wall. Luckily, a slight shower just then
drove the sentinels under cover, and the
fugitives could see them sitting smoking
round a fire in the verandah. The
captives then cleared the outer wall, and,
escaping another guard, proceeded straight
to the precipice, of which they knew
neither the exact height nor nature.
Bristowe having offered to lead, threw
himself on his hands and slid down the rock,
greatly terrified by the rapidity with which
he fell until he caught hold of the branches
of a small tree at the bottom and so
brought himself to an anchor. The twelve
others soon joined him, and just then,
as they had calculated, the moon began
to shine. They now crept on all fours
through a thorny thicket, and reached the
wood that belted the foot of the rock.
Half through it they were alarmed by the
challenge of a frightened sentry, who, hearing
the leaves rustling, thought a tiger was
upon him. Bristowe then turned further
up the rock, and, moving round to the other
side, struck into the wood where the cliff
was not so steep and where there were no
guards. His design was to push northward
and so get into the Nizam's
dominions.

In this thicket Bristowe missed his
comrades, whom he never saw again. He
believed that they deserted him, fearing he
might be an incumbrance: as he was not
yet quite recovered of a fever. About two
o'clock, when he disentangled himself from
the thicket, he heard the sound of trumpets
and tomtoms. He felt afraid that his
companions had disregarded his instructions
and stumbled on an out-post; still, determined
to persevere, he pushed northward
over the plains which bordered the forest.
From that moment, strange to say, his fever
left him for good. About five miles along
the plain, he came upon a mud-fort, which
he did not discover until he was challenged
by a sentry on the wall. Returning no
answer and making a circuit, the fugitive
hurried on till daybreak, when he found
himself within twenty paces of two of Tippoo's
troopers who were cooking their victuals
on the banks of a tank. It being too late
to avoid them, Bristowe muffled himself
in his blanket, hoping to pass them as a
beggar or peasant, unnoticed. As he
slunk by them he heard them discussing
who he was. One said, "That's certainly a
European," but the other replied, "You fool,
how dare a European come here; don't you
see it is a woman?" At that instant
Bristowe's irons accidentally rattled; taking
the sounds for that of the brass rings worn
by Hindoo women on their arms and legs,
the soldiers suffered him to pass
uninterrupted. Bristowe rested in a wood all
next day; his irons had worked a deep
hole in his leg, and his feet were very sore
from traversing the sharp-pointed rocks.
All that day he employed in freeing
himself of his chains, and before night he had
got them off with the help of his large
knife from the prison. Though without
food, the released man now felt exhilarated
and refreshed. For four days he struggled
over a range of rough-wooded hills that
ran between Bangalore and Seringapatam—
four days without food or water —so that
he became so weak and reduced, that he
felt, unless the next day brought relief, he
must perish. He lay down on the fourth
night, and, in spite of gnawing hunger,
fell asleep.

Next morning (the 4th of December) he
rose almost in despair, but, tottering along,
was fortunate enough to discern a group of
small huts amongst the hills. This sight
cheered and roused the unhappy fugitive,
who had before experienced the kind-
ness of the simple-hearted people. He
approached the hamlet, and asked an old
woman for charity; while he talked to
her, other old women came out of their
huts, and brought him boiled raggy and
gram-water, made into a curry: a delicious
repast for the poor wanderer, who now
passed himself off as a rajpoot. Pitying
him, the women brought warm water,
bathed his feet, gave him some cakes, and
warned him against a Polygar fort which
was in the road he had planned to take.
Bristowe left the hospitable hamlet, with
a heart overflowing with gratitude, and
reconciled once more to life and
mankind.

The following morning he luckily came
to a clump of trees, bearing wholesome
berries, in shape and size resembling
sloes; of these he made a meal, carrying
also a store away with him. Three days
more he pushed on northward, as much as
possible among the woods. Everywhere
there was danger. On a plain he was at
last compelled to cross, he one day saw two
tigers, not a hundred paces from him, and
coming straight towards him. He did not
lose his presence of mind, and the
creatures did not notice him until they were
exactly opposite him, when, to his extreme
joy, they slunk away, with their tails
between their legs. Bristowe, who had always
heard that tigers would only attack men by