Among The Pathans E-Book

William Murray Graydon

• Herausgeber: Bauer Books
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

When Jack Chetwynd dropped into the Bundar Cafe at Delhi one scorching afternoon in September of last year and informed me that we were ordered off to the Punjaub, I could have shouted for joy. I did not do it, though, for I well knew how scornfully Jack would regard any such demonstration. I merely nodded my head, lazily, and went on reading the Post with as much calmness as if such news was a mere every day affair.
"Yes, my boy," went on Jack, dropping into a chair and ordering a lemon squash, "we are going to have some fun. You know those rascally Pathans killed two or three of our fellows near the frontier station at Oghi some time ago, so an expedition is going up to give them a drubbing for it. It's a deuce of a country, they say, that Black Mountain region, and these Pathans are terrible fellows, too; fight like tigers. Plenty of chance for glory there, Charlie; so prepare yourself!"

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Among The Pathans

When Jack Chetwynd dropped into the Bundar Cafe at Delhi one scorching afternoon in September of last year and informed me that we were ordered off to the Punjaub, I could have shouted for joy. I did not do it, though, for I well knew how scornfully Jack would regard any such demonstration. I merely nodded my head, lazily, and went on reading the Post with as much calmness as if such news was a mere every day affair.

"Yes, my boy," went on Jack, dropping into a chair and ordering a lemon squash, "we are going to have some fun. You know those rascally Pathans killed two or three of our fellows near the frontier station at Oghi some time ago, so an expedition is going up to give them a drubbing for it. It's a deuce of a country, they say, that Black Mountain region, and these Pathans are terrible fellows, too; fight like tigers. Plenty of chance for glory there, Charlie; so prepare yourself!"

Jack stopped for breath, and buried his mustache in the icy goblet.

"And so the Rifles are really ordered off, are they?" I said, eagerly. "It's high time. I've been here nearly a year now, and the worst enemy I've seen yet was a rascally wild boar. Do you know how soon we start?"

"About the first of October, I believe," Jack replied. "And now come take a hand at billiards. You will have time enough to discuss the Black Mountain tribes between this and the first."

Jack's information proved correct. The Seventh Rifles, on whose regimental records I was entered as Lieutenant Charles Bentley, was included in the expeditionary forces, while Jack, whose regiment was still up in Sikkim, and likely to spend the winter there, was transferred to ours. The hasty preparations, the long dusty ride northward, the forced marches under a broiling Indian sun, all passed by with panoramic sequency. To facilitate success the expedition was separated into four divisions, which were to move in different directions. Our column, which was the fourth, marched up the banks of the Indus, right into the heart of the enemy's country, and early one morning we found ourselves in front of Katkai, a fortified town far up on a sloping mountain spur.

The enemy's outposts on the plain were taken after a brief skirmish, and we advanced on the town itself. The morning sun shone on our burnished arms as we marched over the plain, and the regimental drums rattled merrily among the hills. Within the town all seemed quiet, but suddenly a confused mass swept out from under the walls, gathering shape and form as it came on, until we could distinguish the faces of the men and see the sunshine flashing on their brazen shields.

The drums ceased, orders were calmly given, and the line of battle formed across the plain, a fearful array of bristling bayonets and snow white helmets, flanked by pieces of artillery. The enemy came on in a dense horde, as if they would overpower us by sheer force of numbers. We could see plainly their swarthy faces, their eyes glittering under their little cotton skull caps, their tangled beards, their clinched teeth shining out from their curling black mustaches. It was a band of reckless Ghazi fanatics, clad only in their loose white tunics and brandishing curved swords and shields of carved brass.

Fiercely and with terrible cries they came on, rushing straight into the jaws of death until they could almost grasp our outstretched bayonets. Poor deluded fools! A stream of flame and smoke volleyed along the line. The artillery thundered into their dense, tangled ranks, and down they went before the pitiless rain of bullets, struggling, shrieking, and hurling themselves almost at our feet. Another volley, and we swept over them with lowered bayonets. The carnage was brief, but terrible, and in five minutes all was over, not a man remaining alive.

In the excitement I hardly realized what was going on. When the column formed again, I was holding my sword firmly in one hand and wiping the perspiration off my face with the other. Close beside me was Jack. His face was black with powder and his sword was stained red.

"That was hot work, Charlie!" he cried. "Jove, but those were terrible fellows. And now for Katkai!"

The head of the column, a regiment of Punjaub infantry, had previous to this made a detour along the mountain and had gained a slight elevation to the right of the town. Already the rattle of musketry was echoing along the hills.

At this moment Captain Buller came up, lashing his horse to a gallop.

"Chetwynd," he cried, "take a small detachment and two pieces of artillery; go up that ravine yonder and gain the slope of the town. Reserve your fire until the attack becomes general," and, with a hasty wave of the hand, he dashed off to the front.

Jack quickly buckled up his sword. "Come on, Charlie. You will accompany me," he said.

There was pressing need of haste. We could hear the drums beating up in front, and on the walls of the town people were gathering. Jack selected two dozen, good men, and two Gardiner guns, with their artillerists, and wheeling out of line, we moved off toward the hills on the left.