territory. He had lately defeated Colonel Bailey's detachment, and made them prisoners, and used every effort to get as many of the English as possible into his power, in order either to tempt them into his service, or to gratify his brutality by exposing them to a lingering death. He had bribed Suffrein with three hundred thousand rupees, to surrender up to him all his prisoners at Cuddalore; and the order being communicated to the commander of the fort, nothing could exceed the indignation and grief which he and his officers testified at such an infamous bargain. However, as he dared not disobey the orders of his superior, he informed the gentlemen on parole of the transaction, and his necessity of delivering them up the next day, to the escort appointed to carry them to Seringapatam. tion to a brother officer and a All that part of the Tanjore country is low, and intersected with a number of rivers, branch Captain Wilson no sooner received the intelligence, than he determined that very night, if possible, to attempt his escape from captivity, which appeared to him worse than death. He had observed as he walked the ramparts the possibility of drop-ing off from the great Coleroon; ping down into the river; and though he neither knew the height of the wall, nor the width of the rivers which were to be crossed before he could reach a neutral settlement, he determined to seize the moment of delay, and risk the consequences, whatever danger or difficulty might be in the way. He communicated his resolu these necessarily must all be crossed. He inquired, therefore, of the boy, if he could swim, but found he could not. This was very embarrassing, but he resolved not to leave him behind, and therefore took him on his back, and being an excellent swimmer, carried him over. They pushed towards Porto Nuovo, about four leagues and a half from Cuddalore. They had passed three arms of the river, and advanced at as great a pace as they possibly could, to make use of the night, since their hope of safety depended chiefly on the distance they could reach before the morning light. Not far from Porto Nuovo a sepoy sentry challenged, 'Who goes there?' on which they shrunk back, and concealed themselves, turning down on the river-side. The river in that place was very wide, and being near the sea, the tide ran in with rapidity. He took, however, the boy on his back, as he had done before, and bade him be sure and hold only by his hands, and cast his legs behind him; but when they came into the breakers, the boy was frightened, and clung round the captain with his legs so fast as almost to sink him. With difficulty he struggled with the waves, and turning back to the shore, found they must inevitably perish together if he thus attempted to proceed. Therefore, setting the boy safe on land, he bade him go back to Dr. Mein, who he thought might take care of him; but the poor lad was never again heard of, though the most diligent inquiries were made after him. As delay was death to Wilson, he plunged again into the stream, and buffeting the waves, pushed for the opposite shore; but he found the tide running upwards so strong, that in spite of all his efforts he was carried along with the current, and constrained, at a considerable distance, to return to the same side of the river. Providentially, at the place where he landed, he discovered by the moonlight, dry on the beach, a canoe, which he immediately seized, and was drawing down to the river, when two black men rushed upon him, and demanded whither he was going with that boat. He seized the outrigger of the canoe, as his only weapon of defence against the paddles, which they had secured, and told them he had lost his way, had urgent business at Tranquebar, and thither he must go ; and launching with all his remaining strength the canoe into the river, he entreated them to convey him to the other side. The good-natured Indians laid down their paddles on the thwarts, and whilst he stood in the stern, rowed him to the opposite shore. He returned thein many thanks, having nothing else to give them, and leaping the beach, immediately pushed forward with all his might. He found he had as great a distance to pass to the Coleroon as he had already travelled, and therefore continued his course with unabated speed, the moon shining bright, and lighting him on his way. Before break of day he reached this largest arm of the river, of which those he had crossed were branches, Exhausted with the fatigue he had undergone, and dismayed with the width of this mighty stream, he stood for a moment hesitating on the brink; but the approach of morning, and the danger behind him being so urgent, he stretched out his arms to the flood, and pressed for the shore. How long he was in crossing he could not ascertain; he thinks he must have slept by the way, from some confused remembrance, as a person awaking from a state of insensibility, which he supposed had lasted half an hour at least. However, with the light of the morning he reached the land, flattering himself that all his dangers were past, and his liberty secured. When, after passing a jungle that led to the sea-side, he ascended a sandbank to look around him, there, to his terror and surprise, he perceived a party of Hyder's horse Scouring the coast; and being discovered by them, they galloped up to him. In a moment, before he could either fly or resist, they seized and stripped him naked, and tying his hands behind his back, fastened a rope to them, and thus drove him before them to their headquarters, several miles distant, under a burning sun, and covered with blisters. He supposes he must have gone that night and day more than forty miles, besides all the rivers he had crossed. But to what efforts will not the hope of life and liberty prompt? What sufferings and dangers will men not brave to secure them? Yet these were but the beginning of his sorrows! The officer at the headquarters was a Mahommedan, one of Hyder's chieftains. He interrogated the poor prisoner sharply, as to who he was, whence he came, and whither he was going. Wilson gave him an ingenuous account of his flight. The officer with wrath looked at him, and said: 6 That is a lie, because no man ever yet passed the Coleroon by swimming; for had he but dipped the tip of his finger in it, the alligators would have seized him.' The captain assured him the truth was so, and gave him such indubitable evidence of the fact, that he could no longer doubt the relation; when, lifting up both hands, he cried out, "This is God's man!' Wilson was immediately marched back, naked and blistered as he was, to his former prison. In aggravated punishment for his flight, Hyder refused him permission to join his fellow-officers, his former companions, and thrust him into a dungeon among the meanest captives. Chained to a common soldier, he was next day led out, almost famished and nearly naked, to march on foot to Seringapatam, in that burning climate, about five hundred miles distant. The officers beheld his forlorn condition with great concern, unable to procure him any redress; they endeavoured to alleviate his leagues and a half from Cuddalore. They had passed three arms of the river, and advanced at as great a pace as they possibly could, to make use of the night, since their hope of safety depended chiefly on the distance they could reach before the morning light. Not far from Porto Nuovo a sepoy sentry challenged, 'Who goes there?' on which they shrunk back, and concealed themselves, turning down on the river-side. The river in that place was very wide, and being near the sea, the tide ran in with rapidity. He took, however, the boy on his back, as he had done before, and bade him be sure and hold only by his hands, and cast his legs behind him; but when they came into the breakers, the boy was frightened, and clung round the captain with his legs so fast as almost to sink him. With difficulty he struggled with the waves, and turning back to the shore, found they must inevitably perish together if he thus attempted to proceed. Therefore, setting the boy safe on land, he bade him go back to Dr. Mein, who he thought might take care of him; but the noor lad was never again though the most quiries were made As delay was son, he plunged stream, and bu pushed for the but he fou upward of all his effort along with the c strained, at a c tance, to return⚫ of the river. at the place wh he discovered by light, dry on the be which he immedi and was drawing river, when two rushed upon him, an whither he was go boat. He seized of the canoe, as hi of defence against which they had told them he had had urgent busin bar, and thither and launching maining strength the river, he en convey him to The good-nat down their thwarts, and the stern, posite sho many the else to on the flux which he carried his fellows; but worn Reduced now to the extremity of weakness, his chains too strait to be endured, and threatening mortification, he seemed to r touch the moment of his disce solution, and was released from the them to lie down and die. The at he soldier to whom he had been swal- last chained served him with id, he great affection; whilst the own fin- others who had been linked tohe should gether often quarrelled, and rendered mad by their suffertic High- ing, blasphemed and aggravated he first each other's miseries. Seeing ropsy him thus to all appearance near ers. his end, and thinking it might un- alleviate his pain, Sam entreated the he might spend for oil the daily ving pice, about three farthings, paid lace, them, and anoint his legs; but sease. the captain objected, saying that uld en- he should then have nothing to stonish- buy firing and salt to cook his recovered next day's provision. Sam shook hem. |
