The Jungle Fugitives by Edward Sylvester Ellis (amazing books to read txt) 📖
- Author: Edward Sylvester Ellis
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She did not doubt that her home and its contents had been burned by the wretches, but under the circumstances the matter gave her little concern. She was inclined to believe that her captors meant to conduct her into the town of Akwar, nearby, and with her knowledge of the fanatical hatred of the population against all Christians she still hoped to find some friends there who would protect her from harm. And thus it was that she was not in the state of collapse or despair that might be supposed.
Suddenly a pistol was fired from some point at the rear beyond her captors, and out of sight. All the men instantly stopped, grasped their arms and looked back, the young woman doing the same. Her thought was: "That was father or Jack, but he did not hit any one; therefore, it wasn't Jack."
While the six were looking expectantly to the rear Dr. Marlowe, his face flushed, and his whole appearance, showing his intense excitement, came into sight. He was panting from his severe exertion, and raised his hand as a signal for the Ghoojurs to wait for him. It is probable that he would have received a shot, but for an interruption that was as unexpected as it was remarkable. Almos, the leader of the Ghoojurs, emitted a yell that could have been heard a half-mile away, and leaped several feet in the air, while his companions with exclamations of terror hastily recoiled from him.
"Great Allah! He has been bitten!" exclaimed the horrified Mustad, almost knocking the young woman off her feet in his rush towards his master; but one of the others had perceived the monstrous cobra, and, clubbing his gun, he beat the life out of it with one blow, before it could glide away into the jungle. It looked as if this part of the country was specially pestered by the dreadful reptiles.
Almos knew he was doomed. All hope had vanished, and, dropping to the ground, he bared his bronzed ankle, looked at the tiny points where the horrible poison had been injected into his system, and then, like the fatalist be was, he calmly folded his arms and waited for the last moment that was rushing upon him. He was a faithful follower of the Prophet and knew how to meet the inevitable that awaits us all. His companions, awed and silent, stood around, unable to say or do anything that could give him comfort. Miss Marlowe, after walking part way to the group, paused and looked at them and at her father, who was hurrying to the spot. She wondered that Almos had permitted the killing of the cobra, since the snake is looked upon as sacred in India, and few natives can be induced to injure one. The Ghoojurs probably slew it in the flurry of the moment.
Dr. Marlowe had heard the cry and noted the excitement, but did not suspect the cause until he drew near the spot. Then Mustad, familiar with the skill of the medical man, beckoned to him and said:
"Make haste, great sahib, Almos has been bitten by a snake; no one can save him but you."
The stricken chief, from his seat on the ground, looked up in the face of the white man, of whose wonderful skill he had received proof in his own self. The countenance of the Ghoojur was of ashen hue, and the yearning expression of his eyes told of the hope that had been kindled within his breast.
Now that the physician had dropped into what may be called his professional character, he was himself again. He set down the caba containing his instruments, and medicaments, adjusted his glasses, and stooping over, intently studied the wound made by the cobra. Then he drew out his watch, as if he were timing the pulse beats of a patient.
"It is one minute and a half since you were bitten," he said, still holding the timepiece in his hand, but looking into the face of Almos; "in three more minutes and a half no power but Allah can save you."
Catching the full meaning of these words, the Ghoojur leader quivered with suddenly renewed hope.
"Can you save me?" he asked in Hindustani.
"I have in there," replied the physician, tapping his caba with his long forefinger, "that which will render the bite of the snake as harmless as the peck of a bird that flies in the air, but barely three minutes remain in which to apply it."
"Then I beseech you, do not wait," said the eager Almos, shoving his foot towards the doctor; "great is the English doctor; be quick; why do you tarry?"
"Before I heal you," replied Dr. Marlowe, with maddening deliberation, "I must be paid my fee; I have attended you before and refused to accept what you offered, but now I demand payment before applying the remedy."
"You shall have it; name it, I beg you; all that I have shall be yours if you will save me, but haste, O great physician, haste!"
"It is strong, and will do its work well, if it be given the chance."
He next drew out a lancet, with its edge like a razor's. Almos breathlessly watched him, but when he expected the doctor to begin work, he leaned back and said:
"Why should I bring you back from death, when you are seeking the lives of my daughter and myself? The best thing I can do is to let you die, as you will do in two minutes and a half more," he added, looking again at his watch; "the venom of the cobra works fast and it will soon strike your heart."
