Val and I; or,
The Wandering Boy of the Jungle.

Anonymous. 1882. Val and I; or, The Wandering Boy of the Jungle. Boys of England. A Journal of Sport, Travel, Fun and Instruction for the Youth of All Nations.

• v. 31, no. 795 : 310-312
• v. 31, no. 796 : 326-328
• v. 31, no. 797 : 342-344
• v. 31, no. 798 : 358-360
• v. 31, no. 799 : 374-376
• v. 32, no. 800 : 6-8
• v. 32, no. 801 : 22-24
• v. 32, no. 802 : 38-40
• v. 32, no. 803 : 54-56
• v. 32, no. 804 : 70-72
• v. 32, no. 805 : 86-88
• v. 32, no. 806 : 102-104
• v. 32, no. 807 : 118-120
• v. 32, no. 808 : 134-136
• v. 32, no. 809 : 150-152
• v. 32, no. 810 : 174.

CHAPTER I

One very hot day, I found myself in the heart of an Indian jungle, in company with a great chum of mine, Valentine Aubrey.

My name is Harry Coverdale, my age fifteen, my profession that of a rover in search of adventure.

My mother is dead, my father disappeared mysteriously when I was quite an infant, and has not been heard of since.

I have neither brother nor sister, and no relative except an uncle and aunt, who have been parents to me, and very kind to boot.

Val and myself were jaded and tired, as we had walked some distance under a burning sun, and having found a convenient tree threw ourselves on the ground beneath it to rest.

We were fully armed, as it beho[o]ved us to be, considering we were trespassing on the demesne of tigers, leopards, cheetahs, bears, hyenas, snakes, etc., one and all enemies to man.

"Harry," said my companion, "we've lost our way it seems. What shall we do when night comes on?"

"Do?" I replied; "why, lots of things. Climb a tree, light a fire, and keep watch in turns. I'm not at all afraid of the prospect, Val; in fact, I rather like it. Camping out for the night will not hurt us. It's just the time for tumbling across tigers. I long to encounter one, don't you?"

"Of course I do, Harry. But while we're waiting for a tiger to show itself, suppose we have something to eat?"

"By all means," I replied, "Have you anything in your haversack?"

"Only a few biscuits, Harry. By Jingo! I'd forgotten our compact. True to our character of hunters, we must depend upon our guns for food. They've brought us precious little as yet, though."

Big with expectation of bagging all kinds of game, we had come away from home with nothing in our haversacks but a few biscuits, tea, coffee, and sugar.

Val and I had spent many hours in talking over our plans in secret.

We had purchased two splendid rifles out of our pocket-money, and lots of ammunition, too, so that we were well prepared for our hunting campaign.

Nor had we neglected to make ourselves proficient in shooting, which we accomplished by practising frequently at the military firing-butts.

To test our efficiency, he and I spent one entire moonlight night in search of hyenas.

We bagged one, but nearly lost our lives in doing so, the brute was so ferocious.

"Val," I said, after a minute's pause, "I've an idea."

"So have I," he said, with a rueful expression. "Mine is that I'm awful hungry."

"Mine is," I replied laughing, "that we'd better go heads or tails to see who's to go in search of game, while the other stays here to light a fire, in readiness to cook when it's brought."

"Agreed," he said, springing to his feet, and producing a rupee. "You call to me."

The coin spun in the air, and I cried "a head!" and won.

"I'll be the hunter, you the cook," I remarked, as I shouldered my rifle. "You've got the flint and steel, Val, and there's plenty of wood about. Good-bye; I won't be long."

I felt no fear, although danger lurked on all sides.

I longed to meet a tiger face to face, feeling confident that I could hold my own with him.

Why should I be afraid of a tiger, when I was armed with a splendid rifle, which I knew how to use?"

In addition to this I had a revolver, and a formidable hunting-knife; so on the whole I was fully prepared for any emergency, as was also Val.

I sauntered slowly along, turning my eyes warily to the right and left, and quite enjoyed the beauty of the scenery and its surroundings.

Birds of bright plumage flittered hither and thither in the brilliant sunshine, looking like masses of jewels.

Squirrels climbed the trees, and chased each other in play along the boughs and branches, while occasionally the head of a monkey peeped out of a leafy cover to reconnoitre as I passed.

A murmuring streamlet went merrily on its way, from which I drank a delicious draught of water.

Cocoanut palms grew hereabouts in numbers. Mango and guava trees, full of luscious fruit, were within my reach, and I helped myself, and enjoyed the feast amazingly.

The occasional his of a snake smote my ears.

However, as I wore Wellington boots I did not fear them much, although at the same time I did not wish to be bitten, even through leather.

Centipedes, scorpions, and tarantulas were to be found in the hot sandy soil; in fact, the place teemed with nasty creatures, whilst outwardly it appeared a veritable paradise, the trees being decked with brilliantly-hued flowers of gigantic sizes, which dazzled the eye by their beauty.

I caught sight of a solitary deer, but, before I could fire, it bounded out of view, much to my annoyance and disgust, as I would have liked to have taken its carcase back to Val.

"Halloa!" I said aloud, as I saw a splendid peacock perched on a bough; "what a beauty! I'll have you for dinner if I can."

I raised my rifle, took aim, but dropped the weapon the next moment, as I felt something brush against my right leg.

Looking down I started; a large cheetah, or hunting leopard, stood at my side, and looked into my face with its mild beautiful eyes.

It rubbed against me again, as if it had been a tame cat, when I stroked its beautiful coat, and we became very friendly.

CHAPTER II

Whilst I was wondering at the strange phenomenon of meeting a tame cheetah in the heart of the jungle, I heard a silvery laugh, and a voice which said in good English --

"Who are you? How dare you come here you boy?"

I turned to see who it was that addressed me so brusquely, but saw no one.

"Where are you?" I asked, looking around in amazement.

Another silvery, rippling laugh was the only reply, which seemed to come from a plantation of bamboo trees, whither I hastened.

I caught sight of a girlish figure, but only for a moment, it had disappeared the next, nor could I follow without making a considerable detour.

The cheetah was near me, but on hearing a shrill whistle it bounded away and disappeared.

I was lost in wonder

It appeared to me such a mystery to be addressed in English in these wilds, and that the speaker should be a girl.

Although I was disappointed at not being able to meet the mysterious personage face to face, I was consoled by the fact that Harry and myself were not quite so much alone as we imagined.

"She must have a house somewhere hereabout," I thought; "and we're bound to meet her later on. Won't Harry stare when I tell him my adventure?"

I had almost forgotten my errand, or that a hungry companion awaited my return with impatience, when a splendid stag walked leisurely from covert to the rivulet, and drank freely.

It was a noble animal. I took careful aim and fired.

The brute staggered, and lifted its head high in the air; when, fearing it might be only wounded and would escape, I rushed forward without waiting to re-load, eager to secure such a noble prize.

But before I reached it I heard a roar, and saw a bright mass fly through the air.

The stag was down, and bestriding it was an enormous tiger.

The whole thing was sudden and unexpected.

I was annoyed at the loss of what I considered my property.

The tiger paid no attention to me, but busied itself in tearing pieces out of the stag, which still lived.

Snatching the revolver from my belt, I rushed forward and confronted the monster.

The brute fixed its eyes upon me, and transfixed me with its glance.

I had no more power to move or speak than if I had been turned into stone, but my thinking faculties were not suspended.

The tiger appeared to me the most beautiful object I had ever seen; its striped satiny coat looked like some much burnished gold inlaid with jewels, and its eyes gleamed like emeralds, whilst it horrid fangs assumed the form of beautiful ivory.

But although I was fascinated, I had an undefined sense of horror upon me which seemed to hold me back, and made my whole frame shiver as if I was attacked by a fit of the palsy.

The revolver fell from my nerveless grasp, and I stood defenceless and at the mercy of the cruel brute.

There was a sound like thunder in my ears, followed by the report of a rifle, which had the effect of rousing my dormant faculties.

I saw the tiger in its death agonies, crawling towards me, when I instinctively snatched up my revolver, and fired the barrels in quick succession.

Each shot must have taken effect at such a point-blank range; but so tenacious was the brute of life that even in its last extremity it reared on its hind quarters and tried to claw me down, falling dead in the very act.

In its fall it struck against me and sent me over like a ninepin; but I soon regained my feet, and looked round in the expectation of seeing Val, for who else could have fired the shot which saved my life?

But neither Val nor any one else could I see.

Placing a pocket bugle to my lips I blew a call as a signal to Val that I needed his help.

I listened for his answering call, but heard only the echo of my own in the direction of the bamboo plantation.

"Ah!" I murmured, as a light broke in upon me. "I know who my preserver was -- the mysterious stranger. I wish I could thank her."

As Val had not yet replied, I repeated the call, which was answered this time; and in a few minutes he dashed up to my side.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

Then, as his eyes rested on the dead tiger, he continued --

"Harry, you were in luck when you knocked such a splendid fellow as that over. How did you manage it?"

"I only came in at the death," I replied, in sporting phraseology; "the credit is due to some one else."

"Who?" he asked quickly.

"I don't know. I wish I did."

"Not know? Nonsense, Harry; it seems incredible that anybody could have fired and knocked the tiger over without you seeing him."

"It wasn't a 'him' at all," I said.

"You're only chaffing," he said, somewhat hastily. "It isn't fair, Val, when I'm so eager to know all about the matter."

"We can't eat the tiger, Val?" I said.

"Who said we could," he replied. "I wish I had won the toss, and come out instead of you. I'd have bagged something to eat before this, I know. But tell me, Val, who was it that fired the shot?"

"I don't know, I have my suspicions. If you will listen patiently I'll tell you all I know of the affair."

When I finished my narrative, he said --

"Harry, you ought to have followed her. We want food and shelter. Surely no one would be cruel enough to refuse us either under the circumstances."

"She evidently did not wish me to follow her," I replied; "and I'm sure neither of us would care to force our company upon her; besides there may be other people for her to consult -- a father and mother for instance."

Val was evidently disappointed.

We cut off portions of the deer in silence, being too much engrossed in our own thoughts to converse.

Secretly I longed to see the girl who had saved my life, and around whom I began already to weave a web of romance.

"And was it a tame cheetah?" Val asked, as we trudged to our bivouac, carrying a goodly portion of the carcase slung across a bamboo which we had cut from the plantation.

"Yes, and such a beauty. Look, here it comes again."

Something much resembling the friendly cheetah bounded towards us.

My companion dropped his end of the bamboo in alarm, and stood on the defensive, revolver in hand, saying --

"It's all very fine, Harry, but it may not be your cheetah, but a wild and ferocious beast."

We were very near the plantation at the time, from which a girlish voice said imperiously --

"Drop your weapon, boy, or I'll fire."

"Halloa!" exclaimed Val, "there she is. I'll find her, and see what she's like; so here goes."

And he ran towards the spot from whence there suddenly came the sharp crack of a rifle, which brought him up suddenly.

The bullet went clean through the top of his cork helmet.

Then the same voice spoke in Hindoostanee, the cheetah rushed at Val, bore him to the ground, and stood over him, growling viciously.

CHAPTER III

I was at a loss how to act.

My duty was to help Val; but in doing so I would only jeopardise his own safety and mine.

In sheer desperation I appealed to the girl in her place of concealment, saying --

"Please call off your cheetah; my friend did not wish to harm you."

"Harm me!" was the contemptuous rejoinder; "let him dare try, and see how it will end for both of you."

"Val, say you are sorry," I said to him.

"Shan't," he replied; "I've done nothing. I'm an English boy, and have as much right to be here as any one else."

"But it isn't your place. Why don't you go home and stay at home? That's the proper place for you," said the voice.

"I've as much right here as any one else," said Val, raising his head defiantly, only to pop it down again on receiving a warning growl from the cheetah.

A silvery laugh came from the plantation, and a death-dealing rifle was covering him, no doubt.

"I'm a boy," cried Val, "and if you were another I'd give you a good licking for setting a brute like this on a fellow; it's cowardly, and despicable!"

"Are you afraid?" was the question, laughingly put.

"Not exactly, but I don't like it. Would you?"

"Perhaps not. Azraal won't hurt you if you are quiet."

"Thank you for nothing. Why don't you go home to your mother instead of setting beasts on others?"

"I have no mother," said the voice sadly; "I never knew a mother's love and care."

"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," said Val, who was one of the kindest-hearted fellows alive. "Forgive me if I have pained you."

She spoke to the cheetah in the native tongue, when it lay down beside Val and offered him its paw in token of friendship.

"That's better," said Val, as he assumed a sitting posture, and shook the friendly paw. "I'm quite well, thank you; how are you?"

"Boy, are you fond of sweetmeats?" cried the voice.

"Rather."

A large packet fell at his feet, which he opened, saying --

"Come on, Harry; they're fine -- splendid. I say, miss," he cried, after he had eaten several, "have you a brother? because if you haven't, Harry and I will be your brothers. We'll teach you to lick anybody that behaves rudely to you."

"Thanks," she replied. "I'll think about it; but I say, can you shoot?"

"Well, yes. I'm on the look-out for a tiger. He won't live long when I meet him."

"Don't be so sure of that; but tell me could you shoot a guava off my head?"

"Perhaps. I'd like to see you first, though," said Val, with a grin.

"Would you mind my shooting at a guava placed on your head, eh?"

"You might miss, you know."

"Bah! I never miss. Your friend wouldn't be alive now else; he was in the way, or I'd have killed the tiger with a single shot."

"I don't mind being your target," I remarked.

"No, no," she replied; "you might get nervous. But Azraal, my pet, whom I love dearly, shall. There's a guava; place him a hundred yards away, and put the fruit on his head."

"He might object."

She laughed, and gave her commands to the cheetah, which followed me.

Judging the distance as well as I could, I placed the guava on its head; the beast remained in a statuesque position, neither moving, nor hardly breathing.

Val and I stood aside out of the line of fire, curious to learn how she would acquit herself.

A sharp ringing report, a cry of triumph, and the guava fell to the ground, pierced through the very core.

We were loud in our praises, and Val addressed her, but received no answer.

She had evidently gone, as silently as she had come, leaving us full of astonishment.

"I wonder who she is?" said Val.

That's all we could do -- to wonder -- for there was no doubt she did not intend to satisfy our curiosity, for the present, at least.

We shouldered our burden and made our way back to our bivouac, which we reached without further adventure.

"Here's the meat, Val," I remarked, as we put it down; "the next thing is to cook it."

"That's easily done," he said. "I've a cookery book," producing a well-thumbed volume; "but where's my haversack?"

It was nowhere to be found, and we were wondering who could have taken it, when Val said --

"By Jingo, the monkeys have stolen it. Look, there's a whole troop of them under yonder tree. One of them's got inside it, and is rolling about."

"Let's get as near them as we can and watch the fun," I said.

"Fun," said Val, in a grumbling voice; "where's our tea, coffee and sugar by this time, I'd like to know, and the snuff which I brought as a present for Golob, the shikaree," (native huntsman).

"Let's hope for the best," I said, as we made our way cautiously in the direction of the thieves.

We gained the cover of a tree close to where the monkeys were, and watched their tricks, breaking out frequently into hearty fits of laughter.

The various packages had been opened, and were being examined by the monkeys, that containing the loaf sugar being in special request.

The fights and squabbles that occurred over these toothsome lumps were extremely ludicrous, and mirth provoking.

The big monkeys chased the smaller ones, and forced them to disgorge their booty, amid shrieks and cries.

No sooner had one fellow stolen a piece from another, that he was chased in turn.

The violent efforts that were made to swallow the prize before it could be wrestled away, and the grimaces accompanying the operation, were of a character to move the risible faculties of the gravest.

Some went so far in their greediness as to poke their fingers into the mouths of others to abstract the sugar, and received sharp bites for their pains, all of which incidents ended in a regular free fight.

Those who were not fortunate enough to obtain a portion of the sugar, turned their attention to the coffee and tea, which, not being to their liking, was rejected.

But the best part of the fun was with the monkeys who had meddled with the packet of snuff.

They were coughing, sneezing, and rubbing their eyes alternately, so funnily that Val and I had to hold our sides.

One unlucky little imp, almost a baby monkey, had buried its nose so deeply in the snuff as to be in a state of frenzy.

It ran to its mother for help, who, on seeing its face smeared, put her nose close to her young one's, and immediately went off into a paroxysm of sneezing, greatly to the discomfort of another mite which clung to her back.

Val had brought a pocket looking-glass, and a pair of spectacles, as a present for Golob.

These were objects of great interest, and it was laughable to see the perplexity of the several monkeys, who got hold of them in turn.

On looking into the glass, and seeing themselves reflected in it, they invariably put their disengaged hand behind it, to feel for the other monkey.

In one instance when this was done, there happened to be a curious imp on the other side of the glass, who resented the intrusion of the hand by giving it a severe nip.

The spectacles were placed around the neck, on the top of the head, and tried on every conceivable way except the right one.

One fellow bit the glass through, and gave a series of shrieks in consequence.

"I can't stand this any longer," said Val; "they've ruined the spectacles."

Out he dashed, when the whole troop sprang into the tree, and was out of reach in a moment.

A baby monkey, however, tumbled to the ground in its eagerness to escape, and was captured by me.

The poor mite was in a great fright and cried piteously, for its mother, I suppose.

There was a great commotion up the tree among the entire colony, of which however we took no heed.

I had some sweetmeats in my pocket, with which I fed the imp, greatly to its satisfaction, and it soon became quite tractable.

"Look out, Harry, here's the mother," said Hal. "She means mischief."

A large female monkey sprang from the tree to the ground, and confronted me with open mouth.

I threw a sweetmeat which it disdained to touch, but made a rush at me, and bit my leg, fortunately through my Wellington boot.

I dropped the baby, which sprang on its mother's back, and both were soon out of sight.

The commotion in the tree increased, and many monkeys assumed such a threatening attitude towards us that I deemed it prudent to counsel an immediate retreat.

"Come along then," said Val, "I don't want to be bitten; the fellows have sharp teeth, and know how to use them."

We took to our heels, and, looking back, saw we were being chased by the whole colony.

How the matter would have ended I cannot say, monkeys are so spiteful, had not a diversion happened from the sudden appearance of a tigress and her cubs.

CHAPTER IV

The tigress gave a series of roars, making the whole place resound, which had the effect of sending the troop of monkeys off at a helter-skelter pace to their tree.

Val and I reached ours, and at once busied ourselves in heaping lots of fuel on the fire.

"We must climb into the tree," he said.

"Hadn't we better try the effect of a couple of shots at her first?" I exclaimed.

"And if we miss we'll have to look out for squalls. No, the tree is the safest place. We can take our guns up with us, and have a shot at her from cover."

"All right, I'll give you a lift and then follow you. I can climb better than you."

"I'm the best climber," he replied. "I'm not going to give up the post of danger to you."

A glance in the direction of the tigress showed me that she had not seen us as yet, but the cubs were toddling towards us, attracted no doubt by the scent of the deer's carcase.

Val sprang on to my back and climbed from thence into the tree, when I handed him up both guns.

The cubs were within a few yards of us now, but appeared afraid of the fire, and began to mew and growl.

I soon took my place at Harry's side.

The tigress, attracted by the cries of its cubs, came on at a smart trot.

"Now's our time," said Val. "Let's have a shot at her; but mind, no hurry. Take careful aim."

On seeing the fire the brute halted, and uttered a peculiar cry, which brought the cubs to her side.

"Now Val," I said, as I ran my eye along the barrel of the rifle.

We fired simultaneously, wounding the tigress and shooting one of the cubs dead.

The tigress roared and lashed her tail in a furious manner; and then, seeing the lifeless from of one of her young, caressed it, and tried by various means to arouse it.

"I haven't the heart to hurt her," I said. "Poor brute, how she must be suffering! Let her go."

"Nonsense, Harry. I'm hungry and want to get down from here to cook the dinner," said Val.

We fired and wounded the tigress again, which so infuriated her that she made a rush in our direction, entirely disregarding the fire, of which wild beasts are most afraid.

Catching sight of us she sprang over the flames, and began to climb the tree as nimbly as a cat.

We poured in a simultaneous fire at point blank range.

She tumbled backwards, and fell into the fire, but was quickly up again, with a singed coat.

Unluckily, Val lost his balance and fell headlong to the ground at the tiger's feet.

The brute seized him as a cat would a mouse, and trotted away with him in her mouth, followed by her cubs.

Val's danger aroused me, and I descended the tree, resolved to follow the brute, rescue my friend, or perish by his side.

Unfortunately I had her hind quarters only to aim at, and I might miss her and hit my friend.

I would have given my life freely to save him.

But I kept myself cool for his sake, feeling that everything depended on my doing so.

I suddenly recollected that I had not loaded my rifle.

Hardly had I rectified this oversight that the tigress halted, and this gave me a fair mark for taking a deadly aim, which I resolved not to throw away.

I fired from a kneeling position, and uttered a cry of joy when she dropped Val, staggered backwards, and made off with her cubs.

"Ah, ah!" I muttered, "it will take you all your time to digest those leaden pills."

I was at Val's side the next moment, peering into his face, anxious to ascertain if he still lived.

He had only fainted, and I busied myself in bringing him to.

I obtained water from the adjoining rivulet, and bathed his face and temples, administering, too, a small quantity of brandy from my flask.

These measures had the effect of restoring him to consciousness after awhile.

"Halloa, Val, dear old fellow," I said, "how do you find yourself now?"

"All right," he said, sitting up; "why do you ask? Isn't it time for dinner eh? I am so hungry."

"But are you hurt, old fellow? Don't you recollect the tigress carrying you off?"

"Ah," he said, "so she did; but after she had given me a shake or two I went off into a stupor." "Which might have ended in death," I remarked; "but thank Heaven you don't appear to be at all hurt."

"Nor am I, Harry. She must have carried me by my clothes. She wasn't such a bad tigress after all."

"I believe you'd have your joke if you were about to be executed," I remarked. "Let's get back to our tree, old fellow; we've got to cook our dinner, don't forget that."

He got up and leaned on my arm for support, for he was much shaken in nerve and body.

When we reached the bivouac I prevailed on him to lie down, whilst I busied myself in cooking the dinner.

I hurried to the bamboo plantation and began cutting down two stout sticks.

Suddenly I heard a loud hiss, and turning, saw an immense cobra, with distended hood.

At the same moment I heard a rustling in the grass, and turning my gaze there, I gave a loud shout of joy.

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VIII

CHAPTER IX

Harry and Val kept awake the remainder of the night, talking over what had transpired.

"As for tigers," said Val disdainfully, "I don't think much of them; they're nobodies in my estimation."

"Don't run them down," said Harry. "They seem very partial to you."

"Don't chaff, Harry. Mrs. Tiger treated me very fairly, certainly; but Dana isn't quite so chummy as she might be, you know."

"Oh, you think she favours me."

"Don't be conceited, Barry. Didn't she run after me when I went for the water? and you can't say she didn't knock that tiger over just when it was in the act of collaring me."

"I was there, you know, Val."

"Nonsense. I tell yon she likes me."

"And me."

"You are aggravating, Harry. Didn't we toss up, and I won her?"

"I am not convinced, Val."

"Then I'll ask her who she likes best when I see her; but there's daylight. Look at the glorious rays of old Sol."

The faint rosy tint of morn tipped the trees and bushes, and beautified everything.

Birds of brilliant plumage flitted about, making the place vocal with sound, chanting their matins, and looking as if they enjoyed their lives.

Troops of monkeys gambolled among the trees, hailing the light of the glorious sun as something to be thankful for.

Squirrels frisked about in search of food, and sat and ate roots and cracked woodnuts in their pretty fashion.

Even snakes came out of their holes to bask in the warm rays, which chased away the dews of night, and painted the flowers, which grew here in rich abundance.

"Isn't this glorious, Val?" said Harry, baring his head to the zephyr-like breeze.

"Very," replied Val; "but I begin to feel peckish. Thanks to Yunacka, we can have a venison steak for breakfast, I wonder where the fellow is?"

Hardly had he spoken than the wild boy dropped at their feet, having slept in the branches overhead.

Good morning, my friend," said Val, raising his cork helmet ceremoniously. "Talk of somebody, and he's sure to appear."

The wild creature laughed, and rubbed his hands as he held them over the blazing embers, the warmth being evidently very pleasing to him.

"Yunacka, you're to be scullery-maid. Attend to the fires."

To show him Harry placed some sticks on the fire, and motioned to him to do the same, which he did.

Now that they had a good look at him in the daylight, he was not so uncouth; there was something winning in his face, despite his general appearance.

"Now, then, for breakfast," said Harry, as he drew the ramrods, and prepared to cook the meal. "Val, skin the deer and cut it up in readiness."

Yunacka was like a parched pea in a frying-pan, looking at this and that, and watching Val's operations with evident satisfaction.

The hunting-knife was an object of curiosity to him.

"Here Yunacka," said Val, passing him a steak, "give that to Harry. Ha, you rascal! It isn't fit to eat yet."

Yunacka had given evident intentions of devouring the meat raw, but desisted on being reproved.

He saw the hunting-knife on the ground, and picked it up, and began examining it, licking the blade first.

They were greatly amused at his operations, especially when he cut his finger.

He showed his teeth like a monkey, glared at the knife, and then threw it into the fire.

"Halloa!" said Val, "don't make so free with my property, or we'll quarrel."

He drew the knife out of the fire, and put it aside to cool.

The tea and sugar were placed in readiness for use. close to the trunk of the tree, little dreaming that thieves were about in the shape of monkeys, who were pilfering the sugar, when they were detected by Yunacka.

Before he could capture the offenders, they were up the tree, chattering, swearing, and making faces.

Val, annoyed by their chattering, picked up a stone and threw it at them, to which they replied by pelting down wood apples.

Yunacka got a nasty crack on the head.

Picking up the knife, he ascended the tree, and then commenced prodding every unfortunate monkey he could get near.

Such a screaming and chattering were never heard than that now ensued.

Yunacka's sardonic laugh accompanied every yell given by his victims.

While enjoying the fun, a procession of servants appeared, bearing a variety of dishes, which emitted an appetising odour.

"Dana has thought of me," said Val.

"I bet she has addressed a note to me, Val," said Harry.

"We needn't have cooked our own breakfast if we had known; but there, I thought she wouldn't forget me."

Val was evidently smitten with Dana, and was working himself up into a belief that she reciprocated his feelings.

There was no note, only Miss Dana's compliments, which elicited a comical look of triumph from Val, at which Harry laughed heartily.

Yunacka's olfactory organs were tickled by the smell of the good things, and he quickly descended, with a grin of satisfaction, at having chastised the monkeys for their daring impudence.

The breakfast commenced, and the wild boy, who tasted delicious coffee for the first time in his life, enjoyed it.

So much did he like it that he suddenly seized the coffee-pot, and drank the hot stuff through the spout, scalding his mouth, at which he spluttered, and made such grimaces that his companions were fairly convulsed with laughter.

A dish of "kedgeric," made of rice and lentils, pleased him immensely.

He held out his plate for more.

Harry thought he had had enough, and refused, which elicited from him a growl of dissatisfaction.

Suddenly he seized the dish, and bolted with it into the tree, where he sat, eating to his heart's content, not caring a whit for threats or coaxings.

CHAPTER X

Yunacka hurled the empty dish at the fellow, and struck him on the head, and he went down like a ninepin, but was not much hurt.

Harry was angry at the boy's conduct, and called him down sharply. When he came, he caught up a stick and gave him several blows.

He was penitent enough after awhile.

He was receiving his first lesson in discipline, and didn't seem to like it much; his wild nature rebelled at all restraint.

At this juncture a bear came shambling along, and Yunacka, with a cry of rage, dashed out, club in hand, and attacked it.

The others watched the combat eagerly, and with anxiety, the bear being full grown, and a very powerful brute.

As usual it hugged Yunacka; who, however struck it with his club, and the long nails of his left hand tore its breast open. The combatants fell at last, when the wild boy managed to free himself, and, before the bear could rise, dealt it several terrific blows with the club, which stunned it.

The battle was over, the victory complete, when Val rushed in, and slew the animal with his hunting-knife.

After the things had been carried away by the servants, Val and Harry dragged the carcase of the bear to their bivouac, and were about to skin it when Dana appeared.

"That's, a fine fellow. Did you shoot it?" she asked.

"Yunacka stunned it," replied Harry.

"And I gave it the finishing stroke," said Val, assuming an air of importance.

"But where is Yunacka?" she asked.

He had taken himself off somewhere to dress his wounds.

"Will you accept of the skin, miss?" asked Harry.

"It isn't yours to give, it's mine!" said Val, with an aggrieved air; "but you can have it, Dana. Won't it keep you warm at night, eh?"

"Boy," said Dana, with a merry twinkle in her dark eyes, "don't give way to jealousy."

"Me jealous -- and of Harry? No. I'm sure you like me best, Dana; don't you?"

"Why should I like you?"

"Didn't you save my life?"

"So she did mine," said Harry, somewhat hotly, for he didn't quite like Val's air of proprietorship.

"If you are going to quarrel about me," she said, "I must say good morning."

"I beg your pardon, Dana," said Val. "It was stupid, of me. I'm so impulsive; and I like you so much."

"I apologise, too, miss," said Harry; "and -- and --"

"And you like me, too," she said, with a laugh.

"Very much indeed. You saved my life."

"Bosh! that's stale news," said Val. "Tell us something we don't know."

"Now, now, boys, don't quarrel. Would you like to come and see my home?"

"It would afford us great pleasure, miss."

"Call me Dana, please," she said, "it sounds better out here in the jungle."

"And will you call me Harry?"

"Certainly; it's a very pretty name, and a favourite of mine."

Val felt fit to commit some absurdity or other, he was so wild at Dana's familiarity with his friend.

"Val isn't at all a bad kind of name is it?" said Harry.

"You mind your own business, will you?" he growled.

"Come on, Val and Harry," she said, with a laugh, "let's have a race home."

Val's face brightened when she mentioned his name.

"What shall we race for, Dana?" he asked.

"Home, of course."

"Let's make it for a kiss?"

"Val, don't be rude!" said Harry, horrified at the proposal.

"I accept the bet, Val," replied Dana. "Now then, a fair start. One, two, three, and away!"

They started, Dana leading the way at a very fast pace.

CHAPTER XI

Dana won, being as fleet of foot as a young deer.

They halted at a gateway, hitherto hidden by the bamboo plantation, when Dana said—

"You've lost, you see."

"Yes, but you've won. I'm ready to pay you, Dana," said Val.

"But I don't want paying."

"Oh, come, that isn't fair," said Val. "You must be paid."

"As second, you've saved your stakes, Val," she said mischievously, "Harry, you can pay me."

Harry kissed her, and gave Val a look of triumph, and received one of defiance if not hatred, in return.

"You may, if you like, Val," she said demurely.

"I ought to have paid mine first," he said; "but better late than never."

He saluted her lips, and good humour was instantly restored.

They looked about them in wonder and amazement; here in the heart of an immense jungle, surrounded by wild animals, and noxious reptiles, was a house and grounds which could vie with any ever seen.

The demesne covered several acres of ground and was in beautiful order, and full of flowers and fruit of the choicest kinds.

The house, or rather bungalow, was on the ground, and contained many lofty rooms, the whole surrounded by a verandah, to keep off the sun, and to afford a cool seat for the inmates.

"Isn't this jolly?" said Val, putting his hands in his pockets, and looking round with the air of a lord, "I could stay here always, Dana."

"You're not a man, yet," she said, laughing.

"I wish I was," said Val.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because then I'd marry you."

"Oh, indeed," was the laughing reply. But suppose I didn't care for you enough, eh?"

This was a floorer, from which Val took some time to recover.

Not care for him -- impossible!

The idea was monstrous to him -- too ridiculous to be entertained.

"Besides," said Harry, somewhat spitefully, "there's money wanted, Val."

"Go it, pile on the agony! and all just because a fellow is honest enough to speak the truth. I mean to marry Dana, or not at all."

"Don't talk nonsense, Val," she said, smiling. "Let us eat some fruit."

They were soon busily engaged in picking delicious fruits, and eating them in this veritable paradise.

The sun was shining brightly, the trees full of birds, and a gentle breeze was blowing, making music to the melody of a miniature waterfall.

Suddenly a large cobra emerged from a rhododendron bush, and reared itself just in front of Dana.

