Chapter XXII: The Ghoojurs

Meanwhile Harkins and Avery were in need of a counselor, guide and friend.

The first, as will be recalled, dropped from the limbs of the tree, where he had taken refuge when the runaway elephant caused the howdah to be scraped from his huge back.

The first act of the sportsman, after reaching the ground, was to take a look at the demolished structure lying at the side of the road.

"Howdy?" he exclaimed, with a laugh; "considered purely as a howdah you are now of little account. I had hard work to keep my rifle all through this flurry, but I believe it hasn't received one half the bruises that I have. Is that you, doctor?"

The surgeon came forward and the two shook hands, glad enough that the adventure had come to such a fortunate ending for themselves, though the main purpose for which it was undertaken had miscarried.

"We can't get back to the bungalow too soon," said Harkins; "the night is pretty well gone, and there seem to be plenty of the natives no matter in what direction we turn."

"Yes, and there are some of them coming this way," remarked the doctor, as they started southward.

"There are only two horsemen, and we needn't turn aside for them."

The natives came along at an easy gallop, and neither halted nor slackened their speed, as they identified one of the Europeans at least, through the dust raised by the animals.

They had not gone far, however, when they suddenly wheeled and let fly with a couple of carbines at the young men. The bullets passed close, and the astounded Harkins, instantly bringing his gun to his shoulder, returned the shot. He missed, probably confused by the dust and his own excitement.

The ruffians galloped off, but there was little doubt that they would return. The fugitives decided to keep to the highway a little longer, and despite the extreme heat, moved at the fastest possible walk. The strong moonlight was of great help, but they were alarmed by the sound of firing, which they feared meant an attack upon the bungalow. The sight of a crowd swarming around a carriage in the road told the awful story. The wretches were so absorbed in their scramble for plunder, that they paid no attention to the two figures, which, leaving the road, made a wide detour beyond them.

Coming back to the highway once more, they pressed on with the same haste, and in due time reached the bungalow, whose low thatched roof they recognized while yet some distance away.

They quickly found that no one was in or near it.

"I don't know whether this is a bad omen or not," said Avery, whose solicitude was distressing.

"I hope it means that they have withdrawn to a safe place," remarked the more hopeful Harkins.

"That may be, but how are we to find out?"

"We shall have to depend on Luchman to open communication, for it is out of our power to do it ourselves."

"Here is another of the dogs; be ready for him, Harkins, and shoot first."

"I guess I won't be in a hurry," laughed the other, who, suspecting from the first the identity of the stranger, now saw that it was Luchman himself, that native rightly believing that his friends would do their best to reach the bungalow where they had parted from the others.

A minute or two was enough for each party to reach an understanding.

There was no time to lose. Day was breaking, and the mutineers and budmashes were growing altogether too numerous for comfort. The guide, therefore, quickly led the way back to the jungle, which, dark as it was, was easily threaded by him.

His companions kept close behind, and they had not gone far before their leader stopped.

"I think this is the spot, sahib," he said in a voice which despite its gentleness showed a marked tremor.

"I don't see how you can know, when everything is so indistinct. Helloa, friends! Where are you?"

Guarded as was the call of Avery, it was loud enough to be heard by any one within a radius of a hundred feet, but the listening ears caught no response.

"Call again, sahib."

Avery did as requested, but with no more result than before.

"They have moved further into the jungle," suggested Harkins. "Let's follow them."

Luchman did not speak, but in the same stealthy fashion advanced fully two hundred yards, stopping several times and emitting a peculiar whistling sound, which any member of the missionary's family would have been quick to recognize had it been heard. Both Avery and Harkins also signaled and called so often that there could be only one reason for the failure of reply: their friends were beyond hearing.

"They are gone, sahib," said Luchman, "and I have no means of finding where they are."

He explained that the last words of the missionary when they parted on the edge of the jungle included his pledge that they would not leave the spot, unless compelled to do so by the approach of danger. As he had gone away, there could be no doubt therefore of the reason for such a step.

"But why should they have gone so far," asked Harkins, "when the jungle is dense and dark enough to afford all the concealment they could need? Had the wretches approached, our friends would have had to pick their way only a short distance when they would be as invisible as if in the very heart of the jungle."

"It looks as if they had overestimated the danger. Luchman, isn't this long night almost ended?"

By way of answer he pointed to the east, where the light of the rising sun was beginning to show itself. Darkness was fleeing from the earth.

"I am glad of that," said the distressed surgeon.

"And why?" asked Harkins.

