"Throw it! Blow them to atoms! Send it now, or you will be killed!"
Mulha had caught sight of the figure above, and realising in a flash what he was about to do shouted to the old man. But he did not stir, or attempt to throw his missile. He stood there, poising the barrel, looking from the struggling mass below to the spluttering fuse, as if he were fascinated; and while he waited the train which he had fired swept down the fuse with appalling rapidity. It was barely an inch from the auger-hole now, and in less than a minute it would disappear within. And then——
"Is the man mad? Throw it!" shouted Mulha,[Pg 183] while the men stationed in the window behind repeated the warning, bellowing the words at the top of their voices, and with all the force of their lungs.
"Throw it, master! You will be blown to atoms. Toss it into the robbers and send them to the sky!"
And if they wondered why he still clung to his bomb, as if seeking his death, the Mahrattas marvelled even more. The shouts of warning had reached their ears, and not a man but had turned his eyes upon the figure above. Instantly they were thrown into a panic, and forgetful of the white officer and his peons they turned in desperate haste, and mindful only of the bomb and of the figure above they struggled to get out of the gateway with more desperation than they had shown when making the attack. There came a shriek of triumph from the old man, a shriek which set the enemy quaking.
"Forward!" he shouted, waving the barrel as if to attract Owen's attention. "Forward, sahib, and cut them up!"
"Back! Run in here well behind the wall!" cried Owen. "The poor fellow has gone mad. If we were to charge we should be blown to pieces when the powder explodes. Lie down, men, close to the wall, and wait till it is over."
"Sahib, I think he is right. Let us charge," gasped Mulha, coming suddenly to his side. "The old man has played a cunning trick upon the enemy. He has no bomb. The cask is probably empty."
If there had been any doubt about the matter the[Pg 184] native set it at rest on the instant. Realising that the white sahib and his men were as fearful of the expected explosion as were the enemy, and that what was clear to him was not so to them, he bent down so that the enemy could not see him, and brought the cask against the side of the wall with a bang which broke it to pieces.
"Empty! See!" he shouted. "Forward! Do not delay an instant! By Allah, they will escape us!"
Then it was all a ruse! After all, the old man who owned the fort had snatched his peons and the white sahib from disaster. It was almost incredible, but none the less true. Owen grasped the meaning of the antics of the native, and at once leapt to his feet.
"After them!" he shouted. "Keep together, and do not go far from the walls. We will teach them to leave us alone in future."
Waving his sabre aloft he put himself at the head of the peons, who were now overflowing with courage and eagerness, and vaulted over the barricade. The Mahrattas were almost clear of the gateway, and as our hero rushed at them the last of the attackers fled from between the shattered walls. But they were not to escape so lightly, and had yet to receive punishment for the injury they had done. Owen saw that panic had got a firm grip of them, and emboldened by that he led his men far from the walls. Gathered in a close knot they dashed out, cutting down all who stood in their way, and did not halt till they were at least fifty yards from the walls. By then they had slain a number of the stragglers, while the rest were in full flight.
"Now, halt and pepper them with your muskets," shouted Owen at the top of his voice, for the din was tremendous, and the excitement of the peons beyond description. "Lie down here and send your bullets into them as they mount."
A few of the men happened to have their weapons loaded, and at that moment the four marksmen who had been posted on top of the wall, together with those who had been in the window, came up with their comrades, and adding their fire caused a considerable amount of execution in the ranks of the enemy, who meanwhile had rushed to their horses and were engaged in mounting them. For a little while there was a scene of the utmost confusion, for some men took any horse which happened to be nearest, while others, finding their own mounts gone, went in search of them. Finally, galled by the fire of the muskets, and filled with an unaccountable panic, the whole mass of Mahratta horse galloped away, leaving some thirty of their fellows on the ground. And long ere Owen or Mulha could inspect the wounded or interfere they were dead, slain by the infuriated defenders; for this was war to the knife, and any of the freebooters who had brought such misery to the country, and who might chance to fall into the hands of the people, could expect no mercy at all.
"That is the last that we shall see of the gang," said Owen, when they were out of sight "But in case they should take heart and return we will make ready for them. Set the men to work to rebuild the barricade, and let us have double as many sacks."
"They will not dare to come near this part of the country again," exclaimed the old native, with an emphatic shake of his head as he came up to Owen. "Still, we will be prepared. They have had a lesson, sahib, and thanks to you, they have lost their leader. But for the arrival of the white lord we should all have been slain by now."
"Thank yourself," answered Owen heartily. "We were cornered. The attack was going against us when you ran up with your bomb. To you alone we owe our safety and deliverance."
"Nay, sahib, that is not the whole truth. It is a fact that when matters were going badly for us an old man's wit saved the situation. It came as a flash to me. There was the barrel, empty as it happened, and near at hand was a piece of rag. I wetted it with a few drops of water and made a fuse while the struggle was at its height. Then I bored a hole with an instrument which happened to be handy, and seizing a brand ran to the walls. I know these marauders. Death has no favours for them. They are bold where there is no danger to themselves, and cruel to a degree; but they will not stand when such a fate awaits them. See how they ran! But though it was I who brought about their flight, I do not disguise from myself the fact that it is to the sahib that we owe our lives. The peons would have handed you over to the enemy but for your courage and opposition. Then they would surely have flinched and given in had you not set an example. Let us not argue, my lord. I who own this place am beholden[Pg 187] to you, and I thank Allah that you rode hither this morning."
The old man almost swept the ground with his beard as he salaamed, and as Owen looked at him he knew that he was grateful.
"How many men are killed?" he asked suddenly, turning to Mulha.
"Seven, sahib, and eight are wounded. But what of my master? See here!"
He pointed to Owen's riding-boot, which had been cut right through at one spot just above the ankle by a blow from a tulwar. The blade, as sharp as a razor, had severed the leather, and had then cut to the bone. Owen laughed gaily as he looked down at the boot, for his heart was light, a huge weight was taken from his mind, and the wound was of no consequence.
"I had forgotten," he said, as Mulha bent to inspect the injury, a look of anxiety on his face. "A fellow cut at me when I was engaging a second, and I had only time to ward off the blow partially. Otherwise I fancy it would have lopped the leg off. We'll take the boot off and empty the blood out. Then a handkerchief will set the matter right. One moment, though. While these Mahrattas are galloping away let us search the bags and the pockets of those who have fallen. There are some poor fellows here, chief, who have been killed or who are wounded. It would be a fine thing to divide the spoil amongst them or their families."
"The sahib has a generous mind. We will do as he says."
The old man went off to superintend the matter, while Mulha bound up his master's injury. An hour later the look-out from the tower above announced the fact that the enemy had ridden out of sight.