Harry seized a stick to strike it down, when she said --

"Don't, Harry, it's one of my pets. See, it only wants to greet me."

She stroked its head gently, when it displayed every mark of delight.

Its forked tongue moved like a magnetic needle, and its body swayed to and fro with a graceful, undulating motion.

"It follows me about like a dog," she said.

"Come along, Baboo, and have some milk, my pet."

The snake glided along by her side, but hissed when the others went too near it.

She put a saucer of milk and sugar down, from which it fed, while Val and Harry looked on with wonder.

Both hated snakes, and invariably killed any they fell across, yet here was one quite tame, and displaying an affection and docility that was amazing.

"Are you afraid of snakes?" she asked.

"Yes, very," replied Harry.

"I'm not," said Val. "See, I'll take Baboo up."

Dana pulled him sharply back, saying --

"Don't touch it, for your life. A bite would produce almost instant death."

"And yet you handle it?" he said incredulously.

"Yes; I found it when it was quite a baby, almost dead. I fed and nursed it, until it has grown into the fine fellow it now is; but I have wonderful power over snakes. Come, I'll show you what I mean."

She led the way to the extreme end of the grounds, where there was a regular menagerie of animals and snakes.

"You see that fellow," she said, pointing out a huge cobra, which struck at the wire netting viciously, "it's of a species called cannibal, because it eats its fellow snakes, and is perfectly untameable."

"You're' not going to handle that fellow, surely?" said Val.

"Yes, I certainly am."

"Don't, Dana; think of the danger."

Harry joined his entreaties to his, but she only laughed, displaying a set of teeth that vied with pearls in appearance.

"Stand aside, just out of sight of the creature," she said. "The sight of you irritates it; and mark what follows."

They did as she desired, and saw a wonderful sight.

The snake stood perfectly erect, being four feet and more in length, eyeing Dana, who remained motionless, its hood expanded, a sure sign of its being in a state of rage.

Like the rattlesnake, which never strikes until it has sounded its rattle, the cobra never bites while its hood is flat.

Dana fixed her eyes on the reptile, which vainly endeavoured to evade them, hissing and showing signs of fear now, as if it knew it was about to pass under a spell.

At first it swayed its body to and fro, almost violently, then this ceased gradually, and it stood perfectly rigid, as if suddenly turned to stone.

CHAPTER XII

Meanwhile another person, who is to exercise an influence upon the lives of the personages of this story, was unconsciously approaching.

He was a stranger, out on a botanising expedition, having come from Lucknow, where he was attached to the court of the King of Oude.

He was quite a youth, being only eighteen, and had only recently arrived from England.

He was handsome, clever, and a charming fellow, and his name, Clarence Fitzhugh.

He knew no fear as he traversed these wilds, pack on back, in which he kept his specimens, for he was a decent shot.

"Halloa!" he said, on seeing the smouldering embers of the bivouac fires, and the guns, and personal belongings of the boys; "somebody's about. I wonder who?"

He took up the rifle and examined it, when Yunacka, bristling with rage, dropped from the tree, club in hand, and confronted him.

The wild boy seemed to have some indistinct notion regarding the rights of property, and that the stranger had no business to meddle with the rifles of his friends.

"Bless me, what a wonderful-looking creature this is," Clarence thought. "Half monkey, half man, I should say. What does he want, I wonder?"

Yunacka jabbered like a monkey, and was evidently about to attack him, when the young man quickly raised the rifle and fired, thinking it would bring the owner of the weapons to the spot.

As before, Yunacka, on hearing the report, tumbled head over heels, and rolled over and over like a ball.

"That fellow would make his fortune in a circus," thought Clarence, as he watched the queer antics of the wild creature. "I wonder who and what he is? I wonder, too, if the owner of this carcase would mind my having a venison steak? I feel precious hungry. Here goes; I'll eat first, and ask permission afterwards."

He soon had a brisk fire, and proceeded to cook his luncheon, using the carcase of the bear as a seat.

Having got over his fright, Yunacka shambled back, looking penitent, and inclined to make friends with the man who could make thunder at a moment's notice.

"Well, my funny friend," said Clarence, laughing and holding out his hand, "Won't you shake hands, eh?"

Yunacka took his hand and looked at it, but did not attempt to shake it; in fact, he seemed at a loss to understand what was required of him.

"That's how it's done," said Clarence, squeezing the hairy boy's hand, and nodding good-humouredly.

Yunacka's closed on his with a grip like iron, making him wince, as he said --

"Hi! that's enough. Come, come; I don't want to shake hands any longer."

The wild creature grinned, and pressed harder, bringing the tears into his companion's eyes.

"I'll give you a smack aside the head, if you don't let go," said Clarence, at last. "There, how do you like that?"

Yunacka staggered under the blow, and released his hold. He did not resent it, but knelt at Clarence's feet to show him he submitted.

"I was a brute to hit you; you knew no better," said Clarence, patting him on the head. "Poor creature; come and have something to eat."

Yunacka was pleased to find himself received into favour, and began stoking the fire, casting a longing eye at the steaks, which were cooking.

Clarence lit a cigar, and commenced smoking, greatly to the wild boy's astonishment, who looked at the lighted cigar, and the smoke, with curiosity mixed with fear.

Perceiving this, Clarence good-naturedly lit another cigar, and handed it to him, saying —

"Try a weed, old man."

Yunacka squatted like a monkey, and then looked at the cigar, popping the wrong end into his mouth and getting burnt.

"No, stupid, not that way. Let me show you," said Clarence, laughing, and putting the right end into Yunacka's mouth.

He soon took to it, and smoked away furiously, watching the smoke curling above his nose with great glee.

"I wonder whether it will make the odd creature sick?" he thought. "This is an adventure if you like. Now for luncheon. Come, old man; everything is ready."

He gave the wild boy a large piece of meat, which he devoured hot, and with evident relish.

"What an appetite the creature has," thought Clarence. "There, there's more. Eat away; it's a real pleasure to watch you."

Yunacka darted away when his appetite was satisfied, and climbing a cocoa-nut tree, brought down some nuts, and gave them to Clarence.

He also brought guavas, mangoes, bananas, and other fruits, and Clarence enjoyed the best luncheon he had had for several days.

CHAPTER IX

Meanwhile Val and Harry watched with the greatest interest the struggle for mastery between Dana and the snake.

The cobra gradually sank to the bottom of the cage, and lay perfectly motionless.

"You can come now," she said, as she opened the door, and entering, lifted the snake which was as stiff and rigid as a log of wood.

They could not help observing the peculiar expression of her face more particularly of her eyes, which blazed like fire.

She was a wonderful creature, and they almost began to be afraid of her.

"What manner of girl is this," they thought, "who can reduce a venomous untameable creature like this to slavery?"

"By Jove, Dana, you're a plucky girl. I think you could send me to sleep too, if you cared to try," said Val.

"I can mesmerise you," she said, laughing; "shall I try? If I do you are bound to tell me all your secrets."

They handled the snake with impunity, and examined the marks on the head, which were exactly like a pair of spectacles.

"I say," said Val, "I have an idea that you I and Dana could stump the country as itinerant show people; we'd make lots of coin."

"Not a bad idea, certainly," said Dana, laughing. "But I don't think we'll take up with it just now, at least. Come and see my other pets."

A large tigress, a splendid creature, bounded from side to side of its cage when it saw her.

It had thee cubs, the size of poodle dogs, and they also were evidently pleased to see their mistress.

"All my pets," she said, "have been reared from mere babies. I shall go in to see 'Pussy' and her little ones. Would you like to come too, Val?"

"Certainly," he said. "I'm not afraid of tigers. I'll undertake to kill any amount of them."

Dana opened the door of the cage, and went in followed by Val, with the air of a gladiator going to deadly combat.

"Pussy," as the tigress was called, purred like a cat, and rubbed its glossy coat against her mistress, who caressed her.

The cubs too frisked about, and one of them rushed through Val's legs, upsetting him.

Val got up in a rage, and kicked the cub, which howled with pain.

"Get out for your life," said Dana in a harsh voice, "quick!"

But Val wouldn't, although the tigress glared at him, and tried to pass Dana, who, however, kept her position.

"For Heaven's sake, Val, come out!" cried Harry. "Don't you see Dana's danger as well as your own?"

"Nonsense!" he said. "I'm not afraid of her."

The tigress growled, and rearing, placed its paws on Dana's shoulders, showing its horrid fangs.

"Val, go! go!" she said in a faint voice. "I can't stand this pressure much longer. Oh, Heavens, why don't you go?"

Harry rushed in, dragged him out, and shut the door of the cage, only just in time, for Dana fell, and the tigress bounded over her prostrate form.

"Run for assistance to the house," cried Harry. "Quick, or it will be too late."

Val was serious enough now; all the bravado had been taken out of him by Dana's danger, and he ran off at the top of his speed.

"Dana," said Harry, as he pushed his handkerchief through the bars, "cover your left shoulder with this; it's bleeding."

"Thanks," she said. "I'll lie perfectly still, and perhaps she will get pacified."

"Can I do nothing?"

"Yes. Leave the door slightly ajar when you get a chance. I can work my way gradually there, and get through perhaps."

Watching his opportunity he did this, while she talked to the tigress, calling it her "dear Pussy," and fondling the cubs, which raced over her in their gambols.

"Val has gone for assistance. Shall we shoot the tigress?" asked Harry.

"No, no; a red-hot iron will be the best. I'm afraid I've lost all control over her for the present."

Dana cautiously worked her way to the door of the cage, on her back and the tigress bounded from side to side, lashing its tail, and growling fiercely.

CHAPTER XIV

Meanwhile Clarence Fitzhugh had finished his meal, and wondered why it was the owners of the guns, etc., did not return.

"They can't have fallen victims to wild beasts," he thought, "or been murdered by the Thugs?"

He had heard and read of the existence of these wretches, who, under the guise of religion, entrap and murder unsuspecting travellers.

It suddenly struck Clarence that Yunacka might throw some light on the subject, and a horrible suspicion crossed him that the wild creature might have destroyed them in their sleep.

However, he put the thought away from him, as being too dreadful, and taking up one of the guns pointed to it, and then by signs hinted that he would like to find the owners.

Yunacka seemed to understand what was wanted, and led the way to Dana's house, followed by Clarence.

"Wonderful!" he exclaimed, as he saw the beautiful grounds and magnificent house; "this almost passes belief."

He entered the grounds, and seeing Val, addressed him.

"For Heaven's sake come with me," said Val, dragging him forward. "You're an Englishman, and can help us."

"What is the matter?" asked Clarence.

"Dana is with the tigress, and in an awful fix, and Harry's there; and -- hurrah! here comes the servants with the hot iron."

Clarence might well be pardoned for thinking Val a little cracked; his talk was so incoherent, and his manner so excited.

"There's Harry," he said. "Where's Dana?"

"Still with the tiger. Where's the bar?" cried Harry.

"Here it comes."

Thinking Clarence was a relative of Dana's, Harry said --

"Here's a gentleman. Is it your brother, Dana?"

"He's a stranger; I've no brother," she replied. "Oh, Harry, are they never coming? See! 'Pussy's' eyes are glaring at me so. She scents the blood on my neck."

"Let me join you," cried Harry. "The brute will turn on me, and you may be saved."

"Never; if I'm to die, it's Heaven's will. Look, look!" she added, as her face blanched; "she's getting more furious. Oh, Heaven have mercy on me!"

"I'll shoot the brute," cried Clarence. "It's her only, chance for life."

As he spoke he raised his rifle and levelled it at the tiger, who; with a growl lowered its head to bury its teeth in the throat of the prostrate girl.

One of the cubs managed to get through the partly open door, and began to mew piteously.

This circumstance altered the state of things, and probably saved Dana from mutilation, if not death.

The tigress's attention was taken off Dana by the solicitude she now felt for the safety of her young one.

Clarence's gun was raised, when Dana said --

"Don't fire; I think I am safe now."

The natives now came hurrying up with the hot iron, which Clarence took, saying --

"When I drive the tigress back, open the door and get her out. Keep as cool as you can; bungling at this moment might cost us all our lives."

He thrust the iron through the bars, straight into the tigress's jaws.

Quick as lightning Harry opened the door, seized Dana, and dragged her half way through the opening, when the tigress uttered a horrible roar, and appeared about to spring.

Clarence thrust the bar right into her mouth and pressed hard.

Dana was out now, and safe, but the poor girl had fainted, and had to be carried into the house, where she was attended to by an ayah, or nurse.

Yunacka meanwhile had got hold of the cub, and was pulling its ears and tail until it howled with pain.

He did this too in sight of the tigress, evidently meaning it as a retaliation for Dana's treatment.

The wild creature was passionately fond of her, and would have done battle for her with even the tigress itself.

The tigress, rendered furious by the cries of its little one, and the pain caused by the burning iron, bounded against the sides of its cage with terrific force.

At last it dashed against the door and it flew open with a crash.

But Yunacka was not to be taken at a disadvantage. Perceiving his danger, he climbed the nearest tree, taking the cub with him.

The news of the tigress having got loose was carried to the house by the natives, and caused no little uneasiness.

Every door and window was instantly secured to prevent the creature from obtaining ingress.

Clarence, Val and Harry held a council of war, but could come to no definite conclusion as to the best course to pursue.

"If human life is endangered," said Clarence, "we must sacrifice the tigress, trusting to the young lady's good sense to hold us blameless."

One of the servants entered to tell them that if they liked to ascend the roof -- a flat one -- they could see what was going on in the grounds.

Clarence took his gun up with him, and when they were there a comical sight met their gaze.

They could not help laughing.

Yunacka was up the tree, and the tiger was clambering after him like a cat, eager to rescue her cub, which was mewing piteously.

The wild boy was having a regular lark with the tigress, seating himself on a bough, and letting her almost reach him, when, with a spring, he would go higher, and then pinch the cub to make it howl.

They could hear his guttural laugh as he showed the young one to its mother to increase her rage.

Higher and higher went Yunacka, careful not to assume a position where the tiger could make a spring at him.

When he had ascended as high as he thought prudent he ran out along a bough, and sat almost at the extreme end, making it sway under his weight.

The tigress, bent on succouring its young, crept along the branch, keeping its eyes fixed on Yunacka, who seemed to enjoy the occasion to his heart's content.

He left off swaying occasionally to allow the tigress a chance of getting a foot or so further, and then increased the oscillation, much to her perplexity.

Despite her nimbleness she had all her work to do to keep on the bough.

Louder and louder did Yunacka laugh, it became a perfect yell, and sounded horribly discordant and demoniacal.

Suddenly he placed the cub on a branch just above him, and, dropping on to a bough beneath, descended to the ground.

CHAPTER XV

Yunacka climbed to the roof and joined the others, evidently well pleased with his exploit.

Meanwhile, the tigress had a difficult task to accomplish in rescuing the cub and descending with it in safety.

Raising itself, it seized the cub in its mouth, and then commenced to recede slowly, balancing itself as dexterously as a tight-rope dancer.

Dana now joined the others on the roof with a smiling face, and looking little, if anything, the worse for her recent misadventure.

They congratulated her, and Val fell on his knees and begged her pardon.

"Can you forgive me, Dana?" he asked.

"Certainly! you, deserve praise for your courage, although it was akin to foolhardiness."

Then, turning to Clarence, she said --

"Accept my thanks, sir, for your timely assistance; thanks to you and my young friends here, I escaped from a terrible danger."

"It afforded me great pleasure, miss, to be of service to you," replied Clarence. "Allow me to express the hope that you are none the worse for your trying ordeal?"

She made a suitable reply, and then, catching sight of the tigress, cried --

"'Pussy' is in a great strait. I must go and get her help."

The lads offered their services; but she said, with a smile—

"Thanks; but the sight of you would only irritate her."

Shortly afterwards she appeared in the grounds, accompanied by two natives, carrying a long ladder.

"She'll be killed," said Val.

"She evidently has faith in the brute, or she wouldn't run a second risk in so short a time," said Clarence.

Now that the irritation has passed the tigress most likely will resume its old relations with her."

"Have your gun in readiness; or if you like I will take it," said Harry.

"Thanks, no," said Clarence, "I will keep it ready myself; I've been told I am a good shot, and I know it."

The scene was now getting exciting; the ladder had been placed, and the tigress was evidently debating within itself whether to make use of the means of descent thus offered.

Dana encouraged her to descend by voice and example, ascending a little way herself, and then descending.

The tigress evidently knew how to calculate chances, for it looked about, examining the other means of descent.

After a little persuasion from Dana, the creature descended the ladder.

Dana had sent the natives indoors to be out of danger.

"If she attempts to attack you," shouted Clarence, "throw yourself flat on the ground, and I'll save you."

Dana raised her hand to intimate she had heard him.

Val paced the roof, anathematising himself for the part he had played in bringing such danger about.

Clarence, although anxious about her, did not allow his presence of mind to desert him in this critical juncture.

He was calm and collected as he stood, gun in hand, ready to send a leaden messenger to Dana's succour, if the need should arise.

Even the natives were in a great state of alarm for the safety of their young mistress, whom they loved devotedly.

Nothing but her strict injunctions kept them from rushing to her side.

The odds were that the tigress would assail her.

At this crisis a horseman rode through the gate, dismounted, and advanced to Dana's side.

"My darling, go into the house," he said. "Leave Pussy to me. I will come to you presently. I have grave news to tell."

She obeyed, and joined the others on the roof.

The new arrival was Dana's father.

He was a man of splendid physique, and his iron-grey hair curled over his massive forehead.

The name he went by out in these wilds was Fitzmaurice, but why he should have selected this out-of-the-way spot for a habitation was a mystery.

One look at his face told its own tale.

He had suffered some great sorrow, which had left its mark there in deep-lined furrows.

Harry looked at him with great interest without knowing why.

The tigress seemed to be more under his control than Dana's, and he soon caged the pair, and the danger, which had threatened to be serious, was over.

"My father has a wonderful power over animals," said Dana, looking towards him with an expression of affectionate pride which bespoke the love which existed between them. "I suppose I inherit mine from him. But let us go down; I'll introduce you to him."

They were soon assembled in the verandah and being introduced in turn.

When the old gentleman heard Harry's family name the youth thought he noticed him start, and eyed him keenly.

"I am pleased to see you all, although I must confess my surprise. Visitors here are a rare event. But I have something to tell you. The sepoys have mutinied, and I regret to say are committing outrages on every European unfortunate enough to fall into their hands," said Fitzmaurice.

"I heard a rumour of their disaffection before I left Oude," Clarence observed. "I sincerely hope you will be safe from their depredations here."

"Thanks for the wish," was the reply. "I love my jungle home, and will not leave it unless I am forced. If they should come, they'll get a warm reception. I have plenty of arms and ammunition, and can stake my life on the fidelity of my servants. If Dana was only in a place of absolute safety, I would not care for myself."

"Do not send me away, dear father," pleaded the girl, with tearful eyes. If there is danger, let me face it with you."

"I'll stay too, sir, if you have no objection,'' said Harry.

"And I," said Val and Clarence.

"We'll hold a council of war to-night. Meanwhile I'll send out a trusty messenger to obtain news," said Fitzmaurice.

In the excitement of the moment, neither Val nor Harry thought of the danger to their own relatives.

Harry's uncle and Val's father were officers of a sepoy regiment, and would no doubt be in deadly peril of their lives, as also would their families.

To go back to the cantonments now would be madness, especially as bands of mutineers were about, from none of which could they hope for mercy.

Val was rather glad of the prospect of a brush with the enemy, and said to his friend when they were alone --

"Won't it be jolly, Harry, potting men instead of wild beasts?"

"Perhaps you won't like it when it comes, Val," replied Harry.

"Bah!, you're always looking at the dark side of things. I think a fight in real earnest against odds is glorious."

"What about those at home?" asked Harry, looking hard at him.

"By Jove! what indeed? I never gave it a thought. They'll be in the very thick of it, won't they?" said Val.

"Yes; but we mustn't think of joining them. They'll be awfully anxious about us."

"I'm sorry we left home, now; but how were we to guess such a thing was going to happen?

"Our duty is clear. We must stay and assist in defending Dana and her father," Harry observed. "Don't you think he's very like the portrait of my father?"

"What a fellow it is for seeing family likenesses in everybody he meets," said Val, with a mocking laugh. "But seriously, Harry, I do see a likeness. It is a mere coincidence, I suppose."

"Perhaps so, old fellow. You don't know how much the matter affects me."

"I know how it affects me, though."

"How?"

"If he your father, Dana must be your sister, Harry; and a fellow can't marry his sister, you know."

Harry laughed, and as they were joined by their friends, the subject dropped.

"Dana," said her father, "you must be our quarter-master for the nonce -- take stock of arms, ammunition and food, and bring me the account. We may have to stand a siege."

The beautiful girl was delighted at the office assigned her, especially as it proved beyond doubt that her father intended her to remain with him.

She went out with a beaming then Mr. Fitzmaurice said --

"Now, to business. I don't suppose any of you know much about fortifying a place?"

"Well, no," said Val, "I can't say we do; but we know a lot about defending fortifications."

"I know a little, sir," said Clarence modestly, "having studied for a few years at a military school."

"And you, boy?" asked Fitzmaurice, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I'm like Val, sir," he replied. "All I can do is to shoot straight."

"An excellent accomplishment, too," he remarked, with a smile. "Well, then, Mr. Fitzhugh and myself must be the engineers. You two go and help Dana; I daresay she will be glad of your company,"

They wished nothing better, and were soon at her side, carrying out her instructions.

They found her very sharp and intelligent, and quite equal to her task.

They were glad to find that there was a plentiful supply of ammunition, as well as several kegs of powder and pigs of lead.

"What a pity it is we haven't got cannon," said Val. "They're the things to wake the rebels up.''

"We have two," she replied.

"Where?" asked Val, looking round the storeroom.

"They're outside. We use them as posts, but they are as good as ever."

"But you haven't any carriages," said Val.

"We have men who can make them."

"What is to become of poor Yunacka?" asked Harry.

"We must get him in here, if possible; but sepoys would not think of harming a poor boy like him, bad as they may be," said Dana.

"Besides, he can take care of himself," Harry remarked. "They'd take him for a monkey; I'm sure we did."

They returned to the room, when Dana's father said --

"We have completed our plans, and will begin at once."

"Can't we work, sir?" said Harry. "If we had a mould we could cast bullets, and make cartridges. There are two cannon, too, which could be utilised."

"A happy thought, lad," he remarked.

"And I fancy I could construct a mould," said Clarence. "I have often visited Woolwich Arsenal, and watched the men at work there."

"Capital, capital," said Fitzmaurice. "I mean to set the servants to work at once. They will prove faithful to a man, or I'm much mistaken."

The servants were summoned, and Fitzmaurice harangued them in a short, stirring speech, telling them of the danger that threatened him and his house, and appealing to their loyalty.

They were unanimous in their answer; they were ready to die in his defence.

CHAPTER XVI

All were busily engaged day by day in preparing for defence.

Entrenchments were made round the house, with here and there a stockade.

It was cruel to see the beautiful flowers uprooted, and fruit trees cut down, but ruthless as it seemed it was a stern necessity.

The house itself was loopholed, and sandbags placed on the parapets, from behind which the defenders could fire in comparative safety.

Yunacka was here, there and everywhere, and occasionally took a spell at digging.

Several natives suffered from his pranks, as he would insist in shovelling the earth about in all directions, sometimes over their heads and backs.

Harry's first effort was to drill him so that he might get accustomed to handle a gun.

By signs he made him look at him, while he went through the exercise.

The wild boy squatted on his haunches, and watched him with interest.

Harry then handed him a rifle, which Yunacka handled very gingerly, trying to peep down the barrel.

The drill was a source of amusement to the others.

When Yunacka was tired he would climb a fruit-tree and regale himself, regardless of expostulations.

It was wonderful how intelligent and docile he became at last, although still full of fun and mischief.

In the middle of a lesson he would throw his rifle down to chase some pilferer of a monkey.

To get him accustomed to the sound of firing, a pistol with blank cartridge was placed in his hand and his finger put on the trigger.

When the pistol went off he turned a somersault. He smelt the burnt gunpowder, put his finger into the barrel, and then placed it to his lips.

A few rounds steadied him, and he then seemed anxious to fire repeatedly.

It was wonderful how soon he became a marksman.

His intelligence was developing daily, and he began to look more and more like a human being. He was also taught to wash himself.

The party were soon busy in making cartridges, casting bullets, etc.

The cannon were dug up and found to be in capital condition.

It was hopeless to attempt making many cannon balls, but they managed to provide themselves with a lot of grape-shot.

They knocked up rough carriages under Clarence's superintendence, and mounted the pieces on them.

In the evenings Clarence and Dana sang duets together, much to Val's disgust.

"Wait till I get home again," he said to Harry; "I'll learn singing, and lick that Fitzhugh into fits."

The messengers returned with news of the mutineers, who were slaying and pillaging not very far distant.

As he had drilled Yunacka so well, Harry was entrusted by Fitzmaurice with the task of drilling the servants, which he willingly undertook.

One day they received intelligence that a party of mutineers were advancing, and might be expected at any moment.

Fitzmaurice had buried his valuables in the garden, so that the insurgents were not likely to get much.

The provisions were to be doled out in rations when the siege commenced.

The greatest drawback was in the only well being exposed.

This was a serious matter; but they were prepared to face all risks rather than give in.

It was dreadful to contemplate Dana's fate, poor girl! at the hands of such wretches.

The messengers had brought newspapers, from which was gleaned horrible details of rapine, murder, and other matters, which made them sick with horror, while it made the blood course through their veins in their desire to be avenged.

Human tigers were approaching the jungle home, and they resolved, one and all, to defend it.

It is such desperate courage that makes heroes of men.

Val and Harry were to take their places among men, and acquit themselves bravely.

They resolved to die with their faces to the foe, and not like cravens.

Most boys of their age were at school; they were to attend another and a sterner school, in which to learn what human endurance and suffering were.

A look of determination was on every face -- even on Dana's.

Yunacka had got used to the sound of firearms, and would prove a wonderful help.

Harry suggested to Fitzmaurice to try the cannon with blank ammunition, just to see that everything was right.

He consented, and the roar of guns was heard for the first time in the heart of the jungle.

Notice was brought that the enemy were in sight, and among them one of Fitzmaurice's own people who had turned traitor.

This man appears to have nurtured spite and resentment in his heart against Fitzmaurice, because he had punished him for misconduct.

It was evident the fellow had lured the mutineers to the jungle home, promising them a rich booty, and an easy conquest.

His name was Baboo.

He had insulted Dana, and had received a well-merited thrashing.

Just as they received this intelligence Val and Harry were gladdened by the sight of Golob, the shikaree, or native huntsman.

The fellow had been sent by their friends to find them, and had come on the scene at this critical juncture.

He was a splendid shot, was full of resource, and would prove invaluable to the garrison.

The brave fellow was appointed to command the servants, under Fitzmaurice, of course, who was commander-in-chief.

The Europeans had assembled on the roof of the house to watch for the foe.

"There they are," said Fitzmaurice, putting down his field-glasses; "and I am sorry to say they have a field-piece with them, a six-pounder, so far as I can make out."

Several men on horseback were of the party, which numbered some two hundred or more.

This was fearful odds, but none thought of that for a moment.

Their faces were pale, but their hearts quailed not.

As soon as they came in sight their officers reconnoitred, while the men laid their field-piece. "Now then, lads," said Fitzmaurice, "give them a taste of our quality. Pick off the officers and gunners; we must draw first blood."

They fired, when one of the rebel officers and several men bit the dust, at which the defenders cheered lustily.

Dana's face was pale, but it was relieved by a beautiful rose blush.

"Down for your lives!" said Fitzmaurice; "they are going to return the fire."

They obeyed, and the next moment the rush of a round shot over their heads, within a foot or so, told them that the battle had commenced in real earnest.

CHAPTER XVII

From behind their sandbags the defenders kept up a destructive fire, Dana doing more in the work of death than any of the others.

Each time her rifle was fired a foeman fell, never more to rise.

What a picture was presented by that young and beautiful girl, not yet out of her teens, fighting bravely in defence of her home.

The native contingent could not do much as yet, for the enemy were not visible to them.

Yunacka was as restless as a hyena, walking hither and thither as if he wished to take part in the fight.

Getting impatient at last, he climbed a tree, from which he blazed away, chattering, grinning, and patting his rifle as if it were something to be proud of.

Finding the rifles of the defenders did terrible execution, the enemy retired to a safe distance, having done little or no damage beyond sending a few round shot through the house.

The defender had a breathing space now, which was utilised by having something to eat and drink.

On inquiries being made for Yunacka no intelligence of him could be got, except that he had been last seen in the tree, firing away as if his life depended on expending all the ammunition in his pouch.

The garrison was in capital spirits, for they had had the best of the fight so far, but the enemy would be sure to return to the attack, most likely at night.

Sentries were posted and relieved regularly, a guard having been told off, commanded by one of the Europeans as officer, to see that the necessary precautions against surprise were properly carried out.

The darkness would prove more dangerous than anything else, as then a determined enemy could escalade the entrenchments, and carry the place with a rush.

Val was in high spirits; he had knocked over a lot of sepoys, as he averred, and was anxious for the fight to recommence.

"Dana is very anxious about Yunacka," he observed. "I hope the fellow hasn't got into trouble."

"Trust him for that," replied Harry. "He is like a monkey, and would be out of reach of their muskets before he could be touched."

While speaking Yunacka appeared, bringing with him a set of belts, pouch, etc., and a sepoy's musket, which he had evidently stripped from a dead sepoy.

Harry was delighted to see the wild boy again, and patted his head approvingly.

An idea struck him.

If Fitzmaurice permitted, he would head a sortie, and bring in arms and ammunition, the former of which were needed, as many of the natives were armed only with muskets of the old pattern, some of them having flint-locks.

He at once sought the father of Dana, who agreed to Harry's proposition, stipulating, however, that they were to avoid a collision with the enemy if possible.

Val was to accompany him, as was also Yunacka.

They were in capital spirits, and hoped to return with a lot of prizes.

CHAPTER XVIII

"Good-bye, Harry," said Dana, "Mind and take care of yourself for all our sakes; and you too, Val. Look after Yunacka, or he'll be getting you all into some terrible scrape."

They promised, and started, creeping out of the gate on their hands and knees.

Not a word above a whisper was to be exchanged, or a shot fired, unless absolutely necessary.

Harry went forward, stooping low, with his rifle at the trail.

He was careful to secrete himself behind bushes and shrubs, until he could run across a clear space with safety.

No one was in sight, but he heard the hum of voices some distance ahead, and saw the watch fires of the enemy.

He was about to return, when he perceived a native creeping stealthily towards the entrenchments.

Harry could have shot the fellow with ease, but was afraid of alarming his comrades.

He decided to follow in his wake.

Resting his rifle against a tree, he drew his hunting knife, and stalked after him.

He watched the man's every movement, stopped when he did, and then, advanced, gaining on him by swift strides.

Suddenly Harry espied a large tiger crouching ready for the spring.

Harry threw himself flat on the ground, but in doing so made a noise, which attracted the native's attention.

The movement was fatal to the startled native.

With a roar and a bound the tiger was upon him, bearing him to the ground.

Harry shuddered, and turned to retrace his steps, but suddenly halted when he overheard voices.

He pulled up only just in time.

Another minute, and he would have rushed right into the arms of the enemy.

There was a screen of bamboos between Harry and the rebels.

"Let the attack be made to-night," said one.

"No; wait till the others come up," was the reply.

"Berga has gone reconnoitring. When he returns we shall know where to direct the assault. Baboo says they cannot hold out-long. There's plenty of money and jewels for us inside the house, and a beautiful girl also."

Harry clutched his hunting-knife fiercely, and sprang towards the speaker.

But at the same instant the roar of the tiger awoke the echoes, and the men turned and dashed into the thicket.

Harry reached the tree where he had left his rifle; and was soon with his companions, who had become alarmed at his lengthened absence.

The task of stripping the dead of their accoutrements was soon accomplished.

Twelve dead bodies attested the deadly accuracy of the rifles.

Harry gleaned from the number of the regiment on the waist-belts that the mutineers belonged to his uncle's corps, in which was also Val's father.

