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

      They saw one of the scouts advance from under the cover of some of the houses, and pull violently at one of the projecting rude rafters; and instantly the flame appear beneath.

      ‘Another pull, good fellow, and thou hast earned five rupees!’ cried the Khan in an ecstasy, as he held the butt of the wall-piece; ‘another pull, and we shall have a blaze like day.’

      It seemed as if the fellow had heard the Khan’s exclamation, for he tugged in very desperation; they heard the roof crack; at last it fell in; and the sudden blaze, illuminating all around vividly, fell on the wild yet picturesque group which was rapidly advancing over the open space before the village.

CHAPTER VII.

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      The Mahratta horsemen did not perceive the snare which had been laid for them: they concluded that the fire was accidental (and opportune, since it showed them the way to their plunder), and on they came at a fast gallop—fifty perhaps: wild figures they would have been deemed at any time—how much more so when, brandishing their long spears, and with loud shouts, they dashed forward! The light shone broad on their muffled faces and on the gay red housings of their saddles, and glanced from their spear-points and other weapons.

      ‘Hurree Bōl!’ cried the leader to his men, turning round on his saddle, waving his sword, which all could see was dim with blood.

      ‘Hurree! Hurree Bōl!’ arose the cry from fifty hoarse voices, which mingled with the quick trampling of the horses.

      ‘Now!’ cried the Khan.

      ‘Wait one instant, for the sake of Alla!—let them come up,’ exclaimed Kasim.

      They were close to the burning hut, when Kasim, whose matchlock had been steadily aimed, resting upon the parapet, fired. The leader reeled back in his saddle, waved his sword wildly in the air, and fell.

      ‘Bismilla-ir-ruhman-ir—!’ shouted the Khan; the rest of the invocation being lost in the loud report of the cannon. With it were the flashes and reports of a dozen other matchlocks; and as the smoke cleared away, they could plainly see four of the men on the ground struggling, and two or three others apparently badly hit supporting themselves in their saddles.

      ‘Give me another gun, another gun!’ cried Kasim; ‘there is no time to load. Another gun, I say! Will no one hand me one?’ he continued, vainly endeavouring to load his own quickly.

      ‘Do you not hear?’ exclaimed a female voice near him; and as he turned to look, he saw a figure snatch one from a villager, and hand it to him: as she did so, her veil dropped—it was Ameena!

      ‘Come on, ye base born!’ cried the Khan, who was pointing the remaining jinjall at the group, which, staggered by their loss, had halted for a moment. ‘Come on, ye sons of dogs—come on ye kafirs and idol-worshippers—come and taste of death from the hands of true believers! Ha! do ye hesitate? then ye shall have it again, by Alla!’ and he fired. ‘Look you, Meer Sahib,’ he cried in exultation; ‘two are down—another! by the Prophet, well shot!’

      ‘Here is another gun, Meer Sahib,’ said the same sweet voice; and the lady handed him one.

      ‘What, thou here, my pearl! Shabash! thou shouldst have shot too if thou couldst hit. So, thou wouldst not remain below; no wonder, with those screaming women: and thou art welcome here too, if thou darest to look on, and see those murdering villains go down like sparrows. Another, by Alla! See, the dog fairly rolls over and over! Why do ye not come, O valiant eaters of dirt? By your souls, come on—we have more for ye!’

      ‘They have had enough, I think, Khan,’ said Kasim; ‘they are drawing off.’

      And they were indeed. The plundering band, unprovided with matchlocks, could make little impression on a village so well defended, and hastily turned about their horses; those who had remained below were informed of this by the Patél, who had descended; and, led by him, quickly advanced to the edge of the village, from whence they could fire without exposing themselves.

      ‘Who will strike a blow with Kasim Patél?’ cried the youth, who was not now to be controlled. ‘Come, who will?—there are the horses saddled below.’

      In vain was it that the Khan held him for an instant, and he heard the voice of gentle entreaty from the lady: he hurried down the steps, followed by several of the Khan’s men, and throwing themselves on their horses they dashed after the fugitives.

      They soon cleared the village, and what followed was intensely watched by the Khan and Ameena.

      ‘Holy Alla, protect the youth!’ ejaculated the lady.

      ‘Ameen!’ cried the Khan; ‘look! he is upon them now, and Dilawur-Ali, Moedeen, and Fazel after him. See—one goes down beneath that cut!’ for they saw the sword of Kasim flash in the light. ‘He is by another; the fellow cuts at him. Well parried, by the Prophet! now give it him! A curse on the darkness,’ he continued after a pause, as, shading his eyes with his hand, he endeavoured to pierce the thick gloom. ‘Canst thou see, Ameena?’

      ‘No, my lord. I lost him as you did—Alla be his shield!’

      ‘To be sure he is: what could those cowards do against such an arm and such a heart? I tell thee, girl, we had eaten dirt but for him.’

      Ameena sighed; she remembered the excited cries of the young man and his flashing eyes, as she handed him the gun. ‘He is a brave youth,’ she said.

      A few scattered shots here and there, which were further and further removed every moment, showed that the marauders were retreating, and soon the men began to return one by one; in a few minutes they saw Kasim Ali and his companions approaching quietly, which assured them there was no more danger, and that the party had retired beyond the limits of safe pursuit.

      ‘Come down and meet them, fairest,’ said the Khan; ‘they who have fought so well for us deserve a warm welcome.’

      As Kasim and his companions rode up, they were greeted with hearty congratulations on their success, and all crowded round him so thickly, that he had much ado to force his way to where the Khan stood. But he reached him after some little elbowing and good-humoured remonstrance; and just at that moment, a torch which had been lighted was raised above the heads of the crowd; it disclosed his figure, apparently covered with blood.

      ‘Holy Alla, he is wounded!’ exclaimed the lady; ‘he will bleed to death!’ and she moved as though she would have advanced.

      ‘Tut, tut, foolish one!’ cried the Khan, holding her back; ‘it ought to be gladness to thee to see the blood of thine enemies and mine. Thou art not hurt, Kasim?’

      ‘A trifle, I believe, Khan—a slight wound on my chest from one of the rascals, which hath bled somewhat and stained my clothes; but he paid dearly for the blood he drew.’

      ‘I’ll warrant he did; and as for thy wound, we must see to it. I have some skill in such matters, and perhaps the Khanum will be able to find an old sheet or something to tie it up. So sit down here; and do thou, Ameena, search for some rags. Well, so thou canst give an account of some of them, Kasim?’

      ‘Of two, Khan Sahib; one fellow I cut down as we started—he is living, I think—the other fought better.’

      ‘And is dead for his pains; well, I do not begrudge thee this cut, it will do thee no harm. See, here is the Khanum with the rags—never mind her, this is no time for ceremony with such as thou. Ho! Daood, Zoolficar, some water here! and do you, Kasim, take off that vest, we shall soon see what has happened. A trifle, a trifle, after all. Alla be praised!’ he continued, when the garment was removed, and the broad and muscular chest of the young man exposed to view; ‘a few days will heal it up.’

      But Ameena thought otherwise; she had heard of wounds, but this was the first she had seen; and a gash which, though not deep, extended half across the chest of the young