A TERRIBLE REVENGE.

Northland Age, Volume 2, Issue 50, 17 July 1906, Page 2

A TERRIBLE REVENGE.

—V" - •; Thin story may read like fiction, or as an incident relating to the 15th ’century, but really it is true—true although this is the 20th century, and tho world is considered civilised. In a Singhalese village was a tyrannous money-lender, who by dint of years of cunning had obtained a grip upon almost every inhabitant. At last his demands became too great, and a meeting was held in secret to consider the matter, and it was calmly resolved that he should die. “Better that one should suffer than many.”

This decision was acted on, and shortly after dark the conspirators met at a neighbouring tenement and waited patiently till midnight. Lots were drawn as to who should enter and tackle Ismail, and eight men were chosen. The rest were to surround the house and prevent escape. There was a slight moon and by, its light alone they silently, approached the house, and effectually surrounded it. One of them then stepped stealthily forward, and tapped gently at the door. When the door was opened they, with a shout, rushed upon the hated one, endeavouring their utmost to tie £>fm hand and foot with the ropco the? had brought with them. .

But Ismail was a strong and resolute man, and, surprised and overpowered by numbers as he was, yet he fought like Samson himself.- Tho very number of his assailants were in his favour, for the room was small and as dark m pitch. The frail walls of mucl and sticks rocked too and fro as the combat was fought out amidst darkness, blows, shouts, and curses.

Tho little house obviously could not stand-their melee very long, and so presently, with a crash like thunder, the whole side wall fell out, and a tumbling, writhing, cursing mass of humanity fell out into the moonlight. Yet two* assailants to each limb were insufficient to conquer Ismail and it was not till overborne by f.’toh members that he finally bo-ind hand and foot and earried to a giant cocoa-nut palm which grew in the centre of the village. There the conquered lomail was laid on his back—concuiered, it is true, but ijot subdued, for he still glared and hurled defiant cursea at his enemies.

Carefuljy approaching their prisoner, they bound fresh ropes round and round body, pinioning. his 'sans securely to his sides. They then Inhered him to the trunk of the big cocoa-nut tree with about thirty feet of strong rope, and, with a few slashes 77ith a sharp knife, they severed the thongs which bow'd his lears. Ismail was now free to get up on his legs, though he could only move in circled round the tree. It was some time, however, before the man could recover himself sufficiently to rise, as he had been very roughly handled, Rise he did, however, presently, to strain and tug at his thenfre and make futile dashes at his enemies. The latter for their part, had not been idle, and, joined by many .other villagers they now su~Toundrd their prisoner in a dense circle, holding torches of flaming rags steeped in oil above their heads and mocking him. Tq enhance this weird spectacle the Buddhist priest stepped out, his clean-shaven skull shining and flickering in the torchlight. A gun was produced, and the ceremony of loading it was performed in front of everyone. First the priest blessed the gun ; then, in turn, the powder and bullets ; and finally, when the weapon was loaded, he blenoed the man who had been chosen to shoot Ismail.

Then the crowd opened right and left, and held br~th in silence as the gun was brought to bear on their victim. B_t Isr\a\ had no intention of sitting c'jill to be shot. No soonfir did he see the gun pc/, n ted in his direction tliuu he bounded out of the line of fire, and thus tl:o wczry dance of death went on before the mocking crowd.

As soon as the first man got tired of stalkLxj his retorting pris__:er anoU>r of the chosen eight stepped forward' and took liis place, Ismail not one moment’s rest frtin immh'ant death. Ever _>d a'ron the prisoner would retreat to his tree and endeavour to entice his enemies within the thirty-foot circle. Then, with a bound of a pznther, he would leap forward and struggle with all his great strength to free his pinioned arms to reach: one of his tormentors.

Morning dawned, and found the spectators increased to a great crowd, while Ismail still retreated and dodged the threatening muzzle. But even his great strength and indurancc were drawing to an end, and between ten and eleven o’clock the same morning, exhausted with his struggle with death, he sank forward on his knees, and was shot through the heart.—J. H. G. in the “Weekly Telegraph”