Chapter 19

CHILLIANWALLA.

There was a long pause after the battle of Sadoolapore. The country between Heylah and the Sikh position, fifteen miles distant, was covered with dense jungle, and a great number of native wood-cutters were employed in cutting roads through it. Skirmishes often took place between the Sikh regular cavalry and our patrols. On the 18th of December Sher Singh moved ten thousand men to Dingee. As this movement threatened the Wuzeerabad ford, a force was despatched there to bar the passage, which if effected would have placed Sher Singh between the British force and Lahore. The Sikhs retired again, and nothing was done until the 10th of January, when the British force concentrated at Lussoore. It was known that considerable reinforcements had joined Sher Singh, among these being two troops of horse-artillery from Peshawur. These batteries had been disciplined by a British officer, and had been presented to Chuttur Singh by the Resident at Lahore, to enable him to repel the attacks of the Afghans. They were in all respects exactly similar to those used in the Company's service, and were a most valuable addition to Sher Singh's strength.

During the six weeks that had elapsed since the battle, Percy had been kept busily employed; at one time buying provisions, at another questioning villagers as to routes and the obstacles to be encountered, and gathering as much information as possible as to the Sikh position at Russool. The descriptions he obtained were vague in the extreme, but all united in describing the country as excessively difficult, being covered with jungle and abounding in deep nullahs.

"This will be a different business altogether, Groves, from our former attacks on the Sikh positions," said Mr. Fullarton.

"I should think much easier, sir. There we had to go right across the open with fifty or sixty cannon and ten or twelve thousand infantry all blazing away at us, and to storm a place difficult to climb, and where we were exposed to their fire while they were sheltered. Fighting in the jungle we have just as good a chance as they have."

"Except, Groves, that they will know every foot of the ground, and we shall know nothing of it, which makes all the difference in the world."

"It does make a difference, no doubt, Mr. Fullarton; but you see we turned them out of the jungle at Moodkee quickly enough."

"That is true; but there our cavalry got round behind them. No doubt that shook their resistance very much; nothing alarms undisciplined troops so much as the belief that their retreat is cut off. With highly disciplined troops it is just the contrary; when they know they must either conquer or be destroyed, they will fight more obstinately than on any other occasion. To-morrow morning we move forward to Dingee, and I expect that we shall fight on the following day, for it is not more than eight miles from there."

At Dingee a Pathan deserter from the Sikh camp came in, and from him further particulars than had before been learned were obtained.

The camp, he said, was round the village of Russool, a mile from the river. In front of it was a ravine some hundreds of feet deep and almost impassable. Upon the ground on the other side of this ravine the Sikhs had erected a long line of intrenchments, to reach which they had to cross the ravine from their camp on a narrow wooden footbridge thrown over it. At a council of war held on the evening of the arrival of the army at Dingee, it was determined that an attempt should be made to outflank the Sikh intrenchments, to attack Russool on the Sikh left, and so to intercept their retreat to the river. This successful, all their guns, magazines, and stores would be captured, although doubtless the infantry would escape through the jungle.

The next morning the troops were put in motion; for a time they marched without difficulty, as the jungle had been cut for them, but after that their movements were slow. Several Pathan deserters came in as they advanced, and gave information as to the route and position. After a march of some miles a halt was made. The troops ate some of the food carried in their haversacks, and an allowance of grog was served out. The direction of the line of march, which had hitherto been direct upon the heights of Russool, where the Sikh camp was plainly visible, was now changed, and sweeping round they reached a long bare hill in front of the village of Chillianwalla, turning out some Sikhs who were stationed in a small intrenchment there. Lord Gough's intention was to encamp for the night at this spot, where plenty of water was obtainable, so that the troops could rest and prepare for the fight in the morning, when the whole day would be available for the operations.

The ground was marked out for the different regiments to occupy, and the men were in the act of falling out, when a large body of men were seen some distance in the front, and several guns opened fire. The Sikhs had left their intrenchments, and were drawn up in the jungle. Battery after battery opened fire, and the British artillery at once responded, while the troops fell into their ranks again. Lord Gough issued orders for the battle to begin. He has been blamed by many for so doing, but it is difficult to see how it could have been avoided. The Sikh army was at hand in full force; it was out of the question to retreat, equally out of the question to remain passive under the fire of the enemy. Inaction or retreat would equally have been interpreted as evidence of fear, and would have vastly encouraged the enemy. The troops, although tired by their march through the jungle under the sun, had not had a long day's work. That the dispositions for battle were hurried, incomplete, and faulty is undeniable, but that it should have taken place was under the circumstances inevitable.