He called his friend's attention to the fact, and the thoughts of both went out instantly to the loved ones.

Were they safe, or had these scoundrels imbrued their hands in their blood?

They felt sick at heart when they imagined what might have happened.

They returned to the garrison, which had been kept under arms to rush to their assistance, had the occasion arisen.

A dozen stand of arms, and scores of rounds of ammunition, were not to be despised.

Dana complimented Harry on the success of the enterprise, much to Val's annoyance.

"Val did as much as I," he remarked. "We share the praise between us, don't we, Val? But we've made a discovery that has saddened us, Dana."

"May I ask in what way?"

"The mutineers belong to Val's father and my uncle's regiment. We do not know the fate of our relatives."

"Let us hope for the best. Don't forget that a Providence watches over all, and nothing can happen unless permitted for some wise purpose."

Harry took the earliest opportunity of drawing Mr. Fitzmaurice aside, and communicated to him what he had seen and heard.

"I am but an inexperienced youth," he observed, "but it appears to me that it would be wiser far to attack before they were reinforced, than to wait for them to receive reinforcements. They have adopted no precautions against surprise."

"It is not a bad idea," observed the gentleman, "but we are so few in number that the loss of even one would be irreparable."

"I am sure our loss would be nil. We could fire from ambuscade. Think of the wholesome lesson it would teach the wretches. They might retire altogether."

"We will call a council of war, and decide the matter," he said. "I must confess I am in favour of the idea. Nothing venture, nothing win."

"Besides, sir, personally I owe the fellows a grudge. They belong to my uncle's corps."

"We are in the hands of Heaven, my dear boy. We cannot do better than trust in Providence."

It was finally decided to surprise the enemy's camp that night at all risks.

Of course it would be impossible that Dana should take a part in such a hazardous undertaking, although she begged hard to be permitted.

She was to remain behind in charge of a small garrison, and received instructions in case of defeat, or the destruction of the force, to make her way to the nearest European station, which was Delhi.

"Dana," said her father, with solemn impressiveness, "it may be my last wish; I know you will obey me. Here is a sealed packet; in case I fall, open it; it will tell you all."

"I know you will return," she exclaimed, kissing him; "but in any case, I will prove myself worthy of you."

Harry's heart was full as he beheld this simple, but affecting scene, which told of the deep love they felt for each other.

Several times Harry caught his eyes fixed on his with a yearning look, for which the youth could not account.

"Why should he regard him so?"

It was a problem which the future alone could solve.

CHAPTER XIX

The surprise party sallied forth silently, like spectres, into the darkness, leaving Yunacka behind, as was supposed.

Everything depended on secrecy and despatch, and they had taken every precaution against detection.

The natives wore no shoes, and the Europeans placed stockings over their boots to deaden their tread.

They had plenty of ammunition, and better still, brave hearts, which were not to be easily daunted.

So far as could be judged, the natives, to a man, were loyally disposed, but religious and national prejudices might operate in their minds, at any moment, against the Europeans.

However, they had staked all on the hazard of a die, and must abide by the consequences.

Silently they moved forward, the Europeans in front, the natives in rear, in charge of Golob, the shikaree.

He was a noble fellow, and one to be trusted with all that one held nearest and dearest in life.

Harry walked a little in advance of the party, with acute hearing and watchful eye, ready to whisper "halt" if danger threatened.

Presently the glare of the watch-fires told that they were near the goal, and must prepare for a desperate struggle.

Harry was deputed to reconnoitre the position.

Leaving his rifle with Val, he crawled forward, drawing his body along the hard ground like a serpent.

A couple of sepoys were sitting before a fire smoking, their muskets resting against their right shoulders.

They were half asleep, owing to the effects of the tobacco, which contained a quantity of opium.

"They are delivered into our hands," thought Harry, with savage glee.

He took note of the position of the cannon, and saw no gleaming port-tire ready to hurl death from its frowning muzzle.

The arms were piled, which was in itself a fortunate circumstance, as by a rush they might be captured.

The soldiers were lying about in small groups of twos and threes, sleeping soundly.

Nothing could have been better for the purpose.

Harry was on the point of returning, when one of the sepoys roused himself and yawned.

Standing upright, he looked around, and fixed his eyes in the direction of the crouching youth.

After a series of yawns the sentries settled down into a drowsy state again, and the youth crawled back to his companions.

Swiftly but silently the surprise party moved forward, each grasping his weapon firmly.

Harry pointed out the various positions of the camp to Fitzmaurice and Clarence, especially that where the field-piece stood.

They then stationed themselves so as to pour in a fire from every direction upon the sepoys.

Fitzmaurice fired the first shot, which was instantly followed by a general volley, continued by independent file firing.

Clarence and Harry made a dash at the six-pounder, bayoneting two of the gunners.

"Quick, Clarence!" cried Harry, "the spike!"

Clarence placed the spike in the vent, and held it there, while Harry struck it with his rifle.

The fight went on with but little show of resistance on the part of the mutineers, who were shot down or bayoneted before they could seize their arms.

Some of the attacking party were wounded, but none killed, and all fought bravely on.

The din was increased by the roar of wild beasts, the trumpeting of a couple of tame elephants and the roars of camels.

Flash upon flash lit up the darkness.

The battle was soon over, the surprise complete, and many of the enemy lay with upturned faces, some writhing in agony, others past all earthly troubles, while many escaped in the darkness.

The victors gathered all the arms and ammunition and took them to the garrison, also the field-piece.

The wounded men of the party were conveyed on rude litters to the house, and they determined to return for the enemy's wounded in due course.

They were on the point of starting, when there came a yell as if from some human being in agony.

It was repeated, accompanied by mocking laughter.

The moon rose at this juncture, flooding bush and greensward with a soft, brilliant light.

The yells and laughter were continued, and in a few minutes were followed by some one dropping from the branches of a tree.

Another figure came after him, and both made in the direction of the party.

They were a mutineer and Yunacka, the latter in full chase, armed with a naked bayonet, with which he prodded his victim from time to time.

The wild boy seemed to have imbibed a thirst for blood.

Nor had he any fear of death himself.

He would have rushed into a breach or faced a battery.

They made the unfortunate wretch a prisoner, thus saving him from the fury of Yunacka.

The party had hardly got back to their entrenchments than the sound of a bugle awoke the echoes of the jungle.

The call sounded was the "advance," but they were at a loss to know whether it was given by friends or foes.

It was just possible their position might have been made known to the nearest European garrison by one of their spies, and that a detachment of troops had been sent to their aid.

All this was mere conjecture.

The bugle sounded again.

This time the "assembly," and the echoes went rolling along the leafy alleys.

CHAPTER XX

The wounded were conveyed to a room which had been set apart as a hospital. It was comfortable though small, and contained a few beds for the accommodation of such patients as might be brought there.

Fitzmaurice and Clarence were about the only two that understood anything about surgery.

Luckily the wounds received were not dangerous, and were easily dealt with.

Dana was ready with a supply of bandages, lint, etc.

The Europeans were glad to see such an excellent spirit pervading the native portion of the garrison.

Without their aid they could not hope to cope with the odds arrayed against them.

Any disaffection would prove their ruin, and bring death to all, and dishonour upon Dana.

"Well, Harry," she said, "your expedition has proved a great success, I fancy they won't attack us again in a hurry."

"Not that party, Dana. But unluckily they expect reinforcements, I heard them say so."

"We have plenty of ammunition now, Harry, and another cannon. But where's Yunacka?"

"He returned with us, and has since gone out again, I suppose."

"Harry," she said seriously, "do you know I have a dread that Yunacka will seriously imperil our safety?"

"You do not suspect him of treachery?"

"No; but if the siege goes on the enemy will see how he gets in and out of our position, and copy his example."

"I never thought of that. There's danger from that source, Dana. But I'll try and hit on a plan for stopping his migrations. He's as active as a squirrel."

Clarence came out of the hospital and joined them, saying --

"Harry, come and help me to get the spike out of the gun. If it isn't loaded, I think we shall be able to manage it."

"There's that bugle again," said Dana. "What is it sounding now, I wonder?"

"The 'advance,'" replied Harry. "I'm sure the mutineers have been reinforced. We must be on the alert. I'll just run round and see that all our sentries are at their posts. We mustn't be caught napping."

Harry set off to see that a good watch was kept, when Golob came up to him and said --

"Harry sahib, plenty fighting soon. More sepoy. Got big guns."

"How do you know that, Golob?"

"Put ear to the ground, and listen. Do it plenty time in jungle, when hunting."

The youth's worst suspicious were confirmed.

He sought out Clarence, and told him of what Golob had said.

"It can't he helped, old fellow," he replied, nonchalantly, "Let us hope for the best. Give us a help here, Harry. If we can get the spike out, we'll give them a dose of their own grape and canister."

They were glad to find that the field-piece was not loaded, which enabled them to work the sponge staff about freely in the region of the breech of the gun, with a view of dislodging the spike.

For a time all their efforts were unavailing, although they manipulated the staff skilfully.

"I'm afraid the head of the staff has too much play, Clarence."

"That is the fault, no doubt, Harry. Perhaps if we wrap something round the head of the staff, we'll succeed,"

The spike became dislodged at length. The six-pounder was now ready for use. Fitzmaurice and Val congratulated them on the success of their labours.

"I told our commander of what Golob had said," remarked Harry, adding --

"I think he is perfectly correct. But it would be as well if we ascertained the truth for ourselves. Golob and I could do this."

"I don't want you to be running your head into danger always," said Fitzmaurice.

"Give some one else a chance, Harry," said Val somewhat spitefully.

He was jealous of the lead Harry was taking.

"I don't want to put myself forward," said Harry. "I don't mind casting lots with you to see who's to go out on this business."

"Why, of course, that's the fairest way, Harry," said Val. "Heads or tails, that's fairest."

Golob, Mr. Fitzmaurice and Clarence looked gravely on while Val and Harry were tossing like two street Arabs to see who was to face death and danger. Harry won.

"Never mind, old fellow," he remarked in a whisper, "you have the best of the position.''

"How do you make that out?" said Val snappishly, "Do you think I'm afraid of danger, Harry?"

"No, Val, you're a braver lad than I by far. What I mean is, you have the privilege of being near Dana, and to guard her against danger. You mustn't forget that, Val."

Val was easily pacified and wished his friend "God speed" and a safe return.

As Golob was an experienced hunter, and knew how to track wild beasts to their lairs, Harry placed himself under his guidance.

It was a ticklish adventure he was bound on, especially as there were plenty of mutineers about.

Golob and the youth issued stealthily from their entrenchment, armed only with revolvers and hunting-knives, but with brave hearts that knew no fear.

CHAPTER XXI

They stole noiselessly towards the site of the enemy's encampment, where such a glorious surprise had recently been effected.

They found only the dead -- not a living creature was near the place.

Evidently the mutineers intended giving the spot a wide berth, not caring for a repetition of past disasters.

And yet no position could they have selected better suited for an encampment if only ordinary precautions had been taken.

"Where do you think they are, Golob?" said Harry.

Bending his ear to the ground, Golob listened, and then pointed in the direction taken by the enemy.

They stole forward cautiously, knowing that on all sides danger lurked. "Hist!" cried Golob suddenly, in Hindostanee, holding up his hand. "Down -- hide; somebody is coming!"

Crouching behind the bushes, Harry and the hunter held their breath in suspense.

The mutineers were posting sentries far in advance of their camp.

They overheard the instructions given to one of the sentinels.

"Golob, he must die," whispered Harry.

"Yes; the knife is best."

"Let me do the work," said Harry.

"No, you are but a boy, I am a man, Golob does it."

Finding it useless to try and move him, Harry agreed to the arrangement.

Like a tiger crouching for a spring, or a boa-constrictor lying in wait for its prey, Golob fixed his eyes on his intended victim, and watched his every movement, the while gliding nearer and nearer to him.

As if the sentry had a sense of the presence of unknown danger, he looked about him, and halted at the slightest sound.

Gathering himself together for a final effort, the shikaree suddenly launched himself at the sentry, like an arrow from a bow.

There was a sharp, short struggle, and the fellow fell dead without a groan, the hunter's knife buried in his heart,

Harry caught sight of the expression on the man's face as the blow was struck, and with a shudder turned away.

Suddenly he found himself seized, and, although he struggled desperately, was thrown to the earth and made a prisoner.

Finding resistance useless, he kept perfectly quiet, and allowed himself to be carried to the enemy's camp.

"We found this boy," said one of his captors, "and brought him here, major, thinking he might give you some information."

"Why, it is Harry Coverdale," said the major, "who was an officer in his uncle's corps."

"Yes," replied Harry, "it is I, but I never expected to find you a rebel, Custonjee; where is my uncle?"

"Heaven only knows," he replied, with a shrug of his shoulders. "Dead, I hope, as I trust all Europeans will be soon; we want India for ourselves."

Indignation kept the boy silent, and he glared at the dark scowling faces bent upon him on all sides.

He recognised many of the men, with whom he had been on very friendly terms in the happy past, when murder and rapine did not stalk openly through the land.

Strangely enough he felt no fear of these living men, fiends though they had proved themselves,

"Harry," said the major, "we have been friends, and I would save you. Your life is in your own hands. Consent to join us, and we'll make you an officer."

"Custonjee, you say you are my friend: do not insult me. I'd die a thousand deaths rather than desert my queen and country."

He spoke in Hindostanee, so that all who stood around could understand him.

Join such miscreants!

Men whose hands perhaps had been imbrued in the blood of those nearest and dearest to him!

His words evoked murmurs of anger from the mutineers, and the youth expected either to be instantly shot or stabbed for his boldness.

"Your garrison can't hold out," said the major, as he smoked complacently, seated cross-legged like a tailor. "We know how many there are there, and all about them; when we take the place --"

"When you do," remarked Harry sneeringly.

"We shall blow the natives from guns, and hang the Europeans, excepting the girl, who is far too pretty to die. She shall be my wife. Ha! ha!"

"You old villain!" cried the youth. "Were I not powerless I would kill you. Bah! you and your men are cowards and murderers!"

In reply Harry received a violent blow on the head, and fell back stunned.

CHAPTER XXII

When Harry recovered consciousness, he learned that he owed his life to the interposition of the major, who had threatened anybody with death who molested him further.

"He was always an outspoken youth," he remarked, "and I like him all the better for his courage. I have no son, and therefore I'll adopt him as my own."

This was received in a bad spirit by the mutineers, whose lust for blood was insatiable.

But the major was firm, and Harry was permitted to live.

The major gave him a bed near him by the fire, and made his attendant bring him meat and drink, of which he partook.

The old man's kindness won upon his heart.

"Keep quiet," said the major in a whisper. "I've adopted you as my son openly; trust in me and all will be well."

"Can you give me any news from home, Custonjee? Did they perish? And the Aubreys -- are they safe?" asked Harry.

"Yes; one and all. Do you think I would have stood by and seen my friends butchered? No, Harry, I'm not so bad as that. I and a few comrades escorted them as near as we dared to the English camp at Delhi."

"You are good and kind," replied the youth, pressing his hand, and falling asleep.

He awoke refreshed.

"Don't mind my manner to you at times," whispered the major, "I must speak roughly, perhaps threateningly, to keep up appearances."

"I understand, and will submit to anything but right down insult or indignity," replied Harry.

The mutineers numbered quite two hundred and fifty men, including cavalry, infantry, and artillery, all arms of the service being represented.

Three field-pieces stood grim and silent, only waiting to be wakened into life by the sulphurous compound known as gunpowder.

The sowars, or irregular cavalry men, numbered some thirty, and were rollicking-looking fellows, ready to commit a murder, drink a stoup of liquor, or kiss a pretty girl.

"What would I not give to warn my friends," thought Harry.

The odds were great against his party, and unless they kept constantly on the alert, the enemy would be likely to surprise them.

In any case they would be sadly harassed by false alarms and feints of attack.

Another danger against the garrison was the fact of such a man as Custonjee being in command of the mutineers.

He was known as a clever officer, and had seen a good deal of active service, which after all is the best qualification in a commander, who is thus enabled to combine theory with practical experience.

They were well provided with intrenching and mining tools, which could be turned to mischievous account.

The camp was astir betimes, and from the preparations going on Harry concluded that the garrison was to be attacked that very morning.

Custonjee advised him to remain in camp, without attempting to escape, if he did not wish to be shot by the sentries.

Harry rebuked the major in no measured terms for heading an attack on his friends.

"Always impetuous," he said in reply. "Wait. I have a part to play."

"I love my friends, and hate your men. Let me go and help the garrison. I cannot stay here listening to the thunder of cannon and the rattle of musketry without panting to be in the fight."

"Be sensible," he replied. "You'll never make a clever man, if you do not learn to control your feelings now."

The sepoys grinned, loaded their muskets with ball cartridges, and made all kinds of jokes at the expense of those they were about to attack.

They even alluded to Dana, at which the youth's blood boiled, and he looked round wildly for some means of escape.

Every avenue was barred by glistening bayonets, and his heart sank within him.

CHAPTER XXIII

Listening to catch the sound of firing, Harry heard a rustling in the tree under which he stood.

Raising his eyes he gave a start of delight. Yunacka sat in the branches grinning and shaking his fist at the nearest sentinel with such grotesque pantomimic action that Harry fairly burst out laughing.

"What are you laughing at, Harry sahib?" he asked. "Ah! a monkey, big fellow too. Shall I shoot him for you?"

"No, no, let him be. Ah! the fight has commenced. Listen!"

Heavy firing was heard, and then came answering sounds from the garrison, the sharp, peculiar crack of rifles, as distinguished from the ping of the musket.

"Ah!" exclaimed the youth, "that's Golob's rifle; I know the sound, it barks like a dog. Some one has bit the dust, and there's a volley from the housetop. Bravo! bravo!"

His excitement was so great that he forgot everything save the noise of the battle.

The cannon came into play, thundering forth notes of defiance which remained unanswered for a time.

Then came the bark of the six-pounder, which belched forth shot and shell. It was evident that the defenders had managed to get the small field-piece on to the roof of the house.

"Glorious, excellent!" cried Harry.

Yunacka dropped from the tree to Harry's side, and it occurred to the youth that the wild boy might be able to convey a note to his friends in the garrison, apprise them of his safety, and that of his own and Val's relatives.

Leaning back against a tree, he drew forth a pocket-book and pencil, and began to write, looking up frequently to see whether his actions aroused suspicion.

Luckily the sepoys paid little attention to what he was doing.

Having finished the note and directed it to Mr. Fitzmaurice, Harry waited for an opportunity to make Yunacka understand that he wanted it conveyed to the jungle home.

The wounded began to come in fast, evidencing the accurate fire of the garrison.

One of the wounded men became so infuriated that he picked up a musket and fired at the boy, luckily without effect.

So great was the rage of the wounded that the sentries left in charge of the young captive thought it right to tie him to a tree out of sight of their comrades.

This gave Harry the opportunity he desired of speaking with the wild boy.

"Yunacka," he said, in Hindostanee, loud enough only for him to hear, "take this to Dana. Do you understand me?"

The boy looked puzzled for a moment, and then his face cleared.

Taking the note from Harry's hand, he peeped round the tree, and then went off on all fours like a monkey.

It suddenly occurred to Harry that he might work himself free from his bonds, and escape from the rebel camp unseen.

"Thank Heaven, our fellows are well under cover," thought Harry, "otherwise there'd be very little chance for them. I hope no one is hurt. Perhaps I may be with them myself soon. At all events, here goes to try."

The ropes were not tight, so he had no great difficulty in freeing himself.

But before casting off his bonds altogether, he waited to see whether anybody would visit him, as he did not expect to be left entirely without supervision, especially as the major had given strict orders to guard him closely.

It was as well he took this precaution, for one of the sentries came suddenly upon him.

"I think it will be safe to release you now," he remarked; "but mind what you are about. Our fellows are as savage as bears at the peppering they've received."

"Serve them right," said Harry. "I won't be released. You thought fit to place me here, and here I'll remain until Custonjee returns."

The fellow was proceeding to release him, when, dropping the cords, and snatching a pistol from his breast, Harry shot him through the head, and ran into the jungle.

Several shots were fired after him without effect.

Exhausted at last, he threw himself under the shade of a mango-tree.

The coolness of the spot, and the quiet, after the excitement, soothed him, and he fell into a deep slumber.

He awoke with a start, and was surprised to find that it was evening, and that the sun would soon be below the horizon.

He listened for the sounds of firing, but heard none.

A cold sweat bedewed his forehead, a terrible feeling seized upon his heart, and he dashed forward at the top of his speed.

CHAPTER XXIV

Then Golob returned without Harry, and told how strangely he had disappeared, grief and consternation was universal at the lad's supposed untimely fate.

Of course Golob was unable to give Fitzmaurice any information concerning the strength or intentions of the mutineers, as the untoward accident prevented his getting near the camp.

Val was for making a sortie to ascertain Harry's fate, and in this he was backed up by Dana.

"It would be dishonourable to leave him to his fate, if alive, or let him remain unavenged, if dead," she remarked. "Poor, dear Harry, I began to love him as a brother, he was so kind to me and so full of fun."

"I know you liked him very much, Dana," said Val, in a voice of emotion, "and I was jealous; but you may marry him as soon as you like, if he comes back, I won't object."

Dana could not help smiling at Val's impetuous generosity in disposing of her hand in marriage.

"I'll bear your permission in mind, Val," she said, with just a tinge of good-natured satire in her tone. "I'd do anything to bring the poor fellow back again."

"It's very good of you both to feel so anxious about the safety of our brave young friend; if we had a large force at our disposal, I'd gladly head a sortie to rescue him, dead or alive; but, as you know, we are sadly outnumbered, and every man's life is of the greatest consequence to us all."

So spake Fitzmaurice in a grave voice.

His face was anxious and haggard.

This solicitude may have arisen from the fact of his having given a hasty and inconsiderate sanction to Harry's undertaking a mission so fraught with danger.

Next morning, at break of day, the garrison was up and at work strengthening the defences, and preparing for the attack, which was fully expected.

After a consultation with Clarence and Golob, Fitzmaurice determined to mount the six-pounder on the roof of the house, and to call the house the "Sandbag Battery."

This took some time and exercised the ingenuity of the garrison to a considerable extent, but necessity is the mother of invention and aided the labour to a successful issue.

Once up, the battery was soon finished and ready for action.

Arms were cleaned and looked to; pistols and revolvers loaded, and placed in readiness; and then the bell summoned all to breakfast.

Loopholes were made in stockades, to enable marksmen to pick off the enemy, and nothing that skill could devise was left undone.

The commandant moved from post to post, speaking words of commendation to the natives, who loved him as a kind, considerate master, and felt that for such as he they could willingly die.

The menagerie was still intact, Dana having pleaded for her pets, not caring that they should be turned adrift or destroyed.

The greatest drawback the garrison had to contend with was in the only well of water being in an exposed position; although the supply was in no danger of being cut off at first, yet, should the outposts be captured, water could then only be obtained at great risk to life.

The surplus ammunition was put in wooden boxes, and buried near the house.

Whilst these preparations were in progress Yunacka was looking about everywhere for Harry.

Knowing that Golob had accompanied Harry, Yunacka followed him about; but not being able to speak, could not put any questions to him.

With more intelligence than any one credited him with, he brought some clothes of Harry's, also his rifle, etc., and showed them to Golob, and then by signs made him understand that he wished him to speak about his absent friend.

This led to the wild boy finding Harry eventually.

Custonjee led his men against the garrison.

The force under his command consisted of two guns (nine-pounders), infantry, cavalry, and sappers.

He was an able commander, and did nothing rashly, or in a hurry; nor did he in this case, although his force greatly outnumbered that opposed to him.

He reconnoitred the defences, and saw that they were stronger than he was led to believe.

"Look at the parapet of that house," he said to his lieutenant, handing him a pair of field-glasses, "and tell me what you think of those sandbags."

"It means a battery, major. Ah! I have it; it's the six-pounder they captured from us. We'll have to be cautious how we expose our men to its fire."

"Is there no other position which our guns could take up?" Custonjee asked.

"None; the place is surrounded by stockades and natural barriers, which quite shut it in. I wish that screen of bamboos was down, major."

"So do I. Can't we set it on fire?"

"Not easily: the wood is too green to burn.

"To-night we must entrench ourselves at this spot. No supplies must reach them. We shall also mine their stockades, and harass them in every way. Nothing must be left undone to reduce the place."

"What is to be the fate of the garrison if the place falls into our hands, major?"

"Time enough to talk of that when it does. Give me a back, Lutchman; I mean to get up this tree and reconnoitre. I have an idea our sharpshooters would prove useful up there."

The lieutenant, a slim man, not half the size or weight of the major, heard this request, which amounted to a command, with dismay.

"Did you say you wished me, or one of the men, to give you a mount, sir?" Lutchman asked, as he gazed upon the awful proportions of his chief.

"You!"

"But I can climb like a squirrel," said the lieutenant.

"Indeed; well, you can follow me. But let me tell you, I think you'll be exposed to a sharp fire from the rifles on the housetop. Come, Lutchman, are you ready?"

He was ready, but not at all willing; nor was he to blame for thinking the service exacted from him a weighty one.

Stooping, he allowed Custonjee to mount on his back, supporting himself the while against the trunk of the tree.

A titter ran through the ranks at sight of the inequality of the officers, as regards weight, and at the ridiculous way in which Lutchman bent under his superior, who balanced himself like a dancing bear.

Despite his corpulency, however, he managed to get into the tree and climbed to a respectable height, where he squatted in the fork, and looked through his glasses.

"Waugh!" he cried, from his lofty post. "Wonderful They've made the place very strong."

Fitzmaurice, who was sweeping the open space with his field-glasses, caught sight of something white in the tree.

"What do you make of that white object?" he asked, as he handed the glasses to Clarence.

"It's a human being; but whether a friend or foe I can't determine. Suppose I try the effect of a shot, sir?"

"For Heaven's sake don't!" said Val, grasping Clarence by the arm; "it may be Harry."

"Val is right," said Dana; "it's better to spare an enemy than destroy a friend."

These remarks had the effect of sparing Custonjee, who must have fallen under the unerring rifles of Clarence and his comrades.

"Shall I come up, major?" asked Lutchman.

"No; I've got to come down, though, and how to do it I don't know. If I'm not sharp they'll be firing at me."

The lieutenant enjoyed his superior's predicament, and chuckled inwardly over it, but answered --

"I don't know how you will get down unless we borrow a ladder from the garrison."

"I'll be down presently," thought the old man, as he attempted to descend.

And so he was, for, losing his footing, the fat old man fell atop of his lieutenant, and together they rolled over and over upon the ground.

CHAPTER XXV

The fight now commenced in real earnest, the first shot being fired by the rebels, who threw out skirmishers, and took advantage of every bit of cover, thereby showing that they were well-trained soldiers, as indeed they were.

The six-pounder belched forth flame and destruction, and the rifles and muskets kept up a regular "devil's tattoo," making the place ring again.

Men shouted stern commands which could be heard above the din of battle.

Bugles sounded, and then came the sonorous "bang, bang" of the enemy's cannon, followed by the sharp terrier-like bark of the little field-piece on the roof. Custonjee kept his men well in hand, and exposed them as little as possible.

Fitzmaurice on the housetop kept a look-out on the movements of the enemy, resolved to check any sudden rush on their part, which was more than probable they would try to make.

"Golob," he said, "take half-a-dozen fellows, the best shots you can select, and plant them in the bamboo thicket. They will be under your command."

The fine old fellow saluted, and in less than five minutes the place was occupied in obedience to orders.

Hardly had this movement been executed than a score of sepoys advanced at the double to occupy the thicket.

If Custonjee had only thought of this in time, the garrison could not have prevented him from securing that position.

"Now, men," said Golob sternly, "fire! Be steady, and take good aim."

From the thicket and housetop a deadly fire was opened upon the advancing mutineers, which checked them effectually, with the loss of several killed.

Having forced the survivors to retire, Golob and his party turned their attention to the enemy's artillery, upon which they opened a galling fire.

Custonjee bit his lip with vexation, and resolved to drive these waspish musketeers from their fastness.

His men began to dread serving the guns, so deadly was the fire of Golob and his companions, his own more especially, as every time his rifle sent forth a bullet a man fell.

"The first man who flinches from his duty," said Custonjee sternly, "will, be shot. Drag the guns closer and search the thicket with grape."

Knowing from experience how stern a disciplinarian he was, they did not care to disobey him, although obedience meant certain death for some of their number.

Custonjee attended the guns himself, and was so cool under fire that his men could not, for very shame's sake, do aught else than follow his example.

He laid the first gun himself, and fired it, sending a volley of grape scattering like hail through the thicket.

Golob had told his men to lie down, and to keep close, until the gun had been fired, when they were to commence afresh their work of death in picking off the gunnery.

Such, however, was Custonjee's determination that he would not give up the undertaking, although several of his men were killed, and many more wounded, he himself slightly.

Fitzmaurice perceiving the danger to Golob and his party from the searching artillery fire they were being subjected to, signalled him to retire within the garrison; which he effected with the loss of one man only, whose body was brought in for burial.

This was the first actual death of any of the defenders, and the circumstance had, naturally, a depressing effect.

Meanwhile, Custohjee, unaware of the retreat of the sharpshooters from the thicket, continued to fight his guns, and he was in the act of laying-one, with bare head (it was very bald), his turban having fallen off, when he got a crack on the pate with a wood-apple, which set him dancing with pain.

The gunners came in for their share of these missiles, which are not only large, but when unripe as hard as iron.

The worst of it was, no one could be seen up in the tree to account for the shower which drove the fellows from their guns, a feat which Golob and his men had failed to accomplish with their trusty weapons.

"There he is," said one of the men, at last, on catching sight of a black hairy object up the tree; "it must be the evil one himself."

No sooner had he given his opinion than he received a blow on the forehead from an apple which floored him.

This event was followed by peals of unearthly- laughter, which so terrified the mutineers that, seized with a sudden panic, they bolted, leaving the old major to waddle to a safer spot as best he might.

The cause of this fright was Yunacka, who was making his way back to the garrison.

He was up the tree waiting for an opportunity to get inside the house, when Custonjee and his party came up with their guns, and halted under the tree.

Terrified at first by the sound of the firing, he did not become aggressive, but taking courage at last, he began operations by nearly breaking the old major's head.

If the garrison had only known the guns were deserted they could have made a sortie, and spiked the cannon, but unfortunately they were not aware of what had taken place.

Yunacka, seeing the coast clear, descended, and proceeded to examine the gun with great curiosity, and to play with the port-fires. which were burning slowly in their respective buckets.

"There he is again," shouted one of the sepoys, pointing to the wild boy, who had taken up a port-fire, which he held close to his face, and which gave to it a demoniacal appearance.

"Fire at the thing," said Custonjee; "it's only a monkey. Shoot it. It nearly broke my skull."

Luckily for Yunacka, the men who did fire were so convinced of the uselessness of attempting to shoot a fiend, that they took no aim, and therefore the wild boy escaped.

Seeing him amusing himself with the portfires, a party of monkeys came trooping down, and joined him. They scampered over the guns and tumbrils, prying into all kinds of mysteries, and tasting some loose powder, which, not being to their liking, they spat out, with sundry grimaces and expressions of disgust.

Yunacka ran about with the lighted fire, touching up first one monkey and then another with it, enjoying their screams, as they scampered out of the way. Several of the larger ones, however, made a set upon him. and to escape he jumped upon the powder waggon, port-fire in hand.

Several sparks from it burnt his body so that he threw it away with disgust, and it fell right into the waggon among the powder.

He leapt from the waggon and climbed a tree, chased by the monkeys.

Alarmed for the safety of the guns, Custonjee ordered the artillerymen to withdraw them to safe distance.

They advanced to obey the order, when there was a terrific explosion, the waggon and its contents were hurled into the air, together with a crowd of poor inoffensive monkeys, while the débris wounded several of the advancing mutineers.

Fitzmaurice and his companions thought at first it was an attempt to blow up a portion of the outworks.

Therefore he and the others hastened down to reinforce their comrades in the trenches so as to drive back the invaders, or to die gallantly in the attempt.

Yunacka, on hearing the explosion, tumbled headlong off the highest branch of a gigantic tree, and would have been killed by the fall, if he had not saved himself just in time by catching at a lower bough, to which he clung.

