In Times of Peril: A Tale of IndiaHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
History
In Times of Peril: A Tale of India
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
India -- History -- Sepoy Rebellion, 1857-1858 -- Juvenile fiction
"You see I wanted to get the trap as far away as possible before the
horse fell," Captain Dunlop said. "We did not know how severely wounded
the major was; indeed, we both feared he was killed; but the mutineers,
when they found the dead horse in the morning, were certain to make a
search in its neighbourhood, and would have found your father had he
been close by laid up with a wound."
"Happily I now began to come to," the major went on, continuing his
story. "The ball was nearly spent, and had given me a nasty scalp
wound, and had stunned me, but I now began to come round. The instant I
was able to understand where I was or what had happened, Dunlop and
Manners, who were half-wild with excitement and grief, made me promise
to lie quiet, while they went back to see what had become of you all.
Of course I consented. They were away about three hours, for they had
to make a circle of the cantonments, as our bungalow was quite at the
other end. They brought cheering news. They had first been to the
house, and found it utterly destroyed as they expected. That told them
nothing; for if you had been killed, your bodies would probably have
been burned with the house. Then they went out to the tope of trees
where it was agreed that you should, if possible, first fly. Here they
found a pocket-handkerchief of Rose's; and going round to the other
side, found by the marks upon the soil that four of you had started
together. With hearts immensely lightened by the discovery that you
had, at any rate, all escaped from the first massacre, they hurried
back to gladden me with the news. I was past understanding it when they
arrived, for the intense pain in my head and my terrible anxiety about
you had made me delirious. It would have been certain death to stay so
near the road, so they dipped their handkerchiefs in water, and tied
them round my head; and then supporting me, one on each side, they
half-dragged, half-carried, me to a deserted and half-ruinous cottage,
about a mile away.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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