Burlesques William Makepeace Thackeray

145
THE INDIAN CAMP—THE SORTIE FROM THE FORT.
HEAD-QUARTERS, MORELLA, Oct. 3, 1838.
It is a balmy night. I hear the merry jingle of the tambourine, and the cheery voices of the
girls and peasants, as they dance beneath my casement, under the shadow of the clustering
vines. The laugh and song pass gayly round, and even at this distance I can distinguish the
elegant form of Ramon Cabrera, as he whispers gay nothings in the ears of the Andalusian
girls, or joins in the thrilling chorus of Riego's hymn, which is ever and anon vociferated by
the enthusiastic soldiery of Carlos Quinto. I am alone, in the most inaccessible and most
bomb-proof tower of our little fortalice; the large casements are open—the wind, as it
enters, whispers in my ear its odorous recollections of the orange grove and the myrtle
bower. My torch (a branch of the fragrant cedar-tree) flares and flickers in the midnight
breeze, and disperses its scent and burning splinters on my scroll and the desk where I
write—meet implements for a soldier's authorship!—it is CARTRIDGE paper over which
my pen runs so glibly, and a yawning barrel of gunpowder forms my rough writing-table.
Around me, below me, above me, all—all is peace! I think, as I sit here so lonely, on my
country, England! and muse over the sweet and bitter recollections of my early days! Let
me resume my narrative, at the point where (interrupted by the authoritative summons of
war) I paused on the last occasion.
I left off, I think—(for I am a thousand miles away from proof-sheets as I write, and, were I
not writing the simple TRUTH, must contradict myself a thousand times in the course of
my tale)—I think, I say, that I left off at that period of my story, when, Holkar being before
Futtyghur, and I in command of that fortress, I had just been compelled to make away with
his messenger; and, dressed in the fallen Indian's accoutrements, went forth to reconnoitre
the force, and, if possible, to learn the intentions of the enemy. However much my figure
might have resembled that of the Pitan, and, disguised in his armor, might have deceived
the lynx-eyed Mahrattas, into whose camp I was about to plunge, it was evident that a
single glance at my fair face and auburn beard would have undeceived the dullest
blockhead in Holkar's army. Seizing, then, a bottle of Burgess's walnut catsup, I dyed my
face and my hands, and, with the simple aid of a flask of Warren's jet, I made my hair and
beard as black as ebony. The Indian's helmet and chain hood covered likewise a great part
of my face and I hoped thus, with luck, impudence, and a complete command of all the
Eastern dialects and languages, from Burmah to Afghanistan, to pass scot-free through this
somewhat dangerous ordeal.
I had not the word of the night, it is true—but I trusted to good fortune for that, and passed
boldly out of the fortress, bearing the flag of truce as before; I had scarcely passed on a
couple of hundred yards, when lo! a party of Indian horsemen, armed like him I had just
overcome, trotted towards me. One was leading a noble white charger, and no sooner did he