Jones of the 64th: A Tale of the Battles of Assaye and Laswaree

Without another word, but with a shout to encourage one another, they charged down the deck, swinging their clubs. And as they came the enemy prepared to meet them. The big man swept a clear patch about him, and drew a dagger, while the others lined across the deck, some armed with daggers, and others with native swords. Two had guns which they fired as the two white men approached, missing them narrowly.

Owen kept his club aloft till he was close to the big man. Then all of a sudden he ducked his head and shoulders, and as the man lifted his knife, thinking to ward off a blow made at his head, our hero's cudgel came with terrific force against his shins and knees. There was a howl of pain, and the man dropped like an ox which has been felled; then he crawled away, rubbing his limbs and evidently suffering considerably.

The sudden fall of their leader disconcerted the crowd for a few seconds, and they drew back. Then one of them raised a sudden shout, and those in rear turned round. Owen grasped the meaning of their action instantly.

"Mulha has carried out his plan," he shouted. "At them, Jack. Strike as hard as you can."

There followed a desperate struggle, during which sticks rose and fell, while the gleaming blades held by the pirates darted this way and that. But the length of the cudgels proved an enormous advantage, and when to that was added the sudden appearance of Mulha, and the need for defending themselves in front and rear, it was not wonderful that the rascals aboard gave way. In a few moments four of them lay stretched senseless on the deck, while beneath the rail grovelled the huge ruffian whom Owen had brought down, still hugging his shins, for one was broken. Numbers were more evenly divided now, and the efforts of all three soon ended the matter. Mulha lifted his club as a man dashed in upon him, and leaping aside to avoid the blow, brought the heavy stake with a terrific crash down on the pirate's back, breaking it instantly. Then Jack and Owen rushed at the others, their clubs whirling, and, struck with terror at the lot which had fallen to their comrades, these remaining pirates raced away for their lives and leaped over the side.

"Dowse that flare," commanded Owen instantly. "But wait. Look at these fellows, Mulha."

"This man is dead, sahib. I hit with all my might, and struck him on the broad of the back. He is no further use to us or to his own comrades. He shall join those who have just left us."

Very calmly Mulha stood over the native and carefully inspected him, to make sure that he was dead. Then as Jack picked up the flare, which had fallen to the deck and lay there spluttering, he gripped the body with both hands and tossed it overboard; for this native was a powerful fellow, tall and supple, with wiry limbs which would have tired the muscles of many a man of finer development.

"The others are alive, but helpless for the moment, sahib," he went on, turning to Owen. "Shall they follow? In the sea they will be out of harm's way, and if we take them they will surely be hanged."

"Leave them. Perhaps the information to be obtained from them will prove valuable. Now, dowse the light."

Mulha took the stick upon which it was supported and tossed it over the side. Then for one second he disappeared, swarming over the rail, to reappear within a minute.

"The boat may still be required, sahibs," he said, with a grave smile. "There is water in the bottom, but not sufficient to matter. The sea is calm, and therefore I have only made the rope fast. She can tow as we sail. Shall we hoist the sails?"

It was the only possible course for them to take, and fortunately on this craft there was no great difficulty; for she carried but one huge triangular sheet, the strangely shaped stretch of canvas with which so many Eastern boats are provided, and on this occasion the canvas had not been lowered but had been furled about the yard, the latter being left in position. Mulha went swarming up to it with the agility of a cat, and soon the folds were trailing near the deck. Owen took hold of the tiller, leaning heavily upon it, for his leg was strangely weak. As for Jack, he stood aside, leaving the sail to Mulha, well knowing that he himself would be in the way. And in a very short space of time, when the active Mulha had severed the hawser, they were moving, the wind had caught the sail, and the boat had listed to one side.

"Better get ready for the bombardment," laughed Jack some minutes later, as they stole silently through the water. "I'll load, and then if any of those beggars fire at us we shall be able to answer. I suppose she does not carry a cannon?"

He went off along the deck, while the thoughtful Mulha dived down below, returning shortly with some muskets, which, following Jack's example, he commenced to load. Then he went to the unconscious figures lying on the deck and dragged them to the foot of the mast.

"What if that big fellow with the broken shins chooses to give a shout?" asked Owen suddenly. "Of course, the pirates on shore and those at sea know or guess what has happened. That flare will have made everything as plain as possible. They'll be cruising up and down to catch us, and if that fellow cared he could bring them alongside."

"I will speak to him, Sahib," answered Mulha grimly. "He shall understand. Give me one of the guns."

He took the weapon from Jack, who stood near at hand. Then he went to the side of the wounded man and grasped him roughly by the shoulder. There was just sufficient light to see him, and out here on the water, where they were well away from overhanging trees, they could see far better than when on the land. As he stared at the two, Jack saw Mulha shake the man, and then raise his finger to his lips, at which the wounded pirate ceased his groans. Then very deliberately Mulha raised the musket, thrust the cold muzzle into the man's ear, causing him to sit transfixed with terror, and then lifted up a warning finger again. It was enough. The fellow groveled in the scuppers, and from that moment not a sound escaped him. As for the others, they showed as yet no signs of returning consciousness, so well and truly had the blows fallen.

