The troop now mounted, and trotted quietly away, making
a wide detour, and then going straight toward Bithri.
The moon had risen; and when, about a mile and a half
in front, they could see the castle, Major Warrener,
who with Captain Kent and the native guides was riding
ahead, held up his hand. The troop came to a
halt.
“There are some bullock-carts just ahead.
Take the mufflings off your horse’s feet and
ride on by yourself,” he said to one of the native
guides, “and see what is in the wagons, and where
they are going.”
The man did as ordered, but he needed no questions.
The wagons were full of wounded men going to Bithri.
He passed on with a word of greeting, turned his horse
when he reached a wood a little in front, and allowed
them to pass, and then rode back to the troop.
“Four bullock-carts full of wounded, sahib.”
“The very thing,” Major Warrener exclaimed;
“nothing could be more lucky.”
Orders were passed down the line that they were to
ride along until the leaders were abreast of the first
cart, then to halt and dismount suddenly. The
drivers were to be seized, gagged, and bound.
The wounded were not to be injured.
“These men are not mutinous Sepoys, with their
hands red with the blood of women,” Major Warrener
said; “they are peasants who have fought bravely
for their country, and have done their duty, according
to their light.”
SAVE BY A TIGER.
The drivers of the bullock-carts were startled at
the noiseless appearance by their side of a body of
horsemen; still more startled, when suddenly that
phantom-like troop halted and dismounted. The
rest was like a dream; in an instant they were seized,
bound, and gagged, and laid down in the field at some
distance from the road; one of them, however, being
ungagged, and asked a few questions before being finally
left. The wounded, all past offering the slightest
resistance, were still more astonished when their
captors, whom the moonlight now showed to be white,
instead of cutting their throats as they expected,
lifted them tenderly and carefully from the wagons,
and laid them down on a bank a short distance off.
“Swear by the Prophet not to call for aid, or
to speak, should any one pass the road, for one hour!”
was the oath administered to each, and all who were
still conscious swore to observe it. Then with
the empty wagons the troops proceeded on their way.
At the last clump of trees, a quarter of a mile from
the castle, there was another halt. The troop
dismounted, led their horses some little distance
from the road, and tied them to the trees. Twenty
men remained as a guard. Four of the others wrapped
themselves up so as to appear at a short distance like
natives, and took their places at the bullocks’
heads, and the rest crowded into the wagons, covering
themselves with their cloaks to hide their light uniforms.
Then the bullocks were again set in motion across
the plain. So careless were the garrison that
they were not even challenged as they approached the
gate of the outworks, and without a question the gate
swung back.
