With Clive in India; Or, The Beginnings of an EmpireHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
History
With Clive in India; Or, The Beginnings of an Empire
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
India -- History -- British occupation, 1765-1947 -- Fiction
"I should say, today let the men repose as much as possible; keep the
sentries on the gates and walls, but otherwise let them all have
absolute quiet. You can tell the whites, and I will let the Sepoys
know, that they will have to be in readiness all night, and that they
had better, therefore, sleep as much as possible today. We will take
it by turns to be on duty, one going round the walls and seeing that
the sentries are vigilant, while the others sit in the shade and doze
off, if they can. We must all three keep on the alert, during the
night."
Doctor Rae said that he, himself, would see that all went well for the
first four hours, after which Charlie should go on duty; and the two
subalterns accordingly made themselves as comfortable as they could in
their quarters, which were high up in the fort, and possessed a window
looking over the surrounding country.
"Well, Tim, what is the matter with you?" they asked that soldier, as
he came in with an earthenware jar of water, which he placed to cool
in the window. "You look pale."
"And it's pale I feel, your honor, with the life frightened fairly out
of me, a dozen times a day. It was bad enough on the march, but this
place just swarms with horrible reptiles. Shure an' it's a pity that
the holy Saint Patrick didn't find time to pay a visit to India. If
he'd driven the varmint into the sea for them, as he did in Ireland,
the whole population would have become Christians, out of pure
gratitude. Why, yer honor, in the cracks and crevices of the stones of
this ould place there are bushels and bushels of 'em. There are things
they call centipades, with a million legs on each side of them, and
horns big enough to frighten ye; of all sizes up to as long as my hand
and as thick as my finger; and they say that a bite from one of them
will put a man in a raging fever, and maybe kill him. Then there are
scorpions, the savagest looking little bastes ye ever saw, for all the
world like a little lobster with his tail turned over his back, and a
sting at the end of it. Then there's spiders, some of 'em nigh as big
as a cat."
"Oh, nonsense, Tim!" Charlie said; "I don't think, from what I've
heard, that there's a spider in India whose body is as big as a
mouse."
"It isn't their body, yer honor. It's their legs. They're just cruel
to look at. It was one of 'em that gave me a turn, a while ago. I was
just lying on my bed smoking my pipe, when I saw one of the creatures
(as big as a saucer, I'll take my oath) walking towards me with his
wicked eye fixed full on me. I jumped off the bed and on to a bench
that stood handy.
"'What are ye yelling about, Tim Kelly?' said Corporal Jones to me.
"'Here's a riotous baste here, corporal,' says I, 'that's meditating
an attack on me.'
"'Put your foot on it, man,' says he.
"'It's mighty fine,' says I, 'and I in my bare feet.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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