Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1899-09-14
CHAPTER NV.

CHAPTER NV.
Nine o'clock sounded from every
clock in Benares, and the entire city
was illuminated-every street, every
house was DESTROYS to add its share to
the splendor and elat of the magnif-
cent fete given by Lord Singleton.
The superb garden of the palace OF
the Presidency presented to the eye a
glimpse Of fairyland. Colored lights lit
UP the foliage. and luminous garlands
of flowers wound, one above the other,
upon all the trees. Fantastic glimmer-
ings were reflected in the mimic lakes;
and in the midst of all uprose the pal
ace of white marble, with its hundred
blazing windows.
To fifty complete the picture, upon
the emerald moss of the lawns, and be-
meath the wide-spreading branches, had
gathered a crowd, in whose waves in
termingled the red uniforms Of the
English officers and the sumptuous
costumes of the rajahs and the Hindoo
women Of exalted rank.
The pure atmosphere OF the mild,
clear night led Lord Singleton's guests
to choose the outer air and heavens
starry vault, rather than the heated
temperature within.
Two orchestIas, hidden from view at
either end of the garden, filled the air
with a food of melody. lnnumerable
liveried servants moved necessarily
among the guests. bearing silver wait
ers laden with all imaginable delica-
cies.
Not far from the foot of the grand
staircase, garnished with flowers and
leading from the palace to the garden,
was stationed a little group exclusive
ly English, composed of three or four
young ladies and as many officers in
the service OF the company.
One of these latter, a young fellow Of
perhaps twenty-six years, held his au-
ditors almost s~pell-bound by some won
derful ~recitals.
Indeed, I have exaggerated moth
ing he was saying. '"The dangers
which threaten us here are not only
immense. but increasing. Our lives
would be In infinitely less peril exposed
to the fire of battle. Battle! At least
one there sees face to face the enemy
with whom he has to deal. Here the
enemy is everywhere, but invisible. 1t
Is war, but the war Of assassination.
Every night we lose men; every morn
ing someone fails to answer to his
name at roll call, and someone finds the
sentinel dead at his post-strangled by
the terrible lasso, or bearing full in his
breast the triangular wound of the In
dian dagger. And throughout the ex-
panse of India the rising sun of each
new day looks down upon those foully
murdered, stretched upon the soil, red
with the victims blood!'
A shudder ran through the little
group.
But when these murderers attack
they are seen?' asked Of the young
girls.
Never! 1t is only in the darkness
they accomplish their internal work,
and with the suns first rays they van
isn, like the shadows of the night. En-
tirely naked, their bodies oiled, their
heads shaven, to offer no hold to the
death-clutch of the sufferers, they
creep out from their lairs at nightfall;
they leap like tigers, and fly at the
least alarm. Only once, by stratagem,
we succeeded in overcoming the dew
lis"
.And the ruse-what was it," all
asked in chorus.
'It was this" continued Lieut.. Mid
ley. Every night, on the edge of a lit
tie wood near Benares, we lost several
sentinels. One Of our officer- conceived
the idea Of uniforming some lay figures,
placing them at the perilous posts,
while we, our heads concealed by the
large lotus leaves, u pistols between
our teeth, kept watch. Three hour,
passed-three interminable hours. In
our constrained and uncomfortable po-
sitions. The night was profoundly
calm. The day drew near. We feared
our ruse was vain, when suddenly n
breath, like the kissing Of a serpent.
made us shudder, and a crowd of dew.
lis, who appeared to have sprung from
the bowels Of the earth, threw them
selves upon the false sentinels. A
shower OF bullets met them. Six fell
dead. The seventh made 4 desperate
resistance, even with a broken leg. but
we succeeded In capturing him, though
not before he had severely wounded
two Of our men. We brought him alive
to Benares, hoping to wrench from him
some revelations; but these peoples
~fanaticism is a virtue, is ever heroic.
Neither threat OF death or hope of par
don could extort from him one single
word. Sir John Malcolm himself could
do nothing. The Hindoo remained ST.
lent; he refused all n~ourishment: he
tore the bandage0 from his wounded