The din of the cannonade was prodigious, echoed as it was by the surrounding hills. The Sikh batteries were almost invisible, and the British artillerymen directed their fire solely at the flashes and smoke rising from the jungle. The position of the infantry was equally hidden, and it was only by the sparkle of the sun on bayonet and spearhead that any indication of its line was obtainable. But having determined upon attacking, it was necessary that some plan of operation should be decided upon, some specific object of attack assigned to each of the commanding officers of divisions and brigades. No such orders were given, and without any instructions whatever beyond the order to advance and capture the enemy's guns, the British force, numbering some eighteen thousand, of whom but a small proportion were white troops�there being but four regiments of English infantry and three of cavalry�moved forward to attack a force estimated at forty thousand, with sixty-two guns, entirely hidden in a jungle, and in an exceedingly broken and difficult ground.

The two infantry divisions of Major-general Gilbert and Brigadier-general Colin Campbell advanced boldly to the attack, and plunging into the jungle were at once engaged in a hand-to-hand struggle with the Sikhs. The cavalry on the right flank, consisting of the 9th Royal Lancers, the 14th Dragoons, and two regiments of native cavalry, were ordered to advance. They were commanded by Lieutenant-colonel Pope, an officer of the native cavalry. He was unfortunately in such infirm health that he could not mount his horse without assistance, and had no experience whatever of the command of a brigade of cavalry. The result was that owing partly to the difficulty of keeping a straight line in the jungle, the force not only overlapped the troops of horse-artillery placed between them and Gilbert's division, but got in front of Gilbert's infantry. The guns were therefore unable to afford them any assistance.

Moving forwards at a walk, the cavalry found themselves opposed both by infantry and cavalry. Colonel Pope was wounded severely in the head. The troops, being without orders, faced about in different directions as fresh opponents appeared, and presently came to a halt. The Sikh cavalry boldly skirmished up to them, and then, under the belief that the order had been given to retreat, the cavalry turned and galloped back, hotly pursued by the Sikhs. In their retreat they rode right over the batteries of horse-artillery, disorganizing the gunners and carrying off the horses in their rush; while the Sikhs, of whom there were but a handful, following hard in the rear of the flying troopers, cut down the artillerymen, captured six guns, and continued their pursuit until close to Lord Gough and the head-quarter staff. Then a couple of guns, judiciously placed, opened upon them, and they fell back, checked by the appearance of a couple of squadrons of the Lancers, which had been rallied by their officers.

Had the cavalry, when they first came in contact with the enemy, received the orders to charge, the result would probably have been altogether different. Indeed the colonel of one of the cavalry regiments requested permission from Pope to charge, but it was refused. The men who fled thus precipitately had shown an almost reckless valour at Ramnuggar, and would, under other circumstances, have distinguished themselves equally here; but cavalry at a walk are the most defenceless of troops, and broken up as they were by the jungle, unable to see what was going on on either side, exposed to a fire from hidden foes, and feeling that they were badly handled, it is not surprising that when they came to a halt they were liable to turn and go about with alacrity at the first sound of retreating hoofs at any portion of the line.

While this was happening a battery of horse-artillery, with some squadrons of cavalry from three of the regiments engaged, had most gallantly repulsed the attack of a large body of the enemy's horse on our extreme left. Godby's brigade of infantry, which had been deprived of a chance of taking part in the battle of Sadoolapore, were the first of the infantry to come in contact with the enemy. Its advance was assisted by a well-directed fire of a horse-artillery battery which prepared the way. It plunged into the jungle with a cheer, and dashing forward through every obstacle and driving its defenders before it, came upon an open space, the opposite side of which was thickly lined by the enemy. Our troops dashed across this under a tremendous fire of musket and artillery, fired a volley, and hurled themselves upon the Sikhs, who broke and fled. Pursuit was impossible; the jungle was so thick that none could see ten yards ahead. Orders were given to collect the wounded�an imperative duty, for the Sikhs murdered every man left behind.

