Vellenaux / A Novel

by E. W. Forrest

It was a lovely night, Corinnua in her glory diffused her soft silvery light far and near rendering the shades of the jungle still more deep by contrast. All was hushed in silence; the busy hum in the village had ceased and no sound broke on the silent night, except the occasional bark of the Parrier dog, or the cry of the lurking jackall and the measured tread of the native sentinel, as he paced to and fro in front of the door of the tent. The remainder of the small guard were soundly sleeping in a little routie tent on the opposite side of the road.

Arthur had been out shooting the latter part of the afternoon and evening, and had, as usual, taken from the village several natives as guides and beaters. On his return he had called them to the door of his tent, opened one of his trunks, and out of a bag, containing two or three hundred rupees, paid them liberally for their trouble; one of the party he noticed appeared to eye the bag with a greedy, covetous eye, but he said nothing, and the party left, seeming well satisfied with what they had received. After indulging in a bath he was ready for the evening meal, which consisted of chicken, curry or broiled partridge with several etceteras, which he washed down with a bottle of Allsopps' pale ale, and betook himself to his easy chair and cheeroot under the majestic Tamarinds, which were undulating gently in the soft breeze of the evening.

There was a small shade lamp burning on the camp table by the side of the iron cot, on which Arthur had thrown himself, being somewhat tired of his ramble in the jungle. He had taken up a volume of the Pindaree war, but had not perused more than a dozen pages when he felt drowsy and sleepy. He had accustomed himself to sleep with his revolver under his pillow, his right hand grasping the handle. Somewhere about eleven o'clock he was lying on his back with his left arm thrown across his chest, and his hand over his face, half asleep and half awake, he fancied he heard a sound similar to that made by sand rats or rabbits while burrowing. The sinister look of the Bheel he had paid in the evening instantly flashed across his mind. Separating his fingers, sufficiently to admit of his seeing through them, he glanced in the direction from which the sound proceeded, and waited patiently, keeping a firm grasp of his pistol. Presently the sand beneath the wall of the tent near the foot of his cot gave way gradually, and a small aperture presented itself, which increased by degrees. By and by the head and shoulders of the identical Bheel showed themselves inside the tent; his hawk eye darted a rapid glance all around, but most especially at the prostrate and apparently sleeping form of Carlton he then drew the remainder of his body, which was perfectly naked, through the aperture and stood erect and for a few seconds remained at the foot of Arthur's bed, and listened to the heavy breathing which he effected; then, with a gliding motion, moved towards the trunk containing the rupees, but still keeping his face half turned in the direction of the bed so that he could observe the slightest alteration, should any be made in the position of its occupant, he then endeavored to force open the lid with his creese, but finding he could not succeed in this, he took from behind his ear a small piece of wire, with which he attempted to pick the lock, but in order to effect this he had to rest his eye on the key hole for a second or two. This was the moment for which Arthur had been anxiously waiting. Instantly the eyes of the Bheel were withdrawn from him. He brought his revolver from under his pillow, and passing it beneath the light coverlet, placed the barrel across his left leg, which he gently raised, at the same time removing the cloth clear of the muzzle, brought it in line with the ribs of the robber and fired. The bullet went straight to the heart, and the ruffian Bheel fell dead without uttering a groan or sound.

"What is the matter," enquired the sentry, stopping at the door of the tent, which had been closed to keep out the night dews.

"Nothing," Arthur had promptly replied, "I have discharged my pistol by accident, and am going to reload it, that is all. But when the Nique comes with the relief tell him to send the Havildar to me, I wish to speak to him." The sentinel then resumed his walk up and down his post. Arthur then with his hands quietly enlarged the hole by which the robber had entered, into which he pushed the body and covered it with the sand which had been thrown up, and the tent resumed its original appearance; then, after washing his hands and refilling the empty chamber of his revolver, he dressed himself for the march.

At twelve o'clock the Havildar made his sallam at the tent door. "Come in, Havildar," said Carlton, "I have changed my mind; instead of marching at four a.m., the usual hour, I wish to start with as little delay as possible. Go round, wake up the cart men and have the cattle put to with as little noise as practicable, fall in the guard, and, when we have moved off some distance, I will tell you the reason of this change in the hour of marching. Let everything be done as quietly as may be; also tell the Syce to bring my horse round directly." The Havildar received his orders (native like) without remark, saluted and went to see them carried out. When the escort had got about a mile from where they had encamped, Arthur related what had taken place in his tent the night previous. This was a sufficient inducement for them to accelerate their speed to the utmost in order to get beyond the precincts of the Bheel, as they well knew that in the event of the discovery of the body the whole village would turn out en masse to revenge his death, but having some four hours start Arthur and his party arrived at the station—where he was to part from them—without molestation or pursuit, as far as he was aware of.

CHAPTER V.

This adventure fully developed his coolness and courage when aroused to immediate action by any unexpected danger. This gained for Arthur the favorable opinion of his brother officers. Although he, on joining, made no mention of the circumstance, until in course of casual conversation the affair leaked out. Soon after joining he wrote to Sir Jasper informing him of his safe arrival, and to Edith a long and interesting account of his journey from Calcutta to Karricabad, in which he portrayed with faithful accuracy his encounter with a Bheel, and many other incidents which he thought likely would interest or amuse her. In describing the scenery and general features of the wild districts he had to pass through, he said:

"After traversing for miles the hot and dusty plains of Hindostan, quite unexpectedly you will come upon a tope or grove of fruit trees, planted in regular rows, with a well or tank of spring water, and a place to bathe in built in the centre, where the weary and way-worn traveller could bathe and wash away the heat and dust of the road, and cool his parched throat with a draught of the pure element, gather as much of the rich fruit as he may wish, to appease his appetite if hungry; then, in the soft mossy grass, beneath the overhanging branches which effectually protect him from the heat and glare of the sun, enjoy a sound sleep, awake refreshed and proceed on his way rejoicing. In European countries where hotels and places of accomodation are to be met with at every turn, this may appear of little moment, but in the East where there are no such places to obtain food or shelter from the powerful rays of the sun, this is an inestimable boon. On enquiring how these Topes or groves came to grow in places so far distant from any other cultivation, I was informed that they were planted by rich high caste natives, as a penance that was imposed upon them by the Brahmin priests for sins of omission or commission against their creed. By the way, I heard the other day a good story concerning these said Topes. It appears that a certain ensign of the Company's service, who had been furnished with his commission and outfit by an elderly maiden aunt of a serious and pious turn of mind, whose positive injunctions to him on leaving England were that he was not to attempt to impose upon her with any account of dangers, difficulties, or surprising adventures that were not strictly true, for she hated liars, and would cut him out of her will if she detected him indulging in anything of the sort; but requested that he would write to her a full, true and particular account of his first battle, should he be engaged in one.

"At the commencement of his first campaign he wrote to the old lady a long descriptive letter, but unfortunately he did not pay sufficient attention to his orthography, and so came to grief, for one paragraph of the letter ran thus: