Chapter 2. Declaration Of War

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_ CHAPTER TWO. DECLARATION OF WAR

Meanwhile the two lads, who had retired from the field, strolled off together across the playground down to the pleasant lawn-like level which the Doctor, an old lover of the Surrey game, took a pride in having well kept for the benefit of his pupils, giving them a fair amount of privilege for this way of keeping themselves in health. But to quote his words in one of his social lectures, he said:

"You boys think me a dreadful old tyrant for keeping you slaving away at your classics and mathematics, because you recollect the work that you are often so unwilling to do, while the hours I give you for play quite slip your minds. Now, this is my invariable rule, that you shall do everything well: work hard when it's work, and play hard when it's play."

The two lads, Glyn Severn and his companion of many years, Aziz Singh, a dark English boy in appearance and speech, but maharajah in his own right over a powerful principality in Southern India, strolled right away over the grass to the extreme end of the Doctor's extensive grounds, chatting together as boys will talk about the incidents of the morning.

"Oh," cried the Indian lad angrily, "I wish you hadn't stopped me. I was just ready."

"Why, what did you want to do, Singhy?" cried the other.

"Fight," said the boy, with his eyes flashing and his dark brows drawn down close together.

"Oh, you shouldn't fight directly after breakfast," said Glyn Severn, laughing good-humouredly.

"Why not?" cried the other fiercely. "I felt just then as if I could kill him."

"Then I am glad I lugged you away."

"But you shouldn't," cried the young Indian. "You nearly made me hit you."

"You had better not," said Glyn, laughing merrily.

"Yes, of course; I know, and I don't want to."

"That's right; and you mustn't kill people in England because you fall out with them."

"No, of course not; I know that too. But I don't like that boy. He keeps on saying nasty things to us, and--and--what do you call it? I know--bullies you, and says insulting things to me. How dare he call me a nigger and say my father was a mahout?"

"The insulting brute!" said Glyn.

"Why should he do it?" cried Singh.

"Oh, it's plain enough. It's because he is big and strong, and he wants to pick a quarrel with us."

"But what for?" cried Singh. "We never did him any harm."

"Love of conquest, I suppose, so as to make us humble ourselves to him same as the other fellows do. He wants to be cock of the school."

"Oh--oh!" cried Singh. "It does make me feel so hot. What did he say to me: was I going to ride on the elephant?--Yes. Well, suppose I was. It wouldn't be the first time."

"Not by hundreds," cried Glyn. "I say, used it not to be grand? Don't you wish we were going over the plains to-day on the back of old Sultan?"

He pronounced it Sool-tann.

"Ah, yes!" cried Singh, with his eyes flashing now. "I do, I do! instead of being shut up in this old school to be bullied by a boy like that. I should like to knock his head off."

"No, you wouldn't. There, don't think anything more about it. He isn't worth your notice."

"No, I suppose not," said the Indian boy;--"but what makes me so angry is that he despises me, and has treated me ever since we came here as if I were his inferior. It is not the first time he has called me a nigger.--There, I won't think anything more about it. Tell me, what's this grand procession to-day? Is it to be like a durbar at home, when all the rajahs and nawabs come together with their elephants and trains?"

"Oh, no, no, no!" cried Glyn, laughing. "Nothing of the kind."

"Then, why are they making all this fuss? It said on the bills we saw yesterday in the town, 'Ramball's Wild-Beast Show. Grand Procession.'"

"I don't know much about it," said Glyn; "only here in England in country places they make a great fuss over things like this. I asked Wrench yesterday, and he said that this was a menagerie belonging to a man who lives near and keeps his wild-beasts at a big farm-like place just outside the town."

"But why a procession?" said Singh impatiently.

"Oh, he takes them all round the country, going from town to town, and they are away for months, and now they are coming back."

"Menagerie! beast show!" said Singh thoughtfully. "They are all tame, of course?"

"Yes, of course," said Glyn. "It said lions and tigers and elephants and camels, and a lot more things on the bills. I should like to see them."

"You English are a wonderful people. My father used to have tigers-- three of them--a tiger, a tigress, and a nearly full-grown cub. But they were so fierce he got tired of keeping them, and when the tigress killed one of the keepers, you remember, he asked your father about it, and they settled that it would be best to kill them."