Thinking the rebels were the cause of his fright, he became furious with passion.

Descending, he seized a broken branch and attacked them savagely, uttering loud cries of rage, as he struck out freely, right and left. His fiendish appearance, the contortions of his visage, and the glowing expression of his small eyes, which resembled orbs of fire, so terrified the men that they fled, leaving him again master of the field, which he quickly evacuated, and reached his friends in safety.

It need hardly be stated how pleased every one was to hear of Harry's safety so far.

"Val," said Dana, in a whisper, after hearing the good news.

"Yes, Dana."

"Harry, must be rescued.''

"He must, and shall, even if I perish in the attempt. To me he is more than a brother."

"Keep this resolve to yourself, Val. You and I'll slip out to-night to look for him, that is if we are lucky enough to escape with our lives from the attack, which the enemy now seem inclined to make again."

She was correct, for Custonjee resolved to try conclusions with the defenders, and pushed forward his men again, getting them close to the stockade, while a fatigue party brought up escalading ladders.

The reserve ammunition for the nine-pounders had also been brought up to the front, and he was in a position to again commence the assault.

There was a regular artillery duel between the enemy's field-pieces and the solitary six-pounder, which latter did good service.

This, however, was only a ruse on the part of Custonjee, to mask his real intention of gaining the place by escalade, and to give him time to carry out his plans, which, to do him justice, were well conceived.

The parapet of the house was a good deal knocked about and the sand bags displaced, but, luckily, no one was hurt, although the plucky defenders had several narrow escapes.

Golob, who was visiting the sentries, had his attention called by one of them to a party of mutineers, carrying ladders.

Golob ran back to Fitzmaurice, and told him of the circumstance.

"This must be seen to, Golob," he remarked. "'Tis evident they mean business this time. We must leave the housetop now, and defend our position from below, Heaven grant us success."

Every post was strengthened, and the picquets had orders to retire on the entrenchments, firing as they retreated, if the mutineers succeeded in forcing the outer defences.

Each man had an extra supply of ammunition served out to him, and was further exhorted to make a desperate resistance, inasmuch as defeat meant torture or death.

CHAPTER XXVI

Exactly at one o'clock the picquets commenced to be driven in by the enemy who had gained the outer defences by escalade.

"Steady, men," said Fitzmaurice in Hindostanee. "Remember you fight under cover; take aim, and don't forget to use the bayonet when the proper time arrives."

Before leaving the housetop, Clarence had loaded the six-pounder with grape, and had laid the gun to sweep that part of the position the mutineers would be bound to approach, ere they could attack the entrenchments.

He obtained permission to remain to fire that gun himself.

Val and Dana were told off to fire the cannon, which defended the entrance.

Yunacka was here, there and every where, it being found impossible to restrict him to one spot.

Such was the state of affairs at the time when the attack commenced in real earnest.

Nothing could be better than the way in which this was managed.

Before actually attacking the entrenchments the rebels halted and commenced to fire from behind any cover they could find.

Acting on Fitzmaurice's advice, his men did not return the fire, but kept well under cover, waiting until he gave them the word.

He stood erect in the trenches, looking at the movements of the rebels through his glasses, apparently bearing a charmed life, for the bullets flew harmlessly past him.

What he wanted was to get the wretches within range of the six-pounder, when great execution might be looked for.

Suddenly both field-pieces belonging to the enemy fired simultaneously, and several were sent up.

"Look out, Dana," said Val, clutching his port-fire; "that's a signal. They're coming."

Val was right -- it was a signal, for with cheers the enemy came on from both sides, fully determined to carry the place by assault.

A score or more dusky forms rushed to the entrance, and opened fire on the gunners as they stood by the guns, port-fire in hand.

"Number one -- fire!" shouted Fitzmaurice, in clarion tones.

Bang! went Val's gun, and the score or more of rebels were reduced by about two-thirds.

This was followed by the sharp report of the six-pounder from the housetop, when a shower of grape swept among the mutineers with fatal effect, scattering death and dismay around.

Shrieks and cries of agony mingled with the sounds of musketry and the boom of cannon; the work of death went on bravely, as did that of resistance.

"Number two -- fire!" shouted Clarence, who had rejoined the defenders in the trenches.

Dana's port-fire did its work.

Yunacka's face was a study as this work went on, men being hurled into eternity as ruthlessly as if they were so much vermin.

He fired off his musket and then not caring to reload, waited till the man nearest him was ready to fire, and then snatching his musket from him, picked off his assailant.

To do the sepoys justice they fought bravely for a time, some of them actually leaping into the trenches, only to be shot down or bayoneted by resolute men, who knew how to defend themselves.

It was impossible to reload the cannon, which were quite exposed, without risking the lives of every one engaged in the service.

They had done their work, however, for small heaps of dead lay about, and the cries of the wounded were grievous to hear.

Dana was as steady as a rock, with Val and Clarence at her side ready to sell their lives dearly for her.

A gigantic sepoy, with the sergeant's chevrons on his arms, animated his comrades to the attack.

They made a rush towards the spot where Dana and her comrades stood, charging with fixed bayonets, and firing as they came on, without taking aim.

It was a sight sufficient to try the nerves of a strong man, much less those of a girl of Dana's age, who ought really to have been at school, instead of facing death in this heroic way.

Her cheeks did not blanch as she singled out the giant and fired.

Unluckily she missed him.

Quietly appropriating Val's revolver, which lay close at hand, she fired just as the sergeant was within a yard of her.

The shot struck his arm, and he dropped his musket as if it were too heavy for him.

This so excited her that she jumped out of the trench and shouted "Charge!" much to Clarence and Val's surprise, who were altogether unprepared for such a move on her part.

However; nothing remained for them but to support her, even though she was acting madly in leaving the comparatively safe shelter of the trenches.

Fitzmaurice caught sight of Dana from where he stood and immediately saw her danger.

He rushed forward, just as Val and Clarence leaped out of the trench.

Like a plucky little heroine that she was, Dana thought not of the danger, now that she was in the thick of it.

She saw only wild beasts before her; things that were to be destroyed; not human beings with loving hearts, to be treated as her fellows.

The gigantic sergeant seeing her defenceless, as he thought, seized her, but not before she had wounded him again.

Squeezed in his strong arms, she struggled helplessly, and then became insensible.

"Defend my retreat," the fellow shouted hoarsely to his comrades, as he bore her away, right before the very rifles of those who would have given life itself for her.

Dana was torn away, leaving Clarence mad with rage, and Val furious, and her father calm and silent, but with a sharp pain at his heart.

A pistol in one hand, a sword in the other, Fitzmaurice threw himself against the human bulwark that stood between him and his darling child.

The bright blade flashed, and each time it descended dripped with human blood.

Val and Clarence, too, were stabbing and thrusting with their bayonets, silently and vengefully; with clenched teeth and bursting hearts; never a word spake they, as they followed up their foes silently, ruthlessly.

They were joined by Golob and a number of others, when a desperate hand-to-hand combat ensued, but in vain; they were compelled to retreat step by step.

"Val -- Clarence; to the housetop!" shouted Fitzmaurice hoarsely. "The six-pounder -- grape -- vengeance -- Dana!"

With face begrimed by powder and gory hands, he issued his commands for vengeance.

The pair sprang up the stairs and reached the roof.

Clarence rammed home with a will, while Val covered the vent with his thumb, already blistered with the heat of the iron.

A heaving mass is outside the entrenchments; Custonjee is bringing up reserves of men.

But the way is blocked by that man whose avenging sword descends with such unerring effect.

Fitzmaurice's little band of heroes fought bravely and well, and when the last man of the enemy was driven, out to die beyond the threshold with a bayonet stab in his very vitals, a ringing cheer of victory went up to heaven.

The pitiless hail of iron from the roof went crashing like a mighty wind through that mass, rending and tearing, and casting down in its awful fury.

It struck the hard ground, too, and rebounded, striking down wretches on all sides.

On this side of the defences the battle is won; how goes it on the other?

Bravely, too.

No craven heart or weak hand defends the pass; no traitor will sell the right of way for gold.

No; he that would pass that way must do, so at his peril -- must meet heroes in a death struggle, and prove himself a better man than they.

Mutineers, mad with "bang" (a drink made from rapeseed, which maddens to fury) rushed on the bayonets' point, and leaped into the trench, only to die.

But their soberer comrades shrank from following their example.

Presently, an odd sound mingles with the din of battle.

A tigress was at large.

Maddened by the noises, the animal had burst her cage door open, and was hastening to the scene of strife.

How she licked her lips and glared at the prospect of the feast which she meant to indulge in.

Little recked the mutineers, as they fired from behind bush or tree, that a tigres[s] had come to take a part in the battle.

With a roar and a bound she was upon an unfortunate wretch who was in the act of firing.

He would never draw trigger again or bite a cartridge.

In a moment he lies bitten through the neck, dead, while that savage tigress drinks his warm blood, and growls over the draught.

Yet another victim falls before her, and then the mutineers realise this new danger for the first time.

They took to flight, but not to a place of safety.

They had climbed over a stockade by the help of a ladder.

How were they to get back without its aid?

They were in a trap.

"Let me mount on your shoulders," said a man to his comrade, who dearly loved him. "If I get over, I can push the ladder up, and then you will all be saved. Quick! let me mount on your back."

"Promise faithfully, Hassan, that you will not desert us. Do you promise?"

"Yes, faithfully, solemnly."

Hassan was soon at the top, and, trembling with joy, dropped down on the other side.

Would Hassan be true to his friend, to his comrades, and help to save them? Why should he concern himself about them?

"Hassan, your promise," said the voice of his friend, from the other side.

"I cannot move the ladder by myself," he said. "Send me help."

He well knew that inside that trap would be found no one willing to let his comrade pass out through any help of his.

"Here," said Hassan's friend to a comrade, "there is a way of escape for us all."

"How -- where?"

"Stoop, and let me mount your back."

"Not I. Do you take me for a fool? I am younger than you, and want to live."

"There are ladders at the other side."

"I will fetch them then. Help me."

High words then ensued, epithets were hurled at each other, and from words they came to blows.

In a few minutes they lay glaring at each other, fatally wounded, while Hassan, poltroon that he was, stood by the ladder, and could have saved them both.

But Nemesis was at his side.

Coiled up in some long grass was a huge cobra.

"I cannot raise the ladder," he cried.

His friend heard his voice, and with his dying breath murmured --

"Traitor, I curse you."

Hassan stepped aside, and in doing so, trod on the cobra, whose poisonous fangs were instantly fixed in his flesh.

The wretched man looked down at the reptile with terror-laden eyes.

Too well did he realise the doom which was in store for him.

The stupor of fear passed away, and he looked wildly around for help.

None could aid him.

He would run to camp. Perhaps some one there knew of an antidote for a snake bite.

People had been saved; why not he?

Taking to his heels, he ran with the energy of despair.

His feet seemed wings, so fast did he run.

He was soon in the camp; his comrades were there.

Was that an angel in their midst, that beautiful girl?

This was Dana, a captive in the midst of a rude soldiery, suffering under a severe defeat.

Custonjee was there, the calmest and most collected of all, weighing well in his mind what the result of Dana's capture would be.

Even now the ruffians were debating among themselves as to how they should dispose of their prisoner, without reference to Custonjee's wishes in the matter.

Hassan, in his terror and delirium, pushing his way to her side, threw himself before her, crying, with uplifted hands --

"Save me; I am dying. A cobra has bitten me."

One look at the poor wretch's pallid face, on which the clammy dews of death were gathering, proved the truth of his assertion.

"Heaven alone can save you," she replied. "I can only try. I know of a herb that is an antidote. Let me find it."

"Stand aside, and let the girl pass," said Custonjee. "If she can save Hassan, let her. Do you hear there, you fellows? Stand aside."

He drew his revolver.

The trigger clicked ominously.

The fellows looked at each other.

But no one cared to stop the girl, especially as it involved receiving a bullet through the brain.

Custonjee was notorious for keeping his word.

They fell back and gathered in small groups to mutter threats with scowling faces.

As soon as Dana was free, she searched among the grass for the herb she wanted, and having found it, made it into a poultice, and placed it on the wound.

She also made Hassan drink half-a-pint of "darrhu" (country whisky), and then, ordering him to be wrapped in several blankets, told him to go to sleep, which he was not long in doing, for one characteristic of a snake-bite is to induce drowsiness, ending in a comatose state, then death.

Meanwhile the fight had ended, the garrison being victorious, whilst inflicting heavy losses on the enemy, whose dead lay thick in places.

On Fitzmaurice's side three men only were killed, but the list of wounded was larger.

Val, Clarence, and Fitzmaurice were each wounded, but only slightly, which luckily did not necessitate their laying up.

Golob was untouched, although he had exposed himself throughout the brilliant affair.

But a sadness sat on each face, in spite of their glorious victory.

Did they mourn the brave fellows who lay taking their last sleep?

No; they died like heroes, with arms in their hands, their faces to the foe, and were to be envied, not mourned.

Dana, the light, the sun, of the jungle home, was a prisoner in the hands of ruffians who knew no mercy or pity.

They cared not to look at the poor father's face, it was so full of silent anguish.

Val sat moodily aside, his head buried in his hands.

"Sir," said Golob, addressing Fitzmaurice, "a number of the enemy are still in our grounds. What are we to do?"

"Kill every one. Come, let us slay them," said Val, looking up, with hatred depicted on his usually good-natured face.

"Peace, lad," said Fitzmaurice sadly; "let us teach the rebels a lesson of humanity. No man shall be butchered in cold blood."

"Exchange them for Dana, then," said Val, unabashed by the rebuke.

"Good; Val Sahib, speaks well," said Golob, with an approving nod.

"Yes," said Clarence, "we can send a flag of truce. I'll make one of the party."

"And I another," said Val.

"Golob too," put in the huntsman.

"I give the matter into your hands entirely," said Fitzmaurice, with a weary sigh; "do as you like. Heaven send that I be not bereaved of both my children."

Clarence and Val looked at each other significantly, as much as to imply that grief had begun to turn their chief's brain.

The task of making prisoners of the fellows who were in the trap they had made for themselves was an easy matter.

In fact they could hardly believe that their lives were to be spared, they themselves were so cruel and implacable.

Lutchman, Custonjee's lieutenant, was amongst the prisoners, all of whom were disarmed and placed under guard.

The great difficulty now was in disposing of the enemy's dead.

The natives belonging to the garrison did not care about touching them, and it was impossible that Val or Clarence could dig a trench large enough to hold the corpses.

"Set the prisoners to work," Clarence suggested; "it will never do to allow the bodies to remain where they fell. We shall have an epidemic if we do."

Lutchman could not object when the matter was mentioned to him, although it was plain he did not like the suggestion.

His men were put to work to dig a trench outside the position, and when it was finished the dead wore placed in it, and the earth closed over them for ever.

The garrison's dead were interred in the ground, under the shade of a tamarind tree, a mark being placed over the grave.

The wounded were the next care, and here Fitzmaurice and his comrades were sadly at fault, inasmuch as there were cases necessitating amputation, which none could deal with.

The simpler cases were put right, and then Golob, Clarence and Val started with a flag of truce.

Among the dead was a bugler, whose instrument Val took, as he had learnt all the calls by heart.

When they had come in sight of the enemy's sentries Val placed the bugle to his lips and blew three sharp blasts.

It was an anxious time for the little party; they might be fired on treacherously.

CHAPTER XXVII

The brave fellows who had gone forth under a flag of truce, carried their lives in their hands, for they had to deal with miscreants, and not honourable men who acknowledged the rules of civilised warfare.

Yunacka, who had followed them unperceived, now dropped from a tree and joined them, looking well pleased.

Another unexpected visitor also appeared in the shape of Azraal, the cheetah, which had hitherto, or at least since the commencement of hostilities, been confined to the bungalow, to keep it out of harm's way.

It had got out by some means, and, not finding its mistress, followed her by scent, and came up with the party just about the same time as the wild boy.

The pair knew each other thoroughly, and immediately fraternised, commencing a game of romps with great animation.

Meanwhile the sentry had shouted for the officer in charge of the guard, as no one had appeared in answer to the bugle call sounded by Val.

"Try again," said Clarence to him. "I don't like the look of things at all."

Val blew another call, when Custonjee and a few of his men came forward to see what was the matter.

He understood what the white flag meant; and told his people that the little party was not to be molested, but were to be escorted to the camp, which was done.

A queerer procession could hardly have been seen than the one which now filed along, Golob leading, and Yunacka mounted on the cheetah's back bringing up the rear.

The mutineers turned out en masse to see the strange sight, and were not complimentary in their remarks.

The losses they had sustained made them feel spiteful, and they longed to imbrue their hands in the blood of the unarmed persons, who had, under the protection of a white flag, placed themselves in their power.

Dana's eyes glistened with delight at sight of her friends, who were no less pleased that she was safe and apparently unhurt.

No communication was allowed between them, however; but Azraal and Yunacka knew no restraint, nor did they think of asking anybody's permission to show Dana how much they loved her.

It was a touching sight to see the cheetah on its hind legs, and with its paws round the girl's neck, while Yunacka waited impatiently for her to notice him, going so far as to try to push the cheetah away.

Custonjee, as commander of the rebel forces, carried on the conversation in English, which he understood thoroughly, it being his wish, as he did not want his men, who stood listening, to understand the nature of the negotiations.

"You can have your lieutenant and all your men who are our prisoners back again in exchange for Dana and Harry Coverdale," said Clarence. "That is a fair offer enough, and we will benefit by it more than you. "The girl is here, as you see, but the lad made his escape. I don't know where he is. I wish I did."

"Major," said Val, "will you swear by the sacred water of the Ganges that my dear friend, Harry, is alive?"

"I wish I could, Val Sahib. All I know is that he was not injured by us. I do not wish him to fall into our hands again. He killed one of my men before he went off."

"Understand one thing, major," said Clarence, "and don't think it a mere threat. If Dana or Master Harry is put to death every man of yours dies. We will treat them well, unless you force us to proceed to extremities."

"Can't you permit us to speak with Dana?" asked Val. "She can't escape, you well know."

"I see no objection. You can talk to her, Val Sahib, but your comrades had better not take part in the interview. The temper of my men is so uncertain, and none of you are armed."

Val, glad of the permission, walked to where Dana stood.

"Is my father well?" she asked, in a voice which was husky with emotion.

"Yes; he sends his love, Dana, and hopes to see you soon. We have come to negotiate an exchange of prisoners. Custonjee is willing."

"But he is powerless if his men object, Val, the danger to me is greater than you imagine. I shudder to think of what may befall me."

"Cheer up; all will be well; see, here is a parcel. Have you heard anything of Harry?"

"Not a word. The major is his friend, I think, and mine also; my whole dependence is on him and Heaven."

"If you see any chance, make your escape," whispered Val. "You will find a revolver and ammunition in that parcel, and some other little comforts."

She could not help smiling although her heart was sad, for, as she herself had said, her danger was imminent.

"I'll be knocking about all night," he continued, "as will Clarence also, looking out for you. Custonjee, perhaps, will wink at your escape. Will you try?"

"Will I not?" she replied.

The major motioned to Val to return to his friends, which he did after taking a tender farewell of Dana, in whose lovely eyes the tears stood, but were forced back, as she did not care to show weakness before her captors.

Val and his comrades had to leave without anything definite having been settled, all they could get out of Custonjee being that he would lay the matter before a council and let them know under cover of a flag of truce.

Again and again did the trio look back at Dana, who waved her handkerchief, while they remained in sight.

Meanwhile Yunacka and the cheetah, having been fondled by Dana, had a romping match together, which led them into the jungle, far away from the camp.

Tired out at last, they lay down together under the shade of a banian tree.

It was a strange picture this -- a being, in name at least, and a wild beast lying down together in loving amity.

The bright sun tinged the green leaves, and penetrated into the darkest recesses of this primeval forest and tangle of nature, where for centuries tigers, leopards, hyenas, snakes, and other uncanny creatures, had roamed masters of these domains.

A colony of large black ants were out foraging, and finding Yunacka's body blocking the way, began to nip certain parts of it unmercifully.

Rising in a rage, he began to scream and dance about wildly, much to the discomfort of Azraal, who was indulging in a comfortable nap, which the wild boy disturbed.

At this moment a human being appeared in view, clad in vestments that had once been white, but were now dirty and torn through travel.

A cork helmet adorned his head, his hair and beard were unkempt, his face blistered with the sun, and his shoes much the worse for wear.

"Holy Mother!" he exclaimed, in an unmistakable Hibernian accent, "what's before me, I wonder? Is that a monkey or the divil himself? And it's a cheetah he's after having with him. I'm in the divil and all of a fix now anyhow, and sorra a bit of a pistol have I with me to defind myself. Whatever am I to do?"

The cheetah, thinking Yunacka was up for a lark, growled, and raced round him, giving him a pat with his forepaw occasionally, much to the boy's annoyance, as he was in no humour for romping, having quite enough to do in getting rid of the ants.

Catching sight of the man, Azraal stopped short in its gambols, and began to growl angrily.

"Ay, swear away before 'ye kill me," said the individual. "It's tough ating you'll be after finding me though. It's skin and bone I am for the want of a good meal, altho' my appetite is foine and healthy."

Yunacka perceived him now, and seemed rather pleased than otherwise.

With a shrill scream of welcome, construed into one of menace by the individual before him the wild boy rushed forward.

"It's time I was off." said the uncouth-looking fellow, "or it's murdered alive I'll be presently."

Taking to his heels, he ran at the top of his speed, pursued by the cheetah and Yunacka, the former of whom soon overtook and knocked him down, then stood over him growling viciously.

"Sorra a bit of mate you'll find on my bones, you baste!" he said, "and I hope you'll be choked ating me."

Yunacka came up, and seated himself close beside the stranger, who gazed at him with dismay.

Perceiving the lad's friendly attitude, Azraal allowed the man to rise, which he did, then seated himself cross-legged like a tailor.

The trio formed a queer-looking group, as they sat and looked at each other with a serio-comic expression, as if wondering which would be the first to make a demonstration.

The stranger was an army doctor, by name Terence O'Shaughnessy, who had joined his regiment a few months before it had mutinied.

He had escaped massacre, and was wandering about in the jungle in search of an asylum.

He was almost starved, and was quite footsore, while his bones ached from the hardness of his bed each night -- the ground.

He burst out laughing at last, at sound of which the cheetah howled lugubriously, and Yunacka laughed too in a guttural way, as if the exertion were choking him.

"Do you spake the bat?" (native language) asked the doctor, looking at Yunacka; "because if you do, I don't; or maybe you can discourse in English?"

Yunacka grinned, showing a formidable set of teeth and a capacious mouth, which elicited the following remark from the doctor --

"Bedad, you've the finest set of teeth I've ivir seen on a bhoy, and your mouth makes ating easy. Let's shake hands, ma bouchal. Who knows but that maybe you'll be after taking me to your home, and introducing me to your wife and family, and something to ate as well?"

He offered his hand to Yunacka, who, nothing loth, took and gripped it as tight as a vice.

The doctor yelled and capered about in the iron grasp of the wild boy, who followed his movements, imitating him so grotesquely that the pair appeared to be dancing a Highland fling, accompanied with awful yells which awoke the echoes far and near.

Thinking this was a carnival of fun, Azraal raced round and round the pair, jumping upon them occasionally, but so lightly as not to destroy their equilibrium.

How the matter would have ended 'tis hard to say -- O'Shaughnessy was getting weaker and weaker -- if Val and his companions had not heard loud outcries and hastened to the spot.

Yunacka released the unfortunate now, who had never been shaken hands with so warmly in his life before.

"Dun't ask me to shake hands again," he groaned. "Iviry bone in my unfortunate fist is crushed."

"Who are you, sir?" asked Clarence.

"And what the divil is that to you, sir?" answered the irate doctor. "Can you give me something to ate? Tell me that."

"Yes; and a good bed, too," said Clarence. "I meant no offence. We are besieged in the house of a friend. It's a fortunate thing you fell in with us first, and not with the mutineers."

"Is it fighting, yez are?"

"Yes, for our very lives."

"There's my hand. I'm death on a row, and I can not only make a big hole in a fellow but can patch it up afterwards."

The offering his hand, however, was only figurative, as he had a lively recollection of what had happened to him so recently.

"You're a doctor, then, I presume," said Val.

"True for you. Is it any offince, youngster?"

"Just the reverse, sir," said Val, laughing. "We've got plenty of provisions, ammunition, and arms, but no doctor. Mr. Fitzmaurice will be pleased. Suppose we make for home at once?"

"With all my heart. I'm doosid hungry. Haven't had a square male for days, and have walked ivir so far, without seeing a sowl that I could spake to."

The party walked to the entrenchments, where they were met by the commander, whose face fell on not seeing his darling child among them.

"Cheer up, sir," said Clarence, laying his hand on his arm. "Your daughter is quite well and safe."

"For how long?" the father asked huskily.

"Major Custonjee is her friend, and will do everything in his power for her, He will let us know soon."

"And Harry -- what of him?"

"We did not see him, sir."

"Great Heavens, let not my punishment be heavier than I can bear! Bereaved of both -- oh, cruel, cruel fate!"

He smote his forehead, and spoke in broken tones, which indicated how deep was his grief, how lacerated his feelings.

Both Clarence and Val looked at each other in surprise.

This was the second time he had referred to Harry in this special way.

There was no time, however, for solving mysteries, and they made no comment, therefore, although they thought the more.

O'Shaughnessy was introduced to and cordially welcomed by the chief, who said --

"Believe me, dear sir, no luckier event could have happened us, than your coming. Your services are greatly needed."

"It's mighty kind of you to spake like that, colonel, or maybe, it's a gineral you are. But I wouldn't attend on the Queen of Sheba until I've had something to ate," said the hungry Irishman; "then I'll take off arms and legs in a jiffy, and be only too pleased."

Of course his wants were speedily attended to.

It would be unfair to say how much he ate.

Such an appetite as his in a garrison not overstocked with food was a calamity.

He came forth looking quite a different man, quite the gentleman, in fact, both in dress and appearance.

CHAPTER XXVIII

When Harry Coverdale ran forward towards the light he had no idea where he was going to; it might be some will-o'-the-wisp deluding him, or a group of fireflies.

He did not cease running until he arrived at the spot, which he found was the entrance to a cave, in which there reigned a stillness that was startling in its intensity.

Peeping in with extreme caution, he saw a human figure sitting in a rigid posture, looking as if it had been turned into stone by some malignant magician.

Harry recognised in him the fakir he had seen in the jungle, and boldly entered the cave.

But the holy man did not stir.

His eyes were fixed on vacancy, and his whole frame was as stiff as if cast in metal.

In one corner sat the ape, the one Yunacka had had the desperate battle with; in the other the jackal, and other animals all in a state of repose.

A grinning skull and an hourglass stood in a niche -- emblems of mortality and of the flight of time.

Harry could stand the silence of the place no longer, so he shook the fakir roughly, and told him in Hindostanee that he had lost his way.

The man returned to consciousness with a start.

A deadly pallor o'erspread his face to an extent that alarmed Harry.

He gasped for breath, and was seized with such strong convulsions that Harry thought he would never come safely out of them.

He did so, however, at last, and on his seeing the lad he salaamed (saluted), bidding him welcome to the cave, and adding --

"I expected you. Be seated."

Harry spoke to him of the fighting that was going on, and of his fears that the garrison had been overcome and massacred.

"Such matters concern me not," he replied. "Peace is for me, war for the people of the world. Come, let us go forth and discover the fate of your friends."

Harry begged hard to be excused, as his presentiments were of so gloomy a character that he feared to take any steps to verify them.

The fakir went forth accompanied by his bodyguard, without whom he hardly ever stirred abroad, but not before he had warned Harry not to explore the cave at the back.

But after awhile the youth felt sorry he had not gone with the fakir, for he felt an awe of the spot on account of its associations.

A human being dwelt here in mysterious solitude, communing with his own thoughts, or with the mighty spirits of nature, contented and happy to lay on the hard ground, to satisfy his hunger with fruit or dried roots, and to slake his thirst at the nearest rivulet.

The small oil-lamp burned fitfully, and threw weird shadows around, which, to the boy's excited imagination, appeared like giant phantoms floating about the strange abode of a still stranger man.

Harry was on the point of rushing from the cave, which he thought haunted, when he remembered the warning of the fakir.

Human nature is very obstinate.

"Why the dickens should I care for what he said?" muttered the lad. "I don't feel so scared now. Who knows, perhaps I may find a place of concealment for the garrison if the rebels take the house by storm."

He took up the lamp, and advanced cautiously towards an opening that led to an inner cave, so far as he could ascertain just then.

Would he go through?

If so, what would he see or meet there?

These were questions which occurred to him, as he stood irresolute for the moment.

"Here goes," he said at last; "it's a man or a mouse with me. What is there to be afraid of?"

This question he answered by walking through, his heart palpitating, not quite with fear, but expectation.

"There's nothing to be afraid of after all," he said aloud ; "it's only a cave like the other one. I'll go to the end of it."

He had taken a few steps when a loud hiss proclaimed the presence of a snake or serpent.

"There it is," he said to himself, as he caught sight of an immense head, which could only have belonged to a boa-constrictor.

For a moment he stood rooted to the spot; then, dropping the lamp, he fled through the opening, and eventually reached the open air, when he fell insensible.

When he returned to consciousness it took him some time to collect his thoughts.

Leaning against a tree, he tried to peer through the darkness, and espied something that struck him as having a vague resemblance to a human being.

He stood perfectly motionless, hardly daring to breathe.

Who could it be? Perhaps one of the unfortunate garrison that had escaped the general massacre.

He was about to call out softly when prudence came to his aid, and kept him silent.

It was just as likely to be an enemy as not.

Nearer and nearer the figure came, straight towards the tree, gliding like a black phantom.

"Who's there?" it asked huskily.

"A friend. Who are you?"

"Val!"

"Harry!"

They were in each other's arms the next moment, overcome with joy.

"What of Dana?" Harry almost gasped.

"She lives," was the reply.

Val said this in such a tone as to lend Harry to believe that something else remained to be told.

"But is she well, Val?"

"Yes; but unfortunately she has been taken prisoner, and I'm on the prowl, hoping to fall across her if she manages to escape."

"I'm with you, Val, heart and soul. Why not attempt to penetrate to the camp, and help her to escape? It would be cowardly to let her remain there, exposed to insult perhaps infamy. Val, you are not the fellow I take you for if you allow Dana to remain there a moment longer than we can help it. Come, we can only die once; let it be for her dear sake, if Heaven so wills it."

These words came out quickly, so full was the lad's heart, so strong his determination to risk everything for Dana's sake.

"Harry," said Val, "did you ever know me to refuse to follow where you led, whether for good or evil? And tell me if I want urging to help Dana?"

Harry pressed his hand warmly, and whispered --

"Forward, Val -- Dana or Death!"

They were moving cautiously along, keeping a good look-out for the rebel sentries, and conversing in whispers, when a rustling overhead in a tree brought them to a sudden halt.

CHAPTER XXIX

CHAPTER XXX

CHAPTER XXXI

CHAPTER XXXII

CHAPTER XXXIII

Harry followed every movement of his friend with anxiety; but he became more reassured as the contest progressed, and he witnessed the skill with which Hassan met the onslaught of so fine a swordsman as Goroob proved himself.

"It's very good, your friend is excellent," said Zoola, puffing the smoke through her pretty lips. "That fellow isn't bad though, is he?"

Blow followed blow in quick succession, the steel glinted and shimmered in the sunshine, as the swords rose and fell in wavelets of light.

Hassan draws first blood, a mere scratch, but still the first.

This enrages Goroob, who was certain of victory, and meant to play with Hassan, as a cat does with a mouse before killing him.

What is that which moves on that bough, just above the heads of the combatants? that creature with small eyes, which seem to dart fire, and a tongue that works in and out.

It is a large boa-constrictor, but no one sees it as yet, nor dreams of the danger which menaces them.

Zoola smokes on placidly, although at any moment either of the combatants may fall dead, pierced to the heart, at her very feet, while those small, venomous eyes look, down upon them.

A loud hiss, Hassan's sword point drops; he sees the serpent; horror is depicted on his face.

A glitter, deadly and revengeful, is in Goroob's eyes.

