CHAPTER XXI.

FAZIL KHAN had followed the progress of his father up the mountain-side with intense interest. The little pavilion on the knoll, the group of Bramhuns already there, and the open and nearly level spot which had been selected as the place of meeting, were distinctly visible from where he stood with Bulwunt Rao, and a few other of his trusty associates and retainers. Around, the horsemen now mostly dismounted-were dispersed in picturesque groups, talking together or lying lazily upon the soft sward holding their horses' bridles, and shading their eyes from the sun.

In the town through which his father had gone, there appeared no stir. A few men were lounging about the gate, and upon the bastion near it, and thus were looking out upon the Mahomedan horsemen apparently in idle curiosity. The gate was open, and the townspeople, and women with jars of water on their heads, were passing to and fro unconcernedly as usual. There was nothing to excite suspicion or apprehension, except in the mode of reception of his father, and the strange, unusual proposition, that the first interview should be

on the mountain - side, and alone; but Bulwunt Rao had explained this characteristically, and with a fair show of reason, and Fazil, though uneasy, was obliged to be content: there was no remedy now.

So the Khan's progress in his palankeen had been watched with intense anxiety as he ascended the rugged pathway. At times the bearers could be seen, and the priest holding the side of the litter to help himself along : again the thick foliage, and turns in the road, hid them from view. At length Fazil saw the Bramhuns on the knoll rise and advance a few steps, and the palankeen emerge upon the open space, where it was set down; and his father got out, adjusted his turban and shawl, and stood with the rest. Then the bearers and the priest moved a little aside; and as the two men from above appeared, his father advanced to meet them, and embraced one.

It was but for a moment, and the fatal result was at once apparent. With a cry of horror, which aroused many around him who had not been watching the proceedings above, Fazil saw his father reel and fall, rise again, as his sword flashed in the air, and with the Peer maintain the unequal combat we have already described. No sound reached those below; they could only see the flashing of the weapons in the sun, and the struggle of the combatants. Involuntarily, Fazil urged on his horse. Alas! of what avail now? Others had been watching as well as he; and the blast of the horn, which rose shrill and quivering as the Khan fell, was answered by volleys of matchlock shots from

the woods around. The gates of the town were shut, and the walls and bastions manned as thickly as men could stand on them, whose fire on the horsemen below was hot and deadly.

The effect of the surprise upon the helpless cavaliers need not be detailed. Panic-stricken, and hemmed in on every side, they rode hither and thither, vainly seeking places of egress through the woods, or by the way they came, and were shot down in scores either where they stood, or as they gathered in groups and charged hither and thither in the vain attempt to reach a foe. Among these, Fazil Khan, with Bulwunt Rao and some others, had kept together; and, in the emergency, Bulwunt's clear perception, not only of the danger, but the best means of extrication from it, saved his young master. On the first perception of his father's fate, Fazil had seen that it was impossible to give help. The town and its walls stood between him and the ascent to the fort, and were utterly impassable. His next idea, in his grief and desperation, was to die with his men as martyrs to the faith; and he was about to dismount, and take his chance on foot, when Bulwunt stopped him.

"No, Meah," he cried, "not while there is hope. They who will be helpless indeed without you, will need you yonder in camp. If it must be, I will die with Follow me, and we will soon

you, but not now.

join them."

Well was it for Fazil Khan that in his retainer he possessed equally, a devoted friend and one who had

known the country as a youth. In his recent visit to the fort, Bulwuut Rao had explored some of his old haunts. One pathway, lying near that by which they had come, was hardly visible from the plain, but if it could be gained, it opened out afterwards into a long glade, which joined the main-road below. It might be guarded, and they could but fight their way through it or fall. Certainly it was better than the way they had come, before which, from the deadly fire maintained there, the horsemen had already fallen in a heap.

"Look," continued Bulwunt Rao, pointing to the entrance to the main-road, "there is no hope there. They have been at their old trick of felling trees across it, and no horse can pass. The Abyssinians have fallen in a heap, and if we try, we shall but follow them. We need not be martyrs yet, Meah," he laughed cheerfully. "Now, set your teeth, my sons," he continued to the men around, "and follow me. We may not all get through; but, Bismilla! come, and let God take whom he pleases."

There might have been fifty men; and others, as many more perhaps, as they saw these ride together in a desperate race in one direction,-joined them. Bulwunt Rao and Fazil were leading; and as they approached what seemed a portion of impervious wood, Fazil's heart failed him for a moment. "You are wrong, Bulwunt Rao," he cried. "We cannot get through this-let us turn."

"Madman!" exclaimed the other, seizing the bridle of his horse. "By your mother and sister, I swear I

am right! Follow me, my children," he shouted, looking back, while he again urged his horse to its utmost speed; we are near now."

He was right. A portion of the jungle jutted out beyond the rest, and made a slight shoulder, as it were, behind which was the path. As they turned round the corner, they saw a body of foot-soldiers drawn up across it; but ere these could raise their matchlocks to fire, the impetuous horsemen were among them, trampling some down, and hewing fiercely at others with their long Spanish swords.* The attack was irresistible, and, the first line of men forced, they encountered no others. Straggling shots were fired at them from the sides of the mountain, but without effect; and after riding. nearly a mile down the glade at the same speed, the pathway turned into the main-road, and they heard the din of the fight die away behind them. Of the fifteen hundred gallant cavaliers who had ridden that morning from the camp at Jowly, they were the only survivors.

While Nettajee Palkur was finishing his bloody work on those who remained after Fazil Khan's escape, by closing up the pathway, and attacking from all sides at once, such of the horsemen as remained in the field, -Moro Trimmul was busy with his part of the general slaughter; and as the fugitives rode on, the din of the fight behind growing fainter as they proceeded, they

* The Portuguese of Goa used to import large quantities of Spanish and Genoa sword-blades. They were held in high estimation at Beejapoor, and they are still often to be met with in the country. The Rajah Sivaji's famous sword Bhowani, with which he killed Afzool Khan, is a Genoa blade of the first water.