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
"It does not make much difference. If you had hit him, they could have
sent another off close to the opposite side of the valley. There is no
doubt as to what he has gone for. You see, they have lost six killed
and one wounded, and they must know that they have not the slightest
chance of taking this hut. I have no doubt that he has ridden back to
bring down the infantry from the fort. From the number of huts round
the gate, and the sound of talking, I should think there were fifty or
sixty at least--perhaps a hundred.
"If they send down fifty, we shall have sharp work. Our difficulty
will be to prevent them from making a rush at all the windows
together. If they were to get there, they could riddle us with balls."
"Could we block them up, Sahib?"
"That is just what I was thinking," Dick replied. "We might try,
anyhow. It will be an hour and a half before they are down here. It
must be past four now, and in another hour daylight will begin to
break.
"There is any amount of the old thatch down on the floor. The best way
would be to fill up the window holes with it first, then to put two or
three bits of wood across, and a strong piece down behind it, and to
keep that in its place by wedging one of the long beams against it. If
they came up and tried to pull the thatch out, we could fire through
it with our pistols; and we will make a loophole below each when we
have got the work done."
It was not so difficult a business as they thought it would be. The
windows were little more than a foot across and two feet high. It was
but the work of a few minutes to fill these up with the masses of
thatch. When this was done, they picked out thick pieces of wood for
crossbars. Then they took a beam, eight feet long, made a hole with
their tulwars in the clay floor close to the wall, put one end of the
beam into it, and reared it upright against the window. Dick held it
in its place, while Surajah hacked a deep notch in it--a by no means
difficult matter, for it was half rotten with exposure.
The notch was cut just opposite the middle of the window. The three
crosspieces were then put into their place, and the upright pressed
firmly against them. One end of a long beam was placed in the notch,
the other in a slight hole made in the ground, thus forming a strut,
which held the rest firmly in their positions.
"That is a good job done," Dick said, "but a very hot one. Now,
Surajah, sharpen three or four pieces of wood, and drive them down
into the ground at the foot of that strut; then it will be as firm as
a rock."
They then proceeded, in the same way, with the other two windows.
"It is getting light fast," Dick said, as he wiped the perspiration
from his face. "Take a look out up the valley. They ought to be coming
by this time."
Surajah applied his eye to one of the loopholes.
"I can see them," he said. "They are half a mile away. There are two
mounted men. I expect one is their officer, and the other the man who
rode back to fetch them."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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