Jack Harkaway's Boy Tinker Among The Turks Part 27

Tinker gave a semi-savage yell, just to encourage his opponent, and then, with a most ferocious grin on his dark face, he sprang forward.

Bosja, scared out of his wits, struck wildly at random.

His scimitar came in contact with nothing but air, whilst Tinker gave him a slight prod with his sabre's point in the region of his baggy breeches.

Bosja felt it, and believing himself seriously wounded, uttered a doleful howl.

The crowd applauded.

Tinker hopped round him as nimbly as a tomt.i.t or a jackdaw, and presently gave him another little taste of his steel.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "TINKER HOPPED ROUND HIM NIMBLY, AND GAVE HIM ANOTHER TASTE OF THE STEEL."--TINKER. VOL. II.]

Bosja, fully impressed with the idea that he was bleeding to death, began to grow desperate.

Grasping his scimitar more firmly, he rushed in at his sable antagonist, but Tinker, by a skilful manoeuvre, locked his hilt in that of his foe's weapon, and wrested it from his hand, following up his advantage with a smart tap on Bosja's skull with the flat of his blade.

This was a settler for the Turk, who, under the pleasing conviction that his brains were knocked out, uttered a piteous groan, and fell fainting on the ground.

The spectators did not appear to relish the defeat of their countryman, and loud murmurs of discontent burst forth, in the midst of which the bashaw rose.

"Stop the fight, and arrest the murderer," he cried.

Several of the soldiers and a few of the spectators advanced with alacrity to obey the order, but Tinker suddenly delivered one of his startling war whoops and flourished a glittering scimitar in each of his hands.

Everyone stopped.

It seemed prudent to do so, for the negro grinned and gnashed his teeth like a dark demoniac, as he sharpened his weapons one upon the other, preparatory to some deadly work of destruction.

Having performed this operation, he cried--

"Now de amputashun goin' to begin!" and uttering another terrible yell, dashed in amongst the guards.

The soldiers, astonished and appalled, dropped their weapons and fled from the court, calling upon the Prophet to save them from the wild fiend.

Having got rid of the soldiers, Tinker tripped up Kallum Beg, and wresting his flute from his hand, helped that worthy individual to creep out on his hands and knees by the wholesome stimulant of the points of his two scimitars.

Next he sprang amongst the spectators, shrieking and flourishing his weapons.

What with the clash of the steel and the hideous outcry he made, the Moslem crowd were beside themselves with terror.

Struggling, shouting, and declaring that the devil himself was let loose, among them, they fought, and scratched, and pulled off turbans, and tumbled over each other till they reached the door.

The court was cleared.

All but the bashaw and his princ.i.p.al ministers, who still congregated round the judgment seat, blue with terror.

"Seize him! seize the imp of Jehanum!"

"Allah preserve me!" cried the potentate, who was holding on tenaciously to the vizier.

But the vizier made no attempt to obey his superior.

He was clinging to another vizier, imploring Allah to preserve him.

Up sprang Tinker, yelling and waving his sword.

"'Ssa.s.sinashun! spifl'cashun! string'lashun to de 'ole lot ob yah!" he shouted.

The officials did not wait to be operated upon.

"Look after the cash-box," gasped the bashaw, as he waddled down the steps.

The rest followed, forgetting everything but their own personal safety.

The cash box was left behind.

Tinker pounced upon it.

"'Ooray!" he shouted, triumphantly; "him got de flute and de cash-box as well. c.o.c.k-a-doodle-doo!"

Quick as lightning he rushed to the door.

At the entrance he encountered the bashaw, who had discovered his loss.

"Son of perdition, give me my property," he cried.

Tinker gave it him immediately--on his head.

The effect was stunning.

Down went the "Cream of Justice" and the "Flower of wisdom" senseless to the ground.

Tinker sprang over him, and hurried away with the swiftness of a deer.

The orphan had long since taken his flight.

But, to his great joy, he received from the brave negro not only his coin, but what he prized more--his flute.

CHAPTER LXVII.

MR. MOLE'S LETTER--A TRIP ASh.o.r.e--THE TURKISH BAZAAR--A MUSSULMAN SLIPPER MERCHANT--WONDER ON WONDERS--BY THE PIPER THAT PLAYED BEFORE MOSES, AN IRISH TURK.

It is now high time to give Mr. Mole's letter which threw young Jack Harkaway and his friend Harry Girdwood into such a state of excitement.