His enemy is at his mercy now, he raises his sword to strike; down swift as a lightning flash comes a dark object.

His arm is pinioned, gripped in a fleshy vice, and falls powerless to his side.

He turns angrily to curse the man that has dared to interfere, when he sees who his enemy is, and feels the folds of the enormous serpent coiling round him.

The look of horror on his countenance is not easily forgotten.

The princess, however, is not alarmed; she sits and smokes, and actually laughs at the unexpected denouement.

CHAPTER XXXIV

Goroob was being pressed in the folds of the serpent without a hand being raised to save him.

Horror had seized upon all present, with but two exceptions -- Harry and Zoola.

Hassan remembered his narrow escape from death, through the bite of a cobra, and was thrown into a state of convulsive terror by the monster now before him.

Harry rose, and cocking a pistol, was in the act of advancing towards the boa-constrictor, when Zoola held him back, saying --

"Sit still, I want to see what the great snake will do with him; it saves us a lot of trouble with the fellow, it's a very novel sight. Sit down!"

"Can there be no pity in that young heart?" thought Harry, as he listened to these seemingly cruel words.

He had no time, however, for indulging in such reflections.

Goroob, though no friend of his, was a human being, in danger of death of the most horrible description.

To be crushed, every bone broken, was something awful to contemplate.

Disengaging himself from Zoola's detaining hand, he presented the revolver at the serpent's head and fired in rapid succession.

In his agony of fear and pain, Goroob had clutched with his left, hand at an overhanging bough, and supported himself by it, swaying to and fro under the awful pressure put upon him by those fleshy coils.

His face was purple, and his eyes started out of their sockets, giving a horrible expression to his features.

Harry's shots took immediate effect on the monster.

It unwound its coils from about its victim, and stretched itself out dead.

Goroob clutched the bough tenaciously for a few moments, and then fell senseless.

"Are you satisfied?" asked Zoola of Hassan.

"Yes more than satisfied," was the hasty reply. "I think it's high time my friend and myself pushed on to Delhi."

"You'll wait for me surely -- at least, I know you will, one of you especially."

She meant Harry; he was in her power, and could not afford to be independent; not that she wished, or intended to betray him, but she could not bear to be thwarted.

In such moods she was dangerous.

She ordered her bearers to take up the palanquin, and resume the journey.

Goroob had been left to his fate reluctantly by Harry, who could not bear to see any one deserted.

But there was no help for it, and the giant, still breathing, lay on the greensward.

Zoola made the bearers accommodate their pace to Harry's and requested him to walk by her side.

"You would do well to join my father in the field, you and your friend Hassan," she observed.

"Impossible," said Harry. "I must reach Delhi. The lives of very many depend upon despatch."

"One would think there was some one among them you loved dearly," said Zoola in a bantering tone.

"So there are, several; one more particularly though."

"Indeed; male or female?"

And she eyed him curiously as she asked the question.

Harry unhesitatingly said.

"She's a girl, Dana by name, and as beautiful as a goddess, and as brave as a lion."

"Am I beautiful, Harry?" she asked.

The question was so abruptly, and withal so artlessly put, that he hardly knew how to answer.

It was an easy matter to answer, however, for Zoola was indeed beautiful, and what's more, knew it.

"You don't answer me," she remarked, with a pout.

"You are beautiful indeed, Zoola, very beautiful," he said.

"And am I brave?"

"How can I say? I suppose you are."

Yunacka, who, during the duel had taken himself off into the jungle, now came up, and was welcomed by Zoola with terms of endearment.

Harry could see that the girl before him was of a very jealous temper.

His allusion to Dana had offended her pride, and quite piqued her vanity.

"Will you give me this monkey?" she asked.

"It is not a monkey, Zoola, neither is it mine to give."

She had never been used to refusals; her merest whim had always been gratified.

Here was an English boy praising a girl, before her very face, calling her beautiful and brave.

Offence number one this.

She asked for this strange-looking being, and met with an indirect refusal.

Offence number two, as ill-luck would have it.

Even Yunacka's tricks could not restore her good humour for a while; but she conquered herself at last, and was "Merry Zoola" again.

Another halt was called, during which she fed Yunacka with cakes and sweetmeats, and made him smoke the hookah (Indian pipe).

She went into fits of laughter over his grotesque actions, and had quite made up her mind to retain possession of such an amusing pet.

They had not proceeded very far before they fell in with a cavalry escort, which had been sent in search of her.

While she was conversing with the officer in command, Harry and Hassan slipped quietly away, followed by Yunacka.

But on discovering this, Zoola had them pursued and brought back.

"You did not even say 'good-bye,'" she remarked, with a meaning smile, to Harry. "What's your hurry? A short halt at my father's castle won't hurt you and your friend, surely."

"Our business is pressing, your highness," remarked Hassan.

"My pleasure ranks first," she said haughtily. "My father's daughter never requests where she has a right to demand."

Yunacka was the most unconcerned of the trio.

He was delighted with the horses and their gay trappings.

The wild uncouth creature soon became a great favourite with these dashing cavaliers.

The officer's horse, a splendid animal, was grazing, with the reins loose upon its neck.

Yunacka sprang upon its back, and played with the reins, teasing the animal so, that it started off at full speed, with the wild boy standing on the saddle like a circus rider, and evidently enjoying the novel situation in which he found himself.

Both horse and rider were soon out of sight, to the no small chagrin of the officer, as well as to the annoyance of Zoola.

Harry and Hassan could plainly perceive that they were nothing better than prisoners now, however much Zoola might try to disguise the truth from them.

They were powerless, however, and had to submit to the inevitable, not that they were treated harshly or disco[u]rteously.

The march commenced, and great secrecy and quiet were observed on reaching the vicinity of the high road, the reason of which Harry did not discover till afterwards.

The English reinforcements were on their way down from the Punjaub and other stations, and would march along the main road to their destination.

"It was unfortunate our meeting with her," said Harry. "We shall never reach Delhi at this rate."

"I mean to try to escape," replied Hassan. "Our friends want help, and I'll get it for them, or die in the attempt."

"I'm with you," said Harry, "I wonder where Yunacka is?"

"Here's the horse," said Hassan, pointing to the animal, which came galloping towards his companions. "I see an opportunity now. Delhi or death!"

Running forward, as if to recover the horse, Hassan vaulted on to its back, and was soon galloping towards the high road at a terrific pace.

"Bravo, Hassan!" murmured Harry, as he saw the brave fellow's manœuvre successfully carried out. "Thank Heaven, he is free! I will escape, too, the first chance I get."

CHAPTER XXXV

Zoola's house was reached in due course, and Harry was shown to a room, which she ordered should be set apart for his use.

To his great joy he now heard that Yunacka was in the castle, the horse having brought him there, and then galloped off again, before anybody could seize it.

The wild creature had fought bravely against the attempts made to capture him, but was overpowered at last, and placed in a cage which had once been occupied by a tiger.

He was in an awful rage at being cramped up in such a small crib, and shook the bars with all his might.

Harry soon pacified him, and obtained his release, taking him to his own room.

Zoola, who appeared to do as she liked, invited both Harry and Yunacka to her apartment, and treated them right royally.

"My father is coming here to see me," she said, as she dipped her fingers in a saucer of rose-water, and dabbled them about. "Would you like to see him?"

"I'm too insignificant to take much notice of," said Harry, somewhat sulkily.

"Does he want to go home to his ladylove?" she remarked, in a bantering tone. "Zoola isn't good enough for him, is she, pet?" -- this to Yunacka, who was sitting at her feet, eating sweets.

"Let me entreat of you to let me depart," said Harry earnestly, "Oh Zoola! why are you so cruel to me? Did I not help to save you from Goroob's violence when your own followers deserted you?"

"Ah," she said, with a smile, "that reminds me of something I haven't done. I must have the cowards punished; my father will teach them to be braver another time. And now let me tell you that you shall not stir from here until I like. Do you know, Harry, I begin to love you?"

"I feel flattered. I'm afraid your father would not care to know that, Zoola."

"Oh, he wouldn't mind; he lets me do exactly as I please. Doesn't your father?"

"I haven't one, Zola; I'm an orphan."

"Poor little man," she said, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him, just as a fat female attendant entered with a dish of sweet cakes.

Yunacka was particularly fond of these things, and being impatient to obtain his share, jumped upon the woman and knocked her down, sending the dish and its contents on the floor.

"Oh, sweet mistress!" she shrieked, "it's the Evil One himself! Ah -- oh! he's pulling my hair! Save me!"

Zoola went almost into convulsions of laughter at the comical sight.

Yunacka every time the woman shrieked stuffed a piece of cake in her mouth, which she threw out, spluttering and crying for help.

So unwieldy was she that she was unable to rise without help from Harry, who assisted her to her feet, saying --

"Don't be afraid, madam; he is only playing with you."

"Playing with me!" she indignantly replied. "I'd rather he didn't. It isn't pleasant for the Evil One himself to be feeding you. Faugh! I taste the brimstone from his fingers even now."

How much further she would have proceeded to vilify Yunacka is hard to say, if a man, clad in chain armour and spiked helmet, had not appeared at the door.

Taking Fatima, the attendant, by the shoulder, he swung her out of the way, and then held out his arms to Zoola, who rushed into them.

It was Rajah Pindeah, her father.

"Well, my rose of India; do I see you well after your journey?" he asked, as he kissed her affectionately.

Then catching sight of Harry, he said --

"Who is this, Zoola? and -- I declare it's an ape; as fine a specimen as I have seen, Where did you get him?"

"Which? -- the boy or the monkey?" she asked, as she played with his beard.

"Both."

"Well, the boy is my cousin Holkar. I found him making for here, and he had the ape, as you call it, with him. He says it's a wild boy."

The rajah was looking intently at Harry, who felt rather uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

"Well, young sir," he remarked, "have you no word to say to your uncle? Ah, that's right; actions, not words."

Instead of speaking Harry gave the military salute, which pleased the rajah greatly.

Yunacka, who had been watching his friend, imitated the salute so comically that the prince burst out laughing.

"Is he good at tricks, youngster?"

Harry did not answer, fearing lest his voice should betray him.

"Have you no tongue? Speak up; your brother knows how to talk."

"Yes, he knows a lot," the boy replied. "He can go through his drill as well as any sepoy."

"Then I'll take him back with me to Delhi; and you too, Holkar. I'll make a man of you; let you smell powder, and hear the roar of cannon. What say you -- would you like to go?"

Before Harry could answer Zoola said --

"Don't take him away from me so soon. He's going to be my little husband, and Yunacka is to keep us company; he's so amusing."

"I'd rather go with you, sir," pleaded Harry; "I want to be a man. It's all very well for girls to stay at home; they're used to it."

Before Zoola could give utterance to the retort which was on her tongue, an officer came to report that the English force, which had been expected for some days past, had appeared in sight, and were encamped about three miles off.

"Draw up the bridge, captain, flood the moat, and place sentries on the battlements. We must stay here till the Feringhees have moved off. Call me if you see any cause of alarm."

The intelligence afforded Harry great pleasure. If he could only make good his escape in time he might reach the British camp, and lead a small force to the relief of his beleaguered friends.

He saw Zoola's eyes fixed on him, as if she was reading his inmost thoughts, and perceived that in anything he intended to do he must be very, very cautious.

That she had taken a violent liking for him was evident; her every look and action showed it.

It was just as likely that she being a child of impulse and varied whims would get tired of him as suddenly as she had grown fond of him. This was the only consolation in the trouble that surrounded him.

His greatest danger now lay in the risk which he ran of being found out.

The rajah in that case would have no mercy; swift punishment would follow, and meant -- death!

Having given his instructions, the rajah invited Harry to sup wish him, to which he could not but consent, though with great reluctance.

Yunacka, meanwhile, guided by the smell of food, had made his way to the dining-room, and nobody being present, proceeded to help himself.

Possessing himself of a savoury dish of rice called "kedgerie," he got under the table, well knowing that he was doing wrong, and began to enjoy himself.

Afraid of being discovered and punished, he kept perfectly still, when the rajah and Harry entered.

Presently he crept on all fours from under the table, just behind the rajah's chair, and surveyed the table.

Harry saw him but took no notice; he wanted to keep himself in the background, for the very best of all motives -- self-preservation.

Yunacka sat up and began scratching himself like a monkey would, and bestowing friendly glances on his young friend.

Close to the rajah was a dish of fowl curry, which had a very appetising odour.

The wild boy could not withstand the temptation.

The rajah was not looking.

Heigh! presto! the coveted dish was whisked off the table, and the fingers of the wild boy were soon buried deep into the savoury mess.

It was hot though, full of chilies and other fiery compounds, and it burnt the lad's mouth and throat to an extent which he did not at all relish.

Near the rajah stood a flagon of wine, the finest claret.

Yunacka, reckless of consequences, stood up, seized the wine, and began drinking.

He presented a curious sight; his hands and face, smothered with curry of a yellowish hue, contrasted with his long, thick hair, and darker skin, and gave him the appearance of a demon.

Harry could not help laughing; then looked round, saw the apparition, snatched at the flagon, and received a lot of the wine in his face, in the tussle that ensued.

CHAPTER XXXVI

The rajah half drew his sword to resent the supposed insult; but fortune favoured poor Yunacka.

Heavy firing shook the building, and caused the infuriated prince to forget all about Yunacka, in his eagerness to ascertain the cause of the din.

Hardly had he rushed out than Zoola peeped in and called to Harry, saying --

"Come with me. We can see the fighting from the roof. I have a splendid pair of field glasses."

Yunacka remained behind to cram himself with the good things.

Quite as eager as Zoola to see the battle, which he rightly conjectured was begun by the English, before it was expected by the rebels, he followed her to the roof, where the rajah, and many of his officers had already collected.

The mutineers had anticipated the coming of the British, and prepared for it, by erecting batteries and cutting up the roads to prevent the passage of heavy artillery.

The scene of the fight was within half-a-mile of the rajah's castle, a fact that did not make him feel at ease.

If victorious, the British might turn their attention to him next, and carry the place by assault.

In this case, what would happen to Zoola and the ladies of his household?

Perhaps the English soldiers would treat them as the Sepoys were wont to act towards theirs.

Calling his chief eunuch aside, he held a whispered colloquy with him, the substance of which was that in certain eventualities, Zoola's honour was to be considered of more importance than her life.

This, of course, meant that she and her ladies were to be honourably despatched to save them the defiling touch of the infidel English.

"Look at them," said Zoola, animation beaming in her lovely face, as she handed the glasses to Harry. "See how they gallop; puff, puff! grand! There's the cannon! Oh, what wouldn't I give to bear aloft the holy banner of our faith, and lead our men on to victory or death!"

Harry could not help admiring Zoola's face at this moment, it was so full of strength of will and purpose.

The battle raged furiously!

The English horse artillery was at work, pounding away with iron messengers of death at the serried columns of the enemy.

Then came the cavalry, speeding like an arrow from a bow, against the overwhelming odds opposed to them.

On they come with drawn sabres, which glisten in the sun, the sheen of which seems to light up the day even.

Shoulder to shoulder -- the infantry march to take a battery.

"Charge!"

Officers wave their swords, men cheer, bang! bang! -- puffs of smoke -- hail of death -- gallant men fall.

The ranks close up as, pell-mell, helter-skelter, the enemy flee, not caring to await the shock of battle, or to be trodden under the iron heel of British foes.

"It's glorious; see they fly," cried Harry enthusiastically.

"What's glorious -- who run?" asked a harsh voice at Harry's elbow.

Turning, he saw the rajah, with flaming eyes and distended nostrils.

"The English," said Zoola, answering for him, "they are running, ain't they?"

"Yes, after the black ruffians," muttered Harry, who was so excited as to have no fear of the rajah or his myrmidons.

The rajah had grasped the lad's arm, and his grip tightened, as his excitement increased.

"Bah! the cowards," he almost hissed, "why do they run? Why do they flee before men whose faces are white?"

"Because they are cowards," said Harry, "and the English are heroes."

"Insolent whelp," cried the furious man, as he raised the slim boy in his arms, and was about to throw him from the housetop, a sheer fall of fifty feet, or more, when Zoola with a shriek clutched Harry's legs.

"Help! Father, spare him; for Allah's sake be merciful."

Not one of the bystanders dare interfere, for the rajab when enraged was like a wild beast, and destroyed those who obstructed his murderous whims.

Zoola alone had any influence with him at such times.

With a muttered oath he put Harry down, and catching up the field glasses, watched the battle.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, "the infidels are being mowed down now, our cavalry has driven them into square. By Allah! That volley was terrific. See, see! horses are riderless! Bah! All is lost; the English are victorious."

Harry had unconsciously wiped the perspiration off his face; and in doing so had removed some of the dye, disclosing his white skin.

"Allah! Allah! wonderful," said an old fellow, on observing the boy's face. "See, fear has turned his skin white. Waugh, waugh! Allah is good, and Mahomet's his prophet."

Zoola's countenance paled as she caught sight of the expression on her father's face as he looked at Harry.

Drawing a dagger from his belt, he raised it with the intention of burying it to the hilt in the boy's heart, when Zoola interposed by shielding him with her body.

"Stand aside, girl," he thundered, "the lad is a base spy."

"The fault is mine -- slay me, my father," she replied, looking him full in the face, and not shrinking before the tigerish glare of his eyes, "he saved my life, he is under my protection, you have broken bread and eaten salt with him, his life is therefore sacred."

Sheathing his dagger, the rajah said sternly --

"Away with him to the Cage! If he escape your lives shall pay the forfeit."

Open curses and menacing actions accompanied the removal of Harry, who betrayed no fear.

The "cage" was a small wooden house, with iron bars, half a foot asunder, with a post in the centre, to which the prisoner was chained like a wild beast, and exposed to the gaze of passers by, after the fashion of the pillory of old.

Harry kept up a brave heart in the midst of this misfortune, which might end in his death.

The only solace he had in this extremity, was to listen to the thunder of the English artillery, as the rebels fled upon Delhi, henceforth to be the stronghold of the gigantic military insurrection.

Whilst he was wondering how matters were progressing with the devoted little garrison he had left, a trumpet sounded, and be heard the chains of the drawbridge clank as it was lowered.

CHAPTER XXXVII

Taking advantage of the confusion consequent upon the new arrivals, Zoola drew near the cage and spoke to Harry, accompanying her speech with looks of pity.

"My poor friend," she said, "I do feel sorry. Can you forgive me? I ought to have let you go on to Delhi when you asked me."

"I must escape somehow, Zoola. The lives of my friends depend upon it. You can help me, I am sure, if you will."

"Yes, when my father is gone. And I'll accompany you on your journey."

"You? Think of the danger."

"Bah! I suppose you think all girls are cowards. But hist! nobody's looking. There's a knife and a pistol. Can you manage to pick them up?"

She threw them adroitly between the bars, and drawing them towards him with his feet, Harry stooped and secured them.

"I have very little hope now, Zoola," he said. "Look, there's Goroob himself -- and yes, Hassan. Poor fellow, he does not see me yet."

"Leave the sergeant to me, Harry. I've only got to tell my father of his conduct, and he'll be trampled to death by elephants. Good-bye, now. I'll see you again presently. I wish I could kiss you. You must marry me, Harry, and then well be always together."

He felt comforted by the knowledge that he had friends in the castle.

Yunacka was not long in discovering Harry, and went into a fit of rage when he found he could not reach him.

He was up and down the cage, putting his arm through the bars, and expending his rage in efforts to displace them.

The squadron of cavalry which had just arrived was a part of the main body of the rebels, who were in full retreat.

Goroob had recovered from his faint, and made his way to the main road, where he fell in with his compatriots, and came on to the castle.

He was too anxious to get something to eat and drink to pay attention to anything else, and thus Harry passed unnoticed by him.

Hassan, however, was not long in discovering Harry and setting his teeth together, he hissed through them --

"I'll save that boy, or die in the attempt!"

Zoola sought an interview with Hassan, and at once plunged into the subject of aiding in Harry's escape.

"Who keeps the key?" Hassan asked.

"The captain of the guard," she replied.

"And is he easy to reach?"

"How do you mean?"

"To bribe."

"No; except with drink. He's a regular toper, and rarely goes to bed sober. I have an idea how to manage the affair. Will you help me?"

"Will I not? What would I not do for our friend?"

"I'll dress up as a monkey. I have often done so in fun, and when I think the captain is tipsy enough, will set to work to abstract the key." said Zoola.

"But what of the sentry over the cage?" asked Hassan.

"I've thought of that. You must overpower him if you can. It's the only thing to do that I can see."

"I might kill him."

"It's a life for a life, Hassan. Everybody must be sacrificed to Harry's safety. Do you understand?"

"Yes; the hour, though?"

"Midnight."

"I'll be ready."

"Good."

This conversation took place in a retired spot near the ramparts, as the conspirators wished to avoid eavesdroppers.

But Goroob was seated close by, devouring some food he had stolen, and overheard some of the conversation, sufficient to make him curious as to who the speakers were.

"Hassan and the princess,'' he muttered, as he peeped cautiously round a corner of one of the bastions. "That young Englishman is in trouble, and they're going to help him out of it. I must have a finger in that pie. The rajah must know of this."

Ignorant of the danger their plan ran of being defeated, Hassan and, Zoola looked forward hopefully, to the hour when Harry would be free.

Goroob's difficulty was to get a hearing of the rajah, who was difficult of access.

The sergeant managed to get the ear of the captain of the guard, and was so mysterious in his manner, hinting at the discovery of a plot, that the officer conducted him to his highness.

His mortification was great on finding Zoola was with her father, and that he had to speak before her.

He was a man of resource, however, and on being interrogated about his business, said --

"I overheard a plot, your highness."

"Ah! Who are concerned?"

Zoola was looking straight at him, and his eyes fell before hers.

"They were strangers to me, but they belonged to your retinue. You have a prisoner; an English boy.''

"Well, what, of that?''

"His escape is to be aided at midnight."

"The sentries will be doubled. What is your name?"

"Goroob," said Zoola, before he could reply.

"What, my bul-bul" said her father, "you know the fellow?"

"Yes, father; I met him in the jungle. Perhaps he will tell you how he acted there."

"I was reconnoitring, your highness. A party of Feringhees are besieged by our braves in a bungalow in the jungle."

"A waste of time. Better far that our men should join the army in Delhi."

"My father is wise," said Zoola, with a loving caress.

"There is plenty of loot, your highness; gold, jewels, and valuables of all kinds, besides a lovely girl, fit to be the bride of an emperor."

"By the beard of the prophet, this is news," said the rajah, "The place has fallen by this time, surely?"

"I fear not, your highness. Major Custonjee has made several attacks. Our men have fallen before the death-dealing rifles of the Feringhees like corn before the sickle. May their fathers' graves be defiled."

"The English boy has come from there?"

"Yes, father. Surely we ought not to make war on women and boys?" said Zoola. "Let him go; he would be safe at Delhi."

"I will consider it."

There was a hum of voices outside, and the captain of the guard entered to announce the capture of an English prisoner.

"Shoot or hang the dog!" said the rajah. "You know I do not care to be troubled with prisoners."

"Your highness, he is of high rank, I believe. A colonel I think, and a relative of the English boy, called Harry, I imagine, since they spoke affectionately to each other."

"Bring him here, then; but mind he has no arms about him."

The rajah feared a repetition of a tragic affair in which an English officer was a prominent actor.

He shot several of his captors with a revolver, and then put a bullet through his own brain.

The prisoner was led in, looking calm and defiant.

He was a fine, handsome man, fully six feet high, and of Herculean proportions.

Yunacka entered with him, and immediately took up his position close to Zoola.

"You have an English boy here," said Colonel Hutchinson; "he is a nephew of mine. Please send him to Delhi. He is but a child yet."

This was spoken in fluent Hindoostani, in which tongue the colonel was an adept.

"Your own safety ought to be your first concern," remarked the rajah. "Who are you, and what is your rank?"

"I ought to be no stranger to you, Runjeet Singh. Do you not remember Hutchinson, who fought by your side in the Sikh war, when you had a commission in the East India Company's service, and who saved your life by carrying you from the field under a heavy fire?"

"Are you indeed my dear friend Hutchinson, sahib?" said the rajah with emotion. "My very friend of friends?"

"Yes. I am changed, I know; but I knew you instantly. You had no title then, if you remember."

"Release him and retire," said the rajah, who seemed well pleased to meet his friend.

"May I plead for my nephew's release, too?" said the colonel. "May he not come here?"

"Softly, my friend," remarked the rajah. "Remember the blood fever is on my men. The castle is full of fellows who have slain Europeans by the score, and hope to lay hands on more. If I were to favour your nephew as well as yourself they would mutiny, and both your lives, as well as my own, perhaps, would be sacrificed."

"He is miserably lodged; chained to a post like a wild beast. Cannot you alter that, rajah?"

"Yes. My daughter here will see to that, while we have a smoke and a chat; won't you, Zoola?"

"With great pleasure," was the prompt reply. "Come, Yunacka, let us go and see Harry."

The colonel explained to the rajah how it was he had been taken prisoner.

He was despatched from Delhi to act as guide to the British troops advancing from the direction of Meerut.

In that day's engagement he fell on the field insensible, and was thought to be dead.

On recovering consciousness he wandered about, and was taken prisoner near the rajah's castle.

"You must escape," said the rajah gravely. "I cannot guarantee your safety for four and twenty hours."

"Thanks; and my nephew?"

"My daughter will see to him, no doubt. Are you content?"

"Yes. Who knows but that I in my turn may be of service to you before this cruel rebellion is at an end?"

"Allah is great and to be feared. He has led us together again. Your nephew will owe his life to you, colonel. Let me show you to your room; but first let me give you arms. There are plenty -- select for yourself."

Colonel Hutchinson was shown to a room and supplied with a rope-ladder.

The rajah, disguised as a common trooper, kept watch and guard outside the door.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

Meanwhile, how fared it with Harry Coverdale? Badly, in both mind and body.

He had seen and spoken to his uncle, but knew not what fate had befallen him since.

His body and limbs ached, and altogether he was not what might be termed comfortable.

It was some time, too, before his anxiety was allayed by Zoola entering his cage, which was unlocked by the captain of the guard, in obedience to his master's order, transmitted through her.

The chains were taken off the boy, and a bed placed on the floor for his use; also food and drink.

"What has become of the English officer?" Harry asked in a whisper.

"Safe. My father is his friend."

"Thank Heaven! Can't I see him, Zoola? He is my uncle."

"Yes. Be quiet, and listen to me. We'll leave Yunacka here in place of you. Coax him to lie down."

This was effected without much trouble; the faithful creature seemed to understand that Harry's safety was in somewise dependent on him, and was very tractable.

The darkness favoured Harry's retreat.

Zoola took him to her father's private apartment, where they had a chat about their future proceedings.

She found a note addressed to her from the rajah, which she read and then handed to Harry.

"Are you satisfied now?" she asked. "Is not my father your friend?"

"Yes, but how shall we communicate with Hassan?"

He promised to be at the 'cage' by midnight. Goroob overheard our plan for your escape; however, he can do no harm now that my father is on our side."

The more immediate matters connected with the proposed escape were now discussed by the pair, and settled; the only thing Harry objected to being her proposal to accompany them.

"We may be exposed to great dangers, Zoola," he urged, "It would ill repay your father's kindness were I not to point this out to you."

"Think of your danger, too, Harry, While I am with you I can protect you. My fathers name is well known and respected by all classes of his countrymen. A word from me would be of great use to you and your uncle, Harry."

Perceiving how useless it was to attempt to dissuade her, he said no more on the subject.

"Wait here a short while," she remarked, with a merry twinkle in her eye; "I won't be long. If a pet monkey of mine comes in don't interfere with it. You can call it Zoola if you like, though."

Harry was rather uneasy about the madcap Zoola.

Suddenly a monkey bounded into the room, and jumped on his back, pulled his hair and ears, and tweaked his nose.

"Quiet, Zoola," he said. "I'll tell your mistress."

He was astounded at the merry laughter which came from the supposed monkey.

"What, Harry!" said the mischievous princess, "didn't you know me?"

"'Pon my word, I was never more taken in in my life," said Harry. "Suppose we commence work now. I want so to see my uncle."

"Don't tell my father who I am," she said. "Promise me, Harry."

"I do promise, Zoola. Be careful, whatever you do. Remember the castle is full of lawless soldiery, who cannot be expected to see through your disguise."

"I'm able to take care of myself, Harry. Come along."

"Is that you, Zoola?" the rajah asked, as the pair approached his post.

The monkey gave Harry a pinch to remind him of his promise.

"No, your highness; it's me Harry Coverdale, the English boy, and Yunacka, the wild boy."

"You mustn't recognise me again, lad," said the rajah; "I don't want myself known. I have a reason. Go in to your uncle now, and wait my signal."

A gentle tap at the door caused it to open, and both Harry and Zoola entered.

The former was soon in his uncle's arms, who welcomed him heartily.

Meanwhile Zoola, with a view to the safety of the prisoner, locked the door from the inside -- a precaution the colonel had neglected.

"Is aunt safe?" was Harry's first inquiry.

"Yes, boy; perfectly. And so are Colonel Aubrey and family. But where's Val?"

"I left him safe in garrison."

Hereupon Harry gave an account of the position of the besieged, to which his uncle listened attentively.

"Is Mr. Fitzmaurice and his people in a position to hold out much longer, Harry?"

"I think so. But Custonjee seems determined to push matters to extremities."

When we get away from here we must of the best plan for bringing them relief," he remarked. "Heaven only knows it will all end."

Zoola kept near the door, and seemed to be listening intently.

A noise of heavy, footsteps attracted the attention of those in the room.

The rajah's gruff challenge was next heard.

"Who comes there?"

"Enemies of the English," said a voice, which Harry and Zoola recognised as Goroob's. "We mean to settle with the colonel first, and the young cub afterwards."

"The rajah has placed me here. Back, I say!" said the royal sentinel, as with bare scimitar, and foot well planted, he awaited the advance of the miscreants.

"The rajah won't care a fig. Open the door. Our swords are sharp, and want using."

"You enter not this apartment. Think of the rajah's indignation and the punishment that will follow."

"Who cares? Come on, comrades; we want a little practice on white carcases."

There was a clash of steel, followed by exclamations of rage and pain.

Goroob and his fellows were not prepared for this resistance on the part of the supposed sentry.

His sword was sharp, and his arm strong, as they discovered in the short encounter they had had with him.

In the confusion the door opened, and the rajah was dragged into the room by Colonel Hutchinson.

"Your life is too valuable," he said, "to sacrifice it to the caprice of a pack of half-drunken ruffians."

"You and your friends must escape at once. Make haste; they are hammering at the door and may break it in."

Goroob and his party rushed at the door and tried to batter it in.

"The rope ladder is ready. Harry, you go first," said the colonel.

"Oh, sir, do not ask me," pleaded Harry. "You're life is more valuable than mine."

"Obedience is a necessity now, lad," was the almost stern reply. "Go!"

Zoola sprang upon the window and commenced the descent.

Harry followed.

"Hear that?" said Zoola, as there came the sound of a door crashing off its hinges. "I hope my father will escape their fury."

Colonel Hutchinson dropped to the ground, followed by the rajah.

Both were only just in time to escape the furious group that burst into the room.

Loud oaths followed the discovery of the escape of the Englishmen and the sentry.

"The boy; we can get him," shouted Goroob, who led the way downstairs, followed by the mad crowd.

The rajah summoned the assistance of the guard to quell the disturbance.

His object in doing this was to leave the way clear for the escape of the colonel and his companions.

In arranging matters thus he ran a great risk of being attacked by the soldiers.

The guard surrounded the cage in which Yunacka, tired out, was fast asleep.

"Hasten, now is your time," said the rajah. "Stay, I will see you safely through the gate."

The drawbridge was lowered, and the trio passed over in safety.

The drawbridge was raised slowly, and the fugitives were shut off from capture, from that quarter, at least.

CHAPTER XXXIX

We must now see how it fared with the garrison since Harry left them.

The presence of the sepoys remained a source of distrust.

Fitzmaurice gave instructions to keep, a watch on their actions.

Dana fell ill now that the reaction had set in, and gave her friends some concern.

Dr. O'Shaughnessy prescribed perfect rest.

