all populous villages, in order that information of their approach might not be carried to the city. One day’s march only remained to be performed; and the party bivouacked by the side of a wood, which concealed them and the fires they lighted to cook their food from the high road, which ran at some distance. The rajah was sitting on his carpet near the campfire, with Reginald and Burnett by his side, Dick Thuddichum and Faithful being close at hand, serving as efficient guards. The men lay about, their horses feeding close to them; while scouts watched on the outskirts of the camp, as if they were in an enemy’s country—for it was thought possible, should the rebels discover that the rajah was approaching, that they would send out a strong force to attack him. These measures were taken by the advice of Captain Burnett, who had also recommended that they should take the unfrequented road they had followed, so that they might have a good chance of surprising the rebels.

The rajah showed himself sensible of the important aid he had received from his English attendants, and on this evening he seemed more inclined to open his heart to them than heretofore.

“Had it not been for you, my young friend, I should be even now a clod of the earth, my body left to be devoured by the fowls of the air and the wild beasts of the forest. You and your faithful tigress saved me from the daggers of my traitorous officers. And your opportune arrival prevented our being cut off by the mountaineers, as would otherwise have been our fate,” he added, turning to Burnett.

The two young men, in the usual Oriental phrases, expressed their satisfaction at having rendered any service to his highness.

“And now tell me how I can reward you,” exclaimed the rajah. “Only let me know; though, alas! Should I lose my power, how can I fulfil any promises?”

Reginald saw that now the favourable opportunity he had wished for, of speaking to the rajah of himself, had arrived.

“Your highness can render me a greater service than you may suppose,” he said, speaking slowly, for he knew that he was treading on delicate ground. “My friend and I are not the first Englishmen who have resided at your court. There was one who served you faithfully, and whose sword preserved your life when surrounded by foes in battle; but traitors, who were jealous of the favour you bestowed on him, conspired to take his life; and they would have succeeded, had he not, leaving all he held dear, together with his worldly wealth, and undergoing great hardships, been successful in making his way to Calcutta with his young son. When there, important information he received compelled him to return to his native land. Once more he came back to India, with his son, intending at all hazards to revisit you; but the trials he had gone through had shattered his health, and when just about to set out on his journey he died, leaving to his only son the duty of vindicating his fair fame, and regaining the property of which he had been deprived.”

“Who told you all this?” exclaimed the rajah in an agitated voice. “Where is the son of whom you speak? I would greatly rejoice to see the boy. I would not only restore him his father’s property, but raise him to a rank next to myself in my government.”

Just at that moment an officer hurried up to the rajah, and after making the usual salutation, informed him that the scouts had fallen in with a messenger from the city who was on his way to try and find their party. “The information he has to give will not allow of an instant’s delay, he says,” added the officer.

The rajah ordered that the man should be immediately admitted to his presence.

“What news do you bring? Speak at once,” exclaimed the rajah.

“Unhappy I am to bring it, for it is bad news,” answered the man. “The whole city is in a tumult. Mukund Bhim has been proclaimed rajah, and already more than half the people have sided with him; still there are some who remain faithful, and if your highness were to appear among them at once, the rebellion might be quelled, and your power restored. Your servant ventures to advise that you should gallop on during the night, so as to enter the city by daybreak—though the distance is great, your steeds may get over the ground in time—and by taking the rebels by surprise you may overcome them before they can offer resistance; when the loyal people will gather around you, and you may once more find yourself the undisputed ruler of Allahapoor.”

“Your advice sounds full of wisdom,” answered the rajah. “To horse, my friends! And we will not pull rein till the walls of my rebellious city appear in sight.”

The whole camp was immediately astir. The horses, unfortunately, in consequence of the rapid march of the two previous days, were ill able to gallop on for thirty miles without stopping, with the prospect of some hot fighting at the end of it. Still, march they must at all hazards.

