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
"Don't fire, Surajah," Dick said. "They will have heard, from the man
who has got away, that we are in the house opposite, and if they don't
find us there, they will think that we have gone on, and will ride
down the valley till they are sure they must be ahead of us. Then they
will search the ground carefully, as they come back, and altogether we
may gain an hour; and every moment is of use. It must be two o'clock
now, and our troop generally gets here soon after seven."
As he spoke, the horsemen drew up in front of the opposite hut. There
was a momentary pause, and then a voice said:
"It is empty."
Then followed the command:
"Ride on, men. They can't have got very far. We shall overtake them in
ten minutes."
As soon as they started, Dick said:
"Take a ramrod, Surajah, and make some holes through the walls, to
fire through. If we were to show ourselves at the windows, we might
get shot."
The walls were built of mud and clay, and with the iron ramrods they
had no difficulty in making four holes, an inch wide and two inches
high, on each side of the house.
"Now we are ready for them," Dick said, when they had finished. "They
have been gone half an hour, and it won't be long before they are
back."
In a few minutes, they heard the clatter of horses' hoofs. It ceased
some forty or fifty yards away, and by the sound of voices and orders,
it was evident that the other houses were being searched. Voices were
also heard at the back of the house, and they guessed that the ground
was being closely examined, up to the foot of the rock walls which
enclosed the valley.
"Now, Surajah, you can take a shot from the window of that side. The
others will be here in a minute, and it is just as well to let them
know where we are, before they get close up to our door."
Surajah went to the window at the back. Four horsemen were making
their way, at a walk, along the level ground between the rocks and the
huts. The nearest was but some forty yards away. Surajah fired, and
the man at once fell from his horse. The others instantly galloped on
at full speed up the valley, and from the window at the end, Surajah
saw them gather on the road three or four hundred yards away; and
then, after a short consultation, cross to the other side of the
valley, with the intention, he had no doubt, of rejoining their
comrades.
The sound of the gun had been followed by shouts and exclamations from
the party in the village. Dick could hear a conference in low tones;
then all was silent. He went to the loophole at the corner, laid his
rifle in it, and waited, looking along the barrel. Two or three
minutes later the hole was darkened, and he fired at once. There was a
sound of a heavy fall, followed by cries of rage, and a moment later
there was a rush of men against the door.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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