Historical fiction; India -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Thugs (Indic criminal group) -- Fiction
"They have; but what of that? they are cowardly rascals, and, you will
see, will run away."
"Then," said I, "run and tell Bhudrinath, who is yonder; tell him to
walk down that side, I will go down this; when we are near them I will
give the jhirnee."
My four men had now joined me, as I told them to do if they saw me
speak to any one; Bhudrinath was joined by his, and by Khoseal Sing,
who had given up his watch at the other end, and arrived at the
critical moment. Our parties proceeded down the street exactly opposite
to each other. I thought not of danger, though it was the first time I
had ever drawn a sword in anger against a fellow-creature, and I was
about to precipitate myself into what might be a sudden and desperate
combat. Our shields apparently hung loosely and easily on our arms, but
they were tightly grasped, and our swords were free in their scabbards.
I saw the party approach--they marched carelessly; and had not the arms
of my companions been tightly bound, and the whole tied together by a
rope, which the leader of the party held in his hand, they might have
easily escaped.
Our men joined together in the middle of the street, and when we were
close to the coming party, I cried, in a loud tone, "Bahee Pan lao!" It
was the signal--our swords flashed from their scabbards, and we threw
ourselves on the sepoys. I cut right and left, and two men fell; the
others were as successful: I rushed to the prisoners, and a few strokes
of my sword, and of those who were nearest, cut their bonds, and they
were free. As Himmat Khan had said, the whole of the sepoys fled on the
instant of the attack.
"Fly to the gates, my brothers, or they will be shut!" I cried; "fly
through these narrow, dark streets; no one will know who you are, nor
trouble themselves about you."
We all dispersed in an instant. I cast a hurried look around me as I
returned my bloody sword into its scabbard, and saw five poor wretches
lying on the ground and groaning. It was enough: I, too, fled down the
nearest street which offered, reached the gate I had entered by, and
when I got on the embankment of the Meer Joomla tank, I plunged among
the gardens and inclosures which are below it, and by the various lanes
which led through them soon reached my father's house. The attack on
the escort of the prisoners, Sahib, was so sudden, and over so quickly,
that I can give you but a faint idea how soon it was made and finished:
it occupied less time than I have taken to tell it; and I have often
wondered since, that the noise and confusion, not only caused by us,
but by a few passengers who witnessed the fray, did not alarm the whole
street, and cause the inhabitants to rise on us.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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