CHAPTER XLII.
"That is a Bhula Admee (a respectable man)," said I to the Potail, ashe walked to our camp; "he suits my purpose exactly."
"He has been on the look-out for some of you," said he, "for a longtime. We have never spoken openly on the subject, but he has hinted asmuch many times. And I suspect he chose this post, if he had any choicein the matter, because he was likely to meet Thugs here. If you pay himwell, he will help you materially."
"Do you think I have given enough?" said I.
"Quite," he replied: "I don't think he expected you would agree to somuch."
"It is certainly a large sum," said I; "but it is the first, and themoney is well spent."
"But you have forgotten me, Meer Sahib: am I not to partake of yourbounty?"
"Of course, Potailjee. What I brought was only a trifle--I have morefor you in the camp; you shall have your share."
"How much, Meer Sahib? I want money; my rents are in arrears, and I amin distress."
"Thirty rupees," said I.
"Make it fifty, I beseech you. You know not in what a strait I am;I cannot borrow the money, and you have been sent by Alla for mydeliverance. You will lend me the money if you will not give it me? andyou will have good bunij in this business."
"Well," said I, "you shall have it, but on one condition. We may notbe on the road when some people whom we are looking out for pass thisplace: they are Dacoos; they have some Tattoos with them, and greatwealth. If they pass either way, you must send men after us with aletter."
"I will send my own sons, well mounted," replied he; "they will easilyfind you out, and you may depend on me. Where will these fellows comefrom?"
"They have gone to Hyderabad now," said I, "and will return by Nagpoor.If we meet them, all very well; but they may escape us."
"They shall not, by Alla!" said the Potail. "I will watch for themmyself, and if you get them I shall hope for a handsome present."
"I will not forget you. But here we are at the camp: take care no onesees the money as you carry it away."
"Trust an old hand for that," said he, with a knowing wink. "I must goafter I have got it to the Moonshee, who has sent for me about fodderfor his horses. I should like to see him, too--to see a man whosebreath is in his nostrils. And he has a wife too."
"Yes," said I, "there is no getting her out of the way, so she mustdie, which is a pity. He has a child also, about, four years old, whichI want myself: he is a pretty boy, and I have no son to bless me; hewill never know the difference between me and his father after a fewdays."
I paid the money, and dismissed him. Ganesha came to me. "I havebeen looking at the ground," said he, "and there is a hole nearthe Moonshee's tent, which has been dug for some purpose or other,apparently the commencement of a well; it will save us the trouble ofdigging; the earth, too, lies close to it, and will only have to befilled in."
"Have the Lughaees seen it?" said I.
"Yes," he replied; "I took Bhowanee with me; he says it is the verything."
"Now, Ganesha," said I, "how shall we manage?"
"Oh, do you take the tent-work, and leave the rest to me; I will settleall outside. You have a smooth tongue, and the Moonshee is alone; Iwill be close at hand in case of anything going wrong; but I do notapprehend anything."
"Nor I either. None of the Saeeses or camel men must escape; there aremany of them."
"Sixteen in all; I have counted them: let me see--eight bearers, twocamel men,--one of them has a wife,--two Khidmutgars, one femaleservant, and four Saeeses; how many is that?"----"Eighteen," said I.
"Ah, well, it does not matter; towards evening I will surround thewhole; most of them will be listening to the songs, and the rest wemust overpower in the best way we can. The night will be dark too,which is in our favour."
I then told him of the horsemen in the village, and what I had done.He knew Hittah Singh, the Duffadar, and told me that in his excursionsinto the district of Arrah, in Bengal, he had met with him; and that onone occasion, when he had been arrested for murder, this Hittah Singhhad got him off, by swearing to the collector that he knew him, and bybeing security for him to a large amount. "He is a good fellow for aBhojpooree," said Ganesha, "but requires to be well paid, and you havegiven him enough to keep him quiet."
The evening came. My father and I went to the Moonshee's, but after theevening prayer time; he had his son on his knee, and a noble littlefellow he was. How I shall love that boy! said I, inwardly, as I lookedon his fair and beautiful features and expressive eyes. He came tome readily, and I fondled him, and displayed to his admiring eyes mybeautiful sword and dagger. Azima too will love him, thought I, and hewill supply the place of our daughter when she is married and gone fromus.
"You have no children?" said the Moonshee; "or perhaps I ought not toask, you may have lost them; your brow darkens at the question."
