I was not behindhand; my sword was drawn and my shield disengaged, which I placed before me to guard me from the arrows. A few bounds of my horse, which was scarcely second to the Nuwab's, brought me to his side, and we were followed by Bhudrinath and a few others mounted on ponies, and some men on foot with their matchlocks. "Come on, ye sons of defiled mothers," cried the Nuwab; "come on, and prove yourselves true men; come on, and try your cowardly arrows against stout hearts and ready weapons! Base-born kafirs are ye, and cowards; Inshalla! your sisters are vile, and asses have loved your mothers." I could not help laughing at the Nuwab's gesticulations and abuse, as he poured it upon the Gonds and shook his sword at them. They would not move, and perched up as they were on the side of a hill, they prepared their bows to give us a volley--and down it came certainly; the arrows whistled past us, and one wounded the Nuwab's horse slightly in the neck, at which the Gonds set up a shout of triumph. "Ah, my poor Motee, thou art wounded," cried he, drawing the arrow from the wound. "Meer Sahib, those rogues will never come down; you had better give them a volley and disperse them." "Now, my sons," cried I to my followers, "whenever a fellow raises his body to fire, do you mark him." They did so. One Gond in particular, who was sitting on a rock drawing a large bow, which he placed against his feet, was a conspicuous object, and apparently careless of his safety. Surfuraz Khan aimed at him--fired--and in an instant he rolled over and over, almost to our feet; the ball had hit him in the throat, and he was quite dead. The rest seeing his fate, set up loud yells, and for a moment we thought they would have charged us; however, another of their number fell badly wounded, and carrying him off, they rapidly retreated to their mountain fastnesses. Pursuit would have been vain as it was impracticable. We met with no further adventure during our march, and duly arrived at our stage by the usual hour. "Ameer Ali," said my father, coming to me shortly afterwards, "is the Nuwab to be ours or not? If you have invited him as a guest, say so? if not, you had better arrange something." "A guest!" cried I; "oh no: he must be disposed of; there can be no difficulty where there so many good places to destroy him." "Impossible!" said my father; "on horseback it would be madness. He is a beautiful rider, and his horse is too spirited; the least confusion would make him bound, and who could hold him? We must devise some other plan." "Leave all to me," said I; "if there is no absolute necessity for selecting a place, I will watch my opportunity." CHAPTER XXIV. "I suppose you have long ere this guessed, my friends," said I to Bhudrinath and Surfuraz Khan next day, "why the Nuwab is in our company."