"Then we will ride away," said Owen. "Bring the horses, Mulha."
Some minutes later, when the native came forward, he was leading the two animals which they had ridden that morning, and in addition four others, all of which still carried their handsome native saddles.
"This is our portion of the loot taken from the enemy, sahib," he said, with a movement of his eyes which Owen knew so well, and which showed without doubt that he was delighted. "There were thirty stray horses to choose from, and these are the pick. This belonged to their chief. The sahib will find that he is the best-mounted officer in his regiment."
A few minutes later they bade farewell to the old man and his peons, and followed by their blessings rode out from the fort, a hole being made in the barricade to enable them to do so. They were laden with provisions, which were tied to the saddles of the Mahratta horses, while Owen himself bestrode the fine animal which had belonged to their chief. Turning their faces to the hills they rode on at a steady trot, and arrived just as night was falling at the spot where the troops were camped. They were greeted with shouts of welcome, and hurriedly told their tale. Then the Major was able to impart a little information to our hero.
"Perhaps you'll not be interested," he said, with his[Pg 189] bantering smile, "for you seem always to have some little adventure of your own afoot, but we're close to the army—Wellesley's, I mean. The news was brought in soon after you left us, and to-morrow we shall be up with the main body. There is work ahead, for we hear that some big place is about to be attacked. Make ready, Owen, for very soon, if things turn out properly, you will be one of the assaulting party, and will have an opportunity of fighting your way in through the breach made by our guns."
He forgot that this young officer belonged to the cavalry, and would hardly be engaged in such a duty. But the news roused Owen to a high pitch of enthusiasm, and when he turned in that night, and the tingling of the slight wound he had received would allow him to sleep, he dreamed that the position of affairs that day had been changed, that the Mahrattas held the gateway in the wall of the fort, and that he and the peons were engaged in a fierce attack. It was not till the figure of the chief of the Mahrattas appeared above, ready to toss a bomb upon them, that he awoke, to find the dull gleam of dawn stealing into his tent, while he himself lay shivering, his nightmare having resulted in the covering in which he was wrapped having been kicked aside. With a grumble he rolled himself in it again and fell asleep, oblivious of past and future.
The great Major-General Arthur Wellesley, the famous Duke of Wellington of after days, was the centre of all eyes as the force with which Owen and his friends had marched came into camp and joined the main party. He sat his horse immovable as a rock, and answered salute with salute with such composure and in such a soldierly manner that all were impressed. Once only did he deign to smile as a hoarse voice from the passing ranks called for three cheers for their leader, and when the echo of the tumultuous shouting had died down he showed his appreciation by lifting his embroidered hat. That was all, and yet in all ranks there was satisfaction, for from commanding-officer to drummer-boy he was the idol of the soldiers.
"A very keen commander who knows his men and can get the very utmost out of them," said the Major, as the men were dismissed. "Now, Owen, and you too, Jack, I shall introduce you to your regiments. From this time we shall see less of one another. But whenever you have a spare half-hour come across to my tent."
A little later our hero was seated in a tent owned[Pg 191] by the 7th native cavalry, where he found himself a stranger amongst many officers. He felt ill at ease, and somewhat bashful for a little while, but soon settled down, and on the following day took up his duties. Three days later the army got in motion and set off in the direction of Ahmednuggur. Long before then rumours of his adventures had come to the ears of his brother officers, and he was requested to give the details. Nor did he omit to say how he had come to be sent to India, and how, in his younger days, he had been a corporal in the 64th, and earlier a waif in charge of the matron at the poorhouse.
"With a mystery attached to your going there, Jones, I think," said the Colonel heartily. "Well, my boy, I admire the open manner in which you have told the tale of your early days. There are heaps of young fellows, and older men too, who would keep the matter dark, and feel very chary of mentioning it. And so you have two wounds to boast of?"
Owen acknowledged the fact with heightened colour, as if he were ashamed, at which there was a roar of laughter.
"And have had a couple of good tussles, besides a little affray aboard ship? Very good! Before you have finished you will bring some credit on this regiment."
There was another roar of laughter, which set his blood tingling, and his colour mounting to his cheeks. But it was all good-natured chaff, and like the sensible fellow he was, he showed no resentment. More than that, he was glad now that he had fought Hargreaves;[Pg 192] for he began to learn that tales fly in a country like India, and that it is everything for a youngster to come to his regiment with a good recommendation.
"We heard that you were coming a week ago," said one of the younger officers with whom he shared a tent. "Some fellows came in from another column, and it seems that they had sailed from Calcutta to Bombay, beating you by some weeks. They had come out in the same ship, and that is how we heard of the fight, of the pirates, and your escape. And there is a yarn in camp about this other affair at the native fort. You must tell me all about that. I mean, you must give me full details, for by what you said in the mess tent the whole affair might have lasted only a few minutes."
Owen had indeed been very modest when describing the contest at the native fort, and it was only when Mulha was appealed to that the full details became known. And as they filtered from mess to mess, they came in time to the headquarters' mess, and the General heard the tale.
"Send for him," he said abruptly. "A little affair of that sort is often more difficult to arrange than one of greater magnitude. I wish to question this officer."
Very hot and uneasy did Owen feel when, dressed in his cavalry uniform, belted, and with his sabre on, he was ushered before the General. He was still a little hampered by the wound he had received in the affray with the pirates, while the slash he had received across his ankle in the affair of the fort, though a trifling affair, was sufficient to increase the limp. He drew himself up[Pg 193] to attention and saluted stiffly, keeping his eyes steadily on the General. Then he dropped his hand, retaining his position at attention. The leader of the troops stood in front of his tent, with two other officers beside him, and for the space of a few seconds he returned the glance of this cavalry ensign, his sharp eyes seeming to pierce to the back of Owen's head. It was an ordeal at which many an old soldier would have flinched, and do what he would Owen could hardly contain himself. A moment later the tension was broken.
"Mr. Jones, sir," said one of the officers. "You wished to see him."
"Yes. How old are you, please?"
Owen gave his age as correctly as was possible, considering the fact that the unusual circumstances surrounding his birth made a precise answer impossible.
"Tell me about this fort. Who was with you?"
"My servant, sir. A Mahratta."
"How many helped in the defence?"
One after another the General shot off his questions, demanding the size of the place, the number of the enemy, and the dispositions taken for defence.
"If you had had twenty-five English troops to help you, how long could you have held out?"
"I should have tried to beat them off altogether, sir," came the prompt reply. "If not, I should have contented myself with holding the place. There was food and water enough to last for a week at least."
"You discovered that? When?"
"Within a few minutes of entering the fort, sir."
