Gil the Gunner: The Youngest Officer in the EastFenn, George Manville
General
Gil the Gunner: The Youngest Officer in the East
Fenn, George Manville
Great Britain. Army -- Colonial forces -- India -- Juvenile fiction; Young men -- Juvenile fiction
"I am to attend on my lord," he said deprecatingly, "not to bear news.
If I told my lord all I knew to-day, I should have no head to tell him
anything to-morrow."
I was in the territory of a rajah who did as he pleased with his people,
and I did not wonder at Salaman's obstinate silence any more.
So there I was with my plans almost in the same state as on my first day
at the palace. There were the curtains waiting to be turned into ropes;
there were the servants with their white garments; but I had no walnuts,
and I knew of nothing that would stain my skin; and I was beginning to
despair, when a trifling thing sent a flash of hope through me, and told
me that I was not forsaken.
It was one hot day when everything was still but the flies, which were
tormenting in the extreme; and, after trying first one room and then the
other, I was about to go and lie down in the place set apart for my bath
as being the coolest spot there was, when I heard a dull thud apparently
in the next room where I had been sitting at the window, and I was about
to go and see what it was, but stooped down first to pick up my
handkerchief which had fallen.
I was in the act of recovering it, when I heard a faint rustling sound,
and knew what that was directly--Salaman looking in from behind the
curtain to see if anything was wrong.
Apparently satisfied, he drew back, and a splashing sound drew me to the
window.
That sound was explained directly, for just below me a couple of
bheesties, as they are called, were bending low beneath the great
water-skins they carried upon their backs, while each held one of the
legs of the animal's skin, which had been formed into a huge
water-bladder, and was directing from it a tiny spout which flashed in
the sun as he gave it a circular motion by a turn of his wrist, and
watered the heated marble floor of the court, forming a ring or
chain-like pattern as he went on.
It was something to look at, and the smell of the water on the stones
was pleasant; so I stayed there watching the two men, one of whom took
the side of the court beyond the fountain, the other coming almost
beneath my window.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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