Vellenaux A Novel by Edmund William Forrest (great novels .TXT) 📖

Shudder Ran Through The Remainder Of The Unhappy Party; But This Past

Unheeded By Their Captors,  Being Drowned By The Yells Of Fiendish

Delight And Approval That Broke Forth From The Throats Of These Hell

Hounds,  As The Mutilated Body Of The Child Lay Wreathing In agony At

Their Feet,  Absorbing For The Moment All Other Feeling. "I Will Double

The Stakes," Cried Another,  "That I Take Off The Head Of A Second Of

These Young Imps Close To The Shoulder Without Making Wound Or Scar On

Any Other Part." "Done,  And Done Again!" Shouted Several Voices,

Throwing Up Their Weapons In The Air,  And Re-Catching Them Again,  So

Delighted Were They At The Idea Of Another Spectacle So Much In Unison

With Their Blood-Thirsty And Relentless Passions. A Powerful Ruffian Now

Dismounted,  And Catching Up A Second Babe,  A Pretty Little Thing

Scarcely Two Years Old,  Hurled It With His Utmost Strength High Into The

Air. On Gaining Its Greatest Altitude,  It Turned Completely,  And Was

Descending,  Head Downwards. When Within Six Feet Of The Ground,  The

Brutal Villain,  With One Lightning Stroke Of His Tulwa,  Severed The Head

From Its Shoulders,  Amid The Shouts And Gesticulations Of The Assembled

Miscreants. By Some,  The Wretch Was Pronounced A Winner,  But On

Examining The Body,  The Skin Of One Shoulder Was Found To Be Grazed Or

Cut. Many Maintained It Was Done By The Sword; Others Asserted That It

Was Caused By Falling On A Stone Or Some Such Substance. The Dispute Ran

High,  And Possible Might Have Come To Blows,  But For The Interference Of

Another Of The Party,  Who Appeared To Be A Sort Of Leader Among Them,

Shouting Out "Come! No More Of This Fooling; Too Much Time Has Been

Already Wasted On This Tumahsha. Give The Cursed Feringees A Volley From

Your Carbines,  Loot The Garries,  And Then Make Off With All Speed,  Or

The Cursed Kaffirs May Get Wind Of The Affair And Follow In Our Track."

 

"Shumsodeen Is Right," Called Out Another. "There Is Both Truth And

Reason In What He Says. But There Must Be No Firing,  It Might Attract

The Notice Of Any Straggler From The Camps Of Those Dogs Of Kaffirs,  And

Bring Their Infernal Dragoons Down Upon Us. No! Cut The Throats Of The

Men,  And As There Are But Twenty Of Us,  And Only Five Of These Women,

Tell Off One Of Them To Each Four Of Us,  And Let Us Begone,  For We Must

Put The Broad Plain,  At The Foot Of The Khandish Ghaut,  Between Us And

This Place Ere Night Fall,  And On Our Camping For The Night,  Each Four

Can Decide What Is To Be Done With Their Prize." This Suggestion Was

Received With Applause,  And They Immediately Prepared To Act Upon It.

Already Two Or Three Had Dismounted And Drawn Their Creeses To Slit The

Throats Of Their Male Prisoners,  When A Youth,  About Eighteen,  Son Of

The Fellow Called Shumsodeen,  Cried Out,  "Do As You Please With The

Women Among Yourselves,  But I Will Have Yonder Curly Headed Cutcha

Butchee For My Prize,  Come What May," And He Took A Few Steps In The

Direction Of The Collector'S Daughter,  Who Was Still Clinging To Her

Parent For Protection; But Ere He Reached Her,  A Loud,  Clear Voice At No

Great Distance Rang Out,  "Fire! Gentlemen,  And Charge!" Then Came From

Between The Leaves And Bushes A Withering Volley Of Bullets From Rifle

And Revolver,  Striking Down The Youth,  And Emptying Three Saddles,  The

Riders Falling Lifeless To The Ground. In another Instant The Branches

Parted,  And Arthur Carlton,  With His Six Companions,  Cleared The Low

Brushwood,  And Sword In Hand Dashed Into The Centre Of The Ruffianly

Chapter 13 Pg 95

Group.