"In an hour and a half we shall be clear of the bay," said Owen, who still clung to the tiller, for he had little fears of his powers of being able to sail the vessel. The wind happened to be in the right quarter, and he had handled a tiller before in Old England.

"What if some of those other craft get alongside and blaze at us?" he asked.

"We'll give them something back," answered Jack defiantly. "Run us in close to them, and Mulha and I will pepper them with the muskets."

"If we are not meanwhile blown to pieces with their guns," laughed Owen. "Keep a bright look-out, that's the best course, and run as far from them as possible. How's the time, do you think?"

"Couldn't say," responded his friend. "We might have put off hours ago. I've lost count of the time altogether."

So much had happened that it was not wonderful that it seemed to all three that they had left the shore some long while ago. But, as a matter of fact, it still wanted quite a little while before the moon would rise. And meanwhile they steered on their course, their bows pointed to the wide opening of the bay, and all eyes engaged in watching for the enemy. And presently the creak of a yard was heard, and some distance to their right, and nearer in shore, a huge indefinite shape swirled by and was gone, the creak, creak of the yard melting into silence as she increased her distance and ran on into the night. An hour passed, while the little vessel pressed on, the water churned to froth at her bows.

"We are in the open sea, or just at the mouth of the bay, Sahib," said Mulha. "I am sure of that, for there is a little roll, and in the bay there was none, only the wind listed us to one side. We must be very careful. At any moment we may run into the enemy. Then the moon will be up before very long."

A few minutes later, indeed, she came up from behind the high lands running parallel with the coast, and flooded bay and open sea. Almost instantly there was a shout from the three who manned the stolen vessel, a shout answered by a loud hail not far away. It was the Indiaman, under sail, and standing silently and very slowly across the mouth of the bay. They could see her very plainly, for the rays fell full upon her, and she was within an easy shot. At the shout they saw men rushing down the deck, and figures, strangely ghost-like in the silvery light, appeared from her hatches. Then a dull red flash spurted from her side, a puff of smoke belched into the night, and a ball, directed by no unskilled hand, hurtled across the water and hulled the little craft which was standing out of the bay. It was a fine shot, and brought a wild cheer from the deck of the Indiaman; but it had disastrous consequences, for it knocked a wide hole in the planks of the native vessel, through which the water poured in torrents.

"Ahoy! You're firing at friends! Ahoy there!"

Owen clambered with difficulty into the rigging, till he reached a spot where his figure stood sharply silhouetted against the moon behind. And there he waved his arms, while he hailed at the top of his voice. And evidently those aboard the Indiaman were not slow to discover their mistake. Another cheer rose from her deck, and a stout figure leapt on to the rail, and ascending a few rungs of the ladder hailed back in stentorian tones. Then came the splash of a boat, and within five minutes the ship's gig was pulling towards them.

"It will be touch and go yet," said Owen. "We'd better get aboard the skiff. These poor fellows here must take their chance. Give me a hand, Mulha."

A few minutes before he had been able to clamber into the rigging with wonderful agility, considering his wound; but now that the danger was passed, and help and friends were at hand, Owen collapsed utterly. He held out his hand to Mulha, and then fell on his face on the deck. And in this unconscious condition he was lifted aboard the skiff, which was half full of water, and from her was transferred to the gig. A quarter of an hour later the Indiaman was standing out of the bay, while her deck hands were hoisting the gig back to the davits. Owen lay pale and motionless in the sick-bay, while Jack was closeted with the captain. As for the native craft, she had sunk beneath the water, the five wounded pirates who had been upon her being barely rescued by the gig. It was a tragic ending to a day's hunting, but it provided the garrulous Jack Simpson with a theme, and at that moment he was breathlessly detailing all that had happened. And had there been any doubt as to the truth of their meeting with the rhinos, there was the head of the beast, and a portion of a deer, now brought aboard, indisputable evidence of their prowess.

CHAPTER VIII

The City of Palaces

Three uneventful weeks passed after Owen and his two companions made their escape from Sumatra and rejoined the ship ere the pilot boat, cruising off the sand-heads of Saugar, was sighted. And during those days the two friends had been the heroes of the ship. Not that Owen could enjoy much of the congratulation which was due to him, for the wound he had received kept him in the sick-berth for a week. It was a nasty flesh wound, and to add to the trouble the bullet had remained in the limb.

"A fellow who can stand his ground and shoot a rhino will laugh at this little task," said the surgeon who was aboard, when he came into the bay on the following morning, a servant carrying a large case of instruments for him. "There's a bullet still in that thigh, and as I imagine you are not very anxious to keep it there, I will remove it. Now the water, some clean basins, and – ah, here are the things."

He chatted and laughed pleasantly as he made his preparations, and still smiling exposed the wound and probed for the bullet. Owen found it an ordeal, but bore it manfully. He clenched his teeth firmly, and smiled back at the surgeon whenever the latter looked at him. And finally, when the bullet was extracted, he fell back on his pillow thoroughly exhausted.

