bcornwell.sharpstiger-第14部分

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ould　not　live　in　England；　not　in　Hampshire　where　his　sister　lived　with　her　petulant　English　husband。　Harriet　kept　pressing　him　to　retire　to　Hampshire；　saying　that　they　had　no　relatives　left　in　Scotland　and　that　her　husband　had　a　wee　cottage　that　would　suit　McCandless's　declining　years　to　perfection；　but　the　Colonel　had　no　taste　for　a　soft；　plump；　English　landscape；　nor；　indeed；　for　his　soft　plump　sister's　pany。　Harriet's　son；　McCandless's　nephew　William　Lawford；　was　a　decent　enough　young　fellow　even　if　he　had　forgotten　his　Scottish　ancestry；　but　young　William　was　now　in　the　army；　here　in　Mysore　indeed；　which　meant　that　the　only　relative　McCandless　liked　was　close　at　hand　and　that　circumstance　merely　strengthened　McCandless's　distaste　for　retiring　to　Hampshire。　But　to　Scotland？　He　often　dreamed　of　going　back；　though　whenever　the　opportunity　arose　for　him　to　take　the　pany's　pension　and　sail　to　his　native　land；　he　always　found　some　unfinished　business　that　kept　him　in　India。　Next　year；　he　promised　himself；　the　year　of　our　Lord　1800；　would　be　a　good　year　to　go　home；　though　in　truth　he　had　promised　himself　the　same　thing　every　year　for　the　last　decade。
　The　seven　men　unpicketed　the　horses　and　hauled　themselves　into　their　worn　saddles。　The　Indian　escort　was　armed　with　lances；　sabres　and　pistols；　while　McCandless　carried　a　claymore；　a　horse　pistol　and　a　carbine　that　was　holstered　on　his　saddle。　He　glanced　once　towards　the　rising　sun　to　check　his　direction；　then　led　his　men　northwards。　He　said　nothing；　but　he　needed　to　give　these　men　no　orders。　They　knew　well　enough　to　keep　a　keen　lookout　in　this　dangerous　land。
　For　this　was　the　kingdom　of　Mysore；　high　on　the　southern　Indian　plateau；　and　as　far　as　the　horsemen　could　see　the　land　was　under　the　rule　of　the　Tippoo　Sultan。　Indeed　this　was　the　Tippoo's　heartland；　a　fertile　plain　rich　with　villages；　fields　and　water　cisterns；　only　now；　as　the　British　army　advanced　and　the　Tippoo's　retreated；　the　country　was　being　blighted。McCandless　could　see　six　pillars　of　smoke　showing　where　the　Tippoo's　cavalry　had　burned　granaries　to　make　sure　that　the　hated　British　could　not　find　food。　The　cisterns　would　all　have　been　poisoned；　the　livestock　driven　westwards　and　every　storehouse　emptied；　thus　forcing　the　armies　of　Britain　and　Hyderabad　to　carry　all　their　own　supplies　on　the　cumbersome　bullock　carts。　McCandless　guessed　that　yesterday's　brief　and　unequal　battle　had　been　an　attempt　by　the　Tippoo　to　draw　the　escorting　troops　away　from　the　precious　baggage　onto　his　infantry；　after　which　he　would　have　released　his　fearsome　horsemen　onto　the　wagons　of　grain　and　rice　and　salt；　but　the　British　had　not　taken　the　bait　which　meant　that　General　Harris's　ponderous　advance　would　continue。　Say　another　week　until　they　arrived　at　Seringapatam？　Then　they　would　face　two　months　of　short　rations　and　searing　weather　before　the　monsoon　broke；　but　McCandless　reckoned　that　two　months　was　plenty　enough　time　to　do　the　job；　especially　as　the　British　would　soon　know　how　to　avoid　the　Tippoo's　trap　at　the　western　walls。
