Vellenaux eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 259 pages of information about Vellenaux.

The first scene of the bloody drama they proposed to enact, to satisfy their devilish thirst for the blood of the unfortunates, who had thus fallen into their hands, was opened by a tall, burly ruffian bending over, seizing one of the children, hurling it into the air, and yelling with an awful imprecation while so doing, that he would wager a gold mohur to five rupees, that he could, with his tulwa, strike off the child’s right arm at the elbow without touching any other part of the body.  This was accepted at once by half-a-dozen voices; the wretch immediately raised his tulwa and, as the infant descended, made a sharp, quick, upper cut, and ere it reached the ground its little arm was disjointed, as though by the knife of an experienced surgeon.  A groan of horror burst from the lips of the agonized parents, and a convulsive 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.”

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Vellenaux from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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