"Just a little troublesome to get hold of, I admit," said the surgeon, "but you will thank me later. There was a piece of cloth too, carried in by the bullet, and that alone would certainly have delayed healing. Now, with a healthy, powerful young fellow, such as you are, the wound will close so quickly that you will be surprised."

He gave Owen a restorative, and dressed the wound, and at the end of the week our hero was on deck, lounging in a chair, his leg and thigh elevated, and a company of admiring civilians and soldiers about him.

"I'd rather have the task of shooting another rhino any day," he admitted, "than have a bullet probed for. It's worse than being wounded."

"As many a soldier has found before," exclaimed one of the passengers, Major Alexander by name. "I have been hit half a dozen times, and I know a little about it. But it's a fine training, Jones – a good beginning. Now you can say, when you land, that you have indeed smelt powder and met with a bullet. But seriously, I feel that, as the senior officer aboard, it will be my duty to make a report of all that has occurred, and of your behaviour, your gallant behaviour, Mr. Jones. I consider that the way in which you brought off the party was skilful, and displayed sagacity and courage. Not a word! I say it, and I mean it thoroughly. These gentlemen here approve of my words."

"Hear, hear! A regular young fire-eater. He will make a good soldier," exclaimed the passenger who had once before interfered on the eve of the fight. "Jones has pluck, Major, and he deserves some commendation from those into whose command he is going."

"He will have it," was the answer. "I will make it my business to report, as I have already said, and if Jones will allow me I will see to his comfort when we get ashore. No! Again, not a word, my lad. I am an old soldier, and you have a few years' service. We are of the same cloth, and if we cannot help one another, why – "

"Bravo, Major! There is nothing like being clannish. Besides, he'll want help. The surgeon says he will not have the full use of his leg for a month at least, and in a fortnight or less we should be at Calcutta."

Owen was not allowed even to whisper his thanks, for his gallant conduct had won him friends throughout the vessel. Jack had not been slow to tell of his pluck, of his strange determination and skill, while Mulha, now a person of some importance, made the lower deck and fo'castle ring with his name. Jones, late corporal of the 64th, was a hero aboard the Indiaman.

"I could not have believed it. Honestly, it never occurred to my thick head that you had it all in you," said Hargreaves one day, very quietly, taking a seat beside him. "I now see why it was that you put up with our vulgar abuse and sneers, and why you thrashed me so soundly. It has done me a world of good, for now I think a little more of others. I used to imagine that because a fellow was quiet and studious, and somewhat retiring, he had little spirit, but, my word, Jones, you have opened my eyes!"

Perched high up in his chair, and now, though strictly against the surgeon's orders, able to hop on one leg with some nimbleness, Owen watched the pilot drop a boat and send aboard. Then his eager gaze sought for the town of Calcutta. But it was some time before it came into sight. They steered their way up the wide Hooghly against a powerful stream, and, once they had passed Fultah, feasted their eyes on the delightful views on either hand. Then they rounded the projecting spit of land, with its beautiful botanical gardens, and caught their first glimpse of Fort William. A little later the shipping of Calcutta was in sight, a vista of masts which seemed to pierce the sky. There were short and stout vessels with slanting yards covered with brown native canvas, rakish-looking native vessels, ships of war, and merchantmen with tall spars and square yards, and in between them numbers of rowing craft busily plying to and fro. And there was Calcutta, the city of palaces, radiant beneath the sun. No wonder that all crowded to the rails, that Owen staggered from his chair and, conscious that the surgeon was right for'ard, hopped to the bulwarks. And what a cheer they all gave as the uniforms of soldiers were seen over the battlements of the fort and a welcoming shout reached them. They had been more than three months at sea, but for their break at Sumatra, and what wonder that all aboard, from the youngest upward, felt gay at heart and jolly!

Late that afternoon Owen took up his quarters in one of the houses on the outskirts of the city, having been carried there in a litter provided by the Major. Jack was with him too, and very thoroughly had the two enjoyed themselves.

"It is very strange and queer," said Owen, as he sat back in his chair. "It is so new, and yet so very familiar. I could lay a wager that I have lived here before. I seemed to know the Esplanade Ghaut where we disembarked, and I am sure I have time and again watched these busy fellows one passes hurrying through the streets. Then there were those in the bazaar, the women and children, all strangely old and familiar to me, and yet so new."

He looked through the wide window with a puzzled expression on his face, and fell to thinking deeply. Indeed, he might have remained in this brown study for a long while had not Jack interrupted him.

"Then you may take it for certain that a portion of your history is connected with Calcutta or some other Indian port," he said. "You've told me a good deal, and you said that it was certain that you could speak a few words of the language. A chap couldn't imagine all this. To me it is utterly strange. The bright streets, the dust, the water-carriers, the stall-holders in the bazaar, elephants and horses with their bright saddlery. It is totally different from England. To my mind it is certain that you were born out here. It was natural for you to forget a great deal when you were absent from the country, but the first sight of old familiar scenes brings back recollections."

Could it be so? Did he really and truly remember Calcutta in some vague uncertain way? Owen asked himself that question again and again. He shut his eyes and let his mind carry him back to the days, not so very long ago, when he was a child of four or five.