"Our eyes will be of more service; Luchman will find out something about the family, for they must have left signs in the jungle that will give some clew."

The situation of the three may be described as being in a country cultivated by ryots or small farmers. In the distance could be seen the low huts of the native village, and the well from which the supply of water to irrigate the fields was drawn. The only people visible were a couple of villagers just starting out to begin their toil in the fields that stretched from their dwellings to the very border of the jungle.

The vegetation surrounding them displayed the prodigious exuberance which amazes the traveler who visits India for the first time. The jungle looked impenetrable, and would have closed about a regiment of men like the sea over a sinking ship, so that the wonder remained as to why the three Europeans left the cover, if indeed they had done so.

"There ought to be signs here," said Avery, addressing the guide, "that will help you. I have read that the American Indian will trail his foe over the prairie, mountain and forest, no matter how light his step, and the Hindoo ought to be able to do the same."

Had the latter received the special training of the aborigines of America, there could have been little doubt of his attaining the same wonderful keenness of the eye.

As it was, Luchman and his friends scrutinized the ground as closely as they could. They saw that the soil and undergrowth had been impressed by passing feet. There was no doubt, therefore, of the recent presence of their friends, but it was important to know whether others had also visited the spot.

It was impossible to answer that question, but the probabilities were that strangers had been there very recently.

This was an alarming conclusion, for it showed the natives must have found the place of concealment within a short time after the guide departed, a fact involving some occurrences that even Luchman could not explain.

There were no evidences of anything like a struggle, and he was sure he would have heard the firing of guns had there been any.

"Helloa! the mischief is to pay again!" exclaimed Harkins.

At the moment this expression was uttered the three had come back to the edge of the jungle. Avery and Luchman looked around to learn the cause of their friend's excitement.

Fully a dozen Ghoojurs were seen coming across the open field toward the spot where the trio were hunting for traces of their friends. The ragged party were straggling along on foot, without regard to any order, but they were abundantly armed with guns, swords, knives, and in one or two instances with spears.

It was impossible to imagine what brought them in that direction, and the fugitives had no time in which to discuss the question. That they were coming straight for them was evident, and unless the Feringhees retreated at once a fight was inevitable.

It would have been folly to wait, and the three, therefore, started back into the jungle, following the same line as the advance of the Ghoojurs themselves. Had our friends taken a second thought probably they would have turned to the right or left. Harkins was indiscreet enough to try to keep an eye on their pursuers while making the withdrawal.

Seeing his error, Luchman called sharply to him to hasten, but at that moment the sportsman was discovered, several of the Ghoojurs uttering shouts and breaking at once into a run toward the jungle.

There could have been little in the way of a race through the dense undergrowth, but the fugitives were following a faintly marked path, which allowed fair progress to the other side of the spur, as it may be called, of the jungle, beyond which lay the open country.

They had no more than fairly started when Harkins, who was at the rear, caught his foot in a wiry vine which threw him forward on his hands and knees. With an impatient exclamation he was instantly on his feet and running harder than ever.

It will be understood that each of the fugitives was capable of high speed. It is doubtful whether Luchman had his superior in all India, while the other two were athletes scarcely his inferiors in fleetness. In a fair race, they would have soon left the Ghoojurs out of sight, but the latter were more accustomed to making their way through such obstacles than the two Europeans, and they had the strongest of all incentives that such miscreants can have in a contest of the kind.

In a few minutes the woods became more open; they were nearing the other side of the spur of the jungle.

"Look out, sahib! they are going to fire!"

At the instant of uttering the warning, Luchman leaped behind a tree and the others did the same.

Several shots cut through the vegetation near them, and the Ghoojurs, seeing that the Feringhees were at bay, checked themselves when but a few rods separated them.

The surgeon saw the call for a little heroic treatment. Observing a dusky ruffian careless about exposing himself, he blazed away with his revolver. The intervening space was so short that he punctured the fellow in the leg, though unfortunately the wound was not severe. With a yell the victim went limping back out of range.

The opportune shot threw the Ghoojurs into a panic, which, however, was quickly over. Almost immediately they began what may be characterized as a double flank movement that was certain to be fatal to the fugitives, unless they resumed their flight without further pause.

The ruffians were not lacking in courage, if it can be called courageous for a dozen armed men to assail one fourth that number. They branched out to the right and left, like a fan, so that by pushing on and closing in they could quickly surround their victims and have them at their mercy.

But the latter did not stand still and allow themselves to be bagged in that fashion. Luchman saw the danger, and called to his friends to take to their heels again. They obeyed, the three making desperate haste toward the open country which was near at hand.