"One," replied I, "a daughter. A son, the counterpart of the SahibZada, it pleased Allah to take from me, when he was about his age."
"It is indeed his will," said the Moonshee; "there is no strivingagainst fate. This boy is my only offspring; for many years I had beenmarried, and my case was somewhat like that of the Sultan in the 'Storyof the Parrot;' grey hairs were coming, and I despaired; but at lastAlla was gracious, and you see the boy."
"May God grant he live a hundred years, and be prosperous," said I, "Ihave no hope myself."
We conversed together for some time, and on a message being given fromwithout, I said, "You have been so pleased with the singing of some ofmy men, Moonshee Sahib, that they have arranged a little masque, afterthe manner of the Byroopeas, which they are anxious to perform beforeyou. It will be absurd enough, I dare say, yet it will serve to passthe evening, and your son too may be amused."
"By all means," said he; "anything in the jungle is acceptable; butfor your company, Meer Sahib, we should have had a dull march. I willprepare those within, so pray call in the performers."
The men came, six stout fellows dressed fantastically, two of them aswomen, with sitars and drums in their hands; they personated a body ofGoosaeens, and danced and sang in a ridiculous manner. Where they hadlearned their parts, I know not, but the whole was well done, and theMoonshee's little son laughed immoderately. As we had expected, thewhole of the Moonshee's people gathered round the tent, which was openon one side to admit of their seeing the Tumasha; and I observed withsecret exultation that every man had two or three Thugs close to him,and one in particular behind each of them. All was ready, as I thought,and I was about to give the signal, when one of the Thugs called to methat I was wanted without. What it could be I knew not, but, excusingmyself for a moment, I went out.
"What shall we do?" said Ganesha to me, in a voice full of alarm andapprehension; "Meer Sahib, the Feringhees are upon us!"
"The Feringhees!"----"Yes," he replied; "and what can we do? this goodbunij will escape us. Of course the Moonshee will join them, and we maythen as well think of strangling the king of Delhi, as of getting him."
"But how," said I, "how are the Feringhees upon us? Have you seen them?"
"No," said Ganesha, "but I have seen their people. A long string ofcamels have just arrived, with I know not how many red-coated sepoys toguard them--my curse be on them all!"
"And where are they?"
"Why, they are gone into the village. They wanted this ground, but Itold them I would not give it up; that the Moonshee was a gentleman ofrank, and could not be disturbed, and that there was better ground onthe other side of the village."
"Then never fear," said I; "the work must be done immediately. I willgo in and give the jhirnee; and if any of those prying rascals theLascars come about us, you know what to do. But I fear not; the Potailwill help us, and Hittah Singh too, and there need be no great noise.My father will have to personate the Moonshee for a while if necessary;but that does not matter."
"Good," said Ganesha; "but be quick, Meer Sahib, I shall be in atorment of apprehension until the whole are fairly under the
ground."
I left him, and, carelessly playing with my roomal, again entered thetent. "What is it?" asked the Moonshee.
"Oh, nothing," I replied; "only some Sahib-logues' tents which havearrived. Their servants wanted this ground to encamp on, but, seeing ushere, the Lascars have taken them to the other side of the village. Thetroops will be here early to-morrow."
"That will suit me exactly," said he; "I will stay with them, and bidyou gentlemen farewell; but that is no reason why we should be the lessmerry. I warrant these good fellows have another song or two in store.Have you?" he asked of them.
"A hundred," replied one of them; "but perhaps the next will be rathera noisy one."
"Never mind," said he, "play on; you shall have as good a reward as Ican afford to bestow."
I waited till the noise was at its height to give the jhirnee, yet Ihad not the opportunity I wished for. The Moonshee sat with his back tothe kanat, and to get behind him was impossible: one of the Thugs sawmy embarrassment, and relieved it by begging him to rise and advance afew paces.
"What are they going to do?" asked he.
"I know not," I replied, "but you had as well comply."
He arose, and I slipped behind him. "Now!" I shouted; "bring the pan!"and my hand was on the Moonshee's neck. One wild shriek he gave, andfell. His wife had been looking on through a hole in the kanat; she hadseen the work, and rushed out into the midst of us, with her boy in herarms. I shall never forget her--never: I shall never forget her wildlook and her screams. I tore the boy from her arms, and left her in themidst of the Thugs; I ran out into the air, and the first person I metwas Ganesha, his face flushed with triumph, which I saw by the glare ofthe torches from the tent.
"All is done!" cried he; "they have all fallen. Two I killed myself.Where are the Lughaees? we must be quick."
He ran on; and I stood in the open space before the tent. Parties ofThugs passed rapidly to and fro, bearing the bodies of the dead, whichwere one by one thrown into the hole. But the singing and music went onas merrily as ever, and looking into the tent I saw my father sittingin the place which had been occupied by the ill-fated Moonshee.
My little charge was crying terribly, imploring me, in tones and wordsthat would have moved any one's heart but mine, to take him to hismother. I soothed him as well as I could, and was going to my tent; butcuriosity impelled me to return and see the hole in which the businessof interment was going on. I went to the edge; Ganesha was standing byit encouraging the Lughaees; he saw the boy in my arms.
"What folly is this, Meer Sahib?" said he; "you are not going to sparethat boy, when we are even now in such danger!--it will be madness.Give him to me; I will silence the crying wretch, and send him with hisparents."
"Never!" cried I; "the boy is mine; you may have all the spoil, butgive him up to death I will not. Have I not lost a son, and is it notlawful to adopt a child of this age?"
"Madness! madness!" cried Ganesha, "the boy must die. Are you a fool,Meer Sahib, to risk such a chance?"
"He will never find out the difference between us and his parents,"said I; "and I will not be interfered with."
"Fool!" said Ganesha, setting his teeth, "I spared a child once, andwill never spare another; I have sworn it on the pickaxe."
"I care not for a thousand oaths," I cried; "the boy is mine, and youhad better not oppose me if you wish to avoid a quarrel;" and I wasgoing away.
He caught me by the arm. "Let me go," I exclaimed, and I felt for mydagger, "or by Alla! I will strike this steel into you."
"Boy," cried he, "you are mad; I fear you not; talk of daggers toothers than Ganesha; he has seen too much of you to fear you. Give methe child, I say, his very cries will alarm the sepoys."
I felt for my dagger or sword, but I had left them in the tent; I triedif pity could move him. "Have you no compassion?" I said more gently:"Ganesha, have you no pity for a child? Can you bear to kill him?"
I was off my guard, and he saw his opportunity. Quicker than thought hehad rudely snatched the child from my arms, and as he hurled him intothe pit, he cried scornfully, "Pity! no, I know it not. Now go and cry,Meer Sahib, for the loss of your plaything."
I started forward, and leaned over the edge of the hole, which wasbeing rapidly filled; the poor boy lay senseless and dead at thebottom--one shriek alone had escaped him as he was dashed withpassionate force into it. I gazed for an instant to satisfy myself thathe was dead, and some of the earth which was being thrown in hid himalmost instantly from my view.
I turned to Ganesha in savage anger. "Dog!" cried I, "and son of a dog!you shall answer for this. Had I my sword now with me, I would cut youin two pieces."
"An idle threat, and one befitting what I have heard of you," said he."Go, Meer Sahib, you are a boy and a fool: I do not fear you."
Stony-hearted villain, he had destroyed my son. Situated as I was Icould then do nothing, but I was determined to have my revenge: and Itook it too. I mentioned what had occurred to my father and to three ofmy intimate associates; they were determined to stick by me whenever Ichose to attack Ganesha, and would fain have done so the next day; butthis did not suit me, though his words rankled in my heart, and thedeed he had done made me hate him more than ever. I deferred my revengeto the last moment, but I took it, as you shall hear.
We stayed on the ground that night; the palankeen had been broken inpieces and thrown into the hole, but my father personated the Moonsheethe next morning as we rode through the camp of the Feringhees, whichhad been pitched so near us, that indeed I have often wondered theyheard not the cries of the party as we despatched them. But we hadtaken good precautions. The noise of the drums, and the confusionoccasioned by letting loose two of the Moonshee's horses, which werehere and there pursued by a number of Thugs, shouting and screamingafter them, had drowned the cries of our victims, and we had effectedthe whole without suspicion. Our good friends, the Potail and theDuffadar, had kept the sepoys in conversation, and they had not noticedthe noise, beyond hazarding a passing remark as to its cause.
