bcornwell.sharpstiger-第36节

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amboo　stick　that　stood　higher　than　a　man。　A　crude　tin　cone　tipped　the　iron　cylinder；　and　inside　the　cone　was　either　a　small　solid　shot　or　else　an　explosive　charge　that　was　ignited　by　the　rocket's　own　gunpowder　pro…pellant。　The　missiles　were　fired　by　lighting　a　twist　of　paper　that　emerged　from　the　base　of　the　iron　cylinders。　Some　of　the　rocket　tubes　had　been　wrapped　with　paper；　then　painted　with　either　snarling　tigers　or　verses　from　the　Koran。　There's　a　man　in　Ireland　working　on　a　similar　weapon；'　Lawford　told　Sharpe；　'though　I　don't　think　he　puts　tigers　on　his　rocket　heads。'
　'How　do　you　aim　the　bloody　things？'　Sharpe　asked。　Some　of　the　rockets　had　been　placed　ready　to　fire；　but　there　was　no　gun　barrel　to　direct　them；　instead　they　were　simply　laid　on　the　parapet　and　pointed　in　the　general　direction　of　the　enemy。
　'You　don't　really　aim　them；'　Lawford　said；　'at　least　I　don't　think　you　do。　They're　just　pointed　in　the　right　direction　and　fired。　They　are　notoriously　inaccurate；'　he　added；　'at　least　I　hope　they　are。'
　'We'll　see　soon　enough；'　Sharpe　said　as　another　handcart　of　the　strange　missiles　was　heaved　up　the　ramp　to　the　firestep。
　Sharpe　looked　forward　to　seeing　the　rockets　fired；　but　thenit　became　apparent　that　the　British　and　Hyderabad　armies　were　not　approaching　the　city　directly　and　thus　bringing　themselves　into　range；　but　instead　planned　to　march　clear　around　Seringapatam's　southern　margin。　The　progress　of　the　two　armies　was　painfully　slow。　They　had　appeared　at　dawn；　but　by　nightfall　they　had　still　not　pleted　their　half…circuit　of　the　island　on　which　Seringapatam　sat。　A　crowd　of　spectators　thronged　the　city　ramparts　to　watch　the　enormous　sprawl　of　herds；　battalions；　cavalry　squadrons；　guns；　civilians　and　wagons　that　filled　the　southern　landscape。　Dust　surrounded　the　armies　like　an　English　fog。　From　time　to　time　the　fog　thickened　as　a　group　of　the　Tippoo's　lancers　attacked　some　vulnerable　spot；　but　each　time　the　lancers　were　met　by　a　countercharge　of　allied　cavalry　and　more　dust　would　spew　up　from　the　horses'　hooves　as　the　riders　charged；　clashed；　circled　and　fought。　One　lancer　rode　back　to　the　city　with　a　British　cavalryman's　hat　held　aloft　on　his　spear　point　and　the　soldiers　on　the　walls　cheered　his　return；　but　gradually　the　greater　number　of　allied　cavalry　gained　the　upper　hand　and　the　cheers　died　away　as　more　and　more　of　the　Tippoo's　horsemen　splashed　back　wounded　through　the　South　Cauvery's　ford。　Some　of　the　enemy；　when　the　Tippoo's　cavalry　was　driven　away；　ventured　closer　to　the　city。　Small　groups　of　officers　trotted　their　horses　towards　the　river　so　that　they　could　examine　the　city　walls；　and　it　was　one　such　group　that　drew　the　first　rocket　fire。