CHAPTER

THE RUINED TEMPLE.

The next minute the fugitives emerged from the jungle into what was once a cultivated field, but which was now covered with a species of short grass burned crisp by the sun. The ground was level, and favorable for pedestrianism.

Our friends could not have asked anything better, and they straightway gave their pursuers an exhibition of speed that must have astonished them.

Harkins was bearing to the right, but was recalled by a word from Luchman, and the three dashed for the other side of the plain, distant about an eighth of a mile.

What was to be done when the boundary should be reached was a serious question, but before attaining it an unexpected refuge presented itself.

India abounds with interesting ruins, temples and caves, which display an exquisite order of architecture of ancient times. In front of the runners appeared a ruined temple, and the guide called out that if they could reach that they would be safe.

The utmost effort was made, and Harkins and the surgeon were sure they never ran so fast in all their lives. Probably their pursuers believed the same, for they steadily dropped behind. Several fired while on the run, but that was practice in which they did not excel, and their shots went wild.

The structure, as seen from a distance, was simply a ruin. It had been a fine building centuries before, but was fallen to pieces so that naught beside the lower portion remained. Several walls, their tops jagged and uneven, rose to a height of twenty or thirty feet, and piles of masonry lay strewn around where they may have been tumbled by fanatic hands or by the elements. Dense shrubbery and a few twisted trees projected from the debris, and their roots, while helping to disintegrate, also helped to hold what was left in position.

The masonry was of a dull gray color, visible for a long way through the emerald vegetation, though a casual glance might well have caused a doubt as to whether it could be made available as a means of defense. In ancient times, the use of a species of sugar in the mortar gave it a degree of hardness which gradually became like that of stone itself.

But there was no time to think of that: it was all that was left to the fugitives, who continued to put forth their utmost efforts. They kept well together until quite near the refuge, when Luchman shot ahead with a swiftness that astonished the others. He bounded through the arched way that had once spanned the entrance as if he were shot from a catapult.

His companions were scarcely behind him, and they rushed in like a couple of contestants on the home-stretch, all quickly pausing, for they were doubtful of what remained beyond.

"Stop, sahibs," shouted Luchman; "they must not come in!"

The native breathed no faster because of his exertion, but the two athletes were panting, though able to do far more had it been necessary. Checking themselves, they turned about to watch the movements of their enemies.

The latter had been thrown far behind, and were coming at a more leisurely gait. The fugitives viewed them through the overhanging branches of a gnarled tree, which grew off to one side from the arched gateway. They saw the Ghoojurs pause at a safe distance and engage in a discussion, most likely as to what course they should follow, in view of the new turn events had taken.

"They are debating whether to make a rush after us or to wait till they can bring up reenforcements," ventured Harkins.

"I can understand the two sides to that question," replied the doctor. "It will not take them long to get all the aid they can want, but the objection to that is that it will make the share of each so much the smaller, when they come to divide the spoil."

Leaving his friends to keep watch, Luchman entered the fort of which they had taken possession, to learn its capabilities in the way of defense. He needed but a short time, and the result was more satisfactory than he expected.

The arched gate or doorway extended backward twenty feet, where it opened into a spacious apartment. The former was several yards in width and eight or ten feet high. The room measured about thirty feet square had a high ceiling and was dimly lit by several small circular windows, similar to those used to light the cells of prisoners. There were three at the rear, but none at the sides, and they, with the tunnel-like passage which admitted the fugitives, gave enough illumination for the occupants to see each other across the apartment.

The roof of this room had been the floor of the tower-like structure which is common to ancient Hindoo ruins. It appeared to be a foot in thickness, and was composed of great blocks of hard, gray stone, united by a cement, spread over and around a net work of massive beams, which rendered them as durable as the rock itself. The walls at the side were equally heavy, and, being joined by the same kind of sugary cement, they were powerful enough to resist for a long time the pounding of large cannon.

A small force could hold an immense one at bay, protected as was the garrison by such powerful defenses. The only question was as to how long a party could stand a siege.

In the case of our friends, this certainly could not be long, for they were not only without food and water, but lacked the means of getting any. All were hungry, and before long would be thirsty.

"We can hold them in check, sahibs, until night," said Luchman, "but if we wait longer than that, they will have us fast."

Though a score of brave men might recoil from an attempt to carry the place by storm, yet the Ghoojurs must have known that they had but to contain their souls in patience for only a brief while. The tempting fruit if left alone will fall to the ground in the fulness of time.