Again, therefore, we were on the road. We had not got all the bootywe expected, it did not indeed amount to three thousand rupees, andwe earnestly looked out for the Dacoos, who were we hoped to be ournext bunij. We went on to Nagpoor, and sold the Moonshee's camels andhorses. Here the gang divided; one part under a Jemadar named EmomBuksh, took our old road towards Oomraotee, and through the valley ofBerar to Khandesh and Boorhanpoor; the rest of us returned by the roadwe had come, after staying four days in the city of Nagpoor. On oursecond or third march homewards we overtook the Dacoos. They had beenseen by our spies the moment we entered the village we had encamped at;and as much caution was requisite in managing them, my father at onceproposed to be alone the Sotha, or inveigler.
"I shall feign to be a Hindoo," said he; "these rascals will suspectme if I go by my own name, and indeed they would know me. I will bea Rajpoot Jemadar, come from Hyderabad, and you shall see I have notforgotten my old trade."
Accordingly he painted his forehead and breast after the fashion ofthe Hindoos, covered his eyes with wood ashes, put on a waistcloth anddress he borrowed from one of the men, and attended by another, wentinto the village.
How anxiously I expected his return! I feared he would fail in hismission, but Ganesha was confident. "He never fails," said he to me;"he is one of Bhowanee's own favourites; nothing he ever did failed.Would that I had his luck."
But he was absent so long that I became apprehensive for his safety,and was on the point of setting out to gain tidings of him, when to mygreat joy I saw him approaching. I ran to meet him. "What news?" criedI; "oh, my father, my liver has been burnt during your absence. Why didyou stay so long?"
"Never mind, my son," said he, when he had dismounted, "you wouldhave been wrong to come after me. But ah, the owls! I have entrappedthem--they are ours."
"Ul-humd-ul-illa!" cried I, "this is rare news; but how did you manageit?"
"Why," replied he, "it was done easily enough, though I feared
for mysuccess when I saw that one of the Dacoos was a fellow I had known along time ago; however, he did not recognize me, thanks to my whitebeard and these marks of the infidels; he never thought I was IsmailThug. I sat and conversed with their leader, who told me very gravelyhe was a servant of the English, going to Hindostan on leave ofabsence. I said I was one also, and had come from Jalna, where I was acollector of duties on spirits. We then became intimate, and the upshotof the whole was, that we agreed to travel together; and, by Alla! ifthe omens are good, they shall die to-morrow. Delay is useless withthese fellows, for they evidently think (from the signs I saw themmaking among themselves, which are known to me), that we are certainbunij to them, and if we do not attack them, they will fall upon us."
"We shall need good hands," said I; "and I will take the leader."
"I will be a Bhuttote also," said Ganesha; "I never killed a Dacoo. Arethey stout fellows?"
"Very," answered my father; "but, like all their tribe, they areheavily armed, and can do but little against us, if we manage properly."
"We had better fall on them with our swords," I observed.
"Not so, my son; but we will surround them, and if there is not a goodopportunity, the men can use their weapons."
We were soon agreed on this point; and in the morning the Dacoosjoined us as we moved round the village into the main road. They weretwenty-five in number, stout, but heavy-looking men, armed to theteeth, with their heads enveloped in folds of cloth. They had with themthirteen tattoos, heavily laden; and it was well that they had thisencumbrance, as it served to separate them, as each tattoo required aman to drive it. Had they kept in a body, we could have made but littleimpression on them, and dared hardly to have attacked them.
"Now, look out!" said my father to the men; "if you see them leavingtheir beasts, and collecting in two and threes, fall on them at once,or they will attack us: they know well enough who we are, though theypretend they do not."
We journeyed on in company; after I had ridden for some distance Idismounted, and walking beside the leader, I entered into conversationwith him. He did not recognize me in the least, and very gravely begantelling me how he had met with Thugs on his way down; how he had foughtwith and overpowered a large band, and carried off their plunder,amounting to some thousand rupees.
I could have struck him on the mouth with my shoe, but I refrained; yetit was enough to have provoked me, being so barefaced a lie. Still Iapplauded his bravery, and he continued: "Yes, Meer Sahib, these Thugsare the greatest villains unhung; and I praise the Prophet that I havegained some information about them, which I will give to my mastersthe Europeans. The fool of a Thug, or rather one of his people, toldme they belonged to Jhalone; I am going that way, and if I do not tellthe Rajah of their being in his city, call me an owl, and a father ofjackasses. I expect, too, he will reward me handsomely."
Ay, you will tell him, thought I; but you must get there first, myfriend. Mashalla! words are one thing, but deeds are another.