 

Although Taken Completely By Surprise--For They Had Not Calculated Upon

Being Interfered With,  Especially At So Early A Period Of Their

Proceedings Or By So Formidable A Foe--The Mutineers Instantly Prepared

To Give Their Unexpected Assailants A Fierce And Bloody Reception. They

Fought Frantically With A Courage Born Of Desperation,  Well Knowing That

To Cut Through Their Foes And Escape By Flight Was Their Only Chance;

For Should They Not Perish By The Sword In The Present Contest,  A

Halter,  Or To Be Blown To Fragments From The Cannon'S Mouth,  Would Be

Their Doom If Made Prisoners,  Consequently They Rained Down Their Blows

Frantically,  And Made Several Desperate Attempts To Break Through Or

Divide The Small Party That Opposed Them. But The Cool And Determined

Courage And Thorough Discipline Of The Dragoons,  And Their Friends Was

Too Much For Them,  Fighting As They Did,  For A Time,  On The Defensive;

Warding Off The Cuts Of The Dusky Villains,  And Giving Only A Few

Thrusts Here And There,  When It Could Be Done With Fatal Effect. Many Of

Their Number Had Already Bit The Dust,  And,  As Yet,  No Impression Had

Been Made On The Gallant Little Band,  The Soaws Being Still Two To One.

Thus Carlton And His Party Were Still Fighting Under A Disadvantage As

Far As Numbers Were Concerned. Had The Combatants Been Less Pre-Occupied

With Their Deadly Strife,  They Might Have Observed,  At A Short Distance,

A Female Figure Cautiously Emerging From Between The Bushes And

Stealthily Creep Beneath The Vehicle,  To The Wheels Of Which The

Collector Had Been Bound. This Was The Wife Of The Head Clerk,  The

Pretty Three-Quarter Caste,  Whose Presence Of Mind,  Courage And

Forethought Had So Largely Contributed To Their Deliverance. Rapidly But

Surely,  With The Hunting Knife Given Her By Captain Crosby,  She Cut The

Cords That Bound Her Husband And His Companions,  Who,  When They Found

They Were Released,  Rushed Forward And Possessed Themselves Of The

Weapons Of The Fallen Mutineers,  And Immediately Commenced An Attack On

Their Flank And Rear,  In Hopes Of Rendering Some Assistance To Their

Brave Defenders.

 

Moving Quickly,  But In Such A Way As Not To Attract Notice,  Mrs. De

Mello,  Released The Collector'S Wife And The Other Ladies From Their

Unpleasant And Exposed Position,  And One By One Removed Them For Safety

Within The Cover Of The Jungle In case Of Any Chance Shot Or Blow

Injuring Them. A Brief Time Served To Restore The Ladies To Something

Like Tranquility,  And Enable Them To Arrange Their Attire To The Best

Advantage Under The Circumstances,  And Evincing In The Highest Manner

Their Thanks And Gratitude To Her Who Had,  With Such Peril To Herself,

Relieved Them From A Fate,  To Them,  Worse Than Death Itself.

 

The Unexpected Release Of The Prisoners,  And The Attack Made On Their

Flank And Rear By Them,  Totally Confounded The Mutineers,  And Rendered

All Escape On Their Part Impossible Or Nearly So,  While Arthur And His

Friends,  Seeing The Addition To Their Number,  And Being About Equally

Matched--Numerically Speaking--Changed Their Tactics From The Defensive

To The Offensive,  And Attacked Their Opponents In Right Good Earnest,

And With Such Skill And Determination Did They Use Their Weapons That

They Very Shortly Brought The Contest To A Close. Eleven Of The

Mutinous Rascals Lay Stone Dead Upon The Blood-Stained Sod,  And Five

Group.

 

Although Taken Completely By Surprise--For They Had Not Calculated Upon

Being Interfered With,  Especially At So Early A Period Of Their

Proceedings Or By So Formidable A Foe--The Mutineers Instantly Prepared

To Give Their Unexpected Assailants A Fierce And Bloody Reception. They

Fought Frantically With A Courage Born Of Desperation,  Well Knowing That

To Cut Through Their Foes And Escape By Flight Was Their Only Chance;

For Should They Not Perish By The Sword In The Present Contest,  A

Halter,  Or To Be Blown To Fragments From The Cannon'S Mouth,  Would Be

Their Doom If Made Prisoners,  Consequently They Rained Down Their Blows

Frantically,  And Made Several Desperate Attempts To Break Through Or

Divide The Small Party That Opposed Them. But The Cool And Determined

Courage And Thorough Discipline Of The Dragoons,  And Their Friends Was

Too Much For Them,  Fighting As They Did,  For A Time,  On The Defensive;

Warding Off The Cuts Of The Dusky Villains,  And Giving Only A Few

Thrusts Here And There,  When It Could Be Done With Fatal Effect. Many Of

Their Number Had Already Bit The Dust,  And,  As Yet,  No Impression Had

Been Made On The Gallant Little Band,  The Soaws Being Still Two To One.

