no use; we cannot feed upon elephants for
ever; we have not a grain of powder left, and must give up the fort when
the attack is made to-morrow. We may as well be prisoners now as then,
and we won't go elephant-hunting any more."

"Ruffian!" I said, "he who first talks of surrender, dies!" and I cut
him down. "Is there any one else who wishes to speak?"

No one stirred.

"Cowards! miserable cowards!" shouted I; "what, you dare not move for
fear of death, at the hands of those wretches who even now fled before
your arms--what, do I say YOUR arms?--before MINE!--alone I did it; and
as alone I routed the foe, alone I will victual the fortress! Ho! open
the gate!"

I rushed out; not a single man would follow. The bodies of the elephants
that we had killed still lay on the ground where they had fallen, about
four hundred yards from the fort. I descended calmly the hill, a very
steep one, and coming to the spot, took my pick of the animals, choosing
a tolerably small and plump one, of about thirteen feet high, which the
vultures had respected. I threw this animal over my shoulders, and made
for the fort.

As I marched up the acclivity, whiz--piff--whir! came the balls over
my head; and pitter-patter, pitter-patter! they fell on the body of the
elephant like drops of rain. The enemy were behind me; I knew it, and
quickened my pace. I heard the gallop of their horse: they came nearer,
nearer; I was within a hundred yards of the fort--seventy--fifty!
I strained every nerve; I panted with the superhuman exertion--I
ran--could a man run very fast with such a tremendous weight on his
shoulders?

Up came the enemy; fifty horsemen were shouting and screaming at my
tail. O heaven! five yards more--one moment--and I am saved! It is
done--I strain the last strain--I make the last step--I fling forward my
precious burden into the gate opened wide to receive me and it, and--I
fall! The gate thunders to, and I am left ON THE OUTSIDE! Fifty knives
are gleaming before my bloodshot eyes--fifty black hands are at my
throat, when a voice exclaims, "Stop!--kill him not, it is Gujputi!" A
film came over my eyes--exhausted nature would bear no more.

CHAPTER IX.

SURPRISE OF FUTTYGHUR.

When I awoke from the trance into which I had fallen, I found myself in
a bath, surrounded by innumerable black faces; and a Hindoo pothukoor
(whence our word apothecary) feeling my pulse and looking at me with an
air of sagacity.

"Where am I?"