A burning fever set in, and the beautiful girl, so brave and patient in health, now became exacting and fretful.

Mention has been made of the danger there was in obtaining water, which in peaceable times was so plentiful.

The natives fought shy of the well, except at night, as it was almost certain death to be seen near it in the light of day.

Even moonlight nights were dangerous to the undertaking.

A misfortune happened to a chatty (earthenware vessel), in which a supply of water was kept.

A bullet straying into the bungalow, broke the chatty, and the precious fluid was lost.

Val run in and out to look to Dana and give her medicine and water, as there was no one to nurse her, all the native women having been sent to a place of safety before the siege.

"Water, water!" was all her cry, as she tossed restlessly on her bed.

The rebels amused themselves with firing round shot occasionally, which did very little damage to anything but the house, in which few people, except the sick and wounded, took refuge.

The place began to look in a dilapidated condition, but it was still habitable.

Val could not well ask anybody else to expose their lives in the attempt to obtain a supply of water, and so he resolved to run the risk himself.

Exposure to danger had sharpened the lad's wits. He set them to work now to circumvent the enemy's marksmen, who were located in trees, from which they could only be dislodged by making a sortie at the risk of great loss.

A splendid tiger skin hung against the wall.

"The very thing," he muttered. "I'll have a lark with those black beasts."

Securing the "mussuck" (a water-bag made of pig skin) to his body, he put the tiger's skin over all and made his way to the well, followed by the laughter of his comrades.

He looked so comical, and anything but a royal Bengal tiger in his movements.

To keep up appearances, the members of the garrison shouted and began to fire, with blank I cartridges only.

Val's heart was in his mouth as he went with very unsteady gait on all-fours, and got in view of the enemy's sharpshooters.

A random shot might knock him over and end his life.

He reached the well, but the water had to be drawn, by far the most difficult and dangerous part of the undertaking.

Not a shot had been fired by the enemy.

In fact, there was an unusual stillness in the direction of the foe.

He let the bucket down.

Still, no firing from the marksmen in the trees.

"What could it all mean?

Perhaps reinforcements were approaching to help the garrison, which stood solely in need of it.

He filled his bag, and was debating how to get it home when the earth trembled.

There was a dull roar, and a cloud of dust rose in the air, followed by a terrific fire of musketry and the fuller notes of cannon.

Slinging the mussuck across his back, Harry ran as fast as he could to the bungalow.

Having given Dana a drink, he caught up his rifle and made haste out to join his comrades.

The enemy had sprung a mine, which blew down a portion of the stockade, through which the besiegers began to pour.

The sepoys who had only recently joined were brave, true hearted friends.

No further need of watching them.

They bit their cartridges with the most loyal among the defenders, and fired at the fellows in the breach.

Custonjee was there, sword in hand, encouraging his men to the attack, and seemingly bearing a charmed life, while others fell around him.

Smoke and flame rolled along the trenches, where devoted men crouched and fired, never giving a thought as to whether one of the hundreds of bullets whistling in the air would strike them or not.

Val and Clarence attended to their gum, which belched forth death in no uncertain manner.

Inside, the sick and wounded sat up in bed, and those who were able; loaded their rifles, and with compressed lips awaited the possible coming of the foe.

The doctor attended to the wounded cases brought in from time to time.

Suddenly a girl with golden hair and a face flushed with fever appeared in the trenches.

It was Dana.

The noise had quickened her pulses and increased the fever in her veins.

"Death! death!" she almost shrieked. "Spare not. Slay! slay!"

CHAPTER XXXVII

When Harry and his companions found themselves outside the castle gates, it behoved them to decide upon their future course of action.

"This monkey will be in the way," Colonel Hutchinson remarked. "What are we to do with him?"

"Allow him to accompany us, uncle; it's a great favourite of mine and helped to save my life."

Zoola was delighted to hear this; she longed to see the world, to take part in adventures, and to behold Dana, of whom she felt jealous.

Whether Harry liked it or not, the princess had fallen over head and ears in love with him, and being a spoilt child of fortune, one who was never denied anything, she resolved to be near him.

"Shall we linger about here for awhile, uncle?" Harry asked; "our friend Hassan may escape."

"I think not," was the prompt reply; "let us be moving towards Delhi."

Of course, Harry at once complied with this suggestion, as was his duty, considering that the colonel was older and far more experienced in matters requiring decision and promptitude.

"Do you think we can obtain reinforcements for the garrison uncle?" Harry asked.

"Heaven only knows, my boy. Men are wanted to cope with the rebels who are swarming into Delhi. I have more than half a mind to make my way to your friends, under your guidance. Harry. Custonjee might listen to me, and draw off his men."

"Half a company of English troops would be more than sufficient for our purpose," remarked Harry; "but listen, some one or something is coming. Stoop, uncle -- Zoola, down."

The trio hid themselves in a dry watercourse, and waited to discover whether the noise they heard proceeded from friend or foe.

It was moonlight now, a fortunate thing for the travellers, as they would be enabled to see anything approaching.

That foes were about was to be expected, as the country swarmed with scoundrels who made a trade of robbing and murdering anybody they fell in with, especially if they appeared well to do.

Such creatures as these always hang on the skirts of a rebel army; fellows who will neither fight nor work, but live by plunder.

Caution was necessary on the part of Colonel Hutchinson, because he was a European and was not disguised.

Such as he could expect no mercy; his dress and face were sufficient to sign his death warrant, if he fell in with the mutineers.

"It's an elephant, I believe," said Harry. "Yes, it is, uncle; see, there's a party of armed men on its back; they look like Europeans. Shall we hail them?"

"Wait; listen to their voices," was the reply. "I suppose we're going in the right direction, a voice said.

"Halt!" cried the colonel, springing into the road in his eagerness to bring the party to a stand.

A bullet whizzed unpleasantly past his ears.

"I am an Englishman!" he cried; "you are going right into the jaws of death. Halt!"

"A thousand pardons," said a hearty voice; "one of my men who's nervous fired at you. You are not hurt, I hope?"

"No. Are you bound for Delhi?" the colonel asked.

"Yes, we missed the main column and have wandered about on the back of this brute; bitooh, you rascal," (this to the elephant.)

The intelligent animal knelt, and the person who had acted as spokesman alighted and joined the colonel.

"I hardly think it safe for you to proceed along the high road," said the colonel; the rebels have closed in on our columns, and will be sure to fall across you. Besides, you're going back again by continuing your present direction."

"What had we better do?" the commissariat officer asked (his name being Redwood.) "I don't like parting with the elephant, it's government property."

"The jungle is close at hand," said Harry, joining in the conversation for the first time; "it would be safer to go there."

"Hadn't we better all keep together?" said the colonel. "We would be able to protect ourselves the better. What do you say, Captain Redwood?"

"I place myself and party under your orders, colonel," was the prompt reply.

"How many men have you with you?"

"Three. We can make room for you and your companion. Is that a monkey you have with you? Of course, we won't take it with us, not unless you wish it, colonel."

Harry thought it was high time to tell his uncle the truth, and, with an apology, drew him aside, saying in a low tone --

"Uncle, the pretended monkey is the rajah's daughter in disguise, She saved my life, and was of service to you. We can't desert her, or send her back."

"How embarrassing, Harry!"

"Yes, it is all that; but it can't be helped now. I advised her not to come."

"You are talking of me, I know," said Zoola, drawing near. "I am in the way, I suppose, and must shift for myself."

"No, Zoola," said Harry, placing his arm around her. "I won't desert you, nor will my uncle either, I know."

"What will your father think?" remarked the colonel.

"He won't care; I don't care if he does. I like Harry, and he likes me; and I like adventure, and so does he; and he's not married, no more am I, and --"

"Stop, stop, my dear," said the colonel, laughing, "you have given me ample reason already to satisfy all my scruples. You shall accompany us, if you wish it.

"This," he said, presenting her to the captain, "is a young lady in disguise, a friend of my nephew, and the daughter of a man of wealth and position; her sex alone will be sufficient to recommend her to our joint protection."

This matter was soon settled, and the three wayfarers were seated on the back of the elephant.

As the animal was not very tractable under the drivership of the captain, Zoola volunteered to take the position of mahout or driver.

Under her guidance and the influence of her voice the animal became perfectly controllable and as gentle as a pony.

Acting on Harry's advice, the high road was abandoned for the jungle, which, though less open, was perfectly safe to travel through, as long as the huge beast remained manageable.

The danger to be guarded against was the risk they all ran of the elephant running under the trees, when its human load would be swept off its back, maimed or killed.

Presently the sound of approaching horse men placed the party on the qui vivo.

It was a detachment of cavalry on the way to join the rebels, and Harry and his friends realised in a moment the terrible danger to which they were now exposed.

The accoutrements and appointments of the advancing cavalry shone in the moonlight like burnished silver, and made a very pretty spectacle.

But their drawn swords did not present an agreeable sight, held as they were by cruel wretches, who would have been delighted to hack and hew the little party to pieces.

There was no escaping the sowars, so the colonel whispered his orders for perfect silence, and told Zoola to bring the elephant to a halt under a towering tamarind tree, the branches of which would veil their faces.

Colonel Hutchinson was an accomplished linguist, and could speak Hindostanee like a native.

"You will help me out of this difficulty, won't you, if necessary?" he whispered to Zoola.

"Certainly; tell any amount of stories," she answered. "I'll father them, colonel. It will be quite a treat to mislead these cavalry men."

Nothing could tame the girl's spirits.

Had the occasion permitted it she would have chatted away gaily, but silence was imperative, and she had, perforce, to hold her tongue.

The moment the leader of the sowars arrived opposite the tree under which the elephant stood he gave orders to his men to surround the spot.

"Who are you?" he asked, "and why are you here?"

"Let me answer him, uncle," said Harry, in a whisper. "I know exactly what to say."

"For Heaven's sake, be careful then, boy."

"We are on our way to join Major Custonjee," said Harry.

"Where? not at Delhi surely? This is not the road there."

"No, my lord," replied the Colonel, anticipating Harry; "he is besieging the pigs of English in a bungalow. We are on our way to exterminate them --bismillah! but our swords thirst for their blood."

"Is there loot to be had there?" asked the officer of sowars.

The one idea of the rebels was to rob friend and foe alike, but they preferred plundering the English if the opportunity came in their way.

"Plenty, my lord," Harry replied, on the impulse of the moment.

His uncle pulled his sleeve too late to stop him.

"Then we'll join you," was the instant reply. "Our swords want fleshing."

"Better join Runjet Singh," remarked Zoola; "he will lead you to glory. Custonjee won't like to divide the honours with you, I'm afraid."

" Never mind," was the half angry reply, "I've made up my mind. My men will follow me, so there's an end of that. We have as much right to the gold mohurs of the Feringhees as any one else, and mean to have our share; what say you, comrades?"

A chorus of assents greeted this question.

"Do you want further convincing?" asked the officer. "If you do you'll get it in a shape you won't much relish; dismount and cook for my men; they are gentlemen, and haven't been used to wait on themselves."

This was a terrible dilemma to be placed in; if the order was disobeyed a conflict might ensue in which they could not hope for victory, the odds against them were so great.

"Let us proceed on our way at once," suggested Colonel Hutchinson. "The garrison has been reinforced, and our services will be required by the major."

The officer of sowars was firm, and insisted on his orders' being obeyed, observing --

"I give you five minutes to make up your minds. At the end of that time if you refuse we shall see who's the strongest."

The colonel, Captain Redwood and Harry resolved themselves into a council of war to decide upon a course of action.

If they obeyed the tyrannical order, a discovery, would ensue, and every man would be butchered without mercy.

If they refused the issue would be decided by the sword; what could seven do against so many?

"We'll be shot down like partridges if we remain on the back of the elephant," remarked Captain Redwood.

"If we dismount our state won't be bettered. Break through and trust to the speed of the elephant to get us safely out of the mess," suggested Harry.

"Bah, I wonder where your wits are?" said Zoola. "Why, an owl would see what to do."

Her hearers couldn't help smiling.

"Well, young lady! what would you suggest?" asked the colonel.

"Hide in the tree; if they fire, they'll miss most likely; you'll hit some of them every shot you fire."

"What will become of the elephant?" asked Redwood; "it's government property, you know."

Harry was minded to say, "Let it go to Jericho for all I care," but he didn't.

It seemed so odd to him that anybody could give a thought to the safety of a mere brute at a time when the lives of seven human beings hung in the balance.

Zoola's suggestion seemed to hit the happy mean, and it was decided to act upon it.

The word was passed to the three European soldiers to make their way into the tree quietly, one at a time, and to take their firearms with them.

By standing upon the elephant's back they were able to do this easily.

Luckily the branches hung down pretty low, and screened the operation.

All were up with the exception of Zoola, when the officer of sowars asked them to dismount in accordance with his previous order.

"Clear the way there!" screamed Zoola, as if seized with a sudden alarm, "the elephant is savage. Tell your men to get out of the brute's way. I can't keep him in."

Urging the animal forward, it made straight for the officer, whose horse curveted and pranced, and at last fairly bolted.

"Take care,'' shrieked Zoola, acting her part to perfection. "Take care -- quick!"

Whether the animal was frightened or not, it is a.fact that it unhorsed a couple of sowars' with its trunk, and struck consternation into the ranks of their comrades.

It is hard to say how matters would have ended, perhaps favourably for Harry and his comrades, when one of the soldier's muskets went off by accident and shot a sowar.

This was the signal for an attack upon the tree, and quite a shower of balls from the sowars' pistols whistled through the foliage, harmlessly as it happened.

One horseman fell after another, horses curveted and pranced, some lay in the agonies of death with their riders crushed under them, and the echoes were awakened far and near.

In ten minutes' time only, the dead and wounded remained on the spot; the remainder cleared away as fast as their chargers could take them.

"Victory! thank Heaven for it!" said Colonel Hutchinson. "How is it with you all, comrades?"

"All well, I believe," replied Captain Redwood. "But where's that plucky girl?"

"All right somewhere, I'll wager," replied Harry. "I expect to see her back soon."

The Europeans did not descend from the tree for some time.

"Listen to that," said the colonel; "it sounds like distant firing; a cannonade, as far I can judge. It can't be from Delhi; it's too far off for the sound to reach this spot."

"It's the garrison defending itself for dear life," replied Harry, "Heaven preserve all my brave friends."

CHAPTER XLI

The rajah having seen the fugitives safely across the drawbridge, threw off his disguise, and rushed to the scene of the disorderly soldiers.

"The keys I saw, old blockhead!" shouted Goroob. "If you don't give them up I'll pluck every hair out of your beard. The keys!"

"Make way there, men," said the rajah sternly. "Guard, do your duty."

He elbowed his way with difficulty in the direction of the spot where Goroob was standing, but was too late to prevent his getting possession of the key from the terrified captain of the guard.

The giant opened the cage, and bending down pushed in his arm, seized Yunacka by the leg, and commenced pulling him out very roughly.

The wild boy disliking this treatment, doubled himself forward as if he had been made of india-rubber, and his teeth met in Goroob's hand, who give a yell and fell backwards.

The next moment Yunacka bounded out, leaped on the heads of the bystanders, who stood wedged together like sardines, and making a bridge of their skulls, escaped into the house.

Hassan was standing on the outskirts of the throng, and saw Yunacka, but wondered greatly what had become of Harry, and where Zoola was.

The rajah was endeavouring to get near enough to Goroob to make an example of him.

He succeeded in this at last, and presenting a pistol at his huge carcase, shot him.

Some one raised the cry "The rajah is shot!"

It was taken up and spread far and near, amid quite an infernal din.

He was a great favourite with his own men, who turned out en masse to avenge his supposed death.

A free fight ensued; too free, in fact, for the object the loyal portion of the garrison had in view.

Friends shot and stabbed friends; blood flowed freely, corpses strewed the ground, and the groans of the wounded arose on all sides.

Some one raised the cry "The English are upon us!" when the panic became something terrible.

Men strove like demons to get clear of the crowd, and on succeeding, rushed wildly hither and thither seeking a spot wherein to hide.

Many fled to the drawbridge and lowered it, rushing wildly into the open country, some in their eagerness defeating their object by tumbling into the moat and drowning.

When order and quiet were restored, the rajah, who had escaped unhurt, looked round for his daughter in vain.

He concluded at last that she fled when the stampede took place.

When morning dawned he gathered his force together, and made his way in the direction of Delhi, accompanied by Hassan and Yunacka, the latter riding a horse as bravely as any of them.

At the first halt Hassan spoke to the rajah about Zoola.

"Depend upon it, your highness," he remarked, "she is with the English officer and the boy. Let me go in search of her. I promise you faithfully to see her safely to your castle. Have I your permission?"

"You swear this on the Koran?"

"I do. May Allah desert me here and hereafter if I do not keep my word."

"Go. Heaven be with you."

Taking a heavy gold chain from around his neck, he placed it about Hassan's.

"May I take the wild boy with me, your highness?"

"You may. Speed. Spare nothing to restore my daughter to me, and your reward shall be great."

Hassan drew Yunacka's horse out of the ranks, and by signs made him understand that he was to follow him.

The pair left the cavalcade, and Hassan acting as guide, shaped his course towards Delhi, whither he conjectured Harry and his companions would make for.

Yunacka was delighted with his position, and was never better pleased than when his steed was at full gallop.

Such antics did he cut, and shrieks and screams of delight did he utter that the animal he bestrode took fright, and fairly bolted, taking obstructions in gallant style, while his wild rider kept on, now in the saddle, anon on the beast's neck.

As for shaking him off, it was out of the question; he stuck to his seat like a leech, and seemed rather pleased than otherwise with the novelty of the situation.

Hassan followed in his wake, and being a fearless rider, kept up with him pretty well.

Yunacka's horse was blown when a wood was reached.

Hassan was anxious to push on, but the cattle were too exhausted by their spin to be able to do this until they had been rested sufficiently.

Fruit grew about wild; a fact which did not escape the boy's notice.

He was soon climbing tree after tree, throwing down guavas, cocoa-nuts and other fruit in abundance.

Whilst he was thus engaged a band of a dozen desperadoes rushed out of a sanunee house (temple), seized Hassan, robbed him of all he possessed, and then bound him to a tree.

Yunacka had been looking down at these high-handed proceedings, unable to decide whether the fellows were friends or foes.

In his own eccentric fashion he resolved to find out the truth for himself, and accordingly dropped a cocoa-nut on the pate of one of the banditti, a fellow with huge whiskers and a ferocious moustache.

Coming from such a height it did not fall very light, and the fellow shrieked in a most undignified manner.

A comrade who went to his assistance, received a nut on his arm, which nearly broke it.

Looking up, the fellow discovered Yunacka, who grinned as he kept on pelting them.

One of the ruffians raised his musket to fire, when Yunacka snatched a pistol from his belt and pulled the trigger.

The shot fired, almost at random, took effect, and the man staggered back with a bullet in his shoulder.

"Is it a man or a monkey?" asked one of the bandits. "Allah! but it is wonderful."

"He is a demon," replied Hassan; "a wild man of the woods. He not only kills but eats people. I suppose he has murdered my companion. Have you never heard of him?"

While he was talking Yunacka was descending, and jumped from a height of over eight feet right among the scoundrels.

Snatching a musket from one of them, he began using it as a club, and soon put them to flight.

One of them in his terror leaped on the boy's horse and was galloping off, when Yunacka raised the musket and fired, bringing the fellow out of the saddle, with a bullet through his brain.

To release Hassan from his bonds was the work of a few moments.

On the person of the dead man Hassan fortunately found the most of the things looted from him, the rajah's gift being among them.

The horse too was recovered, and they resumed their journey, reaching the British camp late at night.

They were taken before the officer in charge of the main guard, to whom Hassan told his story.

Colonel Aubrey was the officer, and questioned him closely as to the position of the garrison, and the force against which it had to contend.

Custonjee was known to him, of course, and when Hassan spoke of Harry and Val, he was at no loss to understand who they were.

"Did you hear the name of the officer who escaped from the rajah's castle?" he asked.

"No, but I believe he was a friend of the lad Harry's. They escaped together. I expected to find they had reached here before this."

Yunacka came in for his share of notice, and was soon a favourite with the men of the guard, who were pleased with his antics.

Unfortunately no one could be spared from the camp to go to the assistance of the beleaguered garrison, much as Colonel Aubrey pressed the matter, and offered to head any detachment detailed for the duty.

All he could obtain was permission to visit the garrison to encourage them to hold out until aid could be sent to them, which would not be delayed when the proper moment arrived.

This refusal may appear cruel considering that the lives of so many depended on assistance being sent.

But the truth was the English had enough to do to hold their own with the resources at their disposal, for the enemy made frequent sorties, which had to be repulsed, and kept the little force on the qui vive.

Colonel Aubrey, Val's father, accompanied by his two friends, left Delhi, the former disguised as a native, and all well armed.

CHAPTER XLII

When Zoola caused the diversion in favour of her companions she had no idea that the elephant would bolt as he did and become uncontrollable.

She did not get frightened, although being alone on the back of a refractory elephant, in the heart of an Indian jungle, was not calculated to soothe one's nerves, or allay one's fears.

"This is fun," she muttered, with a little laugh. "I wonder what will become of Harry, dear fellow that he is, and his comrades. This old elephant has turned out a bad fellow. I believe he and I will fall out yet."

Her great fear was the chance she ran of falling in with the sowars again, or with some band of plunderers.

Luckily for her the elephant did not take it into his head to run a-muck at the trees, or to do anything to imperil her safety, save in taking her away from the protection of Harry and his friends.

It was a lovely night, and she quite enjoyed the situation.

Stupid little thing that she was, it never occurred to her to slip down from her exalted position and join her friends, leaving the huge beast to take his walks abroad alone.

The aspect of the jungle began to change as she went on, until at last she began to perceive that she was getting right into the heart of the wild tract.

Tigresses and their cubs sported about like cats and kittens, as full of fun as the most harmless of living things.

She brought the elephant to a standstill under a mango tree, and while it fed off the tender twigs, she watched the wild creatures at their play.

"Pretty darlings," she murmured, as the cubs crawled in the direction of the elephant.

The mother, anticipating no danger, allowed her progeny to move about freely, and to get almost under the feet of the huge beast.

One unlucky cub, too venturesome, or too curious, got in among the provender which the elephant had provided for itself, and was lifted in its trunk to its capacious mouth, and then was thrown aside so roughly as to make it mew piteously.

The mother gave a warning cry, which brought her little ones to her, save the one the elephant had treated so roughly.

With a menacing growl the tigress advanced against the elephant, and when it came near enough received a blow from its trunk, which fairly doubled it up.

Roaring savagely, it sprang at the huge beast again, when Zoola, seeing how things were going, sprang into the branches overhead, and made her way out of reach of the belligerents, but taking up a position from whence she could see the fight.

Beaten off again, the tigress roared, and was answered by its mate, who came tearing upon the scene of action.

Evidently tigers have a language of their own, for the pair commenced an attack on the elephant, which trumpeted forth a kind of challenge as it faced round, its hind-quarters protected by the trunk of the tree.

The sagacity of the brute in taking up this position was wonderful, since tigers are fond of attacking elephants in the rear, and making their way from thence to the animal's head, when they blind them with their claws.

Now the creature's trunk came into requisition.

The tiger was received on it, and enveloped in its coil, was dashed against the earth, and then thrown aside, much hurt, but still game.

The animal's blood was up, and it evidently did not fear its huge antagonist, which towered above it like a mountain.

Meanwhile the tigress had assailed the elephant's right flank, and was trying to work its way upward with its sharp claws, which were dug into the beast's hide, leaving white marks or scratches wherever they touched.

The pliant trunk was swung round, and the savage beast dislodged.

As may be readily conceived, all this was not carried on quietly.

The tigers roared, and the elephant trumpeted loudly.

These cries were taken up by other beasts, and soon a concert of discordant sounds awoke the echoes far and wide.

Zoola had seen encounters between wild beasts at her father's castle, and at the courts of native princes, but had never witnessed anything like the present combat; the tigers being in splendid fettle, the arena the leafy glades of the jungle, overshadowed by the blue canopy of heaven, spangled with stars.

The monkeys in the tree in which she had taken refuge woke up, and became very active.

Perceiving a stranger, they resented the intrusion by making faces and swearing at her.

Her attention, however, was soon diverted from the monkeys to what was going on below.

The tigers had been joined by two others, and the four made common cause against their huge foe.

It was a novel spectacle, this combat between four agile, sinewy creatures and a huge moving tower of flesh and bone.

From quarrelling with the elephant the male tigers fought with each other, and the combat was a desperate one.

While they were locked in a deadly embrace, biting at each other's necks, the elephant, who was smarting under severe wounds, advanced and dealt the pair vicious blows with its trunk, and then made off into the jungle, trumpeting, but whether through fear or a feeling that it was victorious it is hard to say.

Zoola found herself alone now that the elephant had gone.

Selecting the fork of the tree, she settled herself to sleep, and was soon oblivious of her surroundings in happy dreamland.

Monkeys flitted about, wondering at the strange creature who reposed in their leafy dwelling.

A tree-snake glided down the branches and hissed on nearing her, but passed her by harmlessly.

Zoola slept on.

It was broad daylight when she awoke and looked round with astonishment not unmixed with delight at the novelty of her position.

Being in a good condition of health, she began to think of breakfast. The tree in which she sat contained nothing to satisfy her cravings.

Descending, she gazed with curiosity at the body of one of the tigers, killed in last night's encounter, and then walked leisurely forward, picking wild plums from bushes, and taking an occasional draught from a crystal rill.

A special Providence seemed to be watching over the girl, in her wanderings, which took her past the haunts of wild beasts and the home of reptiles, whose bite was fatal.

"I wonder where Harry is," she muttered. "I ought to have stayed with him."

Harry was wondering about the same time where she was, and blaming himself for having lost sight of her.

But she felt anything but miserable, and walked on.

She thought she heard the sound of firing occasionally, but it was so indistinct and uncertain that she paid little heed to it.

Presently a cheetah made towards her.

Bounding almost to her feet, it stood in a playful attitude, looking into her face with anything but a vicious expression.

It was Azraal, Dana's favourite, out roaming; the confinement to the house and the continual noise of the firing being anything but pleasant to it.

Zoola ventured to pat the beautiful creature's head, and spoke to it gently, when it raced round like a dog, giving expression to its pleasure by short barks.

She knew by this that she was safe from the tame creature, and she also concluded that it must have an owner, or it would not have been brought into such a state.

Azraal kept near her while she walked on, whiling away the time by talking to it.

Tired out at last, she placed her back to a tree and went asleep, Azraal lying at her feet, its head on its paw, and its eyes fastened on her face.

It was a pretty sight, at least so thought three horsemen who, a few hours later, and while she still slept, came up.

Azraal awoke and growled.

Yunacka, for he was one of the newcomers, threw himself off his horse, and rushing forward, flung his arms round the cheetah's neck.

Zoola awoke, and seeing him, cried --

"Halloa, wild boy! Where's Harry?"

"Colonel Aubrey and Hassan dismounted, the latter recognising the princess.

"Where is Harry, your highness?" he asked.

"Safe enough somewhere, with his uncle, and four other Europeans," she replied.

CHAPTER XLII

Zoola was glad to find herself with friends again.

"Did you hear the name of Harry's companions?" Colonel Aubrey asked, as he sat near her.

"He called one of them uncle," she replied.

"Colonel Hutchinson was it?"

"Yes. He was an old friend of my father's. I hope they are all safe."

"No doubt they are. Half-a-dozen resolute men will be quite an accession to the little garrison. Perhaps we may drop across the party soon. Shall we go on?"

"Yes. Have you come far to-day?"

"From Delhi; but we've ridden hard."

"And my father -- what of him?" she asked.

"Perhaps Hassan can give you some information on that head," the colonel remarked.

"I left him yesterday," Hassan observed. "He was quite well then, and extracted a promise from me to see you back in safety to the castle."

"He is a dear fellow, but you can't take me back just yet, Hassan. I want to see some fighting, and I'm dying to see Dana and Val. I've heard so much of them."

While this conversation was going on, Yunacka and Azraal went off on an exploring expedition together.

Azraal killed a deer, which his companion dragged in triumph behind him, and threw at the feet of his comrades.

The morning ride had given them capital appetites, and they were ready for the venison steaks.

Azraal had his share of the carcase; Yunacka took an active part in the cooking arrangements.

He gathered sticks, blew the fire, and cut up the meat.

Zoola laughed at the comical appearance he presented.

The steaks were pronounced capital, and Zoola, princess though she was, enjoyed her food more than she had done for many a day.

After lunch the entire party started.

Suddenly they came in sight of Harry and his companions, who like themselves were making their way to the garrison.

A hearty cheer greeted the recognition, and they were soon shaking hands and comparing notes.

Harry, as may be imagined, was only too delighted to meet with Zoola again, whom he had well nigh given up as lost.

In a locality like that they were traversing, to lose oneself was a very serious matter.

"Zoola, how could you give me such a fright?" he asked.

"Harry? I couldn't help it. If you were on a great elephant, and he ran away with you, what could you do?"

"Get down while he was running away, you little puss; that's what I would do," said Harry. "But there, I forgive you."

"Won't Dana be glad to see somebody?" she remarked, changing the conversation, and looking up archly into his face, as they walked apart from their companions.

"Yes, she will. I'm afraid something's wrong with her; I have had bad dreams."

"You love her, I suppose, Harry?"

"Yes, to that question; with all my heart. Although I have not known her long, yet I seem to have been her friend for years. I feel towards her --"

"Just as she does for you, no doubt, Harry. I think I'll get Hassan to take me back home."

Tears rushed into her eyes, and her tones were full of spite and envy.

Harry playfully pinched the girl's ear, and said --

"Why, Zoola, what ails you?"

"I am nobody in your eyes. You -- you never have bad dreams about me, Harry," she replied.

He could not help laughing at this display of jealousy on her part, and said --

"I think, Zoola, you could not do better than go home with Hassan. Remember, fighting is going on."

"What of that, am I a coward?" she asked, with flashing eyes and quivering nostrils. "If Dana is not afraid, why should I be? I'm a princess, and would die rather than show signs of fear; besides, to die is only to sleep, Harry."

He listened to this in silence, and felt the girl loved him.

"He felt pleased at the conquest he had made, and, boy-like, looked forward with pleasure to meeting Val, and doing a little boasting about having secured the affections of a princess.

He was thinking of how he could best manage to pacify her, when a bullet whistled unpleasantly near his head.

Catching Zoola by the hand, he raced back to his companions, who were preparing for the anticipated attack.

It turned out to be a false alarm, and that Yunacka had inadvertently discharged his rifle, and nearly shot Harry.

"The scare won't do us much harm," remarked Colonel Aubrey; "it will remind us that we are in an enemy's country, and must take every precaution to guard against surprise."

Hardly had he finished speaking than the sounds of firing close by caused the little party to spring to arms again.

The next moment a figure was seen.

"Val, as I live!" exclaimed Harry, rushing forward. "Hi, Val, it's Harry and a lot of friends!"

"Look out for the enemy then," shouted Val, as he raised his rifle and fired.

"Deploy as skirmishers," said Colonel Aubrey.

The little party soon found itself engaged in beating off several sepoys, who had been in pursuit of Val.

Finding that friends had unexpectedly come to the rescue, they retreated, leaving one of their number dead on the ground.

Val was soon folded in his father's arms, and shaking hands warmly with Colonel Hutchinson, and exchanging greetings with the other Europeans.

"Now that's over, old boy," he said to Harry, "let me ask you how you are, and who is this?"

"Let me answer by asking you a question, "how's Dana?"

"Very bad."

"Not wounded, Val?"

"No. Sunstroke and fever; she's in the fakir's cave."

"I am so glad; and how's all the others, Val?"

"As well as can be expected. Clarence and Fitzmaurice are both wounded, and we've lost several in a desperate affair."

"Another attack since I left, I suppose?"

"Yes, beat all the others into fits, Harry. Sprang a mine on us, blew up a portion of the stockade. We fought like demons, regular hand-to-hand work, the sepoys and the servants behaved splendidly."

"Is the garrison safe for the present, Val? Hadn't we better get in to their help?"

"The place is too closely invested to manage that by day; wait till night. I had to get Dana out last night; was seen while out searching for food just now, and chased; but where did you pick up that odd creature?"

