The Disputed V.C.: A Tale of the Indian Mutiny

by Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards

  CHAPTER XX

  An Adventure on the Ridge

  The attacks on the Ridge outposts had become less frequent and lessdangerous, though the cannonade was as brisk as ever.

  Early on the morning following the receipt of the amazing news fromAurungpore, Ted Russell of the Hindu Rao picket was roughly aroused fromslumber. All was hurry and scurry as company after company of the Guidesand Rifles ran to the assistance of the Gurkhas, who were bearing thebrunt of a cleverly-designed attack by ten times their number. Jim,Alec, and Ted raced to the scene of action, arriving just in time topursue the already defeated foe.

  "Charlie means to have that rag," Ted panted to his chum, as they racedside by side.

  Shouting, "Follow me, lads!" Dorricot had made a dash for the colours ofa rebel regiment, and was rapidly overhauling the flyingstandard-bearer, a score of mixed-up Rifles, Guides, and Gurkhasfollowing as best they could. The fight and pursuit were being carriedon over a great extent of ground, and only the few in Dorricot'simmediate neighbourhood knew what was taking place. Seeing that thepursuers were so few in number, a large body of the enemy interposedbetween the officer and his followers, barring their progress. CharlesDorricot broke through, cut down the colour-bearer, grasped thestandard, beat back his assailants, and for a few moments cleared aspace around him. But what could one man do against so many? Before helpcould come Dorricot was beaten to his knees, sorely wounded, thoughstill attempting to defend himself.

  He collapsed, a sword-thrust through his breast, just as CorporalThompson, a huge rifleman, forced his way through the mob by sheerstrength and weight and judicious use of the butt-end. In the wake ofthe corporal came Motiram Rana, a Gurkha, and Hassan Din of the Guides,but, as they got through, the rebels closed up again behind them,baffling the efforts of Ted and his men to follow. Whether their officerwas dead or wounded the three knew not; they meant to guard his bodywith their own. At bay they stood back to back--representatives of thethree regiments that had held the Ridge--and, facing them, the rebelssnarled like a pack of wolves around a wounded lion. Those behindpressed on those in front, and sepoy after sepoy fell before the weaponsof the dauntless three, the Englishman trusting to the butt, the Pathanto the bayonet, and Motiram Rana, of course, to his patron saint, thekukri. The rifle in the Gurkha's left hand was still loaded. Using theweapon as a pistol, the little man pulled the trigger, and the bulletpassed through two pandies at least. Having now more room, the giganticThompson swung his rifle round and round and up and down like a flail,and cleared a breathing space. The stock broke into splinters, butbefore the mutineers could get in he snatched a musket, cracked theowner's head, and the pandies again recoiled.

  "He's down!" Ted gasped. "At 'em, Guides!"

  He and Alec with their Guides around them were pushing and thrusting andsmiting their way through the opposing crowd, the pandies on thisportion of the sloping ground having rallied round their standard.Suddenly the mob bulged in close by where they fought, as a prickedtennis-ball when squeezed; and amid a babel of shrill yells andjabberings in an unknown tongue, a lane was opened up. A Gurkhacorporal had passed the word that Dorricot was down, and, collecting acouple of dozen furious men, had charged at their head. The viciouskukris flashed and flickered and bit deep, and the sepoys fell to rightand left of that living wedge of Himalayans. Behind them Ted and Alec,Guides and Riflemen, found their way, and the sepoys broke and fled.

  Ted was quickly beside his fallen cousin, and gave a little cry of joyon finding that Charlie still breathed. The cry was echoed by theGurkhas, who started in pursuit now they were assured of their officer'ssafety, but Ted restrained them. Dorricot's hand still grasped thecolours for whose capture he had risked so much, for which he might yethave to pay with his life.

  Ted signed to the Gurkhas to help him carry back their wounded officer.Motiram Rana proffered his aid, but Thompson motioned him back, saying:

  "Tha needs carryin' thysen, Johnny; tha'rt bleedin' like a stuck pig."

  Up came Major Reid, bringing his men forward at the double from anotherpart of the battle-field where the enemy's rout had been complete. Hisface fell as he caught sight of his sorely-stricken comrade.

  "The rash fellow!" exclaimed the commandant. "He had no right to pushthe pursuit so far with such a handful. I cannot spare Dorricot. Carryhim gently; and you, Paterson, run and bring a doctor to the house."

  Right glad was Ted, and hardly less glad were the Gurkhas, when thedoctor promised hope in spite of no fewer than four sword or bayonetwounds.

