The Tiger of Mysore: A Story of the War with Tippoo Saib — John Shaqi
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
"There is no saying, lad, no saying at all. All I know is that your
father, the captain, was washed ashore at the same time as I was. As
you have heard me say, I owed my life to him. I was pretty nigh gone
when I caught sight of him, holding on to a spar. Spent as I was, I
managed to give a shout loud enough to catch his ear. He looked round.
I waved my hand and shouted, 'Goodbye, Captain!' Then I sank lower and
lower, and felt that it was all over, when, half in a dream, I heard
your father's voice shout, 'Hold on, Ben!' I gave one more struggle,
and then I felt him catch me by the arm. I don't remember what
happened, until I found myself lashed to the spar beside him.
"'That is right, Ben,' he said cheerily, as I held up my head; 'you
will do now. I had a sharp tussle to get you here, but it is all
right. We are setting inshore fast. Pull yourself together, for we
shall have a rough time of it in the surf. Anyhow, we will stick
together, come what may.'
"As the waves lifted us up, I saw the coast, with its groves of
coconuts almost down to the water's edge, and white sheets of surf
running up high on the sandy beach. It was not more than a hundred
yards away, and the captain sang out,
"'Hurrah! There are some natives coming down. They will give us a
hand.'
"Next time we came up on a wave, he said, 'When we get close, Ben, we
must cut ourselves adrift from this spar, or it will crush the life
out of us; but before we do that, I will tie the two of us together.'
"He cut a bit of rope from the raffle hanging from the spar, and tied
one end round my waist and the other round his own, leaving about five
fathoms loose between us.
"'There,' he shouted in my ear. 'If either of us gets chucked well up,
and the natives get a hold of him, the other must come up, too. Now
mind, Ben, keep broadside on to the wave if you can, and let it roll
you up as far as it will take you. Then, when you feel that its force
is spent, stick your fingers and toes into the sand, and hold on like
grim death.'
"Well, we drifted nearer and nearer until, just as we got to the point
where the great waves tumbled over, the captain cut the lashings and
swam a little away, so as to be clear of the spar. Then a big wave
came towering up. I was carried along like a straw in a whirlpool.
Then there was a crash that pretty nigh knocked the senses out of me.
I do not know what happened afterwards. It was a confusion of white
water rushing past and over me. Then for a moment I stopped, and at
once made a clutch at the ground that I had been rolling over. There
was a big strain, and I was hauled backwards as if a team of wild
horses were pulling at me. Then there was a jerk, and I knew nothing
more, till I woke up and found myself on the sands, out of reach of
the surf.
"Your father did not come to for half an hour. He had been hurt a bit
worse than I had, but at last he came round.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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