Gil the Gunner Part 64

"My lord must forgive his servant, but there is need. My lord is weak and unarmed, and there are tigers sometimes in the forest. Should one spring upon my lord, I should pray that he would then spring upon me, for I could never face his highness again. Hark! That is six times I have heard one cry these last few days. And there are budmashes, too, journeying about, evil men who have been robbing and murdering after the fights. If they saw my lord's white face, they would fall upon him, and then when his highness came and said, 'Where is my lord?' how could I face his fierce wrath?"

I made no reply, but strolled back to the wide opening in front of my tent, pa.s.sed it, and found myself face to face with another sentry, to whom I paid not the slightest heed, but bore off to the right, to find another and another.

After this, pretty well satisfied that I was well guarded, and seeing here the reason why I had had no visitor again, I returned to my tent, encountering Salaman on the way.

"Why, Salaman," I said, "you keep pretty good guard."

"It is his highness's orders, my lord."

"How many men have you on sentry?"

"Twenty, my lord; and there are forty in the guard-tent, waiting to go on duty in turn."

"What?" I cried. "I thought you only had about six men here."

"Only six by day, my lord; these others march over every night to go on duty."

"Then there is no one on guard in the day?"

"Oh yes, my lord; but they are mounted men with lances; they watch the roads here for a mile round."

I went into the tent, just as a low distant cry told of the proximity of a tiger somewhere on the border of the forest.

I was vexed with myself, for my conduct was, I felt, so transparent that my guardian must be sure to see that I was meditating escape.

"How carefully he guards me!" I thought, as I threw myself on my couch.

"No wonder the bearer of the letter has not been here again."

And there I lay thinking of my position--of the rajah's offer, and, tempting as it seemed, the more I thought, the more I felt how impossible it was to turn from my duty as an English officer, to become the servant and _aide_ of one of our deadliest enemies.

"It can't be," I muttered. "I would sooner die."

And, as I said this, I thought of how likely it would be that this would be my fate; for, under the smooth velvety ways of the rajah, I could see that there were sharp feline claws, and that, however great his liking for me might be if I yielded and acted as he wished, there was all the fierceness of the Eastern semi-savage, ready to spring out with volcanic fury if I persisted in thwarting him to the end.

I could not help pitying myself as I lay there, for I was growing stronger again, and that mounting of the horse had, short as the enjoyment was, revived in me all my love of exciting action; and was I-- so young as I was--a mere boy, to give up all this when forced, as it were, by circ.u.mstances? I had but to say "yes," and become the greatest man in the rajah's domains.

"But I can't do it. I won't do it," I said pa.s.sionately. "I was not trained in a military school by brave, honourable gentlemen, to give up and become a renegade. And I will not believe, either, that England is so beaten that the native rajahs are going to have all their own way."

Somehow, in spite of my desperate position, fully expecting that, at my next refusal, the rajah would flash out and try force to bring me to his way, I felt after my calm, quiet, nightly prayer, out there in the silence of that forest, more at rest and full of hope.

"Things generally mend when they come to the worst," I said, with a sigh; and now, giving up all expectation of any visitor making his way to my couch that night, I lay listening to the faint calling of the huge cat that was prowling about, gazing the while at my shaded lamp, round which quite a dozen moths were circling, and finally dropped off to sleep.

It was late in the morning when I opened my eyes, to find the white figure of Salaman patiently in attendance, waiting for me to get up.

He smiled as soon as he saw that I was awake, and threw open the folds of the tent door to admit the suns.h.i.+ne. Then, with all the skill and cleverness of the native valet, he carefully waited on me, relieving me of all difficulties due to my wounded arm, which was painful in the extreme if I attempted to move it, and when I was nearly dressed, turned silently to the door to signal to his men to be ready with my early coffee.

"The morning is _very_ hot, my lord," he said; "and I have told them to place the breakfast under the tree. It is a fresh spot, which I hope my lord will like."

At that moment there was a low moaning cry, as of some one in pain, hurried steps, loud voices, and then a dull thud, as if some one had fallen.

Salaman ran out of the tent, and I followed, to find that, some twenty yards away, a figure in ragged white garments was lying on the ground, his face covered with blood, which literally dyed his garments; and as he lay there upon his breast with his arms extended, one hand held a little round s.h.i.+eld, the other grasped a b.l.o.o.d.y sword.

"What is it?" cried Salaman to four of his men, who were standing about the prostrate figure.

"As we live, we do not know," said one of them. "He came running up, crying for help, and when we spoke, he looked back as if frightened, and struggled on till he fell, as you see."

"He has been attacked by budmashes," said another.

"No," said the first. "Look at his long beard; he is a holy man--a fakir."

At that moment the poor fellow tried to raise himself, and groaned out the words, "Bagh, bagh!"

"Ah!" cried Salaman, bending down over him.

"Quick! some cotton--some water," I said; "the poor fellow has been attacked and mauled by a tiger."

"Bagh, bagh!" groaned the man again, and he struggled up now to rest upon his s.h.i.+eld-hand, gazing wildly round, and, shuddering before seeming satisfied that the danger was pa.s.sed, he raised his curved sword and looked at it.

By this time one of the men had fetched some strips of cotton, and another brought fresh water, a portion of which the fakir drank heartily, but resented the attendant's action, as he sought to bathe his face, but submitted willingly to having his arm washed and the wounds tied up.

They proved to be only superficial; but, all the same, they were four ugly scratches down the fleshy part of the man's left arm, while over his right shoulder there were three more marks, which had bled pretty freely; and now, as I stood by helpless myself, I listened as he told the attendants how he was slowly journeying, thinking of staying by the first well, as the sun was growing hot, the tiger suddenly sprang out at him, alighting upon his back, and sending him down insensible. That he had come to, struggled up, and was on his way again, sick, but eager to get away from the edge of the forest, when the tiger had appeared again, creeping from tuft of gra.s.s to bush, tracking him, he said, as a cat does a mouse, and always threatening to spring.

For long enough this continued, till at last it sprang, after the poor fellow had suffered that most intense agony of dread. As the tiger sprang, he in turn had involuntarily crouched, holding the sword before him, so that the savage beast leaped right upon it, as it struck him down, deluging him with blood, and then uttering a snorting yell as it bounded away again amongst the low growth of the forest-side.

He rose and continued his retreat, but the beast appeared again, still skulking along near the track, and threatening to spring, but with a rush back it had plunged into some dry gra.s.s; and had not reappeared as he staggered on, faint with terror, till he had caught sight of one of my attendants, and run on here, to fall completely exhausted.

They led the poor fellow away as, after seeing that he was out of danger, I turned from him in disgust, and soon after was seated at my morning meal.

"How is the old man?" I asked Salaman. "Have you given him a bath?"

"Oh no, my lord."

"A few chatties thrown over him ought to do him good."

"But he is a holy man, my lord. He would be ready to curse us, if we did so. He has not washed for years."

"He looked it," I said. "But why?"

"Who knows, my lord? Perhaps he had sworn an oath. He is one of the blessed."

"Will he go on to-day?"

"No, my lord. He will stay till he is strong enough to go. It is a blessing on our camp for him to be here, and the tiger must have been possessed of the evil spirit to dare to attack a fakir."

"Well, don't let him come near me," I said. "I believe that cleanliness is next to G.o.dliness, Salaman. You are strange people: if I, a Christian, drink out of one of your vessels, you would say it was defiled, and break it. But you go and handle that nasty, dirty old man, and say it is a blessing for him to come."

"Yes, my lord; he is a fakir."

"Very good," I said; "but, I repeat, don't let him come near me."