  "I have not an unwounded officer left, youngster!" exclaimed Major Reiddolefully. "Would you care to serve with me again?"

  "There's nothing I should like better, sir." And then the boy paused."Except that I should be sorry to leave the Guides."

  "Well, go to Daly; he's better off for officers than I am, and ask ifhe'll transfer you for a few days."

  Ted obeyed. Permission was granted, and he again found himself with theSirmuris.

  There were scenes in camp of a less tragic nature witnessed daily by ourtwo ensigns from Aurungpore. The peculiar methods of fraternizingadopted by the British riflemen and the Asiatics of the Guide Corps andSirmur Battalion provided plenty of amusement for the onlookers. TheGurkhas soon picked up a smattering of English, and a few began to speakthe language fairly well, whilst on the other hand the English riflemengave vent to their feelings in words which they imagined wereHindustani. "Good-morning!" the little men would say with a cheerfulgrin; and the riflemen, not to be outdone, would reply: "Ram Ram, JohnnyGurkha! Ram Ram!"

  Mixed groups would gather after any severe fighting to discuss theconflict and the conduct of the various regiments engaged, amid roars oflaughter at the interpreter's attempts to translate the remarks. Theywere, indeed, the best of comrades; for brave men, of whatever race orcreed, cannot but admire one another.

  One evening in early August, Ted and Alec, after a long visit to poorDorricot, joined their good friend Jemadar Goria Thapa, who was sittingon the shady side of the house-fortress watching the men larking. Hegave the new-comers a welcoming grin.

  "Good little man is Goria," whispered Ted. "We may as well sit by him.Those chaps are enjoying themselves, ain't they? Ram Ram, JemadarSahib!"

  Goria Thapa returned the greeting, and enquired after the health of hiswounded officer and friend.

  "He's doing splendidly, thanks! He must be as strong as a horse and asfit as a--what's the native for fiddle, Alec?"

  "Dunno; call it a tom-tom. Are you having a good time, Jemadar Sahib, ordo you wish you were back in Nepal?"

  Goria Thapa grinned broadly.

  "I like it," said he simply.

  "Hullo, Paterson!" broke in Claude Boldre, who had just strolled up."How's your cousin, Russell? I came to ask after him."

  "Doing finely considering, thanks! Look at these chaps. They're as fondof horse-play as a lot of kids."

  It was certainly an amusing scene, and though the merest clowning, eventhis kind of fooling serves to keep men in good spirits and temper.

  The corporal, Thompson, who had carried the wounded Dorricot out of thefight, stood 6 feet 4-1/2 inches in his stockings, and was perhaps thebiggest man in the Delhi force. The men were sitting about in groupsplaying practical jokes, and Thompson caught hold of Karbir Burathoki,the smallest Gurkha there, a lad under five feet high, and led him to anopen space within sight of the others. He there offered to teach theGurkha how to box, and Karbir quickly entered into the joke. Both pulledoff their jackets, and the Gurkha's face was entirely hidden by hisgrin. The difference in build between the two men was too much for thespectators, who shouted and yelled--"Go it, little 'un!" "Jump up and'it 'im in the face!" "Fetch a step-ladder!" "Now, corpril, go on yourknees and give 'im a chanst!"

  After a lot of preliminary feinting and puffing and blowing and strikinghigh above the Gurkha's head, the giant began to retire backwards,Karbir following amidst roars of laughter, the Nepalese spectatorsbeing quite as delighted as their English comra
des.

  At length Thompson caught hold of the little man and held him in theair, kicking and shrieking in pretended wrath. As the corporal put thelittle Himalayan down, he laughingly remarked: "Na, Johnny, tha con haudme up like if tha wants thee revenge."

  The Gurkha examined him from head to foot.

  "Hould the spalpeen up, Johnny, ye scutt!" advised an Irish corporal. Tothe astonishment of all, the little man calmly proceeded to place thegiant on his back like a sack of potatoes. Thompson offered noobjection, and Karbir was soon staggering from one group of laughingspectators to another. Suddenly upsetting the rifleman full length onthe ground, he sat on his chest and proceeded to light his pipe,whereupon the onlookers shrieked. Thompson arose, tossing the Gurkhafrom his perch, and the two strolled back arm in arm, attempting to keepstep, and quarrelling every few yards as to whose pace was at fault.

  Reid had come behind the ensign, and was looking on with twinkling eyes.Noting that Ted appeared astonished at Karbir's strength, he observed:"They're terribly strong are Gurkhas in the back, loins, and legs."

  When they had settled down again one of the Nepalese observed:

  "This war will soon be over. Jung Bahadur is going to march down toLucknow with his army."

