At the Point of the Bayonet: A Tale of the Mahratta War

After a quarter of an hour's walk, they arrived at the spot where a still-smoking fire showed that the band had halted. No pause was made, however, and the party kept on their way and, in two hours' time, reached the foot of a high range of mountains that had been visible from the coast. The climb was a severe one but, in another hour, they came out upon a flat plateau. Here, in a small village, a considerable body of men were gathered; who hailed the arrival of their comrades, with their ghastly triumphs of victory, with loud shouts.

The chief of the band led his captives to a hut, somewhat superior in appearance to the others, in front of which stood a man whose bright attire and ornaments showed him to be a chief of importance.

"Who is this white man," he asked, "and these soldiers who are with him?"

The officer repeated the description that he had received from the interpreter, whom he pointed out.

"Why was this white man going to Johore?" he asked.

"He was sent by the white lord of India, my lord."

"Ask him why he was sent?"

"I was sent to Johore to ask the rajah if he would grant a trading station to the English."

"We want no English on our coast," the chief said. "There are the Dutch, at Malacca–some day we will turn them out.

"So he was bringing presents to Johore, was he?"

"Yes, my lord; these are the parcels," and he beckoned up the men who carried them.

These approached, and humbly laid them at the rajah's feet.

"I have to report, my lord, that there were twenty of Johore's men with him. These we killed."

"Did the white man and his soldiers aid them?"

"No, my lord. They stood quiet, and offered no resistance, therefore I brought them to you."

"You did well. You are sure that none of the Johore men escaped, to carry off the news that we were here?"

"Quite certain. We have the heads of twenty men, and their officer."

"Good! I will examine these things. Put the white man and this Malay into a hut, and the four soldiers into another.

"Who is this other man, who is dressed differently?"

"He is the white officer's servant," the interpreter said.

"Well, he can go with his master, then."

The four troopers were led off in one direction, and Harry and the others in another. It was a hut roughly constructed of bamboos, thatched with broad leaves, while the entrance had no door. The interpreter did not carry arms; those of Harry and Abdool had been removed.

"Things have turned out badly, Abdool," Harry said.

"Very badly, sahib. I do not like the look of that rajah."

"Nor do I, Abdool. I am convinced that he means mischief, and we must get away as soon as we can.

"Have you got your knife with you? So have I. We must make a way out of the back of this hut."

A group of half a dozen Malays had taken their seats on the ground, at a distance of some fifteen yards from the entrance; but had posted no sentries. Behind it, as they were taken in, Harry noticed that there was a patch of grain, and beyond that rose the forest.

"These knives are no good against bamboo, sahib."

"No, I know that; but we might cut these rattans which bind them together. In the first place, dig down with your knife, and see if the bamboos are sound underneath. They may have rotted there.

"You and I will stand at the entrance," he went on to the interpreter, "then they cannot see in."

"Bamboos are quite sound, sahib."

"Then we must try another way. First cut the rattans–but not in a line with the entrance, a few feet on one side."

The wood was extremely tough, and it was half an hour before Abdool could cut through them, and free three or four of the bamboo poles. While he was doing this, Harry and the interpreter stood talking together, apparently watching the movements of the Malays.

"We are going to try and escape," Harry said. "Will you go with us, or remain here? They will certainly kill us, if they overtake us; there is just a chance that they will not kill us, if we stay."

"They will kill us," the man said, confidently. "It may not be today, because the rajah will be looking over his presents, and will be in a good temper; but tomorrow they will come in and kris us. Assuredly I will go with you."

When Abdool announced that he had cut through the rattans, Harry joined him, telling the interpreter to wait at the entrance till he called him.

"What next, master?" Abdool asked.

"The next thing will be to pull up the bamboos. If you have cut all their lashings, this ought not to be very difficult; but it will make it easier if we cut the ground away, as deep as we can, on this side of them."

Kneeling down, they set to work with their knives and, after half an hour's work, they had laid bare the bottoms of four of the bamboos, which were sunk two feet into the ground.

"Now, Abdool, we ought to get them up easily enough."

With their united strength they pulled up a bamboo, replaced it in its position and, one by one, got the other three up, put them in again, and lightly filled in the earth.

"Now we can go, at a minute's notice," Harry said. "At any rate, we had better wait till it is dark."

The sun had just set, when they saw the rajah come out of his hut. He gave an order, and the four troopers were brought out, and placed in a line. Four natives took their places behind them, kris in hand.

"They are going to murder them!" Harry exclaimed, in horror.

"Now, Abdool, there is not a moment to be lost; it will be our turn, next."

Their guards had all risen to their feet, watching what was going on. Three of the bamboos were plucked up in a moment. This afforded an opening sufficiently large for them to pass through and, keeping the hut between them and the guard, they made their way through the plantation, and dashed into the forest. They heard yells of satisfaction in the village, and Harry had no doubt that the four troopers had been murdered.

They ran at full speed through the forest and, ten minutes later, heard loud shouts of dismay; and had no doubt that a party had been sent to take them out to execution, and had discovered their escape. It was already almost dark, under the thick shade of the trees; but for half an hour they ran on, the Malay in advance, for he could see any obstacles better than they could, the habits and training of his youth having given him experience in such work.

For a time they had heard loud shouts behind them. These had been useful, in enabling them to keep a straight course. The Malay now turned, and struck off at right angles to the line that they had been pursuing.

"We must keep on, for a time," he said. "When they do not overtake us, they will scatter through the forest in all directions."

For hours they toiled on, sometimes at an easy walk, sometimes breaking into a run. At last the Malay admitted that, for the time, they were safe; and they threw themselves down upon the ground.