Each horseman, before mounting, tightened up the girths of his saddle; and all having fallen into their ranks, the order to move forward was given. A strong advance-guard led the way, with their arms ready for instant use, as they knew that at any moment they might be attacked by the rebels,—who, should they by any means get tidings of their approach, would assuredly send out a numerous force against them. The rajah, attended by Reginald and Burnett, rode with the main body. There was no time for conversation, and Reginald had still to wait for the important information he was so anxious to obtain. A few words only could be occasionally exchanged. On they rode, keeping a tight rein, to prevent their horses from stumbling. Now and then a poor beast came down; and the rider, if he escaped a broken limb, had to make his way on foot, with the risk of either being set upon by a tiger, or murdered by the villagers whose property he and his comrades had plundered. The rajah hoped that he should either be able to force the gates, or that the guards would open them at his summons, and that he might thus be able to catch Mukund Bhim and the rest of the rebel chiefs while they were still locked in slumber.

They were now rapidly approaching the city. Already, in the far distance, the outlines of the domes and minarets of the temples and mosques could be seen defined against the clear sky. No rebels had appeared to dispute their progress, and the rajah began to hope that the rebellion had not yet fully broken out, and that he might still have time to crush it. He and the main body moving on, came up with the advance-guard, which had halted. The rajah inquired the cause. The officer in command answered that they had met a person who had brought tidings from the city. “Let me hear his report,” said the rajah; and a man, looking more like a wild beast than a human being, advanced from among the horsemen. He was a byraghee, or religious mendicant. His body was naked, with the exception of a narrow piece of cloth passed between the legs, and fastened before and behind to a string tied round the waist. His hair was long and matted, its bulk increased by plaits of other hair mixed with it. His body was smeared with the ashes of cowdung, giving it a most unearthly hue; while his inflamed and bleared eyes could scarcely be perceived amidst the mass of dirt which clung around them. Anything less human could scarcely be imagined than the appearance of the miserable being.

“What tidings do you bring from the city?” asked the rajah anxiously.

“Bad—very bad, O Refuge of the World,” answered the mendicant. “Last night, ere I passed through the gates, I saw your foes shouting forth the name of Mukund Bhim, their new rajah. It was reported that you had perished, and all your followers had been slain amid the mountains; and no one I met discredited the tale. Thus your friends are disheartened; but if you were to appear among them, to show that you are still alive, they would regain their courage and fight bravely in your cause.”

“But how to get among them, is the difficulty,” observed the rajah. “Tell me, byraghee, are the gates closed?”

“Not only closed, but strongly guarded,” answered the mendicant. “It would be vain to attempt to force them; your only way of entering will be in disguise. I passed, encamped at a short distance from the gates, a caravan of merchants with their camels, who had arrived too late to find admittance last night. If your highness would condescend to disguise yourself as one of them, they would consent to your entering among them,—trusting to your generosity for the reward you would bestow should you succeed.”

The rajah, after considering the matter, agreed to the proposal of the byraghee. He then invited Reginald to accompany him, while he begged Burnett to take the command of the horsemen, and to remain concealed in the wood in which they were drawn up till he could send word to them that a favourable opportunity had arrived for making a dash into the city. “The risk, I know, is great,” he added; “but I am ready to hazard my own life for the sake of recovering what I have lost.”

“The commands of your highness shall be obeyed,” said Burnett; “and may you and my young friend be preserved in your undertaking! Unless treachery is at work,—as no one will suspect that you are among the merchants,—the hazard is not so great as it may appear.”

All necessary arrangements being made, the rajah, accompanied by Reginald, proceeded on foot to the merchants’ camp; while Faithful, whose appearance might have betrayed them, remained behind in the care of Dick Thuddichum.

To the rajah’s satisfaction, he found that the merchant to whom the caravan belonged was a Parsee with whom he had formerly had satisfactory dealings, and who might be thoroughly trusted. The required dress was produced—the rajah’s rich costume being packed up among the bales—and he appeared in the guise of one of the merchant’s clerks; while Reginald assumed the costume and arms of a common sowar employed in guarding the merchandise.

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