CHAPTER XLI.
I have told you of my popularity among the Thugs, and when it becameknown that a new expedition was planned, and would set out after theDussera, so many men offered themselves that I was obliged to rejectnumbers, and select those whom I knew, from experience and character,would be likely to behave best. Among them were a few who wereexcellent musicians and singers. I had before, on many occasions, feltthe want of such men, to amuse travellers with whom I had fallen in;and these were particularly acceptable to me at the present time, asthe expedition was a large one; and the country being quieter and moresettled than it had been for some years, we were assured that the roadswould be full of persons of rank and consequence travelling to and fromtheir homes. In order that our band might have the greater appearanceof respectability, I begged of my father to accompany us; for hisvenerable appearance and polished manners would, I was certain, do moreto insure us success than all our most cunning stratagems.
Nor was I neglectful of the Rajah; from time to time I visited hisdurbar, and was always received with the greatest civility andattention, as indeed I deserved; for not only was I a good servantto him, but as numbers of Thugs had settled around me in differentvillages, the revenue they paid for his protection and connivance atour work amounted to a handsome sum yearly; and I need not say it waspunctually paid, for upon this mainly depended our concealment. Inthe last expedition, however, I had pleaded poverty on my return, andthough I could have well spared five thousand rupees from my own share,I was content with presenting as my nuzzur a gun I had purchased inBombay for two hundred rupees, and a small string of pearls which I hadfound among the treasure of the Rokurreas; and he seemed satisfied; butit was merely the feigned content which precedes a violent outbreakof discontent or passion. He was our bitter, deadly enemy, though hecloaked his designs under the garb of friendship, and was graduallyperfecting his schemes for our destruction.
We set out. I have nothing new or interesting to relate to you of themanner in which our preparations were made and completed. Azima too,poor soul, never dreamed of what we were: it was enough for her to knowthat every new expedition brought her new ornaments and better clothes,and enabled her to live in a higher and more expensive manner. I hadbeen enabled to add greatly to my house, and it was now as comfortableand spacious as I could desire. She knew too that, with increasedwealth, she could look for a higher alliance for our daughter, ouronly child; and she had even now received proposals of marriage forher, some of which were in every way advantageous, and with personsunconnected with our profession, of which I was glad; for, knowing fullwell that one mischance, or one traitor among us, would hurl me at oncefrom my prosperity, I was desirous of marrying her to some one whocould protect her, and be free from any dangers similar to those I wasmyself exposed to.
I however bade Azima wait, because (as I told her) the journey Iwas about to undertake would be infallibly prosperous, and a freshaddition to our already ample means would enable us to have themarriage ceremony performed in a manner fitting or perhaps exceedingour pretensions. She readily acceded to my request; for if there beone thing more than another about which a matron of Hindostan issolicitous, it is the marriage of her child; not as regards happinessI must own, though perhaps there may be a lurking wish that she maybe happy; but the main matter is, that her clothes shall be of thebest and richest materials, her jewels many and of value, and thewhole of the establishment which she takes to her new lord of the mostsubstantial description; that they may last her for years, and procurefor her mother the goodwill of the female members of her husband'sfamily. Nothing is productive of more quarrels among the femalesthan that anything should appear indifferent; remarks are made, andreproaches are bandied about between the united families; and out ofthese soon grows an enmity which never cools. Many a marriage, whichpromised well at its outset, has been marred in its joyous terminationby fault being found with the equipments of the bride, which are alwayssubmitted for inspection to her female relations before they become herown property for ever.
But I am digressing, and must return to my own adventures. We leftJhalone as before, upwards of three hundred Thugs, under my father,Ganesha, Peer Khan, and myself. We gave out along the road that we wereservants of the Nizam, and were returning to our service at Hyderabadafter our periodical leave of absence; this was necessary, for ournumbers without it would have provoked suspicion.
Never shall I forget the first matter we took in hand; not that therewas anything remarkable in the destruction of four men, but it wasattended by a sad result, which damped the spirits of the party formany days afterwards, and from which _one_ never recovered. Peer Khanhad a nephew, a boy of about ten years old, a noble little fellow,beautiful in his features, and intelligent beyond his years. As you mayimagine, he was a great favourite among us all, and I had repeatedlyasked Peer Khan to allow me to adopt him as my son, to supply the placeof the child I had lost: but he would not hear of it, for the child wasthe son of a beloved sister who was dead; the boy's father had alsodied about two years before, and Peer Khan had taken him to his home,and loved him as his own.
The little fellow rode a spirited pony which I had given him, wasalways in the van of the party, and amused us by his mimic feats ofhorsemanship and by his intelligent prattle: he could never be keptbehind; and when the time came that the four men were to meet theirfate, we had given him in charge to those who brought up the rear,with strict orders that on no account was he to be permitted to comeon after us. Peer Khan also had desired him to keep with these people,as he was going off the road to a village at some distance; and he hadpromised obedience. Yet all our precautions were of no avail;--howcould they be, when what followed had evidently been written in hisdestiny?
I had just given the jhirnee, and the four miserable men were writhingin the agonies of death, one of them too was shrieking, when, Ya Alla!who should come galloping up but Alum Khan, the boy I have mentioned.His first exclamation was of triumph that he had caught us; but howcan I tell the look of horror to which his countenance was instantlychanged when he saw what was going on! His eyes became fixed, and werewide open, his tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth, he uttered nosound, but clasped his hands in agony; and before I could dismount, oreven Peer Khan, who was superintending the work, he had fallen from hispony insensible.
"What shall we do?" cried I to Peer Khan, as we raised him up andstrove to comfort him. "Speak to him; a word from you may arouse him."
"My child, my child!" cried Peer Khan, in accents of terror and misery;"oh speak to me! one word only--you are killing your parent. Ya Alla!"continued he, raising his hands to heaven, "grant that this swoon maypass away, and that he may speak; I will feed a hundred Fakeers inthy name, O merciful Prophet! if thou wilt but intercede and grant myprayer." But it was of no avail; the poor boy lay senseless, though hiseyes were fixed and staring, and not a word could he utter. The Thugs,too, had left the dead, and were all around us. There was a rivuletclose by, in which the bhil had been prepared; I thought of water, andbid one of the men run for some. It was brought, and I poured it intohis mouth. "He revives,--his lips move!" cried Peer Khan, in an ecstasyof delight, "He speaks!" And the poor boy did speak.
"Where am I, uncle?" said he, in a faint voice. "Where am I? What haveI seen?" And he passed his hands over his eyes.
"Nothing, nothing," cried his uncle; "you have fallen from your pony,that is all. You should not ride so hard, my child; you might have beenkilled."
"No, no," said the boy; "I did not fall. I saw--Alla save me! save me,uncle! Oh, look at their eyes and faces--there they lie. Oh, kill me, Icannot bear it! I shall die."
Unhappy child! he had again seen their faces,--we had never thought ofthe dead. One of the bodies lay close to us, the distorted featuresgrinning horribly; and it had fallen against a bank, so that he saw itsitting half upright--a dreadful spectacle for a child.
"Take it away, take it away!" he shouted, in his infant voice. "I shalldie! Oh, bury me! I shall never forget the fa
ce and the eyes--they willbe ever before me!"
"Away with them!" cried I; and as I turned again to the child, he hadsunk on his face in the sand of the road, and was endeavouring to hidehimself in it,--he was in strong convulsions.
"Alla! Alla! what shall I do!" cried Peer Khan. "Oh, Meer Sahib, byyour soul, by your mother's honour, do something! Save that child, andI will be your slave till the end of my days; I will serve you on myknees,--I will be your menial."
"What can be done?" said I. "All we can do is to stay with him, andcomfort him when the paroxysm is past. He will revive soon and forgetall."
Poor boy, how he strove in his convulsions! He could not speakintelligibly; he foamed at the mouth; his lips grew livid andcontracted; his eyes, when he opened them, seemed sunk into his head.I had never seen such terror before, nor could I have believed that itwould have had such an effect on any one. We carried him to the edgeof the stream, and by dint of bathing his face, and forcing water intohis mouth, he partly revived. He had just opened his eyes again, when,by a miserable chance, they fell upon one of the turbans of the deadmen, with which I had been wiping his face. It had an instantaneouseffect on him; his screams broke out afresh, nothing could console him,and we were in dreadful alarm about him. What to do we knew not; wewere far away from any human habitation; and even had we been near one,we dared not have called in any hukeem to see him, for his incoherentravings would have too truly exposed our doings. We sat by the boyin fearful apprehensions that every throe and convulsion would causehis death; at last we raised him up and placed him on his pony, andhad succeeded in conveying him about a coss while he was in a stateof insensibility; but it was of no avail. Again he awoke from histemporary unconsciousness, and we were obliged to take him down, andlay him on a bank at the side of the road, while we fanned his face andendeavoured to compose him.
But he was greatly reduced in strength, his moans were feebler andfeebler; and though he now opened his eyes and gazed calmly around him,it was but too plain to us that the delicate flower had been blighted,and was fast withering under the terror which possessed him. Peer Khanwas in a dreadful state; he raved, he entreated, he prayed; he kneltdown beside the poor sufferer, and bedewed his face with his tears,which were fast falling; but no mercy was shown him. We sat thus tilllong past mid-day; numerous travellers passed us, all commiserating thechild's state of suffering, but they shook their heads as they left us,with a firm conviction that he must die.
And he did die! towards evening the pure spirit fled from the sufferingbody, and we were left alone in the wild waste with the dead.
"It is of no use lamenting now," said I to Peer Khan, as he sat, hishands clasped in anguish, rocking himself to and fro, and moaning andsobbing as though his spirit would break. "It is of no use, brother,the boy is dead, and we must carry the body on to the stage, which isnot very far distant."
"Do as you will," he replied: "as for me my heart is broken; I shallnever look up again. He was the life of my soul, and without him whatshall I do? what shall I do?"
But we raised the body up, and at times carrying it, at others placingit before us on our horses, we conveyed it to the camp. Our absencehad been known; but as its cause was also known, none of the Thugs hadcome out to meet us. We laid down our sad burden in my tent, a gravewas quickly dug, and it was buried by torch-light, amidst the tears andlamentations of the whole band; for the boy was beloved by all.
Peer Khan came to me in the dead of the night, and awoke me from arestless slumber, in which the dreams of the sad scene had fearfullymingled. I was glad that he had come, but not for what followed.
"Meer Sahib," said he, after a long silence, "I am not what I was,--Inever shall be again; I am broken in spirit, and am no longer fit formy profession. My fate too points against it, and after this dreadfulcatastrophe I should be useless to you; permit me therefore to depart.You see I am calm and composed, and I do not say what I now urge on youin passion or grief; therefore let me depart. I will go to my home, andin solitude endeavour to make the remainder of my life acceptable toAlla, who has visited me with this affliction. Nor will it be long erethe earth covers me; I feel that this blow has shaken me to my soul,and it will bow me down to the grave."
I saw it was useless to argue with him: his features were stamped withdespair, and to contravene a man's fate is impossible. It is the willof Alla, and what mortal can oppose it? It must have its course.
"Go," said I, "Peer Khan; may peace be with you, and the blessing ofthe Prophet! I feel for you. I shall ever grieve with you; but if, inafter-times, your inclination leads you to join me, I need not say howgladly I shall avail myself of your services. We have been friends andbrothers, and we part such, I hope, after years of a sincere and mutualaffection."
He could not reply to me--he wrung my hands, while the big tears rolledfrom his eyes over his manly features: he made attempts to address me,but the words stuck in his throat; and at length throwing himself at myfeet, he kissed them, and embraced my knees: he then arose, and aftergazing on me for a moment, with features working under the effects ofsuppressed emotion, he rushed from my presence for ever--ay, for ever!When we returned to Jhalone he was dead; his grief had killed him!
He had been more to me than any of my other companions, and deeply Isorrowed over his untimely fate. I said this event threw a gloom overour party, which did not pass away for many days; but gradually the menassumed their wonted cheerfulness, and again the song, the jest, andthe tale were heard in our merry and light-hearted camp. Nor was themore serious part of our object neglected. Within a march or two ofJubbulpoor, we had heard that a Moonshee, stated to be a man of greatwealth, was travelling before us to Nagpoor, and we made an effort toovertake him. We effected this march from Jubbulpoor, on the Nagpoorside, and were now entering on our best ground; I say our best, asthere were but few inhabitants in that miserable country.
We overtook the Moonshee; but had it not been that we were nearly threehundred Thugs in number, we should have hesitated to attack so large aparty as his. He had two good-sized tents, horses, camels, a palankeenand bearers, and servants; and we deliberated long over the matter. Theomens, however, having been consulted, were found to be favourable, andtherefore we hesitated no longer, but now laid our plans to effect anobject which promised so much plunder.
We encamped close to the Moonshee for two days; of course this led tointercourse. Hearing that we were respectable persons, he sent to myfather and myself to come to him on the second evening, and we went.The Moonshee was in the employment of the Europeans; he had served withthe force at Jalna, under General Doveton, though we could not makeout whether he was a servant of that officer or not; but he spoke ofhim in such terms as led us to suppose he was. He told us that now thecountry was settled, he had obtained leave to go to Hindostan, and wasreturning with his wife and child. We spent a pleasant evening withhim, for he was a man of extensive information, and amused us withmany anecdotes and accounts of the Feringhees, of whom he spoke interms of the highest praise, and undeceived us as to many particularswe had heard of them, and materially removed many of our prejudicesagainst them. I respected them more from what he said than I had everdone before; for though every one acknowledged they were good and bravesoldiers, it was said they were vicious, and debauched, and drunken.At one or two questions of mine the Moonshee laughed immoderately. Iasked him once why the Europeans eat with knives and forks, and spoons,instead of with their fingers, which God had given them.
"Yes," said my father, "old as I am I have never been able to find thisout. Tell us, for you know, as you have yourself seen them eat."
"Tell me what you have heard," said the Moonshee, "and I will give youan answer."
"It appears so extraordinary," said I, "that I can hardly believe it;for why should not all men be the same? Nevertheless, I have heard,and from what I thought to be good authority, that their finger-nailscontain poison, and therefore they dare not risk the chance of theirdrawing blood, nay more, of touching their food."
/> How he laughed! I thought he would never have ended; and I felt nettledthat my remark should have given rise to such immoderate mirth. I couldhear, too, from the tittering behind the division of the tent, thatthe women were also provoked to merriment at my expense. At last hesaid,--"No, no, Meer Sahib, this is folly. Who could have told you sucha lie? What if their skins be white and their faces ruddy, are they notthe same flesh and blood as we are? They eat with spoons and knivesbecause it is the custom of their country, and because they do not liketo soil their hands; besides, their style of cookery is different toours; for instance, they roast half a sheep and eat it, and how couldthey do so without the implements they use?"
"I confess my ignorance," said I, "and am ashamed to put any morequestions to you about them, so shall believe henceforward that all Ihave heard are lies." Yet I longed at the same time to ask more abouttheir drinking scenes, and the meaning of the words, "Hip! hip! hip!"which I fully believed to be of mystic import.
It was late when we separated; but before we did so we agreed totravel in company, and to pass our evenings together. This was what wewanted; our success was inevitable should we succeed in getting himon one or two marches further, as the villagers there knew us, wereour friends, and for a small consideration would keep themselves totheir houses, and allow us to do what we liked. I have not mentionedthis before, Sahib, for you very well know that it is the case. Wehave friends wherever we go; we bribe all we can, and have our agentsin every part of the country in the disguise of Fakeers or merchants.Some zemindars fear us, others bully us and extort large sums from us,but they are generally faithful; and without their help and connivancedo you think we could effect anything? We could not. In the Nizam'scountry particularly we are well aided. Many of the zemindars haveThugs in regular pay, whom they have been in the habit of sending outon the road; some are content with a certain sum a year; others, whofear so close a connexion with us, now and then pretend to arrest us,and get as much as they can; and as there is no police of any kind,they are not afraid of their dealings being brought to light. I myselfknow but little of how these matters are managed there,--I mean frompersonal experience; but I have heard from others, and in particularfrom Motee, who led a gang of Thugs for some years all over theHuzoor's dominions, and told me, that so long as he paid the potailsof villages, the zemindars, and the revenue servants _handsomely_, hehad no obstruction; that hundreds of others did the same, and practisedtheir profession so openly, that they often never took the troubleof burying the bodies of those they destroyed. You know that this istruth, Sahib, and therefore I need hardly mention it. But to my story.
We reached the village we wished to gain--a miserable hamlet calledBiseynee; but the Potail was in our interest, and a present of twentyrupees now and then, with sometimes a new turban, gained us his silenceand co-operation. I say co-operation, for he often gave over passengersto Thugs, by declaring that his village was unsafe, and that they mustgo and encamp outside with the rest--who were the Thugs. He knew wellwhat would become of them; but he was, as I have said, paid for histreachery.
Well, we reached Biseynee. I had purchased for the worthy Potail ahandsome turban and waistband, and had prepared for him a number ofother articles, one of which was an English pistol, which he had sentword by a Thug that I was to purchase for him. As soon as I arrived,I went into the village to him, and in his own house tied the turbanon his head, presented him with the gifts I had prepared, and added apurse of twenty rupees.
"Ha!" said he, "what now, Meer Sahib? you are not used to be soliberal. What bunij have you, that you are come with it to my poorplace, to give it a worse name than it has already?"
"Oh, none," said I, carelessly; "you know I have not been this way forsome years, and these are to prove that I have not forgotten you."
"Thanks for your kindness; may your condescension increase," said he;"but the bunij, Meer Sahib? You are a cunning gentleman; I know youof old. Who is he in the tents yonder? and why have so many Thugscollected here? You cannot conceal your designs from me."
"Nor do I wish it," said I; "but remember our old compact."