Suddenly, as they were engaged in the work, a tremendous fire opened upon them from the rear. A large body of Sikhs had worked their way through the jungle and cut them off, while a strong body of their cavalry issued into the open space and charged down upon them. As quick as thought the horse-artillery swept their guns round, loaded with grape, and poured in their fire, creating terrible havoc among the Sikh horse, and sending them flying back into the jungle. The infantry faced about and retired steadily, but were pressed by a crowd of the enemy. Then General Gilbert, who was with the brigade, gave the word, and the second battalion of the Bengal Europeans turned and went at them with a cheer. The Sikhs fought desperately each for himself, but they were swept backward and bayoneted in great numbers. Three of their guns were taken and spiked, and another captured by one of the native regiments of the brigade.

The left brigade of Gilbert's division was even more severely treated. The fighting was desperate; the 29th captured and spiked several guns in the Sikh intrenchment, but could carry off only five of them for want of horses. As it still pushed forward the brigade was swept with grape and musketry. The 56th Native Infantry suffered terribly, losing its colonel, seven other officers, and three hundred and twenty-two men killed and wounded. The 30th Native Infantry suffered as heavily, losing eleven officers and two hundred and eighty-five men killed and wounded. Both the native regiments lost their colours. The brigade was at length unable to withstand the attack directed against it, and fell back.

Pennycuick's brigade of Colin Campbell's division were as roughly handled; they had, through some blunder or other, advanced unsupported by artillery, and orders were given by their commander that they were not to fire but to charge the enemy's guns. The 24th, the European regiment of the brigade, the strongest battalion of the force, advanced in magnificent order under a terrific fire of musketry and artillery, drove all opposition before them, and captured the guns opposed to them. They had commenced spiking them, when some of the Bunnoo regiments, lying concealed in the brushwood on rising ground behind the guns, opened a tremendous fire of musketry. The troops were thrown into some confusion by this sudden attack, and fell back, and as they did so they were literally mown down by the enemy's fire. General Pennycuick fell dead; his son, a young ensign, stood across his father's body and defended it until he fell dead beside it. Colonel Brooks was also killed. Eleven other officers fell, and ten were wounded either among the guns or in the retreat that followed. The Sikh cavalry pressed hard on the retiring soldiers, while their musketry and artillery swept their ranks, and upwards of five hundred men were killed and wounded. The regiment was in fact almost annihilated. The position this brigade attacked was afterwards found to have been the strongest along the Sikh line. The two native regiments of the brigade had advanced in line with the 24th, but suffered far less severely in the retreat, the efforts of the Sikhs being concentrated against the white regiment.

The other brigade of the division, at whose head Colin Campbell had placed himself, was more fortunate. The 61st Foot repulsed several desperate attacks, and pouring in heavy volleys swept the Sikhs before it. Wheeling round it fought its way along, and retook the guns from which the 24th had been driven. The capture of the guns was, however, but of little avail, for as soon as they were abandoned the Sikhs managed to draw the spikes, and in a few minutes they were again in action. Two native regiments fought worthily by the side of the 61st.

The cavalry on the extreme left, under General Thackwell, did good work by checking a very large body of Sikh horsemen, a squadron of the 3d Dragoons charging and riding right through them; then gathering again with a desperate effort they cut their way back to their friends, two officers and thirty-six men having been killed or wounded in this brilliant charge.

Night was now approaching. A portion of the jungle had been for the moment cleared, but beyond this the Sikhs still swarmed, and during the battle large bodies had worked round and had only been prevented by the fire of the guns from falling on the rear. Nothing more could be done; some of the officers advised that the force should fall back to the village of Chillianwalla, in order to obtain water and to afford protection to the baggage Lord Gough at first refused to do so, on the ground that any wounded left behind would be massacred. The troops, especially the Sepoys, were, however, so distressed by thirst, that the wounded were as far as possible collected, and the force concentrated round Chillianwalla.

Had the enemy attacked at night the consequence would have been terrible, for the regiments were broken up and separated, and the confusion was absolute; but at eight o'clock the rain came down in torrents, and this and the fact that their own loss had been severe, especially among the gunners, checked the ardour of the Sikhs, and probably saved the British force. In the morning the enemy were seen encamped on an eminence three miles distant. The cavalry scoured the field of battle to collect any wounded that had been left, and bring in the captured guns. Twelve small cannon, however, were the only trophies of the fight. The rolls were called, and the loss ascertained: it consisted of eighty-nine officers, two thousand three hundred and fifty-seven men killed and wounded�an enormous loss in proportion to the number of men engaged. Six guns were lost, together with the ammunition that had accompanied several of the corps into the fight.

