By Eastern windows Read Online Free PDF

bogged down no matter how many times we pull them clear.’
    ‘Quite so, quite so.' Balfour hesitated, there was a reason of course for the summons, but he always considered it only fair to compliment an officer in some way before making him miserable. ‘Efficient work you and the men did building the batteries,’ he said. ‘Major Jones's guns were perfectly positioned and right on time. Good show.’
    ‘Just doing our duty, sir.’
    ‘Ah yes, duty. The First Commandment for all soldiers. Duty is what makes us push on when we long to turn back. And we, poor dutiful souls, must push on through all this ruddy mud...’ Balfour sighed bleakly. ‘So, Lieutenant, my orders are to command you to take six subalterns and one hundred men to build a road over the mud to make it   easier for the artillery train and stores to be hauled up the Pass.’
    ‘ Build ... a road ?’
    ‘Not you personally, Lieutenant, no indeed no! Your men will do the actual work. All you will have to do is instruct and supervise them.’
    Lachlan recovered from his shock, staring angrily at Balfour. ‘But the men, sir … the men are half-dead with exhaustion.’
    Balfour’s eyes also flashed anger. ‘Our dead we bury immediately and respectfully, but those soldiers who are alive and can still walk – we keep working! Now set to it, Lieutenant, as soon as you can.’
     
    At daybreak Lachlan and his men were already out, cutting down trees and laying a timber road, mile by mile, over which the guns were hauled. Some days the going was so tough only two miles could be covered.   Each night Lachlan wearily splashed through the mud of the camp into the dryness of the tent he shared with Dr Anderson, falling down in sleep in his hammock without removing his scarlet coat.
     
    The timber road finally reached the head of the Poodicherum Ghaut, overlooking Tipu Sultan’s country of Mysore; one of the most beautiful parts of India that Lachlan had ever seen, saturated with groves of orange trees and lush green gardens throughout the wide-ranging   plains. It had taken them three months of marching and numerous halts before they at last joined with Lord Cornwallis's troops in one great army outside Seringaptam.
    The first attack would be a night attack, Cornwallis decided. Surrounding the walls and storming the city was the first business he wanted done. The men waited in the darkness and while they did, Private McKenzie took it upon himself to instruct his comrades.
    ‘Now listen lads, ye’ll all be doin’ Scotland proud when ye go out there fightin’ like soldiers! Like real soldiers, like proper soldiers! An’ remember – I’ll be reet behind ye!’
    A hard whack on the back of his head by a pistol butt sent McKenzie staggering forward in mid-sentence. `You stupid sod!’ Lachlan hissed furiously. `Does that big gob of yours never shut?’
    ‘But, sir …’ McKenzie steadied himself and rubbed the back of his head in puzzlement. ‘I was only – ‘
    ‘Only marking our spot for every murderous skirmisher hiding out there in the groves.’ Lachlan quickly pointed the pistol at McKenzie’s head and the sound of the hammer being cocked made the big man freeze. ‘If you ever put my men in such danger again, McKenzie, I swear I’ll not hesitate to blow your brains out. Is that clear?’
    ‘Aye, sir,’ McKenzie stuttered, `clear as d-daylight.’
    ‘Now back into line!’
    ‘Aye, s-sir,’ McKenzie mumbled, but seemed unable to move.
    ‘So do it!’ Lachlan lowered the gun and holstered it as Lieutenant Grant and an ensign approached him.
    ‘Dispatches have been going back and forth between Cornwallis and Tipu,’ Grant told him quietly. ‘It seems the sultan is not too happy at the sight of all the Indian regiments of the British Army gathered at his threshold. The latest news is that he has decided to call a halt to all hostilities and enter into a Peace Treaty with the British.’
    ‘Until the next time he gets in a bad mood?’