Jones of the 64th: A Tale of the Battles of Assaye and LaswareeBrereton, F. S. (Frederick Sadleir)
General
Jones of the 64th: A Tale of the Battles of Assaye and Laswaree
Brereton, F. S. (Frederick Sadleir)
Maratha War, 1803 -- Juvenile fiction
"Mulha has carried out his plan," he shouted. "At them, Jack. Strike as
hard as you can."
There followed a desperate struggle, during which sticks rose and fell,
while the gleaming blades held by the pirates darted this way and that.
But the length of the cudgels proved an enormous advantage, and when to
that was added the sudden appearance of Mulha, and the need for
defending themselves in front and rear, it was not wonderful that the
rascals aboard gave way. In a few moments four of them lay stretched
senseless on the deck, while beneath the rail grovelled the huge ruffian
whom Owen had brought down, still hugging his shins, for one was broken.
Numbers were more evenly divided now, and the efforts of all three soon
ended the matter. Mulha lifted his club as a man dashed in upon him, and
leaping aside to avoid the blow, brought the heavy stake with a terrific
crash down on the pirate's back, breaking it instantly. Then Jack and
Owen rushed at the others, their clubs whirling, and, struck with terror
at the lot which had fallen to their comrades, these remaining pirates
raced away for their lives and leaped over the side.
"Dowse that flare," commanded Owen instantly. "But wait. Look at these
fellows, Mulha."
"This man is dead, sahib. I hit with all my might, and struck him on the
broad of the back. He is no further use to us or to his own comrades. He
shall join those who have just left us."
Very calmly Mulha stood over the native and carefully inspected him, to
make sure that he was dead. Then as Jack picked up the flare, which had
fallen to the deck and lay there spluttering, he gripped the body with
both hands and tossed it overboard; for this native was a powerful
fellow, tall and supple, with wiry limbs which would have tired the
muscles of many a man of finer development.
"The others are alive, but helpless for the moment, sahib," he went on,
turning to Owen. "Shall they follow? In the sea they will be out of
harm's way, and if we take them they will surely be hanged."
"Leave them. Perhaps the information to be obtained from them will prove
valuable. Now, dowse the light."
Mulha took the stick upon which it was supported and tossed it over the
side. Then for one second he disappeared, swarming over the rail, to
reappear within a minute.
"The boat may still be required, sahibs," he said, with a grave smile.
"There is water in the bottom, but not sufficient to matter. The sea is
calm, and therefore I have only made the rope fast. She can tow as we
sail. Shall we hoist the sails?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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