It was so far a drawn battle that the armies at night occupied the same positions they had held at the commencement of the battle, but the advantage was all with the Sikhs, for the fighting strength of the four English regiments that had formed the backbone of the force was lessened by half; while the Sikhs had proved to their delight that British troops were not always invincible, and that occasionally they were even subject to panic. The result was that their confidence was greatly increased, and their losses were far more than balanced by the great number of recruits who, at the news of the repulse of the British attack, poured into Sher Singh's camp.

The British army remained stationary at Chillianwalla from the 13th of January to February. Large numbers of the Sikhs at various times penetrated to Dingee, and cut the lines of communication through that place; there was indeed another line open through Hayleh, where the force that had been engaged at Sadoolapore had remained since that battle, to prevent the Sikhs from advancing towards Lahore. The regiments that had been left behind at Ramnuggur rejoined the army, their place being taken by the 53d Regiment from Lahore.

General Whish's force which had captured Mooltan was now on its way to join that of Lord Gough. The siege of Mooltan had been renewed after the departure of Sher Singh's army, and reinforcements having reached General Whish, it was pushed on with great vigour. Two breaches were effected in the walls of the fort, and the great mosque, which was used as a magazine by the rebels, was pierced by a shell, which caused a terrific explosion, entirely destroying the building, leaving a great chasm where it had stood, levelling the Sikh works near it, and killing five hundred men. Soon after this misfortune, Moolraj, finding further resistance impossible, came out and surrendered unconditionally, just as the British columns were formed up in readiness to storm the breaches. He was taken to Calcutta and there tried; he was found guilty, but it being considered that he had acted under a pressure from his troops that he was unable to resist, he was sentenced only to imprisonment for life.

At the battle of Chillianwalla Percy Groves had been severely wounded. He was sitting on his horse with Mr. Fullarton and two or three other political officers at a distance of a hundred yards from the head-quarters staff, when Pope's cavalry issued in headlong flight from the jungle. An exclamation of dismay burst from each member of the little party.

"It is a regular stampede," Mr. Fullarton exclaimed; "there come the Sikhs after them! Why, they are comparatively a handful! What on earth possesses the men? Why, they will be over the guns! Did you ever see such madness?"

On came the fugitives.

"To the right there!" Mr. Fullarton shouted, "or these madmen will ride us down."

They had but just got clear of the front when the cavalry swept past; before they could go farther half a dozen Sikh horsemen rode at them. The civilians all carried pistols, and these they used with some effect. Two of the Sikhs fell, the rest rushed on them. Percy had no sword, and thought that his end had come; when there was a shout, and his two followers rode past him, and fiercely fell upon the Sikhs.

Percy turned round in time to see two of the civilians cut down by the tulwars of the other Sikhs, while Mr. Fullarton tried with his pistol to ward off a blow aimed at him. The force of the blow struck it down and the sword fell on his shoulder. Before the Sikh had time to strike again he was shot by Bhop Lal, and the latter and his comrade then attacked the remaining two Sikhs furiously. Akram Chunder ran one through with his sword. Bhop Lal seriously wounded the other, who wheeled his horse round and fled at full speed.

A moment later there was a thunder of hoofs, and the Lancers who had rallied, came dashing down. Percy, furious at seeing Mr. Fullarton fall, exclaimed, "Give me one of those tulwars, Bhop Lal." The man sprang from his horse and handed him the one that had fallen from the hand of the Sikh he had shot.

As the Lancers came along Percy with his two companions fell in behind them. They rode over many of the Sikh horsemen; the rest fled, and were hotly pursued back to the jungle, many of them being cut down. The impetus of the charge took the Lancers well into the wood. A blaze of musketry flashed out in front of them; a fresh troop of horsemen charged down, and a moment later they were engaged in a hand-to-hand contest. A tall Sikh rode at Percy, and they at once engaged in single combat. Percy's steady training at the fortress with sword and tulwar was useful to him now. The Sikh's shield gave him an advantage, but this was counter-balanced by Percy's being accustomed to thrust as well as strike. For some time the contest was doubtful, and then, after feinting at the Sikh's head to make him throw up his shield, Percy ran him through the body. He heard a warning shout from Bhop Lal as he did so, and the next moment another Sikh rode at him, knocking his horse off its legs, while at the same moment a crashing blow fell on his helmet. After that he remembered nothing.

When he opened his eyes it was dark. Presently he could hear talking all round him; he listened, and heard that the language was Punjaubi. He wondered to himself how he had got there, then he recalled a fight and gradually recollected his horse falling. "I must be wounded," he said to himself. "Yes, my head throbs fearfully; but how is it that I am here? the Sikhs always kill the wounded."

