Tippoo Sultaun: A tale of the Mysore war. Taylor Meadows

of our horse hereabouts to check them, and indeed I marvel that the rogues dare venture so far into Tippoo’s country.’ ‘If it were day we could see their number,’ replied Kasim; ‘as it is, we must take heart—Inshalla! our destiny is not so bad as to cause us to eat dirt at the hands of those thieves.’

      ‘If I were alone, Kasim, I tell thee I would now put myself at the head of ye all, and we would reconnoitre that village; perhaps it may only have been a chance fire after all.’

      But soon after, one or two persons mounted on ponies arrived, bringing the news that their village had been attacked in the evening; and that, after the robbers had taken all they could, they had set fire to several houses and gone off in a southerly direction—it was supposed towards Gootee.

      ‘Our very road!’ said the Khan; ‘but let us not fear: we had better travel on slowly, for it is probable that they have hastened on, and long ere this are beyond the pass. In that case there is but little fear of our overtaking them.’

      ‘I will stand by you and the Khanum to the death,’ said Kasim, ‘and that thou well knowest. They said there were not more than fifty fellows, and I dare say their fears exaggerated them one-half at least. But if I might suggest anything, I would bring to your consideration the propriety of hiring a few young fellows from this village; they will be able to protect the baggage, and at least assist us should there be any danger.’

      ‘A good thought, Kasim; see thou to it when the dawn breaks—nay now, if thou canst find any. I will remain here and watch.’

      Kasim descended the tower, and at the foot found some of the very men he wanted; they were half-naked figures, sitting around the fire they had kindled; their heavy matchlocks leaned against the wall, and their waists were girded round with powder-horns, small pouches filled with balls, and other matters necessary for their use. There were two or three armed with swords and shields, and the whole group had a wild and picturesque appearance, as the fire, upon which they had thrown some straw at the young man’s approach, blazed up, illuminating the foot of the tower and the house near it, and causing the shadows of the men to dance about in distorted figures. Two or three were sitting upon their hams, between whom a coarse hooka went its round, and was every now and then replenished; whilst the rest stood warming themselves over the blaze, or lounged about at no great distance.

      ‘Salaam Aliekoom!’ said Kasim, as he approached them; ‘say which among you is the chief?’

      ‘Aliekoom salaam!’ returned one, advancing. ‘I am the Naik of these worthy men. Say what you want; command us—we are your servants. What see ye from the tower?’

      ‘Nothing but the blazing village,’ said Kasim.

      ‘The fellows have not left a roof-tree standing, they say,’ rejoined the Naik; ‘but the place was not defended, for the young men were all absent; and it is supposed the Mahrattas had news of this before they attacked it—they are arrant cowards.’

      ‘You have found them so, then?’

      ‘We have; we have twice beaten them off during the last few days, and killed one or two of them.’

      ‘Mashalla! thou art a sharp fellow; what do they call thee?’

      ‘Nursingha is my name; I am the nephew of the Patél.’

      ‘Good! Then what sayest thou, Nursingha, to accompanying our party for a few days, until we are well past the hills, or indeed to Balapoor; thou shalt have a rupee a-day and thy food, and six of thy men half, if thou wilt.’

      ‘What say you, brothers?’ cried Nursingha to the rest; ‘what say you to the stranger’s offer? They seem men of substance, and they are the Government servants—we can hardly refuse.’

      ‘What are we to do?’ asked one.

      ‘Fight, if there is necessity,’ said Kasim; ‘canst thou do that?’

      ‘There is not a better shot in the Carnatic that Lingoo yonder,’ said the Naik.

      ‘He may shoot well and not fight well,’ returned Kasim.

      ‘I never feared Moosulman or Mahratta yet!’ said Lingoo.

      ‘Crowed like a good cock!’ cried Kasim; ‘but thou art on thine own dunghill.’

      ‘I have fought with Hyder Ali many a time; and he who has done that may call himself a soldier,’ retorted Lingoo.

      ‘Well, so much the better; but say, what will ye do? here are ten or twelve; half that number is enough to protect the village, especially as the Mahrattas are gone on; will ye come?’

      ‘Pay us half our due here first,’ said the man, ‘and we are ready—six of us. Have I said well, brethren?’

      ‘Ay, that is it,’ cried several. ‘How know we that the gentlemen would not take us on, and send us back empty-handed, as the last did?’

      ‘By Alla, that was shameful!’ cried Kasim; ‘fear not, ye shall have half your money.’

      ‘Kasim, O Kasim Ali!’ cried a voice from the top of the tower, interrupting him—it was the Khan’s, and he spoke hurriedly—‘Kasim, come up quickly!’

      ‘Holy Prophet, what can it be?’ said Kasim, turning to the tower, followed by several of the men. They were soon at the summit.

      ‘What see you yonder?’ asked the Khan, pointing to a light which was apparently not very far off.

      ‘It is only a watchfire in the fields of the next village,’ said the Naik. But as he spoke there broke forth a blaze of brilliant light, which at once shot up to the heavens, illuminating a few clouds that were floating gently along, apparently near the earth.

      ‘That is no watchfire,’ cried Kasim, as it increased in volume every moment; ‘it is either a house which has accidentally caught fire, or the Mahrattas are there. Watch, all of ye; if there are horsemen, the light will soon show them.’

      ‘There again!’ exclaimed several at once, as a bright flame burst out from another corner of the village, and was followed by others, in various directions. ‘It must be the Mahrattas and yet none are seen!’

      ‘They are among the houses,’ said the Khan; ‘they will not come out till they are obliged.’

      He was right; for while all were watching anxiously the progress of the flames, which they could see spreading from house to house, there rushed forth in a tumultuous manner from the opposite side a body of perhaps twenty horsemen, whose long spears, the points of which every instant flashed through the gloom, proved them to be the Mahratta party.

      ‘Base sons of dogs!’ cried the Khan; ‘cowards, and sons of impure mothers!—to attack defenceless people in that way!—to burn their houses over their heads at night! Oh for a score of my own risala—ay, for as many more as we are now, and those rogues should pay dearly for this!’

      ‘Who will follow Kasim Ali?’ cried the young man. ‘By the soul of the Prophet, we are no thieves, and our hearts are strong. I say one of us is a match for two of those cowards: who will follow me?’

      ‘I!’—‘and I!’—‘and I!’ cried several; and turned to follow the young man, who had his foot on the steps ready to descend.

      ‘Stop, I command you!’ cried the Khan; ‘this is no time to risk anything: look yonder—you thought there were but twenty; if there is one, there are more than fifty.’

      They looked again, and beheld a fearful sight. The now blazing village was upon a gentle slope, hardly a mile from them; the light caused the gloom of night to appear absolute darkness. In the midst of this there was one glowing spot, upon which every eye rested in intense anxiety. Around the ill-fated village was an open space, upon which bright ground were the dark figures of the Mahratta horsemen in constant motion; while the black forms of persons on foot—evidently the miserable inhabitants, in vain striving to escape—became, as they severally appeared, objects of fearful interest. Now many would rush from among