Thus Carlton And His Party Were Still Fighting Under A Disadvantage As

Far As Numbers Were Concerned. Had The Combatants Been Less Pre-Occupied

With Their Deadly Strife,  They Might Have Observed,  At A Short Distance,

A Female Figure Cautiously Emerging From Between The Bushes And

Stealthily Creep Beneath The Vehicle,  To The Wheels Of Which The

Collector Had Been Bound. This Was The Wife Of The Head Clerk,  The

Pretty Three-Quarter Caste,  Whose Presence Of Mind,  Courage And

Forethought Had So Largely Contributed To Their Deliverance. Rapidly But

Surely,  With The Hunting Knife Given Her By Captain Crosby,  She Cut The

Cords That Bound Her Husband And His Companions,  Who,  When They Found

They Were Released,  Rushed Forward And Possessed Themselves Of The

Weapons Of The Fallen Mutineers,  And Immediately Commenced An Attack On

Their Flank And Rear,  In Hopes Of Rendering Some Assistance To Their

Brave Defenders.

 

Moving Quickly,  But In Such A Way As Not To Attract Notice,  Mrs. De

Mello,  Released The Collector'S Wife And The Other Ladies From Their

Unpleasant And Exposed Position,  And One By One Removed Them For Safety

Within The Cover Of The Jungle In case Of Any Chance Shot Or Blow

Injuring Them. A Brief Time Served To Restore The Ladies To Something

Like Tranquility,  And Enable Them To Arrange Their Attire To The Best

Advantage Under The Circumstances,  And Evincing In The Highest Manner

Their Thanks And Gratitude To Her Who Had,  With Such Peril To Herself,

Relieved Them From A Fate,  To Them,  Worse Than Death Itself.

 

The Unexpected Release Of The Prisoners,  And The Attack Made On Their

Flank And Rear By Them,  Totally Confounded The Mutineers,  And Rendered

All Escape On Their Part Impossible Or Nearly So,  While Arthur And His

Friends,  Seeing The Addition To Their Number,  And Being About Equally

Matched--Numerically Speaking--Changed Their Tactics From The Defensive

To The Offensive,  And Attacked Their Opponents In Right Good Earnest,

And With Such Skill And Determination Did They Use Their Weapons That

They Very Shortly Brought The Contest To A Close. Eleven Of The

Mutinous Rascals Lay Stone Dead Upon The Blood-Stained Sod,  And Five

Group.

 

Although Taken Completely By Surprise--For They Had Not Calculated Upon

Being Interfered With,  Especially At So Early A Period Of Their

Proceedings Or By So Formidable A Foe--The Mutineers Instantly Prepared

To Give Their Unexpected Assailants A Fierce And Bloody Reception. They

Fought Frantically With A Courage Born Of Desperation,  Well Knowing That

To Cut Through Their Foes And Escape By Flight Was Their Only Chance;

For Should They Not Perish By The Sword In The Present Contest,  A

Halter,  Or To Be Blown To Fragments From The Cannon'S Mouth,  Would Be

Their Doom If Made Prisoners,  Consequently They Rained Down Their Blows

Frantically,  And Made Several Desperate Attempts To Break Through Or

Divide The Small Party That Opposed Them. But The Cool And Determined

Courage And Thorough Discipline Of The Dragoons,  And Their Friends Was

Too Much For Them,  Fighting As They Did,  For A Time,  On The Defensive;

Warding Off The Cuts Of The Dusky Villains,  And Giving Only A Few

Thrusts Here And There,  When It Could Be Done With Fatal Effect. Many Of

Their Number Had Already Bit The Dust,  And,  As Yet,  No Impression Had

Been Made On The Gallant Little Band,  The Soaws Being Still Two To One.

Thus Carlton And His Party Were Still Fighting Under A Disadvantage As

Far As Numbers Were Concerned. Had The Combatants Been Less Pre-Occupied

With Their Deadly Strife,  They Might Have Observed,  At A Short Distance,

A Female Figure Cautiously Emerging From Between The Bushes And

Stealthily Creep Beneath The Vehicle,  To The Wheels Of Which The

Collector Had Been Bound. This Was The Wife Of The Head Clerk,  The

Pretty Three-Quarter Caste,  Whose Presence Of Mind,  Courage And

Forethought Had So Largely Contributed To Their Deliverance. Rapidly But

Surely,  With The Hunting Knife