He made an effort to raise himself on one elbow, when he felt a hand laid on him, and a voice which he recognized as that of Akram Chunder whispered in his ear:

"Do not stir, sahib; thanks to the Great One that you have recovered. We were sure that you were not dead; the blow was a heavy one, but as you were falling when he struck, the tulwar did not catch you quite fairly, and the helmet helped to turn it, so that, instead of cleaving your skull, it has but shaved off a portion of your scalp and half your ear."

"But how is it you are here with me?"

"We were both fighting, sahib, and knew that you could hold your own against the Sikh you were engaged with. Suddenly, just as from the corner of my eye I saw that you had disposed of him, another rode at you. I gave a shout, and cut down the man I was fighting with; but before I could turn my horse you were down. I shot the Sikh, and then I and Bhop Lal, who had just rid himself of his man, leapt off our horses, intending to lift you on to one of them; but at that moment the Lancers began to fall back, and we saw that it was too late, so each seizing you under one arm, we sprang with you into a bush.

"Then, while Bhop Lal stayed with you, I ran out again, caught up the mantle of a Sikh who had fallen within a yard of the bush, and sprang in again. We wrapped you in the mantle, then crawled on, dragging you with us into a very thick patch of bush, where you are lying now. A moment later half a dozen Sikh infantry, pushing their way through the bushes, came close. One of them caught sight of us, and cried, 'What are you doing here, comrades!' 'My brother is sorely wounded,' I said, 'and we have stopped to close his eyes before we go on to have another fight with the Feringhees.' 'You must make haste, then,' he said, 'or there will be none of them left to fight with.'

"We heard large numbers of them pass along a short distance off, then volley after volley of grape came crashing through the jungle, and they fell back again. 'I will mix with them,' Bhop Lal said; 'you stop with our sahib. One is less likely to be seen than two. Your story is good enough to account for one if they catch sight of you, but it is not good enough for two of us.'

"For two hours the battle went on, but not near us again. The banging of cannons and muskets was as bad as at Ferozeshah. Sometimes I thought one side was winning, sometimes the other. Sometimes I could hear Sikh yells of triumph, sometimes a deep roar even above the din of the musketry, and knew that it was an English cheer, for I had heard it before. Occasionally men came along, having strayed from their parties; and each told a different story. Some said that many of their cannons had been captured by the Feringhees; others declared that the Feringhees were almost destroyed. Bhop Lal sat down only ten or twelve yards away, and I could hear him talking to them. Presently I heard him ask had anyone any water? 'I have a wounded comrade somewhere not far off in the jungle, and I want some for him.' Somebody lent him a water-gourd. He went off behind, and some minutes later worked round here with it. He would not come straight, for some of them might have followed him into the bushes, to see if they could do anything for his comrade, but this was not likely, for there are scores of wounded men round here. However, we tore off some rags and wetted them, and laid them on your wound, and we poured a little of it into my water-flask to sprinkle your face, and drop between your lips from time to time, and then Bhop Lal went back again with the remainder."

"But how has the battle ended, Akram?"

"It has ended just as it began�the white troops have all gone up to Chillianwalla and the other villages there. The Sikhs hold the jungle. They captured six of the guns our cavalry rode over, and they have lost twelve, but all small ones. I hear that almost all their gunners are killed, for the British took several of the batteries, though they could not hold them; and you know, sahib, the Sikhs will never leave their guns, but will stand by them till they are cut down. The men about here don't know what is going to be done. Some say that they will attack to-morrow; others say that though they have shown that they are more than a match for the Feringhees, it would be too much to attack them in their own positions, especially as they have not enough gunners to work the pieces.

"Perhaps we shall attack in the morning, Akram."

"I do not think so, sahib; they say that one of the white regiments had scarcely a man left, and that the others have lost half their strength. The general, sahib, is a great man for fighting, but he must see that until he gets more troops he can never force his way through the jungle up to Russool."

There was presently a sound of someone forcing his way through the bushes, then a voice said, "I bring orders that all are to fall back. It is not that we are beaten, as everyone knows; we have won a great victory, and have taught the Feringhees that they are not invincible, but food and water cannot be brought down here, therefore all must go up and get food and drink and rest for the night. The Feringhees have had enough, and will not attack again to-morrow morning; but if they do, we will come down again and welcome them."

