At the Point of the Bayonet: A Tale of the Mahratta War

by G. A. Henty

"Let us give them three hours," Harry said, "the sea wind will be blowing strongly, then."

The greater portion of the men who were to remain behind were to be stationed on the side on which the sortie was to be made, so as to cover the retreat of the others, by showers of arrows. The rajah's principal officer was placed in command here. His orders were that, if the enemy came on too strongly, he was to issue out with a hundred men, and aid the party to beat back their assailants. However, Harry did not think it likely that this would be the case. The Malays would be scattered all over the town--some, perhaps, even beyond the outer palisades--and before they could assemble in force, the party ought to be safe within the palisade again.

Just before ten, the two hundred men who were to make the attack sallied out. They were led by the rajah, while Harry was to lead the firing party. He chose this part, because he would not be able to crawl across the open space as noiselessly as the Malays could do.

During the day, a number of hides had been hung on the palisades, so that the enemy should not notice that a gathering of men, with torches, was assembled there; and in order that the light might not be conspicuous at this spot, fires had been lighted at other points, in order to give the impression that the defenders were holding themselves in readiness to repel another attack. The bamboos had been removed, ten minutes before the party issued out. So noiseless was their tread that Harry, though close to the entrance, could not hear it; and when he looked out, as soon as the last man had passed, he could neither see nor hear anything. The men had all thrown themselves on the ground, as soon as they had passed out, and were crawling forward without a sound being audible.

Harry and Abdool had both armed themselves with a kris and spear. Behind them were the torch bearers, arranged four abreast.

It seemed an age before the sound of a horn rose in the air. Instantly they dashed through the opening, followed by the men and, at full speed, crossed the cleared ground. Already the sound of shouts, violent yells, and the clashing of blades showed that the rajah's men were at work.

Scattering as they reached the houses, the torch bearers ran from hut to hut; pausing for a few seconds, at each, till the flame had gained a fair hold. In less than a minute, sixty or seventy houses were in flames. Harry had the man with the horn with him and, as soon as he saw that the work was fairly done, he ordered the signal to be blown. The torches were thrown down, and their bearers ran back at full speed and, half a minute later, the rajah's men poured out from the town. There was no pursuit, and the whole band re-entered the stockade before, with yells of fury, numbers of the enemy ran forward.

As soon as they did so, arrows began to fly fast from the stockade and, knowing that they could effect nothing, without means of breaking through, the Malays retired as rapidly as they had advanced.

Short as was the interval that had elapsed since the first signal was given, the town was, at the point where the attack was made, a sheet of flame, which was spreading rapidly on either hand. The hubbub among the enemy was tremendous. Upwards of a hundred had been killed, by the rajah's party--for the most part before they could offer any resistance--and not more than five or six of their assailants had received severe wounds.

Loud rose the shouts of exultation from the defenders, as the fire spread with ever-increasing rapidity; flakes of fire, driven by a strong wind, started the flames in a score of places, far ahead of the main conflagration and, in half an hour, only red embers and flickering timbers showed where Johore had stood. Beyond, however, there were sheets of flame, where the crops had been dry and ready for cutting; and the garrison felt that their assailants would have to go a long distance, to gather materials for endeavouring to burn them out.