It was an anxious time for every one. The officers were keenly alive to the volcano on which they trod, yet dared not show any semblance of fear or mistrust. All ammunition was carefully removed to the mess-house, and the sabres and lances of the men (for Lieutenant K——‘s was a cavalry regiment) were only issued for parade, when every officer carried loaded revolvers and a goodly stock of cartridges. At last, one morning, the regiment was paraded to attend the funeral of a young officer who had sickened and died. The men had already drilled that morning, and as they mustered for the funeral, ominous signs of disorder and disaffection were rife. With heavy and anxious hearts the little knot of officers gathered to perform the last sad rites to their dead comrade. But they were destined never to complete their mournful task. Just as the adjutant had formed the parade and the officers were awaiting the coming of the colonel, at a given signal, preconcerted doubtless, the entire regiment broke ranks and stampeded helter-skelter over the parade-ground.
The majority of the mutineers hurried to their huts, and gathering together all their chattels decamped as soon as possible to join the headquarters of insurgent sepoys. But a band of more desperate characters, longing to steep their hands in English blood, and eager to join their revolted brethren with the prestige born of some glaring deed of butchery, hastened to the colonel’s residence, where the only two ladies of the regiment were known to be. Most of the officers were at the bungalow of their deceased comrade, which was situated on the opposite side of the parade-ground. The adjutant and the officers on parade retreated, immediately on the outbreak, to the mess-house, which had been prepared for defense in anticipation of just such an occurrence. The colonel, coming from the orderly room, took in the status of affairs and hastened to join the mess-house defenders.
In the meanwhile the ladies had been watching the forming of the parade from the colonel’s private smoking den, where there was littered in truly masculine chaos the thousand and one articles with which a keen sportsman and soldier loves to surround himself—a well selected battery of rifles and shotguns, half a dozen pig spears, a varied and choice assortment of hunting-knives, powder-flasks, bullet moulds, rods and whips, and crops of all descriptions were everywhere. Hanging in a little more order and by themselves were the colonel’s military accoutrements, a couple of cavalry sabres, a pair of pistols, an old sabretache, and an extra set of bits and bridles. The ladies gazing out from this sportsman’s snuggery saw with a thrill of horror the stampede, witnessed the hurried retreat of the officers to the mess-bungalow, and before their dazed senses realized the awful catastrophe saw some half-dozen yelling sowars making for the house in which they were. The colonel’s wife, perceiving the peril with which they were threatened, uttered one piercing shriek and fell fainting on the floor. But young Mrs. K. was made of sterner stuff. She, too, saw the danger, but it stirred her to action: Self-reliant and heroic by nature, she rose grandly to the occasion. No help was to be expected from the servants. Peons, kitmutgar, syces and chokras all had fled. But not a moment was to be lost. As she dashed frantically to the entrance, and as she closed and bolted the teak doors, she heard menaces that chilled the very marrow in her bones. She flew to every window and barred the blinds—poor weak defenses at best!—yet the breaking of them would gain a moment’s respite for her to prepare for the attack. She then retreated to the room in which the colonel’s wife still lay as she had fallen. There was no time to care for her. Mrs. K. took down the heavy cavalry pistols and ascertained with delight that they were loaded. She next drew the heavy barrack-table in front of her fallen friend and facing the door. Placing the pistols at hand on the table, she took down from a peg on the wall the mask with head protector used for broadsword exercise, and as she adjusted the cumbrous thing over her bonny waves of golden hair, she thought sadly of the pleasant bouts she had had with the bluff old gentleman whose property it was, and how the gallant soldier would puff and blow in his attempts to make good his cranium against the blows which she rained with lightning rapidity on each exposed point.
Heavy blows on door and windows cut short her meditations, and selecting the lighter of the two sabres (made more to wear at dress parades or levées than actual warfare) the brave girl took up her position behind the table. The fiends did not keep her waiting long. The stout old veranda chairs, hurled with the force of battering rams by the strong arms of the now thoroughly infuriated natives, soon wrenched the door from its hinges, and with a thundering crash it fell inwards, creating havoc with the dainty little tables, with their delicate bric-a-brac. She heard the exulting shout of the troopers and the tramp of their heavy boots as they scoured the house in search of their intended victims. With dauntless mien and white lips the young wife grasped the pistol, and with one short muttered prayer for him she loved, awaited the supreme moment. A rush—a heavy thud as of bodies hurled against the door—a smashing of wood, and four burly sowars tumbled headlong into the room. As the first sepoy with a horrid oath picked himself hastily up, Mrs. K.’s pistol was discharged within a dozen feet of the would-be murderer’s breast, and with a choking sob the ruffian fell backwards. Instantly catching up the second weapon she fired at the advancing trio. Another howl of anguish told that the true ball found fatal lodgment. She seized her sabre as the table was overturned, and found herself hotly assailed by the two surviving troopers. Skillfully she parried the savage onslaught. With the rage of baffled demons they plied her with a perfect hailstorm of blows regardless of method or science. Some she eluded by her activity, some she caught on the frail blade she wielded, and she felt that some had wounded her on arm and side. She grew faint and dizzy—a black mist spread before her darkening eyes. She staggered—reeled—and fell upon the still unconscious form of Mrs. P. A hoarse shout from behind arrested the murderers. They turned one moment. It was their last. A couple of pistol-shots rang out, and the assassins fell dead on the bodies of their antagonist.
The rescue is easily explained. When the officers perceived the attack was meant for the colonel’s house, and that the mess-house was comparatively safe, the colonel, adjutant, and a couple of others rushed after the attacking mutineers, and arrived in time to turn the tables on the dastardly cowards. The whole affray, assault, defense, and vengeance, was enacted in less moments than it takes to read the account. Mrs. K. recovered after long months of illness, and is now living among the scenes of her childhood.
SPORT—PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE.
BY ALEXANDER HUNTER.
PART II.