"And how would you have attempted to carry out the first part of the programme, Mr. Jones? Be precise, please. How would you have beaten them off?"
"I should have held the walls till night came, sir," Owen answered without hesitation, "and then I should have made a sortie. Those roving bands consist of the roughest characters, and they seldom set a watch at night. Often enough they are almost overcome with the opium or bhang they have taken. I should have driven off their horses and attacked them in the early hours."
"A bold programme," said the General, with a lift of his eyes. "Success would much depend upon your information. Is it a fact, for instance, that they take opium? How do you know it?"
Owen at once told his questioner how Mulha had taught him all that seemed of interest with regard to the Mahrattas, and how in their daily discussions he had mentioned this fact.
"Then you speak Mahratti? Sufficiently well to understand, or better?"
This time the General looked at our hero with awakening interest, while he waited eagerly for his answer.
"I can, I am told, speak like a native, sir," answered Owen modestly. "I can also speak Hindustani."
It was evident that General Wellesley was not the one to allow the possibility of a mistake. He turned to one of the officers and gave a short order. A little later a Mahratta advanced and salaamed.
"This is one of the Mahratta friendly chiefs," he said. "I have instructed him to converse with you."
Had our hero told anything but the strict and accurate truth, he would then and there have been confounded. But he was sure of himself, and a minute later found the Mahratta salaaming to him and conversing at a pace which utterly forbade those who had a smattering of the language following the conversation.
"My lord," said the native, turning to the General, "the sahib tells me that he believes that he lived in this country when a babe, and learned Hindustani, and mayhap some of our tongue even before he was taught his own. Truly, I can believe it. But for his colour and his dress he is a Mahratta."
"And here is a report to that effect, received from Calcutta, sir," said one of the officers, abstracting a parchment from a leather satchel. "This came through with the column with which Mr. Jones marched."
"I will see it. Put this officer's name down for special service, in connection with interpreting or otherwise. He has shown great energy and courage. Good-morning, Mr. Jones."
He acknowledged Owen's salute and stood looking after him as he limped away.
"We shall see him again, I think," he said very quietly. "It is something to have a youngster amongst us who can speak like a native and has the pluck to carry out the part."
Marching across the plain watered by the Soona, the force under General Wellesley at length came in sight[Pg 196] of Ahmednuggur, having passed numerous villages en route which had been fired by the lawless Mahrattas. And here they found a city and fortress which promised to tax their powers, for the pettah boasted a lofty wall, flanked with towers, though it had no battlements. In addition it had an excellent ditch, and, according to the General, was the strongest fort which he had seen, saving only Vellore, in the Carnatic. The place was garrisoned by a body of Arabs, aided by one of Scindia's regular battalions, trained no doubt by some French officer, while between it and the fortress lay a column of horse.
The little army sat down before the place in a business-like manner, and Owen very soon had an opportunity of seeing how troops conducted the affairs of a siege. Having accompanied his own troop of horse round the stronghold, he found himself free for a time, and with Jack Simpson beside him, now an ensign in a native foot battalion, for he had been unfortunate enough not to attain to the cavalry, he watched as the gunners prepared their batteries. They broke ground that very night at an easy range, and it was not long before the thunder of the guns awoke the echoes. Then there were other matters of interest to see and admire. There were the hundreds of bullock-carts, the slow-moving yet very trusty transport of our armies in India, and there were the lines of tents erected for the men, the hospital tents, the orderly groups of canvas shelters for the officers, and the numerous hucksters and small merchants who hovered in the lines. Further, there were the native servants, hurrying about their masters' business, leading ponies and horses to[Pg 197] water, cleaning saddlery, brushing travel-stained uniforms, and performing the hundred and one duties which fall to the lot of servants. Not that a native will do the tithe of work that one can expect from a European servant, for in India caste rules far and wide, and the man who will sweep the compound and perform other menial offices is looked down upon by the grass-cutter or the syce who tends the ponies. It was all most interesting, and it was long before the two young fellows had made a round of the camp.
And now, while the gunners are bombarding the walls of Ahmednuggur, let us halt for a while to learn what had actually been the course of events from the commencement of this Mahratta trouble. And perhaps it would be as well to mention to the reader the forces to which we were to be opposed. The Mahratta chiefs, controlling a turbulent population, and ever eager for war, and delighting in the clatter of arms, had united for the time being, a somewhat unusual occurrence, considering the jealousies and rivalries which existed amongst them. They had, in the first instance, marked the Nizam for their prey, and were deeply offended because the Company had taken him under their wing. And now the Peishwa, whom Holkar, the most powerful, perhaps, of Mahratta chiefs, had driven from his throne, had become an ally of ours, and we were pledged to support him. Backed by his trained battalions, officered by Frenchmen, Scindia openly threatened the British, and it was abundantly clear that if left to himself he would rapidly increase in power, and would one day[Pg 198] become a serious menace to our hopes in India. War was, in fact, imminent and would be undertaken on our part with the object of humbling this native ruler's power, and, perhaps with a greater object still, that of ridding the country for ever of the French and the native battalions they trained. Our success would bring about in natural course a third object, that of securing the Peishwa on his throne.
General Wellesley had the command of our troops, and these prior to the commencement of the campaign were separated. Colonel Stevenson, with two regiments of native cavalry, and the Nizam's subsidiary force, amounting in all to 8000 men, took up his position at Parinda, on the Peishwa's frontier, where he was accompanied by 15,000 of the troops of the Deccan. He was therefore about a hundred miles east of Poonah, the Peishwa's seat of government, then in the hands of Holkar.
A second force, that commanded in person by Arthur Wellesley, and to which Owen was now attached, commenced operations at the northern frontier of Mysore, and numbered 8000 infantry and 1700 horse. They showed the energy of their leader at once, for they marched with all their baggage and heavy guns upon Poonah, accomplishing a journey of some six hundred miles at the average rate of thirteen and a half miles a day, and that without losing a single draught animal, though the country had been swept by Holkar, a powerful chief in command of a host of freebooters, and it was the worst season of the year. Poonah was taken without encountering opposition,[Pg 199] though Holkar's freebooters only fled as the British force came into sight, and the dethroned Peishwa was again brought to his capital and safely installed there, with the help of our bayonets. At this stage Colonel Stevenson moved towards the Godavery, there to overlook Holkar and his freebooters, his co-operation being no longer necessary; while Wellesley prepared for further eventualities should the Mahratta chiefs prove troublesome.
