The Tiger of Mysore: A Story of the War with Tippoo SaibHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
History
The Tiger of Mysore: A Story of the War with Tippoo Saib
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
India -- History -- Mysore War, 1799 -- Fiction; Tipu Sultan, Fath 'Ali, Nawab of Mysore, 1753-1799 -- Juvenile fiction
"I could not sleep, thinking of you, Sahib," the latter said, as they
came up. "So I came across here, partly to help you dig up the
caskets, and partly that I might see you, and assure myself that, so
far, all had gone well."
"Thank you, Pertaub. You have, I see, brought a pickaxe. It will save
us half an hour's work; and besides, I am glad to say goodbye again.
"All has gone well. This is the young lady."
"She is well disguised," Pertaub said, bowing his head to Annie. "She
looks so like a boy that, even now you tell me, I can scarce believe
she is a white girl. Truly you can go on without fear that anyone will
suspect her."
Leading the way to the spot where the caskets had been buried, Dick
looked on while Surajah and Ibrahim dug them up. They were then
wrapped up in rugs, and strapped securely behind their owners'
saddles. Then, after a warm adieu to the kind old man, they turned
their horses' heads, and rode back out of the woods.
After riding for three hours at a canter, Dick saw that, although
Annie still spoke cheerfully, her strength was failing her, and on
arriving at a wood, he said:
"We will wait here till the heat of the sun has abated. We have done
very well, and the horses, as well as ourselves, will be glad of a few
hours' rest."
He alighted from the saddle, gave his horse to Ibrahim, and then
lifted Annie from her seat. As he set her down on her feet, and loosed
his hold of her, she slipped down on to the ground. Dick and Surajah
at once raised her, and placed her so that, as she sat, she could lean
against a tree.
Here Dick supported her, while Surajah ran and fetched his water
bottle. Annie drank a little, and then said, with a nervous laugh:
"It is very silly of me. But I feel better now. My legs seemed to give
way, altogether."
"It was not silly at all," Dick said. "You have held on most bravely.
I can tell you there are not many girls who would have ridden four or
five and twenty miles, the first time they sat on a horse. Why, I can
tell you the first time I mounted, I did not do a quarter as much, and
I was so stiff I could hardly walk, when I got down. I should have
stopped before, but you kept talking so cheerfully that, it seemed to
me, you could not be anything like as tired as I was, then. I was a
brute not to have known that you must be thoroughly done up, although
you did not say so.
"We have got some food with us. Do you think you could eat, a little?"
She shook her head.
"Not just yet."
"All right. I have brought a couple of bottles of wine I got at one of
the traders' stores, yesterday. You must take a sip of that, and then
we will leave you to yourself for a bit, and you must lie down and
have a good nap."
Dick took a bottle from his holster, opened it, and gave her some in a
tin cup. Then one of the rugs was spread on the ground, with another
one rolled up as a pillow, and then they led the horses farther into
the wood, leaving Annie to herself.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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