Since the Ghoojurs showed no disposition to make any immediate advance, the guide told his friends that if they wished they could take a survey of the interior, and he would call them when wanted. Thereupon Harkins and the surgeon passed through the gateway, and entered the large apartment.

"If we had several months' provisions and a well of water," observed the sportsman, "we wouldn't care for all the Ghoojurs that could be brought against us. They couldn't batter these walls down in a year, and we would pick them off at our leisure."

"Why speculate upon that which can never be?" asked the doctor, whose spirits were not so elastic as those of his companion; "there is no means of getting food or water, and I am oppressed with a sentiment that here we are to make a final stand."

"That for presentiments," replied Harkins, snapping his fingers; "they all depend on the state of your stomach. I am hungry, but am not bilious, and therefore haven't any presentiments."

"Who shall say whether our dear ones are yet alive?"

"No one, but there is hope," said Harkins, more sympathetically; "the outlook is bad, but no worse than it has been several times before."

"We have been favored in a marked degree, but we must not shut our eyes to what is before us. Hitherto we have had the liberty of movement, but we are now walled in."

"Didn't you hear Luchman say that we must keep them in check until night, when we would leave? What can that signify but that he has fixed upon some feasible scheme?"

"Common sense will not allow me to believe that. There is but one way out, and that is the one by which we entered; and the nights now are almost the same as day."

"Keep a stiff upper lip, doctor, for though I can't explain the plan of the campaign I know he can. Your depression just now is not because of yourself but your absent friends."

"It is, for I am sure Luchman considers their case about hopeless; what do you think, Harkins?"

"I believe they are prisoners."

"That is worse than if they were dead."

Harkins turned his head away and whistled softly: he knew his friend was right.

"You have my profoundest sympathy, doctor, and my life is at your service. If we knew where they were, I would lead in a rush that would end in our death or their safety."

These were brave words, but there could be no doubt of their honesty. There was no risk the sportsman would not have eagerly run for the sake of his new friends. The doctor feelingly thanked him, adding that he was confident he would soon be called upon to verify his pledge.

Their eyes had now become accustomed to the twilight of the room, and they saw distinctly.

"What the mischief is _that_?" asked Harkins, pointing toward the further corner, where a large object with some resemblance to a man was visible.

"We can soon find out," replied the doctor, striding across the apartment.

Both laughed, for that which had caught their eye was an idol--one of the hundreds of thousands of deities of India.

It was a grotesque imitation of humanity, with a head resembling an elephant's and as big as the rest of the body, and with a mouth, eyes and nose enough to terrify a beholder. It seemed to have been carved from marble, and still bore traces of the red paint and gilt with which it was once decorated.

"Do you know anything about this gentleman?" asked Harkins, after they had examined the image.

"It is meant for Gungah, the many armed goddess of the Ganges."

"It seems to me that when these people tried to represent a goddess they might have made her better looking. This specimen is enough to give a man the nightmare."

While making these remarks, Harkins placed his hand against the idol and pushed hard enough to move it slightly.

"She don't seem to be very solid on her pins," he said; "over she goes!"

And with a more vigorous shove he sent her crashing to the floor.

"Thus shall tumble the Mogul Empire," said Avery, looking down on the prostrate monster, "and it shall rise nevermore."

"I agree with your sentiments, but wish that the empire would not be so long in falling. I tell you that old England, though thousands of miles away, won't take long to strike, and when she does so, it will be straight from the shoulder and she'll make the bones rattle."

"Yes," assented the surgeon with a glow of patriotic pride, "our whole population is not an eighth of this country's, but we are as much its master as though our army were ten times as big."

Since the two were talking thus familiarly, the doctor, having made a remark, awaited the reply of his friend. But Harkins was as still as the idol had been for hundreds of years.

"What's the matter?" asked Avery in some surprise.

Harkins raised his hand.

"_Sh! hark!_"

The surgeon did as requested, but was unable to hear anything to justify the action of his friend.

"I say, my boy," remarked Harkins a minute later, "we haven't yet unearthed all the mysteries of this old temple."

"To what do you refer?"

"We are not the only persons in it. While you were speaking a little while ago I heard voices."

"Are you sure of that?"

"There is no doubt about it. The speakers used so much care that I could not catch their words, but the voices themselves, though faint, could not be mistaken."

"Could they not have been the Ghoojurs outside?"

"No, I thought of that; I was standing right here with no dream of such a thing when--there they are again!"

Avery stepped forward and pressed his ear against the wall beyond which it was evident the strangers must be. The next minute he whispered:

"You are right, Harkins; there are other persons in this temple."