　Sharpe　watched　fascinated　as　an　officer　turned　one　of　the　long　weapons　on　the　flat　top　of　the　parapet　so　that　its　tin　cone　pointed　directly　towards　the　nearest　group　of　horsemen。　The　rocketman　waited　beside　his　officer；　swinging　a　length　of　slow　match　to　keep　its　burning　end　bright　and　hot。　The　officer　fussed　with　the　rocket's　alignment；　then；　satisfied　at　last；　he　stepped　back　and　nodded　to　the　rocketman　who　grinned　and　touched　his　slow　match　to　the　twist　of　paper　at　the　rocket's　base。The　fuse　paper；　Sharpe　guessed；　had　been　soaked　in　water　diluted　with　gunpowder；　then　dried；　because　it　immediately　caught　the　glowing　fire　which　ate　its　way　swiftly　up　the　fuse　as　the　rocketman　stepped　hurriedly　away。　The　glowing　trail　vanished　into　the　iron　cylinder；　there　was　silence　for　a　second；　then　the　rocket　twitched　as　a　bright　flame　abruptly　choked　and　spat　from　the　tube's　base。　The　twitch　of　the　igniting　powder　charge　threw　the　heavy　rocket　out　of　its　careful　alignment；　but　there　was　no　chance　to　correct　the　weapon's　aim　for　a　jet　of　flame　was　spitting　fiercely　enough　from　the　cylinder　to　scorch　the　rocket's　quivering　bamboo　stick；　and　then；　very　suddenly；　the　bright　flame　roared　into　a　furnace…like　intensity　with　a　noise　like　a　huge　waterfall；　only　instead　of　water　it　was　spewing　sparks　and　smoke；　as　the　rocket　began　to　move。　It　trembled　for　an　instant；　scraped　an　inch　or　two　across　the　parapet；　then　abruptly　accelerated　away　into　the　air；　leaving　a　thick　cloud　of　smoke　and　a　scorch　mark　on　the　parapet's　coping。　For　a　few　seconds　it　seemed　as　if　the　rocket　was　having　trouble　staying　aloft；　for　the　long　scorched　tail　wobbled　as　the　fiery　tube　fought　against　gravity　and　as　the　smoke　trail　stitched　a　crazy　whorl　above　the　ditch　at　the　foot　of　the　wall；　but　then　at　last　it　gained　momentum　and　raced　away　across　the　glacis；　the　encampment　and　the　river。　It　spewed　a　tail　of　sparks；　fire　and　smoke　as　it　flew；　then；　as　the　powder　charge　began　to　be　exhausted；　the　rocket　fell　earthwards。　Beneath　the　missile　the　group　of　horsemen　had　collapsed　their　spyglasses　and　were　fleeing　in　every　direction　as　the　fire…tailed　demon　came　shrieking　out　of　the　sky。　The　rocket　struck　the　ground；　bounced；　tumbled；　then　exploded　with　a　small　crack　of　noise　and　a　burst　of　flame　and　white　smoke。　None　of　the　horsemen　had　been　touched；　but　their　panic　delighted　the　Tippoo's　men　on　the　bastions　who　gave　the　rocketmen　a　cheer。　Sharpe　cheered　with　them。　Farther　up　the　wall　a　cannon　fired　at　a　second　group　of　horsemen。　The　smoke　of　the　gun　billowed　out　across　the　encampment　beneath　thewalls　and　the　heavy　round　shot　screamed　across　the　river　to　disembowel　a　horse　a　half…mile　away；　but　no　one　cheered　the　gunners。　Guns　were　not　so　spectacular　as　rockets。
　'He's　got　thousands　of　those　bloody　things；'　Sharpe　told　Lawford；　indicating　a　pile　of　the　rockets。
　'They　really　aren't　very　accurate；'　Lawford　said　with　pedantic　disapproval。
　'But　fire　enough　at　once　and　you　wouldn't　know　if　you　were　in　this　world　or　the　next。　I　wouldn't　fancy　being　on　the　wrong　end　of　a　dozen　of　those　things。'