  "An' 'oo the dickens is young Bardoor?" asked a rifleman.

  "He is our prime minister and commander-in-chief in Nepal. He offered tobring an army down to help you English two months ago, and now thegovernment has accepted his offer."

  "An' so 'e's goin' to wipe out the rebels, eh, all hon 'is own 'ook?"

  The Gurkha did not understand all this.

  "What chance will those dogs have," said he, "against ten thousandGurkhas? Truly, he will slay them all!"

  "Bedad, then," interrupted an Irishman, "tell him, will ye, wid mecompliments--Privut O'Brien's compliments--to lave a few fer us. Sure,we're wishful to git hould av some av thim Cawnpore and Lucknow haythen.Tell him to bear that in moind."

  Then the Gurkhas began to speak of their own beloved country of Nepal,by the mighty snow-clad Himalayas, of its wonderful beauty, and of itsunequalled sport and wealth of animal life; and the Englishmen tried toexplain the extent of their empire and the wonders of London, and toldof their mighty ships of war and great sea-borne commerce. They alsorelated the histories of their regimental colours, of the recent CrimeanWar, and of the fights between Wellington and the French. The Nepalesewere very much interested in all the tales of war, for they also hadtattered regimental colours of which they were very proud, and which hadcost them many lives.[16]

  [16] Before the end of the siege Riflemen and Gurkhas spoke of one another as "brothers", and at the close of the war the Sirmur Battalion begged that it might be granted a uniform similar to that of their brethren of the 60th, the request being willingly granted. The 2nd Gurkhas are very proud of the little red line on their facings, and the uniform thus gained at Delhi they wore in London at King Edward's Coronation forty-five years later.

  By this time the Gurkha hospital was very full. More than half of thosefive hundred men had been stricken down, and the Guides had alsosuffered severely. And the great city still defied the British power.

  A few more reinforcements were coming in, but no heavy guns had yetarrived. One or two new Sikh and Mohammedan cavalry corps and Punjabinfantry regiments, recruited from the Sikhs, Punjabi Mohammedans, Jats,Pathans, and Dogras, as well as the Kumaon Gurkha Battalion (now the3rd Gurkhas), were fighting on our side. The big Sikh horsemen, who wereproud of their new uniform and despised the rebel cavalry, quicklysnatched at opportunities to cover themselves with glory. The"Flamingoes", as Hodson's Horse were called, had not been in camp manydays before they were in action, distinguishing themselves in a way thatnone but the very best of troops dare attempt. Faced by a greatlysuperior force, Hodson, with supreme confidence in the steadiness andvalour of his men, feigned a retreat, and when he had drawn the enemyinto the open by this manoeuvre, the Flamingoes turned round at hiscommand and charged into the black mass. The foemen hesitated, confusedand bewildered; they glanced at the steady line of stalwart, beardedcavaliers, heard the thunder of the galloping horses almost upon them,and were routed, broken and scattered before the oncoming of thosedetermined Sikhs and Pathans.

  Though daily witnessing such instances of dash and courage, Ted Russellmarvelled less thereat than at the quiet indifference to peril displayedby the native servants. These men were not of the fighting castes: adozen of them would have fled cringing from the anger of a singleEnglishman, Pathan, Sikh, or Gurkha. Yet, in such different ways iscourage shown, they performed without flinching duties which mostBritons would have shrunk from. They would sit at their work or at theirmeals in the most exposed places, with bullets flicking up the dust allround, no more concerned than a bullock would have been.

  To bring meals and provisions to Hindu Rao's house they were forced tocross the dangerous "Valley of the Shadow of Death". Any soldier whomight have to pass this spot would await the opportunity to dart across;but these mild non-combatants would calmly walk over, and should any oftheir number be struck down, would stop to shed a few tears over thecorpse and then resume the even tenour of their way.

  The army before Delhi was absolutely dependent on these servitors. Inthat terrible heat the English could not have existed without them; andyet, it must be sorrowfully confessed, they were occasionallyill-treated by some of the more churlish and lawless of those to whosewants they ministered. The boy who bullies at school remains oftenenough a bully when he has grown up. Bullies are generally stupidfellows, and in the eyes of such men one "nigger" was much the same asanother, and the faithful brown servants had to suffer for the sins ofthe Cawnpore murderers. There was one man in particular, a major of the15th Derajat Infantry, whose bullying propensities had more than oncearoused indignation in the breasts of Ted's friends. Fortunately therewere not many Englishmen of his stamp.