"And were they such fools?" I asked; "all the world say that Thugs arenever to be taken in."
The fellow laughed scornfully. "Never taken in!" said he; "did notI deceive them? They are swine, they are asses; they murder poortravellers, but they have no wit, not so much as children. Their foolof a Jemadar tried to deceive me by wrapping his face in a cloth; but Isaw him, dark as it was, and could swear to him among a thousand."
"What was he like?" inquired I; "I am curious to know, if it were onlyto avoid him in future, especially as I am a constant traveller on thisroad: but you said you attacked them?"
"Yes," said he; "I am an old traveller too, and as we were a largebody, and the Thugs not more than treble our number, I said to mycompanions, that though I knew we were with Thugs, they ought not tofear, and if they would only watch me, we might attack and dispersethem, and get their plunder: and by Alla! we did Sahib. Late at nightwe rose on them, killed some, and the rest ran away, among themthe cowardly Jemadar. We got enough, too, to take us to Hyderabadcomfortably."
So we had a narrow escape, thought I; these fellows would have attackedus, I doubt not, had we not gone on that night. But the lie, Sahib,was it not an impudent one? Yet I could not help laughing heartily athis relation, which he swore was true, by Alla and the Prophet, by mybeard, and by every saint in his calendar.
We trudged on till we came in sight of two trees on the road, on whichtravellers hung bits of rag as offerings to the guardian saint of theplace. I saw very plainly that this was their bhil; one by one theybegan to forsake their tattoos and collect. More delay on our partwould have been fatal, and my father saw this. He was as prompt as Icould have desired: he had seen their movements, and just as I haddisengaged my roomal from my waist, he gave the jhirnee. Eleven ofthe Dacoos fell at the same moment; the leader by my hand. I had myroomal round his throat, and before I gave the fatal wrench, I shoutedin his ear that I was Ameer Ali, the leader of the Thugs he had met,and that _then_ I had sworn to kill him, and had done it. The restwere cut down with swords: my men were prepared, they were not, andwere heavily encumbered. Yet had we delayed for another three or fourhundred paces, they would have fallen upon us; and I think, Sahib, theThugs would have run away. As it was, however, we were victorious; wethrew the bodies as they were into the jungle, and pushed on, laughingheartily, and in the highest spirits at the issue of our adventure. Thebooty, too, was good--thirteen thousand rupees worth of gold, silver,and ready money met our admiring eyes, when the packages of the loadedtattoos were opened for our inspection.
Well, Sahib, we had proceeded as far as Sehora on our return, when wefell in with a great European, who was also travelling. We did notfear him, but on the contrary determined to keep with him, becausewe well knew that he had many travellers in his train who profitedby the protection of his troops; so we divided into two parties, oneunder myself and my father, the other under Ganesha. Our object was toseparate the travellers from him, and we hoped, by representing theinconvenience they were put to by delay on account of his slow marches,and the scarcity of provisions they would experience on the road, toinduce them to accompany us. I need not follow the adventure further,for it differed not from the rest; suffice it to say, that after a fewmarches a large party of travellers had joined with us. We left thehigh-road to proceed by footpaths through the jungles, and near thevillage of Shirkarpoor we selected the bhil. The place was a favouriteone, and well known to our party. The travellers fell, twenty-ninemen, some women and children; all were buried in one grave, for thespot where they were killed was a desolate one. The deed was done inthe night, but by the light of as fair a moon as ever shone on us.One child I saved from the general slaughter; Ganesha was not presentto oppose me; and though the boy was a Hindoo, yet I determined toadopt him as my own, and to bring him up in the holy faith I professedmyself, and this would enhance the merit of having spared him. But whenhis mother died, I could not force him away from the body; he clungto it, young as he was, with frantic force--he screamed and kickedwhenever I attempted to lay hold of him, and bit me in the arms and thehands. I thought if the body was removed from his sight he would bequiet and submit to his fate; but no--when it was gone, he grew worseand worse; nothing would pacify or tranquillize him, and I fairly grewimpatient and angry. I drew my sword, and threatened him but he wasinsensible to his danger; he reviled me, he spat at me with a child'svirulence. I once more raised him up in my arms, but it was of no use;he seized my ear in his teeth and bit it till the blood came. In theagony of the pain and in my rage I knew not what I did. Sahib, howshall I tell you what followed! it was the worst act of my life butone, