No objection was raised by anyone, even to the proposal for getting rid of all the luggage; and as soon as the matter was arranged, a general disposition towards cheerfulness was manifested.

Everyone had felt that the danger of passing Cawnpore would be immense, and this plan for avoiding it seemed to lift a load from their minds.
It was settled they should land at some spot where the river was bordered by bushes and young trees; that stout poles should be cut, and blankets fastened between them, so as to form stretchers on which the sick could be carried.
As far as possible the boats were kept on the left side of the river, but at times shallows rendered it necessary to keep over by the right bank.

Whenever they were near the shore, silence was observed, lest the foreign tongue should be noticed by anyone near the bank.
Night fell, and they still continued their course.

An hour after sunset they were rowing near the right bank--the Major had fallen into a sort of doze, and Isobel was sitting next to Bathurst, and they were talking in low tones together--when suddenly there was a hail from the shore, not fifty yards away.
"What boats are those ?" "Fishing boats going down the river," one of the boatmen answered.
"Row alongside, we must examine you." There was a moment's pause, and then the Doctor said in the native language, "Row on, men," and the oars of both boats again dipped into the water.
"We are pressed for time," the young Zemindar shouted, and then, dropping his voice, urged the men to row at the top of their speed.
"Stop, or we fire," came from the shore.
No answer was returned from the boats; they were now nearly opposite the speaker.

Then came the word--"Fire." Six cannon loaded with grape were discharged, and a crackle of musketry at the same moment broke out.