The reader will have noticed the mention of Holkar, and it may be as well to state here who this chieftain was, for his name is destined to appear again in the narrative. Jeswunt Rao Holkar, to give him his full title, was the descendant of a family which had had a meteoric career, rising from humble circumstances to great power and wealth. Originally they were members of the Dungar shepherd tribe, located some fifty miles from Poonah, and it was one of these shepherds who first carved fame and fortune for his house with the keen edge of his tulwar. Indeed, he obtained much power and wealth, and became virtual ruler of eighty-two districts north of the Nerbudda. It is unnecessary to follow the doings of his family, but it will suffice if we state that, according to the almost universal custom, his successors did not always come to their rights peacefully, and this Holkar, an illegitimate descendant, found himself in his younger days a fugitive. But he possessed the spirit of that forebear of his, for with a tiny following he carved his fortune anew, gathered adherents at every stride, and finally became the terror of the[Pg 200] Peishwa and of Scindia. He hung on their frontiers, ravaged their territories, and plundered friend and foe alike. And at this stage, when Britain may be said to have entered into war with Scindia, to whom were allied other Mahratta chiefs, this Holkar hung like a cloud on the frontiers, with a horde of ruffians and freebooters, scowling at both parties and threatening the peace of our other possessions.
Information had reached General Wellesley that Scindia and the Rajah of Berar had joined forces and had taken up a hostile position. He requested them to withdraw, and meeting with refusal made ready for active operations. The troops marched for Ahmednuggur, meeting with the column which had accomplished the enormous land journey from Calcutta. And now they were before the town, which was of great importance. For it covered Poonah and the Peishwa's frontier, while the possession of this place would give our troops an excellent depot, would cut Scindia off from his southern supporters, and would give into our hands his territories south of the Godavery.
While referring to Scindia, it is of interest to mention that he had an immense force of irregular cavalry, a large number of well-trained infantry battalions, and marched light. That is, he carried no magazines, but subsisted on the country, plundering whenever and wherever he could, like Holkar on the frontier. He had a marked awe of the British regulars, and in this campaign he did his utmost to carry on a predatory warfare, attacking when in overwhelming force, hanging on our flanks, and marching swiftly and incessantly whenever our troops became too troublesome. However, we shall see how he succeeded.
"We shall be marching to the assault soon, lads," said the Major that evening, as the boom of the cannon died down. "It will require very little bombarding to make an effective breach, and then you'll see how we'll turn the beggars out. How'd you like to be one of the boys?"
Owen's eyes glistened, while he looked across the narrow camp-table at the Major, who was faintly discernible by the aid of a smoky native lamp.
"Ha, ha! This time you will look on," laughed the Major. "Jack and I are the boys who will try for honour and glory. The cavalry will be watching the enemy's horsemen and will be foraging outside the lines."
"I'd like to go though, sir," answered Owen. "I shall ask my commanding officer."
He said nothing more then, but on the following day, when the call sounded for the troop to fall in, he rode up to the Colonel.
"Well, Mr. Jones," said the latter, "what can I do for you? You have your orders, or rather the troop commander has. You are to ride well in rear of that fort and keep a careful watch. Not that you are likely to have much to report, for our spies tell us that there are none of the enemy within miles."
"Then could you excuse me, sir?" asked our hero. "You see, sir, I wanted to know what it would be like attacking a wall, and——"
"Why, you know. What about that rickety native fort? Bless me!"
The Colonel swung round in his saddle, while the adjutant grinned.
"A regular young fire-eater, sir," he whispered.
"And what if all my cornets made the same request?" demanded the Colonel. "But there. We can spare you. I'll see one of the staff and ask him to manufacture some orders for you, for you can't accompany the storming party unless there is good excuse. Now be careful, and if you get a crack over the head, or get killed, why, don't blame me."
He acknowledged Owen's salute somewhat surlily, and rode off with the adjutant, while Owen, his spirits raised to a high pitch, clapped heels to the fine Mahratta horse he rode and went furiously off the parade ground. However, within some fifty yards he was brought up with a shout, and checking his mount, turned him with an easy swerve. There was a native orderly beside him by now, and his lance went to the salute.
"The Colonel Sahib desires you to return."
"To tell me I cannot go," groaned Owen, as he set his beast in motion. However, he little guessed the cause. He pulled up within a horse's length of the commanding officer and saluted.
"Mr. Jones, will you please to remember that you are not to gallop off the parade ground unless carrying an order. There is no need for such haste. Bear that in mind in future."
With a swing the Colonel and his adjutant pulled[Pg 203] their animals round and trotted away, leaving our hero somewhat crestfallen. But the two who rode away wore a smile of evident amusement.
"Will do him good! Some of these youngsters think they know everything. Jones doesn't, but he might, don't you see," said the Colonel, "so I've pulled him up and dressed him down. He'll make a capital officer."
Owen saluted the Colonel's back as the latter rode away, and then walked his horse from the parade ground. And presently the adjutant came up to him.
"Got into hot water that time, my boy," he laughed. "But the Colonel is right. You mustn't allow excitement to carry you away. It's a standing order that about galloping off the parade ground, though I fancy we let it drop when on service. But I have your orders. You are to go with the storming party, not to lead it, you understand, and are to interview any prisoners who may happen to be taken. Now for a bit of advice. When you pass an enemy who is down just make sure that he is really hit. More than a few of our poor fellows have been sabred or bayoneted by men who have made pretence to be killed."
Owen was delighted, and his spirits again soared up. He rode off to his tent and dismounted. Then he fell in in rear of the storming party, and sat down beside the officers while the guns thundered against the wall. They watched the balls strike against the mud and masonry, sending clouds of dust into the air, and often bringing down such a pile of material that the crash[Pg 204] could be heard at that distance. And in a little while the bugles sounded, the men fell in, and the order to advance was given.
Only those who have experienced the feeling can know what it is to be one of a storming party, or the curious sensations with which men are filled. Happily for Owen he was a high-spirited, merry youngster, and had been in tight places before. He allowed nothing to damp his ardour, and when the men broke into a trot, crushed well towards the front. Very soon he found himself beside the ranks of one of the two Highland regiments which were with this force, and just in front of a Sepoy battalion. There was a shout, bayonets came down to the charge, while the kilts of the men swung out still wider. There was a hoarse growl of excitement, and then a roar from the throats of the gallant fellows. They were in the ditch. Owen caught his foot on a piece of masonry at the very summit and pitched head foremost to the bottom, alighting on the shoulders of a brawny Highlander, who shook him off with an oath, recognised an officer, and helped him to his feet. Then, side by side, Owen sabre in hand, and the kilted soldier armed with his fearsome bayonet, they scrambled up the steep slope and into the breach.
"Hang on, sir. Give me your hand!" shouted the fine fellow as Owen was forced back. "Hah! that's as muckle as ye'll want."
