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'll tell you. It was a last resource; and though the men grumbled,
they lifted the dhooly, and I marched by the side. The next minute we
were stopped."
"Well?"
"Hang him!" cried the doctor; "he began to curse them in Hindustani for
stopping his gharry, ordered them to let his servants go by, and the
idiots took it that a complete change had come over the state of
affairs; that Dost must have turned rajah, and was using the English as
his slaves. So they all shouted with delight, let us pass, and here we
are, thanks to Rajah Dost."
"Then, now for our start," said Brace, "unless it would be wiser to stay
here till morning, Dost must go out and try and obtain news of the
women."
"No, no, sahib," cried the Hindu, excitedly. "By daylight all the
budmashes of the city will be up here to plunder and burn."
"Do you hear, Haynes?" said Brace, bitterly. "They may bring the
punishment upon themselves."
"I have thought of the mem sahib, master," continued Dost, "and one of
the women will try and learn news for us. She will find it better than
I could."
"You are right," said Brace; and giving orders for the horses to be led
in the rear, he placed himself at the head of our little column, gave
the word march, and we filed out of the gate, Dost leading through the
silent lanes of the city, and then round below its walls to the bridge
of boats, which was passed without our having encountered a soul.
In our helpless state it was felt that we could do no better than to go
by Dost's advice, for he knew the country round, and suggested that we
should go on as rapidly as possible, so as to reach one of the patches
of forest which clothed the slopes of the valley side opposite the city
before daybreak.
"And when we are there?" asked Brace.
"We shall be within reach of the major sahib, and I can take the doctor
sahib over to him when it is night again."
"Very well," said Brace, thoughtfully.
Then, as if remembering the great aim he had in view--
"Did the scoundrels go up the valley toward the rajah's?"
"No, sahib; they brought the guns over the bridge, and some say they
have gone to Ramul."
"That is only a few miles away," said Brace, quickly, "and beyond the
hills. Forward, my lads. No speaking in the ranks."
We tramped on silently for a couple of hours with the night growing
darker as we went onward, the men literally reeling at times from
weariness and exhaustion after the terrible day.
All at once, one man fell out, and dropped upon the road side.
"Halt!" cried Brace, in a low voice.
"No, no, captain; keep on," said the man. "I'm dead beat. Never mind
me."
"We have no dhooly, my lad, to carry you, so we must wait till you can
walk, for we must hold together now to the last. Who is it?"
"Sergeant Craig, sir," said one of the men; and Brace hurried to his
side.
"Why, Craig, my poor fellow, this will not do."
As he spoke, the man who had thrown himself on the ground struggled to
his knees.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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