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
They agreed, therefore, that the escape must be made over the
precipice. That this was a matter of great difficulty was evident from
the fact that the captain had made no attempt to get away in that
manner. Still, there was hope that, with the assistance of the silk
rope Dick had brought with them, it might be managed.
There was, too, the initial difficulty of getting out from the fort to
be faced.
"We can do nothing, till we have had a long talk with my father," Dick
said. "I have no doubt that he has thought all these things over, and
has, long before this, made up his mind as to the point at which a
descent would be easiest. As at present we know little, except by the
casual examination we made last time, we can decide on nothing by
ourselves."
"I hope it won't be a long way to let oneself down," Surajah said,
"for I am quite sure I could not hold on, by that thin rope, for any
distance."
"Nor could I, Surajah, if I had to trust only to my hands. My father,
as a sailor, will be able to put us up to the best way to do it. But
at any rate, he might let you down first; and I think that by twisting
the rope two or three times round my body, and then holding it between
my knees and feet, I might manage. But I dare say my father will hit
on some better plan than that.
"And now we will lie down. I am so stiff that I can hardly stand, from
squatting for so many hours behind those things of ours. I thought
that I had got pretty well accustomed to it, but I never calculated on
having to do it from ten in the morning until ten at night, with only
two half-hours off."
Dick, however, had little sleep that night. He was too excited over
the glorious success he had obtained to be capable of closing an eye,
and it was not until day was breaking that he fell into a doze.
An hour later, he started to his feet at a knock at the door. He was
wide awake in a moment, and on running to it, his father entered.
"You look older today than you did yesterday," the latter said, as he
held his hand and gazed into Dick's face. "I fancy that neither of us
has had any sleep to speak of. As for myself, I have not closed an
eye."
"Nor did I, Father, until day began to break. Now please, let us talk
over our plan of escape first, for we may be interrupted at any
moment."
"Right you are, lad. Does your friend here speak English? For I have
never got to be a good hand at their lingo. I want to thank him, too,
but as you say, time is precious, and we must postpone that."
"He understands it, Father, and can talk it pretty fairly. We have
been constantly together for nearly two years.
"Now, in the first place, is there any place where we can get down
from the top here, with the aid of a rope?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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