He stretched out a huge paw and dragged Owen up, turning just in time to ward off a thrust made by one of the enemy. Then he lifted his weapon and brought the[Pg 205] butt with terrific force against the man's chest, dashing him to the ground so suddenly that the unfortunate native split his head against a portion of tumbled masonry. Then there was a fierce mêlée for a few seconds, a mêlée in which bayonets crossed, and tulwars and swords flashed in the sun. The air was filled with the shouts of the Mahratta foot, and with the guttural exclamations of the Arabs. Blows fell thick and fast, while from attackers and attacked there came the sound of deep-drawn breathing. Then a shout was heard. "Forward! into the town!" A fierce excited cheer answered the summons, and in a moment the Highlanders flung the enemy aside as if they had been but spray from the ocean, and won their way through the breach.
"Charge! Don't give them time to get to the houses, men," called out the commanding officer.
At once the ranks, which were already broken, divided altogether, and the Highlanders charged against the houses clustered near at hand. But the enemy were before them, and for some little while Owen and his new comrades had tough work to carry through.
"Sahib, come here, where you can shelter," said one of the Sepoys, with whom he now found himself fighting. "You have no musket and can do nothing. Presently we will charge and then you can lead."
The enemy had taken refuge in the houses on either side of the street, and for a while their fire made progress almost impossible. But the attackers answered with the utmost spirit, sheltering wherever they could, while some, reckless of the consequences, dashed forward, burst in[Pg 206] the doors, and fell upon the enemy. It was a most exciting time, and there is no wonder that Owen forgot all else but the fighting. He caught sight of the brawny Highlander again, his kilt all adrift in the wind, and showing unmistakable signs of the conflict. He was charging down the street with some dozen of his comrades, while three or four of the Sepoys were with the gang. Owen could not resist the temptation. He burst from his cover and dashed after them. Shots struck the ground at his feet, kicking dust into his eyes. A man thrust a musket between the lattice of a ground-floor window and fired in his face, so that the flash singed his hair. But he hardly noticed the incident. He was whole, uninjured, and there were deeds still to be done. With a shout he joined the little party, and threw himself against the doors of a house of large size. They gave with a crash, and the men were in. With a shout they flung themselves upon the enemy and then——
"Pull yourself together, man. We're in and the place is ours. Here, take a sip."
Owen sat up, giddy and confused. All he could grasp at present was the fact that Jack Simpson was beside him. Stars whirled before his eyes, the walls, the floor, the figure of an Arab and a Sepoy were strangely jumbled up with the large form of a Highlander, who lay full length, looking quietly at him, while an officer bandaged his wounded leg. There was a terrible din outside. What had happened?
"Shut your eyes and hold your tongue. Now, sip that. Right, I'll get some water."
Ten minutes later he was standing up, somewhat unsteadily, while Jack Simpson detailed the events which had just passed.
"They fought stubbornly," he said, "and we lost fairly heavily, for this street fighting is very nasty work. However, we turned them all out, and here we are, masters of the town. The guns are getting into position to bombard the fort. Now about you, old fellow! The Highlander tells me that just as you burst into the house an Arab hit you over the head with a sponging rod, and brought you down like a ninepin. My word! You are a fellow for go and dash! I saw you in the breach and afterwards as you made your rush."
Owen had indeed displayed not a little of that daring and pluck which have made our soldiers famous. The excitement of the attack had carried him away, and the sudden friendship of the Highlander had served to feed the fire. Fighting together, as if they were of equal rank and had known each other for years, the two had struggled on till they were separated. And then Owen had again joined his friend, only to be beaten to the ground, while the Highlander had a bullet through his leg. However, it was not till an hour later when he emerged from the house, walking beside the litter of the gallant Scot, that he gathered that his conduct had attracted attention. The General and his staff were standing beside the breach, while within a few yards the Highland regiment was drawn up, standing there at ease, till orders came for another advance. As Owen stumbled along, for he was still very giddy, a murmur[Pg 208] went down the ranks, and men nudged one another. Then one of the lads tore off his bonnet and threw it into the air, catching it upon the point of his bayonet.
"Three cheers for Cornet Jones and Andrew Macnalty!"
The hoarse roar which followed might have been heard a mile away, and, as may be imagined, attracted the attention of the General and his staff. He turned, saw the bonnets in the air, and Owen and the Scot passing between himself and the ranks.
"Our friend of the fort again, I think," he said with a quaint little smile. "Did I not say that we should see more of this young officer?"
"The English are truly a wonderful people, and their General is a wonderful general," wrote Scindia, when referring to the action at Ahmednuggur. "They came, looked at the pettah, walked over it, slew the garrison, and returned to breakfast. Who can withstand them?"
That was the reputation which General Wellesley and his small force obtained for themselves, a reputation which was before very long to be considerably enhanced. They took the town of Ahmednuggur, and then at once put their guns in position to bombard the fort, opening with such effect that the commander volunteered to capitulate. Thus was the initial action of the campaign rendered successful.
"We shall leave a garrison and march on at once," said the Major that evening, when he came to see our hero in his tent, for Owen was confined to his camp-bed for a few days, the blow having resulted in a slight fever, for which he had already been freely bled. "It will never do to allow Scindia and the Rajah of Berar to march up and down the country gathering supplies and recruits. At the present moment all the robbers and[Pg 210] ruffians who have not attached themselves to Holkar are hurrying to join the enemy, and the longer we delay the more there will be of them. Our General has a reputation for hurry and dash, and you will see that he will stir them up."
However, circumstances alter the plans even of generals, and it was not till the 24th of August that the force crossed the Godavery, while Colonel Stevenson moved in the direction of Aurungabad. Then came tidings that Scindia and his ally had issued through the Adjuntah pass and had seized Jaulna in the Deccan, wheeling at once to the south-east as if about to march on the city of Hyderabad, for he had discovered that Wellesley was within forty miles of Jaulna, and the object of the Mahratta chiefs was to keep free of his force and in any case to avoid a general action.
The indefatigable Wellesley followed them, and finally compelled them to take up a position at Jaulna. On the 21st of September the whole of the Mahratta army was encamped at Jefferabad, twenty-two miles south of Jaulna, while our forces, consisting of the troops under Wellesley and Stevenson, were ten miles to the west, at Budnapore. There seemed at last every opportunity of a general engagement, and hope rose high in the two united divisions. An attack was to be made, and according to the plans of the General the troops, divided into their original divisions, were to throw themselves upon the enemy on the morning of the 24th. For this purpose they separated two days earlier, Colonel Stevenson taking the western route[Pg 211] to the rendezvous, while Wellesley and his force went to the east.
