“Ay, Bill,” chaffed another. “Go an’ take ’em rattin’ along the banks of the Jumner; they’re beggars for rats are uttees.”
Bill was equal to the occasion, however, and readily replied:
“Nothin’ of the sort! General told me has the helephints was comin’ to-day, an’ ’e says to me, ‘Bill,’ sez ’e, ‘wot are we to do with them uttees when they come?’ ‘General,’ sez hi, ‘why not mount the Gurkeys on ’em an’ make ’em into light horsemen?—there’s nobody else’s legs ’ud go round a huttee.’ ‘Bill,’ sez ’e, ‘you’re a genius!’”
The laugh that followed showed that Bill had scored, and a group of officers standing by, who had up to this point tried to preserve a sedate demeanour, joined in the merriment at the thought of a little Gurkha perched astride one of the monsters. Regardless of the jests at their expense, the huge pachyderms came steadily on through the clustered ranks of interested and gaping spectators.
“By gum, boys, them are guns! We’ll soon be in Delhi now!”
“Three cheers for the Bengal Artillery! and three more for John Lawrence who sent them!”
The cheers were lustily given, for hopes ran high.
“They ought to make short work of the walls,” said Claude. “I think we’re going to have a look in at last.”
“Yes; we’re all getting a bit sick of waiting. Hope we can get a good place in the stalls when the theatre doors open,” Ted replied.
“And I hope Nicholson leads us. By the way, I suppose you’ve heard nothing fresh from Aurungpore?”