Gil the Gunner by George Manville Fenn (rainbow fish read aloud TXT) 📕

A thrill ran through me at the colonel’s mention of Nussoor, and I listened eagerly to Brace’s reply, for I had felt in a dread lest he should oppose the plan of marching on that city, though I was obliged to own that it was quite possible that my father’s regiment might have left there in these disturbed times, and of course he would have placed my mother and sister where they would be safe.

After a little discussion, it was decided that we should stay twenty-four hours where we were, to recruit the men and horses, for, though the men all declared their readiness to go on at once, the infantry had had a very severe forced march or two, and required rest.

It was a terrible experience—a walk or two I had about the town with Brace during that halt, one which was utilised for collecting an ample supply of provisions and recruiting followers for our little camp, and I remember asking Brace whether he thought it wise to trust the natives.

“Yes and no, Gil,” he said. “I am not blind; I can see that every one here in this place humbles himself to the dust before us as the conquerors, and is ready to obey our slightest command; but, if we met with a reverse, they would rise and trample on us to a man, and glory in murdering such a set of unclean, infidel dogs as we are. But it is a necessity, my lad. We want our lads to fight, and they must be always ready for action. We cannot have them exhausted in this terrible climate, carrying loads, cutting grass for the horses, foraging for the elephants, and cooking. We must have hewers of wood and drawers of water, my dear boy, and keep a strict watch over these modern children of Gibeon. We cannot trust them, but we must have their services.”

“Yes, I see,” I replied.

“And there is this advantage: we are journeying through a strange country, which they know. We must eat, so must they. We should not be able to forage; they are, and in finding food for themselves they are compelled to find it for us. No, we cannot trust them. Look here. For aught we know, the men who are bowing down before us, and calling us sahibs, had a hand in this.”

We had reached a large bungalow, which, we afterwards learned, had been the commissioner’s house, and as I went with my companion from room to room, which at one time must have been furnished in exquisite taste, there were traces of the wanton destruction of a savage mob. Furniture had been smashed, the floor was littered with the remains of mirrors and ornaments; curtains and carpets were torn to shreds, and everything that could be battered and destroyed was in pieces.

It was so in the next room, and we were about to pass on to others, with the picture rising to my mind of what this place must have been before the rising, when Brace suddenly stepped before me, swung me round hastily, and gave me a push.

“Here, let’s get out of the miserable place, Gil,” he said hastily.

“You were too late,” I said. “I saw it the same moment. It’s of no use; I may as well get accustomed to such things, even if I am a mere boy.”

For, in one corner of the once handsome room, there were spots and splashes on the white wall, and terrible stains on the floor. The plaster of the sides, too, was scarred and dotted with bullet holes, and we could grasp the terrible fact that some one, probably more than one, had made a desperate defence in that corner, for there was a sword, broken in two pieces, lying behind a shattered piano, in whose woodwork were dozens of cuts, such as might have been given by savage men trying to get at those behind who had made it their breastwork; and as I saw all this, I could not refrain from going close—Brace making no opposition now—to see other terrible traces of the desperate fight of which this place must have been the scene.

One of the first things I saw behind the broken piano was a white handkerchief, horribly stained. It had been apparently hastily folded into a bandage, and tied round some one’s head, the knots being still there, and the kerchief lying on the floor, forming a rough circle. Close by were pieces of a woman’s dress, one fragment being a sleeve, evidently torn off in a desperate struggle. But the most horrible traces were those which told in simple language the result of the desperate defence that must have taken place; for, at the far end of the piano, where it stood about three feet from the wall, there lay a double rifle, broken off at the stock, a bayonet snapped at the socket, and between them, marks which showed only too plainly that the defenders of that corner of the room had been dragged out by the feet, and out through a farther door.

“Come away, Gil,” said Brace, hoarsely; “it only makes me feel mad against these wretches; and at a time when, with the work I have in hand, I want to be calm and cool as a judge.”

At that moment there was a furious roar from somewhere at the back of the house, and Brace’s hand went to his sword on the instant, mine naturally following suit.

“Draw, lad!” he cried. “We had no business to come without an escort. Keep close to me.”

But a second burst of shouting reassured us. No one but Englishmen could raise an indignant cry such as we heard.

“What does it mean?” I said, as we hurried out through the door, out of which the poor creatures who had defended themselves had been dragged, and we came directly upon about a dozen of our men, with some of the foot regiment.

