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 the house where we had our fight, Surajah," Dick said, as
they reached the ruined village. "Though there is peace now, I fancy
we should not get much farther than that fort ahead, if they guessed
that we were the fellows who gave them such trouble, two years and a
half ago."
"There is no fear of our being recognised," Surajah said. "The guard
has probably been changed, long ago. Besides, they never once caught
sight of our faces."
"Oh, no; we are safe enough," Dick agreed. "If I had not been sure of
that, we would have gone up one of the passes to the south, that has
been ceded to us, though it would have been a great deal longer round
to Bangalore--unless, indeed, we had gone by Kistnagherry, and that
would have been too dangerous to attempt, for the officers on the
frontier would probably have recognised us."
It was late in the afternoon before they arrived at the gate. It stood
open, and there was no sentry on duty. A few soldiers could be seen,
loitering about in the street; but it was evident that, now the war
was over and everything finally settled, it was considered that all
occasion for vigilance was at an end.
Upon making inquiries, they soon found a house where they could put up
for the night. They had, as is the custom in India, brought their
provisions with them, and after leaving their goods in the house, and
seeing that the horse was fed, Ibrahim set to work to cook a meal;
while the others opened one of the packs, and went round the village,
where they disposed of a few small articles.
They arrived, without any adventure, at Bangalore. There, as soon as
they had established themselves at one of the caravansaries for
travellers, Dick and Surajah went to the house of the trader to whom
Pertaub had promised to consign their goods.
"We have come for some packs, that have been sent by friends of ours
at Seringapatam to your care," Dick said, making as he spoke the sign
that Pertaub had taught him, as enabling those who were Hindoos to
recognise each other, at once. "We were to use the word 'Madras' as a
sign that we were the parties to whom they were consigned."
"The goods arrived a week ago," the trader said, "and are lying for
you at my warehouse. I will hand them over to you, tomorrow morning."
"Thank you. We may not come early, for we have to purchase two pack
horses to carry them, and three tats for ourselves and our man. This
may take us some time, and it will be, perhaps, better for us to come
to you early the next morning, and we can then start away direct."
This was arranged, and on the following day, two strong animals were
bought for the packs; and three tats, or ponies, for their own riding.
Dick had disposed of the horse he had ridden down to Tripataly for a
good price, and had also been supplied with funds by his mother,
although, as he said, the contents of their packs ought to suffice to
pay all their expenses, for a long time.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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