"So you heard them?" enquired Tom, as they joined him.
"Yes, and it's the most weird hearing, bar none, I've ever experienced!"
"No doubt there are mysterious happenings in this blessed old country. Things no one can explain; black magic and spells, and devil worship. Well, while you two have been listening to the march of ghostly soldiers, I've had a high old time with these three brutes. Now we must be getting home. I'm starving, and we have a good fifteen miles between us and supper." As he concluded, Tom turned about, and put his cob into a sharp canter.
CHAPTER XXVI
The dâk had been duly laid with six good horses, and Mallender's departure definitely fixed for the morrow. To celebrate his last ride at Wellunga, the little party had ridden unusually far afield,—indeed so far that on a certain eminence Tara pointed out to him a faint grey line on the horizon which she believed to be Seringapatam! But the young lady was mistaken. Through the golden haze of distance, the eyes of her imagination had merely descried a city in the air! It was late as the riders approached Wellunga, the sun was hot, and the animals were pretty well done, when within a couple of hundred yards of the General's bungalow, they heard frenzied yells from the direction of the bazaar, and coming from the same quarter, beheld a rolling cloud of yellow dust. As the dust gradually dispersed, there emerged from its shelter no less a sight than the processional horse—and man eater! He was loose, and rapidly approaching with streaming pink mane and tail. At first, he seemed only affected by the delight and abandonment of utter freedom, as he galloped headlong, kicking, squealing, and uttering a shrill equine war cry! but soon he descried the three horses, and Rustum, being of high degree, flung back a defiant challenge. In a second, the Khatiawari was chasing him open-mouthed, and Tara, frantically lashing her Arab, turned to fly; but Rustum was tired, the pursuer fresh, and full of pride and gram. Screaming and open-mouthed, he drove his prey right on to the brink of a deep nullah. Here he intended to overtake and destroy him,—for the Khatiawari came of an old native stock, who were bred and trained to kill, in the hideous horse-fights, so popular with the Rajahs of a bygone time.
Mallender instantly grasped the situation! There was not half a second to be lost; he wheeled about, drove his spurs into the brown, and with the intention of "riding him off," dashed between the monster and his victim.
The great white charger came thundering on, like some overwhelming, relentless force, and flung himself furiously with all his weight upon the intervener; there was a second's scrambling and scuffling, a crash of loose stones, and the next moment, the man and two horses had vanished,—been swallowed up by the yawning chasm.
The shrieks of the brutes were weird and blood-curdling, a mixture of rage, hate and agony. Meanwhile a howling, excited mob had come swarming out of the native town, and gathered round the scene; but no one appeared to be capable of doing anything beyond shout. Tara had dismounted, so had Tom! His face pale as death—of a dull shining whiteness; he looked dazed, and miserably uncertain what to do. As for Mrs. Beamish, the mainspring of the household, she sat in the verandah, facing the scene, with her apron over her head, her fingers in her ears endeavouring to deaden those ghastly sounds from the nullah; and truly, these were enough to freeze the marrow of the bones.
At this moment, an unexpected figure in every sense rose to the occasion. The old General, who for a long time had been unable to move unassisted, suddenly walked out into the compound, waving a stick—his scarlet dressing-gown fluttering behind him. To the spectators, it was almost as if the dead had returned to life!—This aged tottering veteran had suddenly cast off the weight of years, and once more taken the field. The sight was as startling to the crowd as the recent, and still hideously audible, horror. A ghost among living men, Richard Beamish stood perfectly erect, his old eyes flamed, his old voice shouted orders, he was as one inspired with a great spirit,—surely a miracle was wrought before their eyes!