“This way, sir—this way!” cried one of the men, who was in a terrible state of excitement; and unable to grasp more than that the men had been foraging about, and had made some discovery, they hurried us on to what must have been a kind of summer-house in a pleasant garden with a goldfish tank, and various other proofs of the taste of the late occupants of the place.

In this tank were various objects, apparently thrown in by the fierce mob which had plundered the house; while, as we drew near, there was just before us a heap of furniture and household goods, which had been piled up in front of the summer-house entrance, and fired, evidently to blaze furiously for a time, and with the object of burning down the summer-house as well.

A number of the half-burnt and charred things had been dragged away by the soldiers so as to clear the doorway, prompted, no doubt, by curiosity to see what was in the place the mob had tried to burn down; and, as we neared the spot, and the men, who were half mad with excitement, made way for us to look in, I felt for the moment as if turned to stone, and then the tears started to my eyes, weak as it may sound to say so, and formed a veil which shut out the horrors of the scene before me.

Shall I describe it? Yes; from no morbid wish to dwell upon the frightful scenes which, alas! grew too common, but as some palliation of the acts of our men, against whom charges were plentiful about their want of mercy.

Twelve poor creatures lay there, but only two were men in the prime of life, and who, hacked almost to pieces, had died bravely in the defence of their wives, sisters, and the helpless children, who lay in a heap with them—nine white women and children; and, holding it tightly to her breast even in death, a black woman, the faithful ayah or nurse of the infant she held, in protecting and trying to save which she had died.

I will try to describe no more, save that the funeral pyre, which the murderers had raised to hide their crime, had not reached them, not a garment being singed.

The men stood back, panting as if after a hard run, watching us now, as if to see what effect it would have upon us, and the silence after their fierce oaths and shouting was terrible.

As we drew back, one of our corporals cried fiercely—

“We don’t want no more rest, sir. Take us on at once.”

“Oh,” shouted another, “how can we hold our hands after this, sir?”

“Ay,” cried an Irish gunner, who was one of the party, “we were ready to foight the mutineers as min again min; but it isn’t min, lads—it’s savage bastes. And, hurrah! boys, come and take a last look of the poor darlins, to harden your hearts!”

“Halt!” cried Brace, sternly. “Joliffe,—Brian, advance; draw! Stand sentry at this door. No one is to profane the resting-place of our dead. Go back, my lads; you want no such sight to nerve your arms for the work we have to do.”

The men uttered a low murmur of acquiescence, and, without orders, fell in and marched behind us to the spot we had made our head-quarters. Here there was a short consultation between the officers, and directly a party of men was marched out to the foot of a clump of trees, where one great shallow grave was dug, and an hour afterwards, every man under arms, and the infantry lining the road to keep back the crowd of natives gathered from all parts of the town, the remains of the unfortunate people were borne, reverently draped, on the guns and tumbrils of our troop, to the open grave, laid therein carefully, the colonel said a short prayer, a volley was fired, the last resting-place of the two civil officials and their families was filled in, and a cross carved upon the nearest tree.

Long before the little ceremony was over, I saw that the natives, of whom a great crowd had collected, were beginning to steal away, till scarcely a soul was left; but I thought very little of this, for supposing that their curiosity was satisfied, it did not appear strange to me that they should go back to their homes. Perhaps, I thought, they may think we shall take vengeance upon them.

But this fact suddenly took Brace’s attention, just as the final duties were being paid to the dead; and, turning sharply to the colonel of the foot regiment, he said sharply—

“The people are drawing off; there must be some reason.”

Hardly had he spoken, when a shot was fired at a distance, followed by another and another; and in an instant our men sprang to their places, while half a mile down the road we could see the infantry, which had lined the sides, running back as hard as they could, men from each flank joining them, and the road growing full of a retreating detachment, toward which a couple of officers ran, giving orders as they went, with the result that the men nearer to us fell in and took position, line behind line, across the road, while those retreating in the extreme distance suddenly halted in the same formation.

The next minute the cause was evident, for a strong body of mounted men dashed into sight far down the road, and tore along as if to ride over the little line of men, and then sweep the place.

But their shouting and yelling did not scare the men in the least. They stood firm, waiting in double line, till the sowars were close upon them, and then delivered a sharp volley, the front rank going down on one knee directly, with their bayonets sloping upward, while the