“I was a youngster, sahib, when first I saw Aurungpore. We Yusufzais came down at night and lifted the cattle and raided the villages, and we laughed at Ranjit Singh’s army that followed, for we knew that we had a good start, and the Sikhs would not venture into the hills. Ah, those were the good old days! Yet people say they have come again, and that Delhi is a richer town to loot than Aurungpore.”
The Yusufzai smacked his lips at the prospect. Here, thought Ted, was another sample of the robbers that apparently formed the backbone of the Guide Corps. The brightness of the prospect revealed by Faiz Talab’s message was fast fading away, and as the garrison had time to think it over there came a diminution of enthusiasm. Ted voiced the general opinion when he abruptly asked:
“But of what use is a single company against such swarms of rebels and budmashes, even if they are to be trusted?”
“But we are the Guides, sahib,” said Faiz Talab proudly.
That self-same day came tidings that more than destroyed the hopes raised by Jim’s letter. Into Aurungpore marched the 138th Bengal Native Infantry, rebels and murderers, flushed with success. They had shot down their officers and looted the treasury, to guard which had been their duty. Dire was the consternation caused by the arrival of the new contingent, and great was the dismay.
But when, next morning, our friends noticed that the six 9-pounders of the fort were being moved by certain of the new-comers into a position whence their place of refuge could be bombarded, dismay gave place to utter despair. The sepoys of the 193rd did not understand the handling of these guns, and had regarded them with some awe as fearsome weapons that might turn against themselves. But the 138th counted a couple of hundred Sikhs amongst their number.
Now the Sikh maharaja, Ranjit Singh, had maintained a splendid force of artillery, and many of the Sikh sepoys, who had enlisted under British colours, had previously been gunners in the army of the Khalsa,[1] and they saw at once how the little garrison might be speedily destroyed. A few hours’ search brought to light a quantity of material that had not been demolished in the explosion. All day long the exploration went on, and plenty of ammunition to feed the guns was soon stored close at hand.
[1] The title of the Sikh Confederacy.
The time of the expected arrival of the Guides drew nigh.
“Better that they should not come,” Major Munro wearily opined. “They would only share our fate. What chance would they have against 1500 trained soldiers?”