"She's a princess, Val," said Harry, somewhat proudly."

"Come, come, old chum, draw it mild," was the sarcastic reply, "A what?"

"A princess, old boy; let me introduce you. Her father is Runjeet Singh, a friend of my uncle; she saved my life, and I saved hers."

"One good turn deserves another. Case of spoons, I suppose?"

"Well, she does love me, Val; but let me introduce you."

"What are you to do when introduced to a princess in a monkey's dress?" asked Val, in perplexity.

"Why, shake hands; she's an awfully jolly girl, full of fun and mischief, and as brave as a lioness."

The pair were introduced, and then Yunacka appeared, and came in for his share of notice, as did Azraal also.

A council of war was held, and Val gave his opinion about the advisability of deferring action against the enemy until night closed in.

"We can find shelter in the fakir's cave," he remarked; "if we are attacked while there we can defend ourselves, the only drawback is that the inner cave is infested by large serpents."

"I can vouch for that," said Harry; "but serpents are not so deadly as sepoys."

It was decided to proceed to the cave at once.

"Perhaps Yunacka can get in to the garrison with a note," Harry remarked.

The suggestion was a happy one, and received consideration.

CHAPTER XLIV

Having determined upon the course of action, the party made its way to the cave in skirmishing order, determined not to be taken by surprise.

If the garrison only knew of the gallant little band which was approaching to its aid, rejoicing hearts would be the result.

Before reaching the cave the sound of an elephant trumpeting reached them.

"It's my rogue of an elephant," said Zoola. "I believe he is up to some mischief again; see there he is. What's his name, captain?" This to Redwood.

"Mallea," was the reply.

"Down, Mallea, down," said Zoola, running towards the huge beast, which, strange to say, obeyed the command, allowing her to ascend and seat herself upon his neck.

At this instant another elephant, guided by a proper mahout, came into view.

It belonged to the mutineers, and the driver had brought it out to give it an opportunity to gather food for itself.

Mallea trumpeted out a challenge, which the other responded to by a shriller noise, and both having suddenly made up their minds for an encounter, advanced to the attack.

Harry was horror-stricken at the danger which threatened Zoola, whilst Hassan was in a little better state, having in view the promise he had made to her father, to restore her to his arms again.

"Zoola, drop down," shouted Harry, a request that was seconded by all his companions, who were alarmed for her safety.

But she only laughed and urged the huge brute forward. The mahout, however, endeavoured to turn his elephant aside, but the animal would not obey him.

With trunks and tails aloft the elephants shuffled up to each other with considerable speed, after their unwieldy fashion, trumpeting in mutual defiance.

This is the ordinary attitude of attack of the elephant.

He puts his trunk up perpendicularly, in order that it may be out of harm's way.

His tail is similarly raised from excitement; his trumpeting consists of a series of quick blasts between roars and grunts.

The sound of their huge heads coming into violent collision might have been heard at the distance at nearly half-a-mile.

Having struck their first blow, both elephants now set themselves vigorously to push against each other with their foreheads.

"Heavens!" exclaimed Harry, "she will fall. Her life will be sacrificed -- 'tis horrible! Oh, Zoola! she is lost --lost!"

The lad's anguish was indescribable.

To see the beautiful girl stamped beneath the feet of the huge beast, crushed out of all semblance to humanity, was a prospect enough to fill one with horror.

But the danger was not so great as might have been anticipated, for both trunks were still elevated, and their tusks interlaced.

Push, push!

Shove, shove!

These were the tactics observed by the antagonists in their combat.

Zoola and the mahout became so excited that they shouted their encouragements, and endeavoured to incite their chargers to victory.

It was a spectacle to engage one's whole attention, and to send the blood coursing through one's veins.

Mallea and his foe kept pushing for a time without victory inclining to either; but at length the former began to gain the advantage.

The fore leg of his antagonist was raised, and it soon became evident, that it was not to advance, but to retreat.

With a sudden leap backwards, the vanquished beast tore himself from his antagonist, and fled; but unluckily the mahout fell right before the infuriated Mallea, whose eyes were full of wild fury.

There was just time to see that the man had fallen, when the huge foot of the elephant was placed upon his chest.

There was a cry of horror, as the cracking of bone was heard, and the body of man was crushed into a shapeless mass!

The enraged animal, still keeping his foot on the man's chest, seized one arm with his trunk, and tore it from the body.

By this time Zoola was safe by Harry's side, she having scrambled over the beast's back down his tail to the ground.

"Isn't it horrible?" she whispered, as the severed arm was hurled high up into the air.

The still enraged elephant rushed after its retreating foe, trumpeting aloud.

A number of irregular cavalry, belonging to Custonjee's force, suddenly made their appearance, and opened fire, which was quickly replied to, the result being nil on either side, owing to the sowars beating a too hasty retreat.

"Let us push on as fast as we can," said Colonel Hutchinson. "We may be taken in ambush, and cut to pieces. The cave is our safest resort."

The cave was reached, and while Harry was kneeling by Dana's side, talking to her in affectionate whispers, his uncle, together with Val's father, were engaged in attending to measures of defence.

"Is this Yunacka?" Dana asked -- she having recovered from her delirium, which, however, had left her very weak -- on catching sight of Zoola.

"No, Dana; it's Zoola, a young friend of mine; a princess, the daughter of a friend of my uncle's."

"Won't you kiss me, Zoola? What a pretty name," said Dana, as she held out her hand.

"I will. You are Harry's friend; that is enough for me," Zoola replied, as she stooped and kissed the beautiful English girl, adding -- "I hope you will soon be better."

"Is Val all right?" she asked.

"Yes; we have six Europeans more come to help us, Dana."

"Surely that's the sound of firing, Harry," said Dana. "Quick! give me my rifle and belt. I must be up and doing. The enemy's upon us again!"

The brave girl tried to spring from her couch of sweet grass, but sank back with a sigh of weakness.

"Zoola will attend to you, Dana," said Harry. "Heaven bless you both."

He hurried to the mouth of the cave, and then passed out to join his comrades, who were concealed in bushes and behind trees, keeping up a brisk fire on Custonjee's men.

Some of the bullets made their way into the cave and flattened themselves against the rocky sides, but without endangering the safety of Dana or her companion, who were securely located in a corner where such missiles could not reach them.

Custonjee seemed resolved on this occasion to spare no effort to score a victory.

He was well aware that the accession in strength to the garrison of half-a-dozen Englishmen was morally worth a great deal more than the actual numbers represented.

This determined him to prevent the newcomers joining the garrison, which was holding out a great deal longer than he had imagined it would be able to do.

His losses had been severe, and he was afraid that in the end he would have to retire, unless he could infuse new courage into his men.

They had expected an easy victory, and plenty of loot at the finish, and were disappointed.

Harry was lying down near his uncle, firing away at the sepoys, when the former said --

"What a pity it is the garrison does not make a sortie now; it would punish the rebels, and cause them to withdraw their attentions from us."

"Mr. Fitzmaurice would do anything to help us, if he only knew."

"I'm sure he would," Harry replied. "Don't you think he would. Val?"

His chum was lying next to him, and on hearing the question replied promptly --

"He's the best fellow in the world, and would indeed help us in any way. Where is Yunacka? He might be useful on such an errand."

The wild boy had gone off with Azraal somewhere.

"I think I can manage either to convey, or have conveyed, the necessary information to the garrison," said Val.

"I don't want to interfere," said Harry, laughing, and running his eye along the barrel of his rifle.

Crack!

"Splendid!" shouted Val, as a sepoy sprang a couple of feet into the air, shot dead, through the heart. "Now I'm off. Keep them at bay as long as you can."

Stooping, he ran along and got through the mouth of the cave uninjured.

"Dana, how are you now?" he asked, as soon as he reached her side. "Better, I hope."

"Yes, Val; but isn't it cruel to be mewed up here unable to tire a shot, at a time like this? Zoola is with me, or I'm sure I should go mad."

"May I have your rifle, Dana, and go and join Harry?" Zoola asked. "Not that I want to leave you, but it seems wrong to let the men beat us in acts of bravery."

Before a reply could be made to this the fakir entered from the inner cave, followed by his escort, with the addition of several snakes, which hissed at the intruders.

A word from him, however, pacified the venomous creatures.

"What is this?" he asked sternly. "Why is the sanctity of my house interfered with?"

"Ask the ruffians who are carrying murder and plunder through this fair region," said Val. "But let me warn you, there's danger where you're standing. You're in the line of fire."

"Death has no terrors for me," said the fakir. "I have sought it in the haunts of men, and of wild beasts, but it has not come, although I have often prayed for it."

"Holy father," said Val, "time presses. The hand of an implacable enemy is at our throat. We must shake it off, or it will strangle us. Will you help us?"

"My inclination and my duty favour your request. Speak!"

"If Mr. Fitzmaurice knew of our predicament he would try to help us. Can you assist me to convey a message to him?"

"I can; I will. Come!"

He led the way towards the inner cave.

But Val held back, saying --

"That way leads nowhere, holy father."

"Come!" was the laconic reply, as staff in hand, the fakir walked to a niche and took therefrom a torch, which he lit, and then preceded Val, the rear being brought up by the weird escort.

When the pair had disappeared, Zoola said in a whisper --

"Was it right for your friend to trust himself with that strange-looking man?"

"Yes, dear Zoola; he could not be in safer hands."

Yet Zoola was glad, despite this assurance, that Harry was not in the company of such a queer lot as the fakir and his escort.

CHAPTER XLV

Val found himself in the infernal regions, as he thought.

There was such a hissing, such a rustling of scaly masses, and certainly he distinctly saw huge serpents peering out of chasms, and smaller snakes gliding about by the score.

"It's the cave of serpents!" he thought, with a shudder, as he kept close to his eccentric guide. "I almost wish I had not come here."

Nor was he to blame for saying this, or did it evince cowardice on his part, for nobody in their senses would care to walk quietly through a labyrinth of serpents, some hissing from holes in the roof, and others gliding from under one's feet.

The fakir, whilst walking through this uncanny subterranean passage, chanted a dirge-like chant, which seemed to have a quieting effect upon the scaly monsters.

Probably, too, the light from the torch had something to do with the peaceful attitude of the serpents.

At all events, some potent or mysterious power seemed to be at work to quell and almost subdue the natural instincts of these venomous reptiles.

Nervous though he was, yet Val could not help noticing how the sides and roof of the cave glittered, as if studded with gems.

Suddenly there came a halt, and Val saw before them a rocky wall, standing out from which was a gigantic figure, with one of the most diabolical faces he had ever seen depicted, whether in a painting or sculpture.

"Here's a pretty go," said Val. "There's no outlet; we must go back, I suppose."

The fakir looked at him calmly, and said --

"Twice have I passed through this mystic cave; the third time will be fatal to me."

Val was silent, not knowing what to say in reply.

His thoughts, however, were that this journey would be likely to prove fatal not only to the fakir but to himself.

One thing struck him now for the first time.

They were quite alone in this vaulted chamber, the escort having left them in some inexplicable way.

These matters, trivial though they were, occupied Val's attention, but not to the exclusion of more momentous ones.

He looked anxiously at the fakir, who stood as if suddenly turned into stone, the only signs of life being in the movement of his thin, dry lips, which were as bloodless as those of a corpse.

Shaking him gently, Val said --

"Holy father, time presses. Let us hasten forward."

It seemed mockery to suggest such a thing as going forward with that wall of rock and that demon-like figure barring the way.

"Look, boy! Does it smile? Your eyes are younger than mine," said the fakir, holding the torch aloft, as if he had suddenly awakened to life again.

"Has he gone mad?" thought Val. "As if a chiselled face could smile!"

Yet he mechanically looked up at the gigantic piece of sculpture.

"Yes! -- no!" he exclaimed in breathless astonishment. "It does! -- yes, it smiles!"

He stopped not to think that perhaps the uplifted torch might have given the expression to the face of the figure.

"It is well," issued from the lips of the fanatic. "Heaven is propitious."

"I'm glad to hear it," Val was on the point of saying.

But he checked it, as it might appear like levity on his part.

Reaching forward his right hand, the fakir pressed against a protuberance -- something metallic, so far as Val could see -- when the figure began to revolve.

As soon as this commenced, music floated through the place, the sounds of which were so ravishing that Val listened with rapt attention.

"Pass through," said the fakir harshly, gripping Val's arm until he winced with the pain. "To listen long would be to die. Such music is not for mortals. Come!"

Val saw a gleam of light, and an aperture large enough to admit a human body passing through it, and walked through, followed by the fakir, who just managed to get clear, when the aperture closed with a loud noise.

"Another moment and I'd have been with Bramah," said the fakir.

"A miss is as good as a mile," thought Val, who breathed more freely.

The light seemed to come from above through an opening in the earth, and he waited somewhat impatiently for the fakir to enlighten him upon the matter.

Looking back, not a sign of any opening was visible.

"Yonder is the light of day," said the fakir. "Let us ascend, and drink in the warmth of the glorious sun. We have escaped from the very jaws of death itself; be thankful."

"It would take a lot to make me face that fearful place again," thought Val, as he followed the fakir, who had thrown down his torch, and was clambering up through an opening.

Up they went, catching at the gnarled roots of a tree until they emerged through the hollow bole and found themselves above ground again.

The sound of firing rang in their ears, and a dozen yards off was a wild cheetah drinking the blood of a deer.

"Yonder is your way," said the fakir, pointing to the bamboo thicket, which flanked the principal entrance to the garrison.

"Will you tell them I am safe, when you return?" said Val.

"Yes. You are a brave boy, and deserving of Heaven's blessing."

"And you, holy father, have earned our thanks for your kindness. I hope to be able to repay you some day. Farewell."

Rushing away, he reached the thicket, and suddenly found himself in the hands of half-a-dozen sepoys, who were under the command of Custonjee himself.

Before Val could utter a cry, or use his weapons, he was thrown to the ground, pinioned and gagged.

All this had taken place within hearing of Val's friends.

This was more galling than anything that had hitherto happened to the boy, who had not only come on a bootless errand, but had fallen into the hands of the enemy, who would not be likely to allow him to escape in a hurry, and who probably would not care to retain him as a prisoner, but would put him to death.

"Keep quiet, and no harm will befall you," said Custonjee.

"I'm quiet enough, I should think," was Val's thought.

It struck Val too that this was an ambush prepared for the Europeans in the cave should they attempt to throw themselves into the garrison that night.

Custonjee and his men must have lost no time in leaving the neighbourhood of the cave to take up their present position, for Val was positive the old major had been there leading the attack in person.

What could he do? Was he to lay there like a log, and not be able to tell his comrades of the forms lurking in ambush?

He thought, too, how careless the garrison must have been to allow the rebels to ensconce themselves in the thicket, forgetting that this was not a difficult matter to do, as it could be approached pretty secretly.

Suddenly there was a rustling in the thicket; the sepoys clutched their bayonets fiercely, for they dared not use firearms.

It was Yunacka, who looked sharply round, and, evidently not liking the appearance of things, vanished as suddenly as he had come upon the scene.

Val listened for any remarks that might be made on this little episode, but was disappointed; Custonjee and his men did not care about using their voices any more than they cared to attract attention by firing.

Yunacka might have seen him, and would make known his plight to the garrison, and on this probability he based his hope of safety.

CHAPTER XLVI

Meanwhile the very thing that Val had striven so gallantly to accomplish had been brought about.

Mallea, it will be remembered, chased his unwieldy foe, trying to overtake him, while he, poor brute, knowing what was in store for him if overtaken, made his way through the leafy glades, and at last wheeling suddenly to the right, made his way back to the rebel camp, from where he came that morning.

Mallea followed, nor ceased pursuing until the camp was reached.

Here the defeated elephant found an ally in his mate, and both turned upon Mallea, when a desperate combat ensued.

Men fled before the infuriated beasts, and the camp was quickly deserted, save by the wounded, who lay helplessly looking at this war of Titans, not knowing the moment when the huge beasts might trample them to death.

Field pieces were overturned, stacks of arms thrown down and ammunition waggons injured.

Up to this point the wounded men had escaped injury; but now they cried out frantically for help, for the elephants were nearing them, not intentionally certainly, but nearing them nevertheless.

They might as well have called to the dumb earth as to their comrades, who were flying through the jungle. Some of the wounded sepoys could sit up, but further than this were quite helpless.

Their terror-laden eyes seemed to start from their sockets as they saw the elephants approach nearer and nearer, and heard the screams of rage which the combatants emitted in their fury.

One poor unfortunate could just crawl away from the spot and hide behind a tree.

At last the moment came.

With shrieks that startled the elephants themselves, so piercing, so full of agony were they, the rebel wounded were trampled into indistinguishable masses.

Fitzmaurice had seen through his field glasses the fleeing mutineers, and imagined that relief was approaching.

But still he was at a loss to account for the absence of firing.

Sending Golob and a file of men out, they soon returned with the startling news that the enemy's camp was deserted.

"But for what reason?" their chief asked. "Why is it deserted?"

"Elephants have been fighting, sir," Golob replied. "A dozen or more poor wretches have been trampled to death. One elephant, too, is dead -- a great gash in his breast."

"Assemble all your men, Golob. We'll make a sortie in force and bring in the guns," said Fitzmaurice, who could hardly believe that the enemy should fall such an easy prey without there being occasion to fire a shot.

The men were soon assembled, and started under the leadership of Fitzmaurice, the garrison being left practically undefended.

This was a great oversight on the part of Fitzmaurice. but he was so excited at the prospect of putting an end to the ruinous conflict that he forgot to be prudent.

Besides, he took it for granted that the rebels had taken to flight en masse, and would never think of turning the tables by taking possession of the garrison.

Yunacka had returned, which led Fitzmaurice to suppose that Harry and Hassan were on their way with reinforcements, before which the rebels had fled.

The rapid advance of the party under Fitzmaurice was not interfered with.

Custonjee placed his hand on the arm of the man nearest him, and whispered --

"Pass the word for silence."

Not a sound proclaimed the fact that in the thicket there lay in ambush one ready to take advantage of the event which was then happening under his very eyes.

Val listened to the tramp, tramp of his departing comrades, and felt bitterly his inability to join them.

"Collect all the men you can and bring them here," Custonjee said in a hurried whisper; "and the place will soon be ours."

Only half-a-dozen men had been left in the garrison to look after the sick and wounded.

These were under command of Doctor O'Shaughnessy, who sat on the housetop smoking his pipe, and keeping a look-out in the distance, hoping to see the approach of reinforcements.

The bamboo thicket screened what was passing in that direction, or he must have seen men running swiftly and silently in twos and threes.

Soon fully fifty men were ready for the coup which the major intended making.

Just about the time that Fitzmaurice, after reconnoitring the rebel camp, marched his men in and took possession of it, Custonjee and his followers dashed into the precincts of the garrison, and after shooting and bayonetting the few poor fellows who had been left behind, took possession of the place.

Doctor O'Shaughnessy saw the attack and heard the cries of the wounded as they were being butchered in their beds, but dared not show himself for fear of sharing their fate.

If he stayed where he was he would be sure to be killed without mercy.

But how was he to escape?

He could not rush down the steps.

The only alternative was that he should jump down or let himself drop, and trust to the chapter of accidents to favour his escape.

No sooner had this idea presented itself to his mind than he put it into execution, and his dropped on his feet unhurt.

Rushing through the entrance, unobserved by the sepoys who were engaged in looting the place, he reached the thicket.

Here he found Val, whom he quickly released.

"Divil such a sight was ivir seen," said the doctor, who looked pale, and whose voice trembled. "Oh, Val, to hear the poor wounded fellows shriek for mercy and me not able to help them. Ochone! but it's my heart that's broke."

"We must clear out of this," said Val. "Not a moment is to be lost. Come on, doctor; follow me."

He had made up his mind to reach the cave if possible, as that spot promised to be safer than any other, for the present, at least, Custonjee having withdrawn his men from thence.

"Let me take a pull at the flask first," said the doctor, "I feel as shaky as a boiled owl, and as nervous as a cat."

A tot of brandy soon restored him, and he kept up with Val, and reached the cave out of breath, and full of the startling intelligence that the place which had held out so bravely, was now in the hands of the enemy.

The doctor's narrative was listened to with rapt attention by Colonel Aubrey and his companions, some of whom were slightly wounded in the recent skirmish.

"What is to be done?" asked Val.

"Mr. Fitzmaurice must be communicated with at all risks," said the colonel.

This was the unanimous opinion, but how it was to be done was the thing.

Custonjee was too experienced an officer not to throw out scouts to apprise him of the advance of Fitzmaurice's party, and any one passing from the cave to the rebel camp would be more than likely to fall in with these fellows.

The fakir would be suspected if seen going in that direction, and perhaps shot.

Zoola offered her services as a messenger, provided Yunacka would accompany her.

Harry wanted to undertake the adventure, but was overruled by his uncle.

Zoola would not be likely to incur the same risk, dressed in the garb of a monkey.

Hassan offered to accompany Zoola, and this was agreed to; but Yunacka was to go with them also.

Dana quite acquiesced in Zoola's offer being accepted; it was what she would have done herself had she been in the position to go.

One matter for thankfulness was that Dana had not been in the garrison when it was stormed by the mutineers.

If she had she might have been slain, for Custonjee was not always able to control the vicious propensities of his men.

It took but a few minutes for Zoola and Hassan to get ready.

Yunacka grinned with delight.

"Bedad, they'd make a pretty pair," remarked the doctor, as he bandaged up a man's wounded arm; "it's meeself that nivir saw a handsomer monkey-lady before; faix, I'd almost be afther marrying her meeself."

Harry took a tender farewell of Zoola, regretting that he could not go with her -- into the jaws of death perhaps.

CHAPTER XLVII

Zoola and the wild boy kept in front of Hassan.

No signs of a watchful enemy were to be seen for a while, but presently two men sprung from their ambush and seized Hassan, but did not interfere with his companions, who scampered off on all fours as if veritable monkeys.

"Ah, traitor!" hissed one of his captors in Hassan's ear; "you would warn your friends the Feringhees, would you?"

"What is the meaning of this roughness? Unhand me!" said Hassan. "Have you no eyes? Do you not see that I am your own cousin?"

"Cousin! Would you have me own you, of all men?" his captor hissed. "Goroob has returned and has told us all."

Other scouts now came up, and Hassan was secured, gagged, and apparently given up hopelessly to destruction.

"Let's make a target of the traitor with our knives," said the man whom Hassan had claimed as a cousin. "If Goroob was here he'd soon commence the fun. Ah! here he comes!"

The giant came forward, limping, and with his left arm in a sling.

On seeing whom they had captured he gave a diabolical grin, and said hoarsely --

"Ho, ho! my friend of princes, and my prince of traitors, so you are caught at last! Where are your European friends now? We have got their boasted stronghold at last."

He had been drinking freely, which augured bad for the unfortunate Hassan.

Hassan's cousin suggested stabbing him, but Goroob scoffed at the idea, remarking --

"That would be too merciful a death; burn him alive; sacrifice him to the gods; come, look alive, lads; gather sticks and dry grass. I have a flint and steel in my pocket. His English friends will be welcome to him when we have done with him."

While preparations for this diabolical deed were going on, Zoola and Yunacka hastened forward in search of the English commander.

A busy scene presented itself to the gaze of the princess.

Arms were being collected, and ammunition gathered together by the natives, while the Europeans and Golob, together with some of the loyal sepoys, kept a sharp look-out against a surprise.

Zoola singled out Fitzmaurice, and at once addressed him, saying --

"I am a friend of Harry's, and like the English. I know Dana too, now. Are you the white rajah?"

"And who may you be?" asked Fitzmaurice. "I've never seen a girl in so strange a garb before."

"I'm Zoola; but never mind who I am. The sepoys have taken possession of your place. Several Europeans are at the cave, and Hassan is a prisoner not far from here."

"Impossible! taken the garrison by surprise. Heavens, if this be true the doctor and all the others are murdered, I'm afraid. Clarence, Golob, come here."

In a few words he told them of the report Zoola had brought.

"What can we do?" asked Fitzmaurice.

"Please help Hassan first," pleaded Zoola.

"Can you lead Golob and some of his men to where you saw him last?"

Zoola replied in the affirmative, and was soon on her way.

The sharp reports of muskets soon began to ring through the solitary glades, when the contending skirmishers caught sight of each other.

Regardless of danger, Zoola rushed forward, and would have fallen into the hands of Goroob, if Yunacka, who had ascended a tree, had not arrested her in time.

She heard the monster taunting the unfortunate Hassan with the fate in store for him, and longed to rush from her concealment behind the tree-trunk and shoot him, but she was unarmed. "You think your friends will save you!" he hiccoughed. "That's them firing, I suppose. See, I've only to light the grass, and you will soon be all ablaze. What a pity you're not a little fatter."

Apparently Goroob disregarded his own danger, in the delight which it afforded him to mock at his victim.

"Goroob, come away!" shouted one of his friends; "the enemy is upon you."

"A fig for your Europeans," he said; "I want to make Hassan comfortable before I leave him. Ha! ha! the ants are biting him. Ho, ho! Why don't you laugh?"

Hassan was enduring torture from the bites of a colony of ants, infesting the tree to which he was bound.

Goroob was about to light the heap of inflammable materials, when Yunacka sprang from the tree, right a-top of him, and he fell to the earth.

Yunacka rushed towards Hassan and soon had him free; the light had fallen and ignited the leaves, the flames setting fire to Goroob's clothing.

Yunacka and Hassan got away, and Goroob rose to his feet and rushed off.

Hardly had he gone twenty yards than he met a large tiger face to face; the brute snarled but did not touch him, being afraid of the fire; in his agony Goroob kicked the savage monster, which drew aside like a beaten hound.

The giant fled into the jungle in his agony, and dropped from pain close by the cave where Harry and his companions awaited with anxiety.

Within the hour both parties had joined, and a council was held.

"What do you think of retreating on Delhi?" said Harry. "We are free to move about now."

This was met with opposition from Fitzmaurice and others.

"I cannot leave my home in the hands of the miscreants," he observed ; "but of course, there is no reason why others should remain. All those who wish it are at liberty, of course, to retire upon Delhi."

The Europeans decided that it was their duty to stand by Fitzmaurice, and the natives were of the same mind.

Colonel Hutchinson had a somewhat lengthy and private conversation with Fitzmaurice.

"Not a word of this to Harry at present," said the latter; "it will do no good to tell him the truth just now. Let us see our way out of our present difficulties first, and then let justice be done."

Meanwhile, a terrible scene was being enacted in the cave, into which Goroob had crawled, suffering from severe burns, and almost demented.

The fakir spoke to him kindly, but he repulsed him, crying --

"The Feringhees, the Feringhees; where are they? My sword shall drink their blood like water!"

"Peace, my son," was the grave reply. "Heaven is peace. Why should man insult the Deity with war and cruelty?"

"Prate not to me, but give me drink," said the giant. "Drink, man, I say, if you value your life."

"Water is my drink. Outside you will find plenty. Strong drink takes away man's strength."

Looking round, Goroob espied the inner cave, and said, with a chuckle --

"Bah! preach to old women about water. I like brandy, and plenty of it. You keep it in there, I daresay, you old hypocrite."

"Forbear, rash man -- beware! You go to certain death if you enter there."

Goroob, mad to procure strong drink, sprang forward and entered the dark chamber.

"You've some Feringhee hidden here," the fellow muttered, as he stumbled onwards, regardless of the loud hiss which greeted him.

"Come back," cried the fakir; "or Heaven have mercy on your soul!"

"Ah! you're afraid I'll find your hoard, are you?" laughed Goroob.

Then he added --

"Let me go. You won't, won't you?"

This was followed by shrieks as the wretched man found himself, for the second time in his life, in the deadly folds of a boa constrictor.

In his madness he cursed, and he tore with his right hand, while it was disengaged, at the fleshy coils that tightened about him, his cries echoing throughout the cavern.

The fakir was powerless to help the wretch, who had brought his fate upon himself.

Goroob, being a powerful man, was not easily crushed.

It would have been a mercy to shoot him dead, but no one was at hand to do this office for him.

He was now to realise what it was to fall into the power of a creature even more pitiless than himself.

But death was near him -- nearer than he himself had any idea of.

A cobra struck its fangs deep into his flesh, and soon the deadly poison began to fill his veins.

In less than an hour he found a grave in the immense stomach of the boa constrictor.

CHAPTER XLVIII

Custonjee was now in actual possession of the stronghold with its treasures, which he had no doubt he would discover if even they were hidden away in some secret spot, as he suspected.

He could stand on the defensive for a couple of weeks at least, and then cut his way out with any spoils he might find.

He knew it would be war to the knife now the massacre of the sick and wounded by his men, an act he was sorry they had committed, left no way open for the observance of the amenities of civilised warfare.

"Lutchman," he said gravely, "this (pointing to the dead bodies) means no more prisoners on either side; have you thought of that?"

"I have, major; it's war to the death now. Perhaps it is best, it will sooner end. I am looking up supplies. The ammunition is not over plentiful, and food is running short. We shall put our fellows on short rations."

"All the better; they'll fight the better. I hope there's a supply of English brandy, Lutchman?"

"Yes, major. Would you like a little now?"

"I should. Mind, that's all to be kept for us, every drop. It's fit for officers only, Lutchman; in fact, I think only majors should indulge in it; lieutenants ought to be satisfied with arrack" (a drink distilled from rice).

The old fellow was fond of the good things of this life, and partial to brandy.

Having partaken of his "drops," he ordered a parade of his men, and himself called over the muster roll.

Having finished this task, he harangued his followers in a short speech, pointing out the immense advantage which the possession of the defences gave them, and exhorting them to desperate valour in the event of the enemy assaulting the place.

"Remember, too," he added, "we are sure to receive reinforcements, in which case we shall have them between two fires. Be resolute, obey orders, and submit to privations even for the sake of the good cause."

About this time the scouts were driven in, and the siege commenced afresh, besieged and besiegers changing sides in an almost unexampled way.

Custonjee was right in exhorting his men to act with increased bravery, inasmuch as they had a vigilant determined enemy to contend against.

Every inch of ground within the line of defences was known to the members of the former garrison; where the ammunition and provisions were stored, the weak points in the place.

There being only one well to procure water from was a fact which would not be lost sight of by them as might be readily supposed.

One great drawback which Fitzmaurice and the other Europeans sustained was in the lack of rifle ammunition.

Golob's rifle, too, was practically useless; but other supplies were plentiful, which somewhat counterbalanced matters.

Fitzmaurice sent a party forward under a flag of truce to ascertain the fate of the people he had left behind.

He had no doubt that all of them had been massacred, but he wished to place the matter beyond a doubt before proceeding, to measures of retaliation.

Custonjee met Golob and heard all he had to say, and then remarked --

"They have met the fate of all who take up arms against a superior foe. They are no more; dead, as you and I shall be some day."

"My question refers particularly to the sick and wounded." said Golob. "They surely have been spared?"

"They have died, I am sorry; they cannot be recalled to life."

"But can be avenged, and they shall! A terrible revenge will now be taken on you and your murderous crew."

"No more prisoners!" were the ominous words that went from mouth to mouth. "No more mercy."

"Cowards, murderers!" said Fitzmaurice, when Golob reported what had passed at the interview. "Did they not recollect how we spared their comrades when they were in our power? Golob, you promised vengeance; it shall be fulfilled to the very utmost!"

"Spare none! Slay, slay!" said Golob vengefully. "My wife's brother was among the wounded. Let the wretches look to it. Sahib, let them look to themselves!"

Sharpshooters were at once placed in positions from which the enemy could be harassed; and the well received particular attention.

And as the hours went by many a tongue in the garrison longed for a single drop of water to quench its burning thirst.

Custonjee more than half repented allowing himself to be mewed up with his men in such a restricted place, which he found was not half so strong as he had thought when he was attacking it.

His men were at work incessantly in trying to strengthen the defences, but the galling fire from the outside hindered them greatly.

The mutineers were picked off by ones and twos by the dead shots opposed to them, and great discontent began to prevail among the garrison.

At last a deputation waited on Custonjee.

The ringleader was a relative of his own, a mere youth, named Eyaba, and mutiny was the object of both the lad and his companions.

"Give us water," said Eyaba; "our tongues are cracked and blistered; we shall die."

"Is there not a well, Eyaba?" said the old man.