"I do--I do," said he, hurriedly; "but times are changed, and with themmy masters. Know you not that this country belongs to the Sahib-logue?"
"And what of that, Potailjee?" said I; "what difference does it make?"
"None," he replied, "to _me_; but have you not seen the horsemen?"
"What horsemen?" cried I.
"Six," said he, "and a Duffadar. My poor village, it seems, has a badname for thieves; and they have sent a party here to guard it. Allahelp us, and keep the bread in our mouths!"
"And the Duffadar, what is he like?"
"He is a Hindoo," said the Potail, "and a Bhojpooree; he is calledHittah Singh; his men, too, are all of his tribe."
"Bhojpoorees!" said I; "then I dare say they are Thugs. What Bhojpooreewas ever an honest man?"
"No, they are not Thugs, Meer Sahib, for I have tried them with thepassword. But, between you and me, I think my friend Hittah Singh onlywants an opportunity to be as great a rascal as I am myself,--may Allapardon me!"
"I have no doubt of it," said I. "Where is he?"
"Shall I call him?"
"Do so," said I. "If I cannot persuade him, I will bully him; and, ifthe worst comes to the worst, you know we are more than three hundredto six, and they would have but little chance."
"True, Meer Sahib; but no violence, I pray; have some consideration formy good name. If the Europeans heard of violence having been done, theywould turn me out of my place."
"And you would turn Thug, I suppose. But quick, Potailjee, call the manhere."
He was absent for a short time, and returned with a short mean-lookingfellow; and I could plainly see that rascal was written on hiscountenance. You know the old proverb--"Chor ke daree men, tinka"(there is always a straw in a thief's beard). Salutations wereexchanged, and I came to the point at once.
"Look you, Duffadar Sahib," said I to him, "you may have guessed whatwe are?" He nodded assent. "This is good," I continued, "as perhaps youmay have guessed at our object."
"Partly," said he; "but what do I know about you?"
"Exactly," said I--"the very thing I want; you need know nothing, andyou will have nothing to tell if you are ever asked. Take my advice,and remain quietly within your village; and if the earth turns upsidedown you are not to stir out. For this you shall be well paid. But ifyou molest us, remember we are three hundred to seven--fearful odds, myfriend."
"Nay, I am wise," said he; "what Bhojpooree is not? Nor do I wish tointerfere. Do what you like; neither I nor my men will stir a foot."
"Can you depend on them?" said I; "can they be close?"
"As close as you wish them to be, Jemadar; but we must be paid."
"Certainly," said I; "I would not have it otherwise: but the rewarddepends on what we get."
"Say two hundred rupees," said the fellow; "it is worth your while."
"Well, it is a bargain, Duffadar," I replied, "and the Potail iswitness. And now I will give you further advice, which is, that you areto know nothing and see nothing, if even the lord Sahib were to askyou. You are to know only that travellers came and departed, and youkept no account of them."
"Of course," said the fellow; "I know this of old. I have met partiesof your people in my own country, and have no reason to be dissatisfiedwith them: they have always behaved like men of honour, and kept theirwords with me."
"Then we are agreed?" said I.
"Certainly; you will see nought of us, and I will come to you at nightfor my money."
"You had better come now, Duffadar, as I think we shall move on afterit is all over."
"Do you go, Potailjee; it would not look well for me to go with theSyud Sahib. Do you go, and bring the money."
"Come then," said I, "we are losing time."
"Shall you return soon?" asked the Duffadar of me.
"I know not," I replied; "but it is probable. At any rate, as thiscountry always pr
oduces good booty for us, you will see us here prettyoften."
"The oftener the better," said he; "and I must continue to keepmy station here; it would be hard to lose such good friends. You,Potailjee, can help me to a few low caste rascals from time to time, tosend in as thieves we have caught."
"Certainly," said the Potail--"there are plenty of Gonds and Dhers inthe country; every one knows they are thieves; and if they may notimmediately have committed any robberies, they have been engaged inthem some time or other, so that it is all the same. I will get you afew from time to time, as you want them."
"Now and then I shall require a few," said he, "just to keep up mycharacter and appearances, and a few years in irons will do none ofthem any harm--the government will take care of them."
I could not help laughing heartily at the cool manner in which this wasproposed and accepted. But it was the truth; and I know that it was,and is now, a matter of every-day occurrence. Many a Duffadar of policehas won a good name with his officers in this way, and for one guiltyman he has seized a dozen innocent people. Who cares about Mangs andDhers?--they are always villains and robbers.
Confessions of a Thug Page 42