　Behind　them；　from　one　of　the　tall　white　minarets　of　the　city's　new　mosque；　the　muezzin　was　chanting　the　summons　for　the　evening　prayer　and　the　Muslim　rocketmen　hastened　to　unroll　their　small　prayer　mats　and　face　westwards　towards　Mecca。　Sharpe　and　Lawford　also　faced　west；　not　out　of　any　respect　for　the　Tippoo's　religion；　but　because　the　vanguard　of　British　and　Indian　cavalry　was　scouting　the　flat　land　beyond　the　South　Gauvery　which　was　plainly　visible　from　the　summit　of　the　Mysore　Gate。　The　main　body　of　the　two　armies　was　making　camp　well　to　the　south　of　the　city；　but　the　horsemen　had　ridden　ahead　to　reconnoitre　the　western　country　in　preparation　for　the　next　day's　short　march。　Sharpe　could　even　see　officers　pacing　out　and　marking　where　the　lascars　would　pitch　the　armies'　tents。　It　seemed　that　General　Harris　had　decided　to　attack　from　the　west；　the　one　direction　that　McCandless　had　warned　against。
　'Poor　bloody　fools；'　Sharpe　said；　though　neither　he　nor　Lawford　yet　knew　what　was　dangerous　about　the　western　defences。　Nor　had　they　been　given　the　slightest　chance　to　escape　from　the　city。　They　were　never　unwatched；　they　were　never　allowed　to　stand　guard　at　night；　and　Sharpe　knew　that　even　the　smallest　attempt　to　break　away　from　the　city　would　lead　to　immediate　death；　yet　they　were　not　otherwise　treated　badly。　They　had　been　accepted　well　enough　by　their　new　rades；　but　Sharpe　could　detect　a　reserve　and　he　supposedthat　until　he　and　Lawford　proved　their　reliability　there　would　always　be　an　undercurrent　of　suspicion。　'It　ain't　that　they　don't　trust　you；'　Henry　Hickson　had　explained　on　their　first　night；　'but　till　they've　actually　seen　you　bang　a　few　bails　off　at　your　old　mates；　they　won't　really　know　whether　you're　stout。'　Hickson　was　sewing　up　the　frayed　edge　of　his　leather　thumbstall　which　protected　his　hand　when　a　cannon　was　swabbed　out。　The　gunner　had　to　stop　the　touchhole　so　that　the　rammer　could　not　drive　a　jet　of　fresh　air　down　the　barrel　and　so　ignite　any　scraps　of　remaining　powder；　and　Hickson's　old　and　blackened　thumbstall　betrayed　how　long　he　had　been　an　artilleryman。　'Had　this　in　America；'　Hickson　said；　flourishing　the　ancient　scrap　of　leather。　'Stitched　for　me　by　a　little　girl　in　Charleston。　Lovely　little　thing　she　was。'
　'How　long　have　you　been　in　the　artillery？'　Lawford　had　asked　the　grey…haired　Hickson。
　'Bleeding　lifetime；　Bill。　Joined　in　'76。'　Hickson　laughed。　'King　and　country！　Go　and　save　the　colonies；　eh？　And　all　I　did　was　march　up　and　down　like　a　little　lost　lamb　and　only　ever　fired　a　dozen　shots。　I　should　have　stayed　there；　shouldn't　I；　when　they　kicked　us　out；　but；　like　a　fool；　I　didn't。　Went　to　Gibraltar；　polished　cannon　for　a　couple　of　years；　then　got　posted　out　here。'
　'So　why　did　you　run？'　Lawford　asked。
　'Money；　of　course。　The　Tippoo　might　be　a　black　heathen　bastard；　but　he　pays　well　for　gunners。　When　he　pays　at　all；　of　course；　which　isn't　precisely　frequent；　but　all　the　same　he　ain't　done　bad　by　me。　And　if　I'd　stayed　in　the　gunners　I　wouldn't　have　met　Suni；　would　I？'　He　had　jerked　his　calloused　thumb　towards　his　Indian　woman　who　was　cooking　the　evening　meal　with　the　wives　of　the　other　soldiers。
　'Don't　you　ever　worry　that　you'll　be　recaptured？'　Lawford　asked　him。
　'Of　course　I　bloody　worry！　All　the　bleeding　time！'　Hickson　held　the　thumbstall　close　to　his　right　eye　to　judge　the　neatnessof　his　stitching。　'Christ；　Bill；　I　don't　want　to　be　stood　up　against　a　bleeding　post　with　a　dozen　bastards　staring　d