“‘There is positive proof for you that I’m not dreaming, nor my vision a shadow.’
“On that the Captain became almost as alarmed as I was, and a sentry was posted near the door of the mosque to prevent anyone entering it.
“The sleeping men were aroused, and the fire smothered out by jars of water. Then Captain Dawson and I, with an escort of four men, went round the rooms. As Wilson, one of the escort, was peering into a room, a concealed sepoy struck him over the head with his tulwâr; but his bonnet saved him, and Captain Dawson put a pistol bullet through the sepoy to save further trouble.
“After all was quiet the men rolled off to sleep again, and I too lay down and tried to sleep. My nerves were, however, too much shaken, and the burnt hand kept me awake, so I lay and listened to the men sleeping round me. And what a night that was! The horrible scenes through which the men had passed during the day had told with terrible effect upon their nerves, and the struggles with death in the Secundrabâgh were fought over again by some of the men in their sleep, oaths and shouts of defiance being often strangely intermingled with prayers.
“One man would be lying calmly asleep and then suddenly break out into a fierce battle-cry of ‘Cawnpore! you bloody murderer!’ Another would shout, ‘Charge! give them the bayonet!’ and a third, ‘Keep together, boys; don’t fire yet. Forward! forward! If we are to die, let us die like men!’
“Then I would hear one muttering, ‘Oh, mother, forgive me, and I’ll never leave you again.’ So it was through all that memorable night, and I have no doubt it was the same at the other posts. At last I dozed off and dreamed of blood and battle, and anon of Dee or Don side and the Braemar gathering; then the scene would change, and I was a little boy again, kneeling beside my mother, saying my evening hymn. Verily Campbell’s ‘Soldier’s Dream’ is no fiction.”
Next morning they found plenty of pumpkins and piles of flat cakes already cooked, but no salt; but Mitchell had an old matchbox full of salt in his haversack. An old veteran who used to tell stories of Waterloo had said to him at home: “Always carry a box of salt in your haversack when on active service: it will be useful.” So it was very often. After breakfast they sponged out their rifles, which had become so foul that the men’s shoulders were black with bruises from the recoil.
They had to assault the mess-house next, and after they had driven the rebels into the River Goomtee they peppered every head that showed above water.
One tall fellow acted as cunningly as a jackal. Whether struck or not, he fell just as he got into shallow water on the opposite side, and lay without moving, with his legs in the water and his head on the land. He appeared to be stone dead, and every rifle was turned on those that were running across the plain, while many that were wounded were fired on, as the fellows said, in mercy to put them out of pain. For this war of the Mutiny was a demoralizing war for civilized men to be engaged in. The cold-blooded cruelty of the rebels branded them as traitors to humanity and cowardly assassins of helpless women and children.
But to return to our Pandy. He was ever after spoken of as “the Jackal,” because jackals often behave as he did. After he had lain apparently dead for about an hour, some one noticed that he had gradually dragged himself out of the water. Then all at once he sprang to his feet and ran like a deer. He was still within easy range, and several rifles were levelled at him; but Sergeant Findlay, who was on the rampart, called out: “Don’t fire, men; give the poor devil a chance.” So instead of a volley of bullets the men’s better feelings gained the day, and Jack Pandy was reprieved, with a cheer to speed him on his way. As soon as he heard it he realized his position, and like the Samaritan leper of old, he halted, turned round, and putting up both his hands with the palms together in front of his face, he salaamed profoundly, prostrating himself three times on the ground by way of thanks, while the men on the ramparts waved their bonnets and clapped their hands to him in token of goodwill.