"You promised to save me if I would pay you in advance.
"So I will."
"Name your fee; be quick with it!"
"It is that you and the rest of the Ghoojurs shall leave me and mine alone; that you shall depart at once; that you shall not attempt to follow, nor harm us in any way. Without that pledge on your part, I shall let you die like the dog that you are. What is your answer?"
"I promise; I promise!" exclaimed Almos, almost beside himself with excitement and renewed hope. "I will guide you through the jungle to a safe point, and will watch over you till all danger is gone."
"You have given me your promise, but you may break it; swear by the mantle of the Prophet, or I shall let you die."
"I swear by the mantle of the Prophet!" the Ghoojur chieftain fairly shrieked, "that I will do as I have promised! Quick, quick, or it will be too late!"
"You have made the most sacred vow that a Mussulman can make; I will test it by saving your life."
CHAPTER XIX.
ASIATIC HONOR.
One quick movement with the lancet made an incision across the red specks left by the fangs of the cobra, and into the opening he poured a teaspoonful of the yellowish fluid, which was so much like liquid fire and pepper that even the dusky scoundrel gasped with agony. Then he was made to open his mouth and swallow something from a large bottle, which, as regards strength and flavor, was a twin of that which was consuming his flesh.
All at once the countenance of the physician expanded with a beaming smile as he looked at his patient and said gently as if speaking to his own child:
"All danger is past, Almos."
From the abundance of rags which fluttered about his person, the doctor tore a piece and bandaged the wound. Then he said in a business-like tone:
"I am through; now you and the rest of you may go."
Almos hesitated.
"You have saved my life: is there nothing I can do for you?"
"I have just told you what to do--_leave_?"
Probably there would have been less promptness in complying with the command had there been less in uttering it. As it was, Almos, without a word, motioned to the rest of his band, and led the way down the path in the direction of the stream, the four tramping after him like so many ragged phantoms.
Dr. Marlowe was more eager to leave the place than he would permit his child to know. He had no faith in Almos's promise, knowing that the Ghoojur chieftain would break his oath, which he and his brother fanatics did not consider binding when made to infidels, and the only hope, therefore, was for the fugitives to conceal themselves from the miscreants--a thing which the physician's intimate knowledge of the country would enable him to do.
Footfalls sounded along the path over which the two had just come, and a minute later Almos, Mustad and their three companions emerged into the opening and approached the couple, one of whom suspected nothing until her father spoke.
"Well, Almos, what do you want?" demanded Dr. Marlowe, calmly looking up at the Ghoojur chieftain, as he paused in front of him and made a salaam.
"We have come for the infidel and his daughter; our deen commands us to put them to death."
"What does the oath you gave me a little while ago command you to do?"
"That was made to an infidel; it is not binding upon a true son of the Prophet."
"A true son of the devil!" exclaimed the physician, unable to repress his rage.
Turning to his daughter, he said:
"My child, you have a pistol; when they make a move, shoot; leave Almos to me and save your last bullet for yourself."
"The infidels shall be destroyed everywhere," said Almos; "none of the Inglese loge shall be left in India. The faithful have risen and they will crush them all, for so commands the Prophet----"
Dr. Marlowe had placed his hand on the butt of his revolver at his hip, meaning to whip out the weapon and fire before the miscreant had finished his high-sounding tomfoolery. His daughter had also grasped hers, intending to obey to the letter the command of her parent, when the Ghoojur chieftain abruptly paused in his speech, staggered for a moment, and then sank to the ground like a bundle of rags, with the breath of life gone from his body.
The incident would have been as inexplicable to parent and child as to the Ghoojurs, had they not caught the faint, far-away report of a rifle, which, if heard by the bandits, was not associated by them with the startling thing that had taken place before their eyes. But the doctor and Mary knew the connection.
And about half-a-mile away, on the top of that huge rock, hot enough under the flaming sun to roast eggs, Jack Everson had assumed the same position that he held the afternoon before on the bank of the Ganges, when he checked the advance of the Ghoojur horsemen across the river. With the aid of the glasses, he had descried the forms of his beloved and her father when the bright eyes failed to detect his own. Then, when about to start to join them, he observed their visitors, and the glass again helped to identify them, after which he "proceeded to business."
The instant he made his aim sure he pulled the trigger, came to a sitting position, readjusted a
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