  One day Ted was told off for picket duty with half a dozen men somedistance from the "Sammy" House. When close to his lonely post hisattention was attracted by the strange demeanour of a group ofwild-looking frontiersmen, assembled in a sheltered hollow. He drewnearer, and perceived to his disgust that a miserable native servant hadbeen tied up and was being flogged with bamboo rods, while a whiteofficer looked on approvingly. Ted recognized the man, and his bloodboiled. Taking no account of the difference in rank, he hastened to thespot, and hotly demanded what the poor fellow had been doing to deservesuch treatment. The major of the Derajats--for he it was--opened hiseyes in amazement, and his face became convulsed with anger. Controllinghis rage he contemptuously asked:

  "And who are you, little boy?"

  Thereat one or two of the Punjabis laughed.

  "I'm in command of this picket, sir, and I can't allow this where I'mresponsible. Look! the poor beggar is fainting!"

  The officer looked round--first at the miserable Hindu, whose back was amass of bleeding weals, and then continued to gaze about him as thoughin search of someone.

  "Where is she?" he asked at length. "I can't see her."

  "Whom do you mean, sir?" asked Ted in bewilderment.

  "Why, your nurse, of course; she'll be looking for you everywhere."

  Our ensign's face flushed, and his temper rose at the insult. He turnedto the Gurkha _naik_[17].

  [17] Corporal.

  "Karbir, cut that man loose!"

  The little man promptly drew his kukri and cut the thongs. One of thePanjabis stepped forward and laid his hand on the naik to prevent him.Karbir turned on him like a tiger, with kukri uplifted, and the Punjabijumped back. The major could no longer restrain his anger. He stepped upto Ted and struck him across the mouth with clenched fist, loosening acouple of teeth and felling the lad to the ground. Quick as thoughtKarbir dashed at the Englishman, but Ted, from the ground, shrieked outjust in time:

  "Back, Karbir, you must not touch him!" and the little man reluctantlyobeyed. Ted rose, now as white as he had before bee
n red. The majorlaughed.

  "Consider yourself fortunate, young man, if I take no further notice ofyour insolence. Do you know that you have been guilty of mutiny--rankmutiny--and that I could have you dismissed from the service? Now, youmay go, and explain the loss of your teeth as you best please. No--stay!I've not done with you yet. I'll teach you the difference in our rank.Order that corporal of yours to tie up that beast again, and thencommand each of your men to give him half a dozen strokes."

  Ensign Edward Russell cared a deal for his commission, and had no wishto be broken for disobedience, but this order he would not obey. Hiseyes gleamed as he scornfully cried:

  "You great detestable brute! Break me if you can! I'd rather lose mycommission as an officer than forget my duty as a gentleman!"

  "Did you hear my command?" the major repeated.

  Ted was silent. He glanced around, and beheld a tall, bearded man, whomhe had never seen before--a man with stern and forbidding look, inuntidy civilian attire. The major's glance followed, and an expressionof annoyance came into his face as he noticed the stranger.

  "Well, my good fellow, what do you want here?" he exclaimed.

  "I? Oh, I'm just looking round."

  "Oh! Then you'd better get back to whatever your business may be."

  The man was silent for a moment.

  "Won't that lad obey you?" he asked presently.

  "No, that I shall not," Ted asserted firmly, though feeling verymiserable.

  "What right have you, lad," continued the stranger sternly, "to questionyour superior officer's commands? Your business is to obey."

  "And obey he will," the major declared with an oath, "or I'll know thereason why!"

  "That's right, sir," agreed the tall man. "Always insist on obediencefrom your juniors."

  Ted was becoming nervous and feeling very lonely. Though assured he wasin the right, the boy could not but feel unhappy.

  The batteries of the Mori Bastion once more commenced their horriblework. Round-shot and grape whistled overhead.

  "What does it matter to you, young man, whether you obey the command ornot?" asked the tall man harshly. "That _bhisti_ will be flogged justthe same; he won't benefit by your refusal."

  "No, that he most certainly won't!" asserted the major with a repulsivelaugh. "Nor will he thank you for your interference."

  "I'm an officer, not a hangman," said Ted stoutly.

  "Well, you will not be an officer long," declared the major.

  The stranger had approached, and now stood by their side.

  "If you won't obey him," he said in tones of authority, "you must obeyme! I order you to place that man under arrest," pointing to the major."Do you hear me, boy?" as Ted hesitated in his bewilderment.

  The major swore furiously. "Who on earth may you be? What do you mean bythis impertinence, you drunken civilian?"

  The tall man took not the slightest notice. He looked at the boy withstern set face, and there was something in his look that enforcedobedience. Still doubtful, but unable to resist the tone of authority,Ensign Russell stepped towards the bully, saying:

  "You must consider yourself under arrest, sir."