　He　threaded　his　horse　through　a　grove　of　cork　trees；　glad　of　the　shade　cast　by　the　deep…green　leaves。　He　paused　at　the　grove's　edge　to　watch　the　land　ahead；　which　dropped　gently　into　a　valley　where　a　score　of　people　were　working　in　rice　paddies。　The　valley；　McCandless　supposed；　lay　far　enough　from　the　line　of　the　British　advance　to　have　been　spared　the　destruction　of　its　stores　and　water　supply。　A　small　village　lay　to　the　west　of　the　rice　paddies；　and　McCandless　could　see　another　dozen　people　working　in　the　small　gardens　around　the　houses；　and　he　knew　that　he　and　his　men　would　be　spotted　as　soon　as　they　left　the　cover　of　the　cork　grove；　but　he　doubted　that　any　of　the　villagers　would　investigate　seven　strange　horsemen。　The　folk　of　Mysore；　like　villagers　throughout　all　the　Indian　states；　avoided　mysterious　soldiers　in　the　hope　that　the　soldiers　would　avoid　them。　At　the　far　side　of　the　rice　paddies　were　plantations　of　mango　and　date　palms；　andbeyond　them　a　bare　hill　crest。　McCandless　watched　that　empty　crest　for　a　few　minutes　and　then；　satisfied　that　no　enemy　was　nearby；　he　spurred　his　mare　forward。
　The　people　working　the　rice　immediately　fled　towards　their　homes　and　McCandless　swerved　eastwards　to　show　them　he　meant　no　harm；　then　kicked　the　mare　into　a　trot。　He　rode　beside　a　grove　of　carefully　tended　mulberry　trees；　part　of　the　Tippoo's　scheme　to　make　silk　weaving　into　a　major　industry　of　Mysore；　then　he　spurred　into　a　canter　as　he　approached　the　bed　of　the　valley。　His　escort's　curb　and　scabbard　chains　jingled　behind　him　as　the　horses　pounded　down　the　slope；　splashed　through　the　shrunken　stream　that　trickled　from　the　paddies；　then　began　the　gentle　climb　to　the　date　palm　grove。
　It　was　then　that　McCandless　saw　the　flash　of　light　in　the　mango　trees。
　He　instinctively　dragged　his　horse　around　to　face　the　rising　sun　and　pricked　back　his　spurs。　He　looked　behind　as　he　rode；　hoping　that　the　flash　of　light　was　nothing　but　some　errant　reflection；　but　men　he　saw；　horsemen　spurring　from　the　trees。　They　carried　lances　and　all　of　them　were　dressed　in　the　tiger…striped　tunic。　There　were　a　dozen　men　at　least；　but　the　Scotsman　had　no　time　to　count　them　properly　for　he　was　plunging　his　spurs　back　to　race　his　mare　diagonally　up　the　slope　towards　the　crest。
　One　of　the　pursuing　horsemen　fired　a　shot　that　echoed　through　the　valley。　The　bullet　went　wide。　McCandless　doubted　it　had　been　supposed　to　hit　anything；　but　was　rather　intended　as　a　signal　to　alert　other　horsemen　who　must　be　in　the　area。　For　a　second　or　two　the　Scotsman　debated　turning　and　charging　directly　at　his　pursuers；　but　he　rejected　the　idea。　The　odds　were　marginally　too　great　and　his　news　far　too　important　to　be　gambled　on　a　skirmish。　Flight　was　his　only　option。　He　pulled　the　carbine　from　its　saddle　holster；　cocked　it；　then　clapped　his　heels　hard　onto　the　mare's　flank。　Onceover　the　crest　he　reckoned　there　was　a　good　chance　he　could　outrun　his　pursuers。
　Goats　scattered　from　his　path　as　he　spurred　the　mare　over　the　ridge's　skyline。　One　glance　behind　satisfied　McCandless　that　he　had　gained　a　long　enough　lead　to　let　him　turn　north　without　being　headed　off；　and　so　he　twitched　the　rein　and　let　the　mare　run。　A　long　stretch　of　open；　tree…dotted　country　lay　ahead　and　beyond　were　thick　stands　of　timber　in　which　he　and　his　escort　could　lose　themselves。　'Run；　girl！'　he　called　to　the　mare；　then　looked　behind　to　make　certain　his　escort　was　closed　up　and　safe。　Sweat　dripped　down　his　face；　his　scabbarded　claymore　thumped　up　and　down　on　his　hip；　but　the　strong　mare　was　running　like　the　wind　now；　her　speed　blowing　the　kilt　back　up　around　his　hips。　This　was　not　the　first　time　McCandless　had　raced　away　from　enemies。　He　had　once　run　for　a　whole　day；　dawn　to　twilight；　to　escape　a　Mahratta　band　and　the　mare　had　never　once　lost　her　footing。　In　all　India；　and　that　meant　all　the　world；　McCandless　had　no　friend　better　than　this　mare。　'Run；　girl！'　he　called　to　her　again；　then　looked　behind　once　more　and　it　was　then　that　the　Havildar　shouted　a　warning。　McCandless　turned　to　see　more　horsemen　ing　from　the　trees　to　the　north。