"I shall be surprised if they do not manage to escape us," said the adjutant of the 7th cavalry, on the evening before the divisions said farewell to each other and moved off. "You see, Jones, these united attacks are most difficult to time. Everything depends on the two forces arriving on the ground practically at the same moment, and the smallest circumstance may delay one or other commander. There may be a wide and deep stream to cross, the ground encountered may be far too rough for guns, and that would mean a wide detour, or the enemy might themselves overthrow our plans by moving into another position. However, we shall do our best, and our spies will keep us informed. That brings me to your orders. A note was sent in to the C.O. after that affair at Ahmednuggur. One of the staff officers brought it, and so I expect it came direct from the General. As a reward for your conduct in the storming of the breach you were to be given opportunities of accompanying outposts and advance parties. This is an opportunity, and the C.O. has asked me to tell you off for the duty. You will take six men to-morrow, and will leave camp before daybreak. Draw rations to-night, so that you may be free of the column altogether, and be sure to send us back due information of what you find. Here is a map. On it I have drawn the route we are to follow, and have sketched in the position of the enemy. Call at the orderly tent and ask for a pocket-book for your despatches, for you will[Pg 212] have to send back your observations in writing. My boy, you have a chance. Make the most of it."
When the adjutant had departed Owen threw his cap in the air, and would have given vent to a whoop of delight had he not been occupying a tent within the lines, while the General was situated within fifty yards. For he was to be employed upon a duty for which he had longed ever since he had joined the division. He liked his work as a cornet of cavalry immensely, but the post of advance-guard or scout fascinated him, and here he was detailed for the work. He called for Mulha, and having given him directions as to his horse, he went across to choose his men and draw the rations. Then he visited the orderly-room tent, and that done, gathered about him the dozen or so harcarrahs, or spies, who were attached to the division.
When the sun got up on the following morning it found him and his little party some five miles from the camp, dismounted beneath a tope of trees, and cooking a hasty breakfast.
"We will send the harcarrahs ahead as soon as possible, Mulha," he said, as he paced restlessly up and down, for, to tell the truth, Owen had not yet acquired the great virtue of patience which comes to men of maturer age. Any delay fretted him, and on this occasion he would gladly have neglected the meal and pushed on.
"And what of the men, sahib?" asked Mulha, when he had expressed this intention. "They will soon become fatigued if you do not study their wants. It would[Pg 213] be wise to halt, so that man and beast may feed. Then it will matter little if no other opportunity occurs before the night comes."
And so a halt had been called, and the men had eased the girths of their saddles. And now they sat on their heels, in the accustomed position of the East, discussing their boiled rice, while they chatted quietly together. Owen was bound to confess that they were likely-looking men, these six whom he had chosen. Their uniforms were handsome and showed off their figures, while their turbans gave them an imposing appearance, which their fine horses and the lances they carried set off beautifully. At length, however, the meal was finished, girths were tightened, and the men threw themselves into their saddles. Then the harcarrahs scattered and rode off, their tats or small ponies looking very quaint beside the bigger animals of the native cavalry.
"They will go miles without showing fatigue, sahib," observed Mulha as the men rode off. "They will bring you news, and you will send it to the General."
"I shall do my best to discover something for myself," was the answer. "After all, that is what I am sent out for, though, of course, I cannot be supposed to see as much as all the spies. Still, if possible I shall get in touch with the enemy."
But an hour or more passed without incident, and it was not till it was approaching ten o'clock that our hero saw anything to attract his attention. He was riding at the head of his men, and as the sun was very hot, was[Pg 214] taking advantage of every atom of shade to be found. In consequence the little party walked their horses at the edge of a long stretch of jungle which offered a grateful shelter. Suddenly one of the men gave an exclamation of surprise and wheeled his horse.
"Sahib, look there!" he said, lifting his lance to point across the plain towards a long eminence. "There are horsemen, and they belong to the enemy."
Owen was off his horse in an instant, and had his eye glued to the spy-glass with which he was provided. And by its aid he was able to make out that the horsemen were undoubtedly the enemy.
"There are eight of them," he said, "and they are armed with lances like ourselves. They are riding this way."
"Then perhaps, sahib——" began Mulha.
"We must capture them. They may be able to give valuable information. Let us watch them for a time, and then we will charge."
Thanks to the fact that Owen and his party were riding in the shade, they had remained completely hidden from the enemy, while the latter being out on the plain were distinctly visible. Taking advantage of this the little party reined their horses still farther back in amongst the trees and waited eagerly for the moment when they might attack. Owen hitched his sabre a little farther to the front and eased the blade, while his hand sought the butt of his pistol. As for the troopers, they fidgeted in their saddles, lifting their lances now and again, and staring from the enemy towards their[Pg 215] young leader. Suspense is always more trying than action, and all found the waiting telling upon their patience.
"What is that?" suddenly demanded Owen. "There is a commotion amongst the horsemen, and——"
"It is one of the harcarrahs whom they have seen and are about to follow," suddenly exclaimed Mulha, pointing across the plain. "He came round the angle of the jungle, sahib, and then saw the enemy for the first time. He knows that we are here, and has turned this way."
"What are his chances?" demanded Owen quietly, as he stared out from the shadow.
"He will keep well ahead of the enemy for two miles perhaps, sahib. After that they will come up with him swiftly, for they are well mounted. They will overtake him just before he reaches us."
"Then we will interfere. Now, my men, stay quietly where you are till I give the command. Then ride out into the open, and form single line behind me. We will go through those men and scatter immediately, with the object of capturing a few."
Once more there was a restless movement amongst the troopers, while all eyes went to the native harcarrah who had so unexpectedly come upon the scene. Too late he had noticed the enemy, and now came spurring along the edge of the jungle at his utmost pace. And the Mahratta horse, seeing his object, galloped madly after him, their direction taking them diagonally across the plain. It became abundantly evident, when some[Pg 216] five minutes had passed, that the harcarrah's pony could not live with the beasts ridden by the Mahrattas. They were gaining on him faster even than Mulha had imagined possible, and long before Owen had intended to give the order he found it necessary to emerge from the shelter of the forest.
"Walk!" he commanded. "Trot! Gallop! Now, keep your horses in hand till I give the word. Then at them!"
His sabre came out of its sheath with a hiss and went to his shoulder. He gripped his reins in his left hand, and set his feet home in the stirrups. And as he did so the pace of the little troop increased from a gentle canter to a gallop. They were sweeping along across the plain at a pace which brought a gleam of excitement to his eyes, and as yet the enemy had not seen them. But within a few seconds there was a shout and the Mahrattas drew rein suddenly.