There was a murmur of satisfaction, for the Sikhs had taken up their position some hours before the British attacked them, and were eager for food, as although spirits had been freely served out, the supply of food in the camp was small, and many had eaten nothing that day. Bhop Lal moved off with the others, but in five minutes was back again. As in the dark he was unable to find the clump of bush in which Percy was hidden, Akram called to him in a low voice.

"How is the sahib?" Bhop Lal asked, as he pushed his way in.

"I am better," Percy answered. "You have saved my life between you. Have they all gone?"

"All that can walk, sahib; there are numbers of wounded lying about, but there is nothing to prevent our starting off now."

"I don't think that I can walk yet," Percy said. "Perhaps in a little time I may be able to do so."

"I am afraid not, sahib; but that makes no difference; we can carry you easily. Akram, do you stoop down on one side, and I will do so on the other. Now, sahib, put your arms round our necks; we will clasp our hands under you, and you can sit then as in a chair."

Percy himself was able to give but little assistance, but he felt himself lifted up and held firmly; then slowly and steadily the two men carried him through the jungle. Once or twice they were asked by a figure on the ground who they were, but the answer in their own language, that they were looking for a comrade who had fallen, sufficed, as it was too dark under the trees for it to be seen that they were already carrying a burden.

"It was well that they didn't know we had you with us, sahib. Had they done so, we should like enough have had a musket-ball after us. A wounded Sikh is as dangerous as one standing on his feet."

But Percy did not reply; he only heard the words as if spoken a long distance off. A little farther and he was conscious of nothing. His bearers carried him a hundred yards beyond the jungle, and then laid him down again, sprinkled some water in his face, and poured a few drops between his lips; but as he gave no sign of returning consciousness, Akram Chunder said, "We had better take him on again. It is from loss of blood he has fainted, and we must get him to camp. First, I will again try to bandage his wound."

He unwound several yards of muslin from his turban, and bound up Percy's head. Then they lifted him and went forward, this time at a faster pace than before, for there was now no fear of giving Percy pain. They had to be careful, however; the ground they were crossing was that over which the cavalry had retreated, and it was thickly dotted with the bodies of the fallen. Once past this, they pressed rapidly up the slope to Chillianwalla. To their surprise they approached unchallenged, for they had been afraid that their reply in a native tongue would have brought a shot from a sentry; but such was the confusion, and so exhausted were the men, that while some regiments had thrown out sentries, others had not done so, and they were fortunate in having come upon an unguarded spot. A little farther and they entered the village. Numbers of men were lying asleep in the streets. Presently an officer came along.

"What have you there?"

"An officer, sahib, wounded," Akram Chunder, who had picked up a few words of English, replied.

"Where have you got him from?" the officer asked in Hindustani.

Akram could understand the question, but could not answer it in the same language, and answered him in Punjaubi.

"We brought him out from the jungle over there, sahib."

"I don't understand you," the officer muttered; and then aloud in Hindustani, "Come along with me to those lights, that is one of the hospitals."

They went with him to the door of one of the largest buildings in the village, and entered. The floor was covered with prostrate figures. Four or five surgeons with orderlies holding torches were engaged in bandaging, probing for bullets, or, in one case, in amputating.

"Doctor," the officer said, "here are two fellows who look like Sikhs, though I suppose they are not; they have got a wounded officer, but where they found him I have no idea. Do any of you speak Punjaubi? They may be able to tell us what those fellows over there are doing."

But none of the surgeons spoke the language.

"We will just see who the man is they have brought in," the officer, who was a colonel, said; "he seems dead by his attitude. Put him down there, men."

The two men understood his gesture, and laid Percy on the floor.

"He is not dead, but he is mighty near it," the surgeon said, as he felt his pulse. "Ah, this is what it is, a cut from one of those tulwars. He is bleeding to death. Give me that brandy bottle, orderly."

He poured a spoonful or two between Percy's lips, then laid some lint over the wound, and firmly bandaged it.

"Give him another spoonful, orderly, while I go on to the next; he will come round presently."

"Is it mortal, doctor?"

"No, it is a very nasty wound, but I don't think it has cut through the skull; the sword must have been turned a little. I will examine it in the morning when I get breathing time."

"I know him now," the colonel said; "it is that young civilian who came in the day we crossed the Chenab. Yes, these are the two native servants who always rode behind him. Come along with me, men; I must take you to someone who talks Punjaubi. You shall come back to your master afterwards; he is lucky in having two such faithful servants."

The men did not fully understand him, but Akram Chunder gathered the meaning, and with a look at their master they followed the officer from the hospital.