　There　must　have　been　fifty　or　sixty　horsemen　racing　towards　the　Scotsman　and；　even　as　he　swerved　the　mare　eastwards；　he　realized　that　his　original　dozen　pursuers　must　have　been　the　scouts　for　this　larger　party　of　cavalry　and　that　by　running　north　he　had　been　galloping　towards　the　enemy　rather　than　away　from　them。　Now　he　rode　towards　the　rising　sun　again；　but　there　was　no　cover　to　the　east　and　these　new　pursuers　were　already　dangerously　close。　He　angled　back　to　the　south；　hoping　he　might　find　some　shelter　in　the　valley　beyond　the　crest；　but　then　a　wild　volley　of　shots　sounded　from　his　pursuers。
　One　bullet　struck　the　mare。　It　was　a　fortunate　shot；　firedat　the　gallop；　and　ninety…nine　times　out　of　a　hundred　such　a　shot　would　have　flown　yards　wide；　but　this　ball　struck　the　mare's　haunch　and　McCandless　felt　her　falter。　He　slapped　her　rump　with　the　stock　of　his　carbine　and　she　tried　to　respond；　but　the　bullet　had　driven　close　to　the　mare's　spine　and　the　pain　was　growing　and　she　stumbled；　neighed；　yet　still　she　tried　to　run　again。　Then　one　of　her　back　legs　simply　stopped　working　and　the　horse　slewed　round　in　a　cloud　of　dust。　McCandless　kicked　his　feet　out　of　the　stirrups　as　his　escort　galloped　past。　The　Havildar　was　already　hauling　on　his　reins；　wheeling　his　horse　to　rescue　McCandless；　but　the　Scotsman　knew　it　was　too　late。　He　sprawled　on　the　ground；　hurled　free　of　the　falling　mare；　and　shouted　at　the　Havildar。　'Go；　man！'　he　called。　'Go！'　But　the　escort　had　sworn　to　protect　the　Colonel　and；　instead　of　fleeing；　the　Havildar　led　his　men　towards　the　rapidly　approaching　enemy。
　'You　fools！'　McCandless　shouted　after　them。　Brave　fools；　but　fools。　He　was　bruised；　but　otherwise　unhurt；　though　his　mare　was　dying。　She　was　whinnying　and　somehow　she　had　managed　to　raise　the　front　part　of　her　body　on　her　forelegs　and　seemed　puzzled　that　her　back　legs　would　not　work。　She　whinnied　again；　and　McCandless　knew　she　would　never　again　run　like　the　wind　and　so　he　did　the　friend's　duty。　He　went　to　her　head；　pulled　it　down　by　the　reins；　kissed　her　nose　and　then　put　a　bullet　into　her　skull　just　above　her　eyes。　She　reared　back；　white…eyed　and　with　blood　spraying；　then　she　slumped　down。　Her　forelegs　kicked　a　few　times　and　after　that　she　was　still。　The　flies　came　to　settle　on　her　wounds。
　The　Havildar's　small　group　rode　full　tilt　into　the　enemy's　pursuit。　That　enemy　had　been　scattered　by　their　gallop　and　the　Havildar's　men　were　closed　up　and　so　the　first　few　seconds　were　an　easy　victory。　Two　lances　found　Mysore　bellies；　two　sabres　drew　more　blood；　but　then　the　main　body　of　the　enemy　crashed　into　the　fight。　The　Havildar　himself　had　ridden　clean　through　the　leading　ranks；　leaving　his　lance　behind；　and　henow　looked　back　to　see　his　men　fighting　desperately　among　a　milling　group　of　enemy　horsemen。　He　drew　his　sabre　and　turned　back　to　help　when　he　heard　McCandless　shouting。　'Go；　man；　go！　Go！'　McCandless　yelled；　pointing　north。　The　Havildar　could　not　take　back　the　vital　news　McCandless　had　gained　from　Appah　Rao；　but　it　was　still　important　to　let　the　army　know　that　the　Colonel　had　been　captured。　McCandless　was　not　a