"Do not stop, sahib. Push on! They will see that we are few and may wait for the attack."
For a few moments it seemed as if the enemy would turn tail and fly, but seeing that only a few were riding towards them, and that there was only one white man amongst them, for the turbans and dress of the troopers were distinct at that distance, they faced Owen and his men and set their horses at a trot. In a moment they were galloping, and as Owen watched them, their long lances, a formidable weapon for which they were famous, came down to the horizontal, while their pace developed into a charge. Owen stood in his stirrups[Pg 217] and turned to his men with a smile. Then he waved them on with his sabre, and swinging round in his saddle set his horse galloping at his fastest pace. The dust flew up in columns behind him, while the hoarse shouts of the enemy came to his ears. He leaned forward, sinking low in his seat, while his eye sought for the leader of the enemy. Before it appeared possible the two parties were within a few yards of each other, and it seemed that they would meet with a terrible crash. But, almost as the lances of the contending parties crossed, the Mahrattas lost heart. Owen could see them pulling at their horses, and in a second they would have cut out to his right and so avoided the charge.
"To the right! To the right!" he shouted, while he turned his own horse in that direction. The troopers, riding almost level with him now, obeyed the order instantly, and catching the Mahrattas on the flank hurled them to the ground like ninepins. Two of the enemy were transfixed with the lances, while four who were farthest on the left managed to elude the troopers and were not upset. But Owen dashed after them without delay, while four of his men followed. The chase was a short and sharp one. Thanks to the fine horse he rode Owen quickly overhauled the nearest of the enemy, and standing in his stirrups prepared to cut the man down if he would not draw rein. Then suddenly the Mahratta twisted in his saddle, aimed a pistol at his head and fired. There was a thud as the bullet, missing the mark by half an inch, struck the saddle of the[Pg 218] trooper behind. Then Owen's sabre came down with a crash, and the man dropped out of his saddle, stunned by the blow, the full force of which had been broken by the thick turban he was wearing. A minute later the remainder had surrendered, and Owen found himself in possession of prisoners.
"One of our men has a lance wound in the thigh, sahib," said Mulha, coming to his master, and looking at him searchingly lest he, too, should be wounded. "Three of the enemy are killed, and two slightly hurt. What are your orders?"
For answer our hero drew his handkerchief from his coat and mopped his forehead, while he looked back at Mulha. He was gasping for breath, and as yet was hardly prepared to issue orders.
"There are many hours before the darkness comes, sahib," went on Mulha. "These men have not ridden far to-day, that I feel sure of, for their horses, in spite of the charge, are fresh, and not travel-stained. It may be that the camp of these Mahrattas is near, and if that were so——"
"We must see it, and locate the position. But how can we be sure? Can the harcarrah say?"
"He may be able, sahib, but if he cannot, the prisoners will speak. Remember the ruffian aboard the pirate ship which we captured. There are ways of making men speak. I will see what can be done."
He went off to the troopers, who had now gathered the prisoners together, and had dismounted, while Owen interviewed the harcarrah, discovering that he had failed[Pg 219] to locate the enemy. Calling two of them aside, Mulha selected one of the Mahrattas, who appeared to be the leader of the party which had been captured, and with the troopers following brought the man to Owen.
"Say where you have come from, and where the forces of Scindia and his ally are camped," he demanded sternly, as the troopers ranged themselves up beside the prisoner. "So! You cannot remember? Then we will help you. Get your carbines."
He sent the men back for their weapons, while he faced the prisoner, looking at him unconcernedly, as if his action were one of the commonest. And as Owen watched the scene, not caring to interfere, for it was important to have information, though he hardly liked to obtain it by means of threats, he noticed that the Mahratta's courage was melting. Out of the corners of his eyes the prisoner watched the troopers go to their horses and lift their carbines from the buckets in which they were carried. He heard the metallic click as the locks were drawn back, and his heart weakened. He looked pleadingly at Owen and then back at the troopers.
"I will speak, sahib. The white lord shall know. Listen, my lord, this is where Scindia and his friend, the Rajah of Berar, lie."
A trembling hand went out towards the highland from which the Mahratta horse had first appeared.
"Sahib, they are encamped on the river Kaitna, on its north bank, and only a half-hour's ride from here. We were out foraging, for provisions are scarce. Will[Pg 220] my lord offer protection to me? These native troopers would slay me without mercy."
"Silence! This Scindia is within half an hour's ride. What troops has he?"
Mulha interrupted the man, and coolly ranged his two troopers up before him, so that their carbines might be in full evidence.
"I will tell all that I know," answered the prisoner in piteous tones. "Scindia has all his battalions with him, and there are ten thousand at least of the troops trained by the French sahibs. Of other troops, there are as many again in the foot regiments, but these are irregulars. The cavalry number perhaps thirty thousand, while we have a hundred guns. That is the full total, on my lance and tulwar, sahib."
"And quite enough I should say," burst in Owen. "Fifty thousand men and a hundred guns!"
"And within four miles, sahib," added Mulha.
"While our troops must be quite as far behind us, if not more. This is very important information, for if the enemy are so near us, and in such force, it would seem as if the combination of our two divisions would be impossible. Perhaps the Mahrattas intend to attack the divisions separately. I will ask this prisoner."
He slipped from his horse and went towards the man. Mulha accompanied him, and stepping to within a foot of the unhappy Mahratta looked into his eyes with such a sinister expression that the man quailed. "He will speak at once, sahib. Ask him the[Pg 221] questions, and listen, dog! See that you reply on the instant, and correctly."
Mulha had little love for the class of Mahratta who had sided with Scindia, and in addition he made pretence of anger which he did not feel. Every day Owen was learning that, besides being a faithful fellow, he was an astute native, who knew his countrymen well. Had our hero been left to extract information it is more than probable that his training would have made him hesitate and decline to use threats to gain what he wanted. However, Mulha had no scruples. He knew well that the natives of the country were as prone to dissemble and give false news as they were to pilfer and murder, and he knew that stern measures were required. And how well those measures had succeeded! As the prisoner looked at Mulha and then at the troopers, with their loaded carbines, any returning courage that he may have felt oozed from his finger-tips, or through the sandals he wore. His colour changed to a sickly hue, the pallor of the East, and his lips trembled.
"Tell me more of this army," demanded Owen. "Are they now encamped, or are they preparing to march against the English?"
He waited anxiously for the answer, knowing that a great deal depended on it, and heaved a sigh of relief when the man had spoken.
"My lord can rest easy on that point. The troops of Scindia are in position for the day. They will not move till to-morrow, and not even then perhaps. They know that the British are advancing, and it is said in[Pg 222] the camp that Scindia will attack each division in turn."