"Is there not death at the well, major?"

"It is everywhere, lad; you want drink you say. Come with me to the well. I will draw water for you; come."

Unheeding his refusal, and wishing to quell the rising spirit of insubordination by gentle means if possible, and by an example of courage, that would put the malcontents to shame, Custonjee took up a bheestie bag -- pig skin for carrying water -- and proceeded in the direction of the well.

It provoked a smile from many to see the old man shouldering this burden, and doing menial work as cheerfully as if the duty was of the most exalted kind.

It also won the hearts of many to see him thus facing death in discharge of a principle which meant --

"Never ask another to do that you would flinch from doing yourself."

Several men had been killed or desperately wounded in the undertaking the major was engaged in.

Harry had taken his turn at the spot commanding the well.

Nor did he flinch from inflicting death on wretches who had disgraced the name of men by murdering defenceless beings, who lay sick and wounded.

Strangely enough, his thoughts had dwelt much on Custonjee that morning; on the great kindness he had shown both to Dana and himself when in his power, and also on the protection he had extended to them.

Undoubtedly but for him they would have been murdered by the mutineers.

No one had ventured near the well whilst Harry had been watching.

But now some one toiled along, not trying to screen himself from observation in any way, but apparently courting death.

"Who can it be?" thought Harry, as he handled his unerring rifle.

CHAPTER XLXI

"He's a plucky old fellow," muttered Harry as he recognised Custonjee. "I don't like to shoot him, but yet I mustn't let him get the water. Halloa, he's filling the bag. I really don't like, and yet duty urges me not to spare him."

"I wonder who's in that tree now," Custonjee was thinking; "perhaps Harry or Val; it's a friend, whoever it is, or he would fire."

He offered a fair mark for the rifleman's bullet, and could have been shot easily.

His task was finished, though he found it anything but easy to draw up the heavy-buckets several times in succession ere the mussuck was filled.

It was the hardest work the stout old gentleman had done for many a day, and in his heart he promised a good jacketting to Eyaba, if he only managed to get back in safety.

He almost swore when he came to the getting the water bag on his back.

It was heavy, and when be first made the attempt the strap got round his neck and nearly strangled him, while it did wholly land him on the broad of his back in a pool of water.

Harry laughed, and shouted at the top of his voice --

"Major, you have got your match in that, eh?"

By a great effort the old fellow extricated himself, and as he mopped his forehead looked in the direction of Harry's post.

Nothing daunted, he made another attempt, this time succeeding in avoiding the mischance of the strap, but the bag, instead of resting on his back, slipped round in front of him.

Harry enjoyed the comical sight as the major endeavoured vainly to shift the burden from the front to the back, and from the trenches also came the sounds of suppressed laughter showing that the sepoys were alive to the comic side of their chief's situation.

Taking aim at the bag, Harry fired.

The major was unhurt, but the water was pouring from the mussuck in two streams where the bullet had penetrated.

"Good-bye, major," Harry shouted, as the portly gentleman waddled away.

"Don't let any of your men try it on," Harry added; "I spared you, but would shoot them like dogs."

"See what I've got for my pains all through you, Eyaba," said the major on his return; are you satisfied?"

"No, we want more food, and something to drink better than water, which Heaven knows is short enough," replied the mutinous youth. "Share the brandy with us; it will make us brave."

"Come," said Custonjee, "I will show you how to be brave without drink. We will make a sortie; fall in, men; remember, no prisoners are taken on either side. Cowards stand no chance now!"

He looked significantly at the youth who was not notorious for conspicuous bravery, and who now resolved to beard his superior.

"We don't intend doing any more fighting until we are paid," said Eyaba. "You promised us plenty of loot, and I did hope the English girl would fall to my share."

"Only the brave deserve the fair," said the major, trying hard to keep down his rising wrath for the sake of the youth's mother, "Fall in, men!"

"Men!" said Eyaba, thoroughly reckless, and mistaking his relative's good humour for weak forbearance, "we mustn't allow ourselves to be bullied; we're getting hard knocks and no pay; in Delhi things are different. Don't fight."

"Will you give the place up to the Europeans then, Eyaba? Do you know what you have done for us all?" asked Custonjee, with a look of contempt.

"What?" was the impudent reply.

"Cut off all chance of life being spared on either side by being the first to slay the sick and wounded. 'Twas a cowardly act, Eyaba, and a poor return for their having spared our prisoners, yourself among the number."

"Listen to him! Is he fit to command us? Why does he not join the white-faced dogs; if he feels so tender towards them."

"You will soon join your forefathers," said the old man as he drew a pistol from his belt and cocked it.

Quick as thought Eyaba levelled a weapon and pulled the trigger.

It missed fire, when Eyaba, with dastardly cowardice, threw himself flat upon the ground and bellowed for mercy.

"The enemy! the enemy!" shouted a score of voices, as a dark face peered over the stockade.

It was only Yunacka, who did not see why he shouldn't pay a visit to his accustomed haunt, where he had spent many a happy hour among the fruit trees, when war was unknown or undreamt of in those parts.

The next moment he was over the obstruction and making for his favourite guava tree.

"No prisoners," said the sepoy who stood near Custonjee, as he raised his musket to fire.

The major threw the fellow's arm up, and thus saved the wild boy's life.

"Shame! Don't you see who it is?" said Custonjee. "Keep your ammunition for men; yon is little better than a monkey."

Yunacka went fearlessly among the rebels.

Cruel as the sepoys were, they did not wish to shoot or harm him, especially as Custonjee objected to his being treated as a belligerent.

Eyaba had risen from his grovelling position, and was sitting up, looking very ill at ease, when Yunacka took a seat beside him.

It was an unlucky act on the lad's part. Eyaba first pushed and then struck him, thinking he had found a suitable object on which to vent his spleen.

Monkeys are rendered furious by blows, and as if Yunacka had this characteristic in common with his jungle playmates, he turned on the cowardly fellow, and made his teeth meet in the fleshy part of his arm.

He received a severe kick from Eyaba, when, snatching a loaded musket from one of the sepoys, he deliberately blew the fellow's brains out, and then fell on the quivering corpse with tooth and nail.

Such was the horror of the bystanders, that no one attempted to avenge the death of their comrade.

Yunacka, finding no resistance from Eyaba, left him, and with a series of bounds made for the stockade.

With a spring he was at the top, and in another moment would have been safe, when the sepoys treated him to a volley.

Two shots took effect, and tumbled him over, very seriously, though not mortally, wounded.

He fell, fortunately to the other side of the stockade, and lay there helplessly, with the blood flowing from his wounds.

Two animals approached him from opposite directions.

One was Azraal, his friend, the other a wild cheetah, allured to the spot no doubt by the scent of blood.

Yunacka held out his hand to Azraal, who licked it in token of affection.

The next instant it had flown at the throat of the strange animal, and a fierce fight ensued.

If Azraal lost the fight the wild boy's fate would be sealed.

He evidently felt this, for he fumbled for the pistol in his belt.

His eyes were becoming glazed from the loss of blood, but he conquered the weakness by a great effort, and raising himself on his elbow, watched for an opportunity and then fired; and only just in time, for the wild cheetah was standing victoriously over Azraal, ready to fasten its deadly fangs in its throat.

No human help was near to succour the wild boy, who stood a good chance of dying, unless his wounds were attended to.

Azraal caressed his friend, and then catching him tenderly by the belt, carried him in the direction of the English camp.

"Halloa! Azraal has a prisoner," said Val, on catching sight of the creature and its burden; "it's against orders, isn't it, Clarence?"

"It's Yunacka, I believe. Isn't it wonderful, Val? There's an act of friendship for you. It would put many a Christian to shame."

The beautiful creature laid its burden gently down at the feet of the youths, and looked up into their faces as if to say --

"I've done my duty by my friend, yours now begins; help him."

Dr. O'Shaughnessy was soon at Yunacka's side, attending to him as skilfully as if his life was as important as a king's.

"Ochone! my poor baste of a boy. It's nearly kilt ye are, and almost murdered alive. Begorra, it's meself that wishes I had the fellow that did this before me, and maybe I would bate him until he couldn't say his prayers for the want of a tooth in his ugly head."

Poor Zoola was much cast down at Yunacka's mishap; indeed it was surprising the amount of sympathy which the case called forth from everybody in camp, he was such a universal favourite.

A bed was made up for the sufferer, with her own hands, and she took upon herself the post of nurse to her poor favourite, whose life was hanging in the balance.

CHAPTER L

CHAPTER LI

News had reached them of the massacre of the ill-fated garrison at Cawnpore.

It was a terrible record of vile treachery, and taught every little stronghold holding Europeans that surrender meant butchery.

The prince came at last, and was saddened by the awful change that had taken place in Fitzmaurice's condition.

His sunken eves and hollow cheeks told of dissolution fast approaching.

The dying man's eyes questioned Arungzebe, whose face did not bear a hopeful expression.

"Surrender. Lay down your arms, and your entire force will be safely escorted to Delhi," said the prince.

The little crowd listened to these words of Runjet's princely envoy, and a scowl of defiance came upon each brow, which wrinkled with determination, and each hand grasped the weapon more firmly.

"Never," said Fitzmaurice, "never!"

Raising himself by a supreme effort, he exclaimed, in a voice which was supernaturally strong --

"Men, comrades, fight to the death, but never surrender. I am dying, but even when dead, my spirit will be in your midst, animating you to victory."

A cheer greeted these words, and a smile illumined the dying man's face.

"I leave you a precious charge, my daughter. Stand by your guns! England and St. George. Victory -- victory!"

With a faint cheer issuing from his white lips, and a last gleam from his closing eyes, he sank back -- dead!

Arungzebe was sent back with this defiant message to Runjet --

"Englishmen die, but never surrender!"

CHAPTER LII

There was no time for sorrow.

Dana dried her eyes, and closed her father's reverently, then left him to his rest.

The cannons were loaded with grape, spare muskets, each with a death-dealing bullet in their iron barrels, were placed here and there for men to snatch up in the hurry of the coming strife.

Zoola stood near Harry, looking up into his face tenderly.

"Harry."

"Yes, Zoola."

"Will it be war?"

"I'm afraid so, Zoola. Retire before it is too late."

"And leave you?"

"It would be better. Think of it. Your father fights in the ranks of the enemy. Your hand might strike him down."

"I will load your musket for you, Harry, and not fire myself. Do not send me away, my more than brother. I love you. Kiss me, Harry, and say you are not angry."

In the other camp, while she spoke, Runjet was listening to the message from the English commander.

"What of Zoola?" the rajah asked.

"She stays with the enemy."

The father bowed his head in silence.

Parental love struggled hard with duty.

If he returned to Delhi without striking a blow he would be eternally disgraced.

While on the other hand, in a conflict, Zoola, the apple of his eye, the one being he loved best, might perish.

Runjet hesitated how to decide, seeing which, the prince said --

"I have seen that lovely girl; she is my cousin. Her father is dead. Let her escape. Why should she die?"

"Ah!" said Runjet, as if the words offered a gleam of hope; I will go with you to the English camp, Arungzebe, and plead that the girls, who are as yet mere children, should be placed in safety, or even sent into the British lines before Delhi, while we fight the battle. Come, I will do this. Heaven grant me success."

Half-an-hour later the rajah, under a flag of truce, approached, and was met by Colonels Aubrey and Hutchinson.

"You have two girls with you." said Runjet. "Let them go out from your midst to a place of safety. We war with men. Do you approve?"

"It is for them to decide; they must speak for themselves," said Hutchinson, who at once went to fetch them.

"Zoola," said her father, "have you any love for me?"

"Oh, yes. I love you ever so dearly," she replied.

"Good. And would obey me with a loving obedience?"

She did not answer, but cast down her eyes.

"Leave this spot where death may soon be busy?"

"I cannot, unless my friend Dana here goes with me.

"What say you?" asked the rajah of Dana. "I swear that your life, your person, shall be safe."

"My father lies dead yonder," replied Dana, "He said 'no surrender!' You are answered."

With a reproachful glance at Zoola, the rajah left; but the prince did not offer to accompany him, considering that his parole was up, and that he was again a prisoner.

"You may go with him," said Hutchinson. "Your uncle, the noble man who lies dead wished it."

"I thank you; this is indeed a noble act," said Arungzebe.

"Act nobly yourself. When the time comes spare a defenceless enemy. Adieu!"

An hour later death was revelling in the jungle.

The place seemed literally alive with flame and smoke, that spoke of the doom of many a brave man.

Custonjee's men had joined Runjet, who had therefore a respectable force to lead to the assault, which he did right valiantly.

But behind the trenches were more valiant men still -- men who were resigned to die, but who resolved that they would not depart alone on that journey from which no man returns.

The cannon vomited forth death into the ranks of the assailants, as they tried to carry the place by storm.

Val, Harry, Clarence and Dana stood by the cannon, assisted by other Europeans, and poor little Zoola helped to carry cartridges, as unmoved by the presence of danger as if she was at play in her father's castle.

Yunacka laughed with glee as the cannon roared, and the musketry rattled, and bullets flew about like hail.

Propped against a tree the wild boy loaded his musket and fired from time to time, not at random, but with a true aim, that cost some of the assailants their lives.

Trampling over Custonjee's grave, came the dusky men, led by Runjet and his officers, right up to the very trenches, only to be hurled back by the brave and desperate defenders.

Reforming his men for a last desperate effort the rajah came on, sword in hand.

The nine-pounders were loaded almost to the muzzle with grape.

The wind blew aside the smoke, showing the attacking party with clearness.

"Harry, see, 'tis my father!" said Zoola, as the brave lad stood with the port-fire.

She placed her hands over her eyes.

Her father's stalwart form was in the line of fire.

"Merciful Heavens," she thought, as the thunder of the cannon sounded in her ears, "he has gone!"

She swayed to and fro like a willow bending under a storm, but did not fall.

Harry's supporting arm was around her, her head rested on his breast; the bullets whizzed about her, one of which cut off a dark tress, which, fluttering, fell to the ground.

Fiercely the contest continued; the trenche[s] were choked with dead as the assailants pressed on, urged forward by a single impulse --

To slay, to aid the horrid work of destruction.

The rajah, though badly wounded, kept to his post like a brave man, resolved to conquer or to die.

He knew his daughter was in the midst of this carnage -- knew that the missiles aimed at the defenders might strike her down.

But he did his duty, and sword in right hand, and his left pressed to his wounded side, led on his men again, his figure towering like an oak among larches.

Never was battle more stubbornly contested on both sides.

Val was lightly wounded, but in the excitement thought nothing of it; his blood was up, and he fought splendidly.

Dana proved herself a true Englishwoman, now fighting, anon tending the wounded, giving them water and assisting Dr. O'Shaughnessy, who, with sleeves tucked up, was performing his work like the noble fellow that he was.

"Bedad, it's warm work," he said, as he wiped the perspiration from his face; "those black devils know how to fight. I'll try a little fighting now for a change."

There was a lull in the battle at last; the enemy were discouraged, but not yet beaten.

Colonel Aubrey saw his opportunity.

"Now, men," he said, "give them a taste of the bayonet."

Placing himself at their head, they rushed out of the entrenchments with a wild cheer, and were soon stabbing right and left.

This decided the issue.

The battle was won!

Among the prisoners was the rajah himself.

CHAPTER LIII

When the muster roll was called, many brave fellows did not answer to their names. They had died a soldier's death, and done their duty nobly.

The dead were buried silently, while tears rolled down cheeks which bore marks of the recent sanguinary fray.

All the Englishmen of the party were alive; not because they had not exposed themselves, but simply that a Providence had been watching over them.

Poor Fitzmaurice had many companions to that bourne from whence no travellers return, all true men, who had not disgraced their manhood.

So enraged were the friendly sepoys, that they demanded the prisoners should be hung.

It was a ticklish time for the Europeans, who were in a fearful minority in this crisis.

Zoola was in sore distress.

Her father incurred the same risk as the others, as he was amongst the prisoners.

"Don't let them hurt him," she said pleadingly to Harry, whom she clung to in her despair.

Poor lad, his heart failed him as he listened to the clamours of the men who called aloud for vengeance.

Nor was their demand unjust, horrible as it might appear.

They remembered comrades butchered in cold blood, as they lay wounded in the bungalow.

Why should they not be avenged now that the opportunity offered itself?

The officers held council among themselves, and the men who demanded justice looked with eager eyes as they waited for the verdict, their faces grimed with powder and smoke, and bearing evidences about them of the gallant fight.

The enemy's dead were unburied, and lay in and near the trenches by the score.

Already birds of prey hovered in the air, waiting to gorge themselves on the corpses.

It was a sickening spectacle.

Various plans were suggested by members of the council.

"We can't prevent its being done if they insist upon it," remarked Colonel Hutchinson. "I really am at a loss what to advise."

Harry spoke next, and said --

"I am only a boy, and have no right to be heard when wise men are discussing so serious a question as that at issue, but if allowed I should like to make a suggestion."

"Speak, boy. We are only too happy to listen," said Colonel Aubrey. "You have earned the right to speak, having fought bravely."

"Why should all the prisoners die? Let lots be cast. There are twenty of them; fix upon the number to be offered up as a sacrifice to stop this clamour for blood."

"Well spoken, Harry, my boy! You have, in my opinion, solved the difficulty."

The matter was decided thus, but the rajah was not to be included in the number.

Five men were to be given up to appease the fury of those who demanded the sacrifice.

"Now, comrades," said Colonel Aubrey, addressing them calmly, "we have considered your demand, and deem it a just one."

Hoarse murmurs of approval greeted these words.

"But we do not see why all should die."

"All, all!" said several.

"Listen, comrades. Did we flinch in the hour of trial? Did we not stand shoulder to shoulder?"

This point was not contended -- not a man spoke. "And let me ask you, if we, as Englishmen, ought not to feel bitter against an enemy who have massacred our fellow-countrymen, outraged our women before slaying them, and impaled our children on the bayonet-point. This being the case, surely you ought to listen to us then?"

"It is true," said one of the men, acting as spokesman for the rest. "Say on."

"Let five die, and let that number suffice, but Runjet Singh is not to be included."

The rajah raised himself on his elbow, and said --

"If my men are to die, let me not be spared. I led them to battle, and am not afraid of death."

It was nobly spoken, and even his dusky foes murmured their admiration.

A pistol lay near him.

Snatching it up, and giving it to him, Zoola said --

"Father, die like a man. I will go with you!" at the same time holding a weapon to her own temple. "I will take time from you."

This incident was so startling that not a hand, nor a single voice, was raised in protest.

A look of determination came over the rajah's face. His finger was on the trigger.

He looked at his daughter with a loving glance. She stood with compressed lips, waiting for the signal.

His heart failed him.

She was his only child, his darling, and so young -- too young to die.

"No, I cannot do it," he said, with a deep groan.

The pistol dropped from his hand and he fainted.

"He is dead!" shrieked Zoola.

Another instant and she would have been a corpse. But Harry sprang forward and struck the pistol out of her hand, and saved her from committing suicide.

"This is dreadful," said Colonel Aubrey "Can nothing be done to stop it?"

Golob now spoke to his comrades, saying --

"Men, let us be merciful; let them live."

These words told upon his hearers.

"Let them live," was the verdict of the rest.

CHAPTER LIV

It was decided to remove the arms and ammunition to the other entrenched position, and to wait there a few days while scouts went out to reconnoitre, to ascertain whether the coast was clear.

If conveyances had been at hand a march on Delhi would have been the consequence.

But it was impossible to provide them under the circumstances, nor would any of the Englishmen hear of deserting their comrades who were sick and wounded, although Dr. O'Shaughnessy offered to remain in charge while the others went to Delhi.

The scouts went out and returned with the news that the country was still swarming with the enemy.

It was a ticklish time for the garrison.

Supplies of all kinds were getting short, especially ammunition.

Never had human beings been placed in a worse strait.

But they were determined to hold on to the last, and if necessary to die together.

Yunacka had escaped, and roamed about as usual, knowing neither fear nor danger.

In this emergency Runjet Singh came to the rescue most unexpectedly.

He had an interview with Colonel Hutchinson, and spoke to him as a man would to his brother.

"You cannot remain here," he said. "I have heard all from Zoola. What do you and your comrades intend doing?"

"Our duty," was the calm reply. "Starvation stares us in the face, but we must suffer in silence, and if needs be die."

"Gallant men should not be in such a strait. Will you listen to me? I have been an enemy, and am now a true friend, at least I wish to be such."

"I thank you; have you anything to propose?"

"Yes; but first of all I beg of you to trust me. You and your comrades have spared the lives of my daughter and of my men; I want to befriend you all."

"I do and will trust you."

"'Tis well. I will send a messenger for conveyances, and convey the sick and wounded, and all in fact, to my castle, where I pledge my honour you will be safe. When an opportunity occurs you can join your friends at Delhi."

"But why cannot we go to Delhi at once?"

"Because the country swarms with your enemies. I cannot risk getting you there just at present."

"I will lay your proposal before my comrades, and thank you, Runjet, for your manly offer which does you credit."

Colonel Hutchinson did so, and the matter was fully discussed.

"We cannot remain here," said Colonel Aubrey; "if we were not hampered with sick and wounded we might fight our way on to Delhi. In the cause of humanity I think we ought to accept the rajah's offer, that is if you believe he can be trusted."

"I would stake my life on his honesty," said Harry. "We were in his power, myself and my uncle, and he saved us."

"But in accepting his offer we may draw destruction upon him as well as upon ourselves," said Clarence. "If Dana and Zoola were in a place of safety, I would not care for ourselves; their safety ought to be our first consideration."

"Well spoken," said Captain Redwood, "I have thought seriously over the matter, and have something to propose."

"Say on, and may Heaven guide our counsels," said Colonel Aubrey, "for we want divine help in our troubles."

"Let Dana disguise herself and accompany two or three trusty people to Delhi. Zoola is safe enough; she can claim the protection of her father."

"Let Dana be consulted," said Val. "She is a brave, sensible girl, and ready to listen to reason."

She was called in, and the matter put to her by Colonel Aubrey.

"Why should I leave you who have proved true friends to me?" she asked. "If I must die, let me do so in the company of such brave, noble-hearted men."

"Women ought not to suffer. You are young, and life is before you, Dana," said Colonel Hutchinson. "We do not wish to part from you, but your safety is of paramount interest in our eyes."

Val now spoke up, saying --

"Listen to me, Dana. I love you truly, and would not part from you willingly; let Hassan and I see you safely to Delhi."

Harry was about to offer himself too, but he caught Zoola's imploring looks.

Her young heart was given to him, and she would prefer death to losing him.

On his part he loved her dearly, and was convinced that if Heaven spared them they would yet unite their fortunes.

"What say you, Dana?" asked Colonel Hutchinson. "We all wish it."

"But what will you and your comrades do, colonel?" she asked.

"The rajah has offered us shelter in his castle. If you reach Delhi you might bring us succour there."

"Then I will go," she said; "not because of my own safety, but to bring you all help."

The rajah was told of this, and he was grateful for the confidence reposed in him.

Sending for one of his men, who was a prisoner, he wrote instructions to the captain of his guard to send conveyances and provisions without delay.

The man started on his errand at once.

"Father," said Zoola, on hearing of his noble conduct, "I always loved you; now I worship you. You are indeed worthy of brave men's esteem."

"They have been kind to you, child?"

"Yes, indeed. I love Englishmen. I had always thought them enemies of our people, but was wrong; but one thing I must speak of. May I?"

"Yes."

"You know Harry Coverdale? Is he not a noble youth?"

"He is all that, my child."

"Do not be angry. I love him; he loves me. Without him I would die; he is not of my religion nor of my race, but I cannot help loving him."

The rajah was silent, he had other views for his child -- a matrimonial alliance that would place her in a proud position.

"Are you angry with me, my father?" she asked, kneeling and taking his hand.

"Not angry, Zoola; not angry, but sad."

"I do not wish to grieve you. I cannot help loving Harry. 'Tis fate, I suppose; and I cannot be sorry."

"I had other intentions if this unhappy war had not happened. You were to be affianced to a prince."

"Harry is my prince, father."

"You cannot help loving him, I admit; but can any happiness ensue? Your religion is different."

"Love with me is stronger than any consideration you can put before me."

"I am answered; but before you say more, or I decide, let Colonel Hutchinson be consulted, he is the lad's uncle and guardian."

"I will fetch him," she answered, with the light-o'-love in her beautiful eyes as she sped away.

"You have sent for me, Runjet. I am here," said the colonel.

Zoola had not returned with him from motives of delicacy.

She was better employed with Harry -- in looking into his eyes, in caressing him -- as they sat under the shade of a mango tree.

"Hutchinson," said the rajah, "Heaven knows how I care for you, but I am called upon to make a bitter sacrifice for the sake of one very dear to you."

The colonel was silent.

"Harry Coverdale is your nephew?"

"Yes ; I am proud of him."

"As you have every right to be. He loves my daughter, who to me is dearer than life itself."

"He is worthy of her love. I hope he returns it?"

"He does."

"What do you wish?"

"Your advice. Zoola says she cannot be happy without him."

"You are opposed to her loving him then?"

"To a certain extent, yes. They are not of the same race or creed. I had other views for her."

"They are only boy and girl; let time test their love. Opposition will do no good, believe me."

"I suppose you are right, colonel. Let them be called and be betrothed in our presence. May Heaven give none of us cause to repent the step we are now about to take."

Colonel Hutchinson found the pair, and said to Harry --

"You rogue, what have you been doing?"

"Me, uncle? nothing."

"Do you love Zoola? And would you in course of time like to make her your wife?"

This conversation was carried on in Hindostanee, and before Harry could reply Zoola said --

"Of course he does. If he didn't love me I'd break my heart. Harry, you love me, don't you?"

"Very, very dearly," he answered as he kissed her.

This settled the matter. The pair were solemnly betrothed in the presence of the rajah and Colonel Hutchinson.

CHAPTER LV

Dana and Val left the camp and proceeded on their way cautiously until they reached the confines of the village.

"We'd better reconnoitre this place before entering it," said Val. "It may be full of the enemy. Will you remain here while I go forward, Dana?"

"No, Val; we must not separate; it would not be wise; we have shared every danger together hitherto, let us still do so."

Having concealed their horses in a thicket, the fugitives approached the village just as day began to dawn.

The only street it possessed was deserted, a few mongrels being about, which snarled and yelped at them.

"This is lively," said Val, laughing.

"I shall be so glad of a rest. There's voices, let's be wary; this is no place to expect friends."

Hassan had evidently made a mistake in thinking the village inhabited.

The scourge of war had passed over it, and the villagers had retired to make their humble homes in a safer spot.

The sounds came from a caravanserai (traveller's rest), a moderate-sized brick cottage. Having ascertained this fact, they were about to retire when several sepoys came out.

Dana had a string of gold beads about her neck, such as are worn by natives of rank and position.

The sight of this wealth excited the cupidity of these marauders, gangs of which were to be met with almost everywhere.

"Come along. Dana," said Val. "We must run for it."

They rushed down the street, and were fired upon by their pursuers, who, however, were too much under the influence of drink to take anything like good aim.

Our young friends reached the horses, and vaulted into the saddle, dashing away at a mad gallop with bent heads to avoid the bullets.

"We are safe from pursuit now," said Val, drawing rein. "Are we never to be out of danger?"

"It would appear not, Val. Let us get on again. I think a storm is approaching."

"All right, Dana, you are my commanding officer. A soaking isn't desirable by any means."

The sky was overcast.

Presently the thunder rattled and the lightning flashed.

Anon the clouds broke, and the rain descended, not in drops as in England, but in a regular deluge.

Dana and Val had found shelter under a large banyan-tree capable of affording shelter to a regiment.

Before they were aware of the fact they found themselves in the presence more natives seated at breakfast.

They seemed peaceably disposed, for they greeted the newcomers courteously, and invited them to partake of their hospitality.

The dishes smelt appetising, and Dana was hungry.

"Shall we or not, Val?" she asked.

"By all means," he replied.

It was a strange sight, this picnicing under a tree during the progress of a severe storm, and nowhere out of India could it have been witnessed.

In going to his seat Val noticed a very suspicious circumstance -- a newly-dug grave.

But he made no comment on it.

Such things were common enough when every man's hand was against his brother.

It might mean nothing wrong, but he resolved to keep his wits about him.

Delicious coffee, unleavened cakes, and other luxuries satisfied their appetites.

Sweatmeats and native drinks followed, and the storm having subsided, some of the company began to sing, accompanying themselves on a small drum or tom-tom.

Two of the company rose and approached Val and Dana from behind, Val sprang to his feet, pistol in hand, just in time. A few seconds more and they would have been strangled.

Without suspecting it they had accepted the hospitality of a band of thugs.

Robbery and murder under the guise of religion were their objects.

"We thank you for your hospitality, gentlemen," said Val ironically; "but we did not bargain to leave our bodies in yonder grave."

Dana had risen, and was now also on her guard.

It was a ticklish moment.

The thugs outnumbered them, and no doubt carried concealed arms.

At this juncture half a troop of cavalry rode by, headed by an Englishman.

It was Captain Hodson of the corps of guides, the finest cavalry officer in the service, and a splendid fellow to boot.

"Stop, sir!" Val shouted.

"Who calls?" asked Hodson, halting his men.

"I, an English boy, Valentine Aubrey. We are in the hands of murderers, I am afraid."

The thugs did not wait for anything further but fled.

Val explained everything to the gallant officer, who observed --

"What has become of the garrison? I came out in the hope of hearing something about them. Is the enemy about?"

"Our comrades intend leaving for the castle of Runjet Singh," Val replied; "perhaps they are on their way there now. I have not seen many of the enemy, but have heard that they are in ambush somewhere in strong force."

He was extremely kind to both Val and Dana, who were now under his charge, and therefore comparatively safe.

On their way back to Delhi they picked up Hassan, who gave the welcome intelligence of the convoy being en route to the garrison.

"There is a lot of lootwallahs (robbers) encamped not far from here, sahib," Hassan said to Hodson; you can surprise them if you wish."

"Do I not," he replied, showing his teeth; "let me only get the chance; lead on, my fine fellow."

Hassan acted as guide, and like a rush of the whirlwind the guides were among the enemy, cutting and slashing right and left, but few escaping.

A lot of useless booty was destroyed, and it was a welcome sound to our young friends when first they heard the thunder of British cannon, and came in sight of the rows of tents, which to them was indeed a haven of safety and rest.

CHAPTER LVI

Runjet and all our old friends were safely escorted to Delhi.

Val and Harry pleaded so hard to be allowed to take part in the subsequent events before Delhi, that they were appointed cadets in Hodson's corps of the guides, and valuable officers.

Dana and Zoola were sent up to the hill stations, there to await the end of the war.

Golob, as well as all the natives who had taken part in the gallant defence of the bungalow in the jungle, were well rewarded.

Hassan, being a young promising fellow, was given a commission.

Runjet Singh and his people remained faithful to the British, and did not suffer for their fidelity.

Poor Yunacka, who proved to be the rajah's lost son, and whose sojourn in the jungle for so many years, unaided by human agency, a companion of wild animals, survived for a few mouths, and was buried in the vast cemetery of the camp, regretted by all who knew him or had heard his story.

He would have accompanied his sister Zoola to the hill station, but was too ill to bear the journey.

When the war ended, and peace reigned throughout India once more, Val and Harry were united to the objects of their boyish loves.

Generals Aubrey and Hutchinson were present at the double wedding, as was the rajah and many of the defenders of the solitary bungalow.

The spot was visited, but the house never rebuilt.

A handsome obelisk of granite commemorated the gallant struggle, on which was inscribed many names, at the head of them being that of Gregory Fitzmaurice.

Clarence Fitzhugh rose to high rank in the Indian Civil Service, and both he, Doctor O'Shaughnessy, and Colonel Redwood are always welcome visitors at the houses of our heroes and heroines.

The fate of the fakir was never known.

He may have died in the solitary wilds, or been devoured by wild beasts.

It was supposed that he had entered the inner cave, and been hemmed in, as the entrance was blocked up by masses of rock which had fallen from the roof.

Yunacka's memory is held in esteem by his relatives and friends, and the rajah, when caressing his grandchildren, thinks with moistened eyes of his first-born, "The Wandering Boy of the Jungle."

THE END