"Of course, I remember," said Glyn; "and they had a tiger-hunt, and let one out at a time, and had beaters to drive them out of the nullahs, and shot all three."

"Yes," said Singh thoughtfully; "and my father wouldn't let me go with him on his elephant, because he said it wouldn't be safe. Then these will all be tame tigers and lions? Well, I shall like to see them all the same, because it will make me feel like being at home once more. I say, when is your father coming down again?"

"Don't know," said Glyn quietly. "I did ask in my last weekly letter."

"Ah!" said the Indian boy with a sigh, "I wish I were you."

"Well, let's change," said Glyn laughing. "You envy me! Why, I ought to envy you."

"Why?" said Singh, staring.

"Why, because you are a maharajah, a prince; and when you grow old enough you are going back to Dour to rule over your subjects and be one of the biggest pots in Southern India."

"Well, what of that?" said Singh quietly. "What good will that do me? But of course the Colonel will come too."

"Ah, that remains to be seen," said Glyn. "That'll be years to come, and who knows what will happen before then?"

"I don't care what happens," cried Singh hotly. "He's coming back to India when I go. Why, he told me himself that my father made him my guardian, and that he promised to look after me as long as he lived. He said he promised to be a father to me. It was that day when I got into a passion about something, and made him so cross. But I was very sorry afterwards," said the boy quietly, "he's such a good old fellow, and made me like him as much as I did my own father."

"Well," said Glyn merrily, "you have always had your share of him. It has made me feel quite jealous sometimes."

"Jealous! Why?" said Singh wonderingly.

"Because he seemed to like you better than he did me."

"What a shame!" cried Singh. "Oh, I say, you don't mean that, do you, Glyn, old chap? Why, you don't know how fond he is of you."

"Don't I?"

"No; you should hear what he says about you sometimes."

"Says about me? What does he say about me?"

"Oh, perhaps I oughtn't to tell you," said Singh, showing his white teeth.

"Yes, do, there's a good fellow," cried Glyn, catching the other by the arm.

"Well, he said he should be proud to see me grow up such a boy as you are, and that my father wished me to take you for an example, for he wanted me to become thoroughly English--oh, and a lot more like that."

Glyn Severn was silent, and soon after, as the two boys turned, they saw a group of their schoolfellows coming down the field laden with bats and stumps, while one carried a couple of iron-shod stakes round which was rolled a stout piece of netting.

"Here," said Glyn suddenly, "let's go round the other side of the field. Old Slegge's along with them, and he'll be getting up a quarrel again. I don't want to fight; but if he keeps on aggravating like he did this morning I suppose I shall have to."

"But if we go now," said Singh, "it will look as if we are frightened. We seemed to run away before, only you made me come."

"Oh, it doesn't matter what seems," cried Severn irritably. "We know we are not frightened, and that's enough. Come on."

The two boys began to move slowly away; but they had not gone far before Slegge shouted after them, "Hi, you, sirs! I want you to come and field."

"Then want will be your master," said Severn between his teeth.--"Come on, Singh. Don't look round. Let's pretend we can't hear."

They walked steadily on for a few paces, Severn making-believe to be talking earnestly to his companion, when:

"Do you hear, there, you, sirs? Come here directly. I want you to field!"

"I dare say you do; cheeky great bully!" said Glyn softly. "I shan't come and field for you. The Doctor did not give us a holiday to-day to come and be your slaves."

"Hi, there! Are you coming, or am I to come and fetch you?" shouted Slegge, without any effect, and the big lad turned to Burney and gave him an order. The next minute the boy, armed with a stump, came running at full speed across the grass, shouting to the two companions to stop, but without their paying the slightest heed or increasing their pace.

The consequence was that the lad soon overtook them, to cry, rather out of breath, "Did you hear the captain call to you to come and field?"

Singh glanced at Glyn, who gave him a sharp look as he replied, "Yes, I heard him quite plainly."

The messenger stared with open eyes and mouth, as if it was beyond his comprehension.

"Then, why don't you come?" he cried.

"Because we are going up to the house," replied Glyn coolly, "to our dormitory."