  Naik Karbir understood some English, and was attentively following thecourse of events. He whispered to his men, and a couple at once placedthemselves, with bayonets fixed, on either side of the Englishman. Theprisoner foamed at the mouth.

  "What do you mean by this outrage, you young whipper-snapper? Take yourmen away! You'll repent this, you impertinent hound!"

  Our hero looked towards the stranger, who fixed his eyes on the boy, buttook no further notice. Then the major appealed to his men.

  "My lads, drive these Gurkhas away, and take that English cub prisoner.Kill those little fiends if they resist!"

  Nothing loth, ten men of the 15th Derajats sprang forward, and theGurkhas closed round their officer. The stranger raised his handimperiously.

  "Stop, my children! Come back!" cried a shrill voice, that quavered withfear; and the Punjabis pulled up short and regarded the speaker withamazement as profound as that of Ted. His new ally was the nativeofficer of the party, a grizzled Waziri from the Bannu district.

  "It is an order, my children; we must obey," the old man continued tothe wondering sepoys.

  Their own subadar and chieftain on the side of the Gurkhas and of thatinfidel dog of a _bhisti_! What could it mean? But most astounded of allwere the major and the ensign.

  "What! Ahmed Khan!" exclaimed the bully. "Wilt thou suffer me to beinsulted in this way?"

  "What can I do, sahib? It is an order," the Waziri answered in troubledtones.

  Then the stranger spoke again.

  "Ensign, you are on duty here, and here you had better remain. I relieveyou of the prisoner." Turning to the Waziri subadar he continued: "AhmedKhan is thy name?"

  The subadar fell on his knees. "It is thy servant's name, O Hakim[18]!"

  [18] Lord.

  "Ahmed Khan, I see that thou dost know me, and therefore thou wilt obey.I charge thee to escort this officer--thine officer no longer, whosecommands thou must not obey--to the tent of General Wilson, and theresay who sent thee. Also, see that this _bhisti_ is carried gently to thehospital, and treat him well. It is my command."

  The Waziri salaamed.

  A shell whistled overhead and burst some way in front. A second quicklyfollowed, and splinters flew around.

  "This is becoming warm, youngster," remarked the tall man, smiling."Ahmed Khan, begone quickly!"

  The subadar whispered to his men, who thereupon glanced hurriedly, withawe-stricken eyes, at the bearded Englishman, placed two on each side ofthe prisoner, with bayonets fixed, and gave the word to march. Theescort moved rapidly away, the major too dazed and cowed to attemptresistance.

  The stranger advanced and placed a hand on Ted's shoulder. His face wasno longer stern and forbidding; it was the face of a great and good man.

  "My lad," he said kindly, "let this be the last time you disobey yoursenior officer. On this occasion you were right No gentleman, noChristian, could have obeyed his brutal order. But such a case rarelyhappens, and you must beware lest you take too much upon yourself."

  Ted bowed his head. He knew already that he was in the presence of thegreatest and noblest man he had ever seen.

  The stranger continued:

  "I see you are with the Sirmur Battalion. I have heard of their gloriousdeeds."

  Ted, full of the subject, and more at his ease now, poured forth forfive minutes an account of the valour displayed by Rifles, Guides, andGurkhas, then stopped, ashamed at having spoken so much. But, movedthereto by the kind expression of interest in the man's face, he added:

  "When are we to make the assault, sir?"

  The stranger's countenance lighted up.

  "It will not be very long now, lad; the time is at hand. Well, I havemuch to do; good-bye, ensign!"

  The man held out his hand, adding, "Remain a true, God-fearinggentleman, of whom your country may be proud, as it is not of that manwho has just left us."

  "Good-bye, sir!---- But would you tell me your name?"

  "I am Brigadier Nicholson," was the simple reply.

  Ted's heart glowed with pride and pleasure. He had shaken hands withthis famous man; he had actually enjoyed ten minutes' private talk withhim--a thing half the officers in the camp would have given much for.The name of the young general was on everyone's lips. Over the heads ofhis seniors in rank John Nicholson had been given the command of thePunjab Movable Column, and wherever that column had marched victory hadcrowned its arms, no matter what the odds. Along the frontier of theIndus, amidst the wild robber clans of Bannu, he was worshipped as adeity; and Ted now understood what had been incomprehensible before,namely, the strange behaviour of the subadar, and the sudden awe thathad fallen upon the Pathans as soon as Ahmed Khan had whispered themagic words "Jan Nikkulseyn".