"That will do. Set a watch over the prisoners, and get ready to accompany me, Mulha," exclaimed Owen at once, his tone changing. "We must not delay an instant longer than is necessary."
His hand went to his leather pouch and he abstracted the note-book which he had obtained from the orderly-room. Then he hastily scrawled an account of his meeting with the Mahrattas, and of the information given him. Tearing the sheet out of the book, he enclosed the map, marking on it the position which he then occupied and that where the prisoner stated the enemy to be.
"I am advancing at speed to ascertain the truth of this," he wrote, "and will report at the first opportunity."
"Now, Mulha, I will select two of the men. The others must escort the prisoners back to camp. Tie their hands, and put a noose round their feet beneath the horse's belly. They must submit to that seeing that we have so few to guard them."
A few moments later he had selected one of the troopers to carry his note, and at a sharp order the man swung himself into his saddle, saluted, and galloped off at furious speed, intent on getting the note to General Wellesley in as short a time as possible. The prisoners and their escort followed, while Owen, Mulha, and the remaining trooper set their faces to the highland, and cantered toward it.
"Time is the main object," said our hero as they[Pg 223] went along. "We will not push our horses yet, but once we have seen the position of the enemy we will send them back towards the division at a pace which will soon take us there. Keep a sharp eye open, and as we get near to the top of the rising ground, halt and dismount."
There was silence after that as the three rode on towards the hills. Owen occupied the central place, with Mulha and the trooper on either side. And presently they were breasting the rise. Selecting a tope of trees Owen rode into it, and throwing one leg over the saddle slipped quietly to the ground. Mulha was at his side in an instant, and caught his rein as he let it drop. Then he ran on up the hill, keeping in the shelter of the trees, and finally halted on the very summit, where he lay down, partly to recover his breath, and partly so that he should not be seen by the enemy. But he could not be still, with the thought that the enemy was so close at hand. Grasping his sabre in one hand to keep it out of his way and from clattering against the ground or the trees, he crawled on some yards till a sudden opening and a falling of the ground gave him a clear view of the country beyond. Then indeed he came to a halt with a gasp of amazement and delight. For beneath him ran the Kaitna, a deep and strong stream, supposed by the enemy to be unfordable, while its course was east and west. To his right was another river, the Juah, joining with the Kaitna, and cutting off a strip of land between the two rivers which, commencing as an acute-angled piece, widened out till[Pg 224] it was of large proportions. And it was here, with his front facing the north bank of the Kaitna and looking towards Owen, that our hero discovered the army of Scindia comfortably encamped, with its guns parked and its lines filled with a multitude of soldiers and hucksters. Not a scout or sentry was to be seen beyond the river, though there were sentries on the outskirts of the camp, and on the right a strong outpost of horsemen. Indeed, a glance showed Owen that it was there that the 30,000 horsemen were stationed. At once his pocket-book came out, and as he lay there he rapidly sketched in the position of the rivers, their junction, and the disposition of the various arms. That done, he crawled away again and ran to the horses. Swinging himself into the saddle, he turned to see that the others were ready.
"Is the news true, sahib?" Mulha ventured to ask him. Then, when he had heard the few details which Owen could give him, he shook his head vigorously.
"Well as I know the English and their great courage, they will never dare to attack now, before the divisions are joined," he said. "Remember, there are perhaps twenty thousand troops there who have been trained by French officers, and they have done well with the men. Besides, there is the river. How can it be crossed? Who can say that it is fordable?"
"The very thing! The most important thing!" burst in Owen. "We must make inquiries. There is a village over there, and perhaps it would be possible to get one of the inhabitants to help us."
They discussed the matter for a few moments, and then turning their horses galloped down to the village. It was almost empty, all the men being away in the camp, disposing of their various possessions. But as the trio drew up at the biggest hut a woman came out, and eagerly answered their questions.
"A ford, my lords?" she said. "Would that I could say that there was not one! But there is, and it is by that that my man has gone, together with all the others from this place. They have been selling goods to the soldiers, and spending their time gambling and smoking. There! Look at the bank, where the trees crop up together. The ford is within a few feet on the right, and any one can find it, for there are wheel-marks. Had I command of the men yonder I would never have encamped in such a spot. But they are all the same. This Scindia thinks that he is secure, and has not troubled to look for himself with his own eyes, or he would have seen this ford."
It was evident that Scindia and his men were no friends of hers, and Owen felt confident that her information was all the more correct. He tossed her a piece of money and rode down the street. Once out of the village, he set spurs to his horse, and did not draw rein till he had covered six miles. At that distance he found the division, which he had left before daybreak, weary and tired after a fourteen-mile march, and just about to encamp for the night. But there was to be no rest for the soldiers, for within half an hour of Owen's arrival the bugles were going, and the[Pg 226] order was, "Boot and saddle! Stand to your arms!"
"Fall in with your company, Mr. Jones," said the General, when Owen had handed him his sketch and explained the positions and strength of the enemy. "I am obliged to you for the news you bring. It is of importance."
Nothing more. Just a curt acknowledgment of his work. But General Wellesley was a soldier who never wasted his breath, and more especially when there was important work before him. Calling for his horse, he gave orders that the division should march for the highland ahead, and then rode on to reconnoitre with his staff. It was very obvious that he had made up his mind to attack, and had there been any doubt on this matter it was instantly set at rest when he had himself seen the position of the enemy. "They cannot escape me!" he cried with the utmost confidence.
It was approaching one o'clock before the division had come up and marched into position, but there was no halting. Leading the men along to the east, past the right of the enemy, there composed solely of cavalry, and of course camped on the opposite bank of the river Kaitna, Wellesley marched down the front of the Mahrattas till he had passed Scindia's left. Then he swept to the left, opposite the village of Assaye, situated on the strip of land between the two rivers at their junction, and taking the path pointed out by Owen had no difficulty in finding the ford. A little later his infantry were across the stream, facing the guns and infantry[Pg 227] of the enemy, this arm having been faced round to oppose them. And thus, in the early afternoon the two forces made ready for a battle which was to prove decisive. Let the reader think of the audacity of the British. Here was a force of Mahrattas estimated at 55,000 horse and foot, of whom a large number were trained and seasoned battalions. There were in addition 100 guns. Truly a formidable armament. And against this host marched the British, their General at their head, numbering, according to one authority, 1200 cavalry, 2000 sepoys, and 1300 European infantry, consisting of the 74th and 78th Highland regiments, a host in themselves. In addition we had a few guns and some 3000 native cavalry from the Peishwa, who were known to be on the eve of mutiny. No wonder that Scindia and his host stood amazed at the very audacity of such an undertaking.