"That you are not," cried Burney. "The rules say that the fellows are not to go up to their rooms between hours, and you have been here long enough to know that. Now then, no nonsense. Here, you, Singh, you've got to come and field while old Slegge practises batting, and Tompkins has got to bowl."

As the boy spoke in an unpleasant dictatorial way he made a thrust at Singh with the pointed stump he held; but quick as thought and before it was driven home, this third-part of a wicket was wrenched from his hand by Severn and sent flying through the air.

"How dare you!" shouted Burney, and he made a rush at Glyn to collar him and make him prisoner; but before he could reach the offending lad a foot was thrust out by Singh, over which he tripped and fell sprawling upon his face.

"Oh!" he shouted, half-beside himself with rage; and, scrambling up, he made a rush with clenched fists at the two boys, who now stood perfectly still awaiting his onslaught.

It was a thoroughly angry charge, but not a charge home; for Burney stopped some three or four yards short of the distance, with his rage evaporating fast and beginning to feel quite discreet.

For quite a minute the opponents stood gazing fiercely, and then what had threatened to become a cuffing encounter became verbal.

"Look here," cried Burney, "you two will get it for this. What am I to say to the captain?"

"Tell him to bowl for himself," said Singh sharply.

"Here! Hi! Burney, bring 'em along!" came from across the field and from between Slegge's hands. "Tell these beggars they had better not keep me waiting much longer!"

"All right!" shouted back Burney; and then to the two lads, "There, you hear. Come on at once, and as you are new chaps I won't tell on you. You had better come, or he'll pay you out by keeping you on bowling so that you can't go and see the show."

"Yes," said Glyn quietly. "Go back and tell him what Singh said."

"What!" cried Burney, staring with wonder. "Tell the captain he's to bowl for himself?"

"Yes," said Glyn coolly, "as long as he likes.--Come along, Singh;" and, throwing his arm over his Indian companion's shoulder, the two lads fell into military step and marched slowly towards the Doctor's mansion-like house.

"I am afraid it means a fight, Singh," said Glyn quietly. "Well, I dare say we can get over it. I am not going to knuckle down to that fellow. Are you?"

"Am I?" cried the boy, flashing a fierce look at his English companion. "What do you think?"

Glyn laughed softly and merrily.

"Shall I tell you?" he said.

"Yes, of course," cried the Indian boy hotly.

"Well, I think you will."

"What!"

"When you can't lift hand or foot, and your eyes are closing up so as you can hardly see."

"And I won't give up then!" cried the boy passionately.

"Well, don't get into a wax about it, old chap," said Glyn in a dry, slow way. "I don't suppose you'll have to, for the big chuckle-headed bully will have to lick me first, and I dare say I can manage to tire him so that you can easily lick him in turn."

"You are not going to fight him," cried Singh hotly.

"Yes, I am."

"You are not. He insulted my dead father. A mahout indeed!"

"So he did mine," said Glyn. "A shabby half-pay military officer indeed! I'll make _him_ look shabby before I have done."

"Now, look here," cried Singh, "don't be a beast, Glynny, and make me more angry than I am. I am bad enough as it is."

"So am I, so don't you get putting on the Indian tyrant. Recollect you are in England now. This is my job, and I know if father were here he'd say I was to have the first go in. He's such a big fellow that I believe he'll lick me easily. But, as I said before, I shall pretty well tire him out, and then you being the reserve, he'll come at you, and then he'll find out his mistake. And I say, Singhy, old chap, I do hope that my eyes won't be so closed that I can't see. Now then, come up to our room. It's a holiday, and the rules won't count to-day. Come on, and we'll talk it over."

"But--" began Singh.

"Now, don't be obstinate. You promised father you'd try and give way to me over English matters. Now, didn't you?"

"Well," said the lad hesitatingly, "I suppose I did."

"Come on, then. You see war's begun, and we have got to settle our plan of campaign."

The young Maharajah nodded his head and smiled.

"Yes," he said, "come up to our room. We ought to dress, oughtn't we, to see the procession? I say, I don't know how it is, I always like fighting against any one who tries to bully. I am not sorry that war has begun."

"Neither am I," said the English lad quietly, "for things have been very unpleasant ever since we came here, and when we've got this over perhaps we shall be at peace." _

Read next: Chapter 3. The Prince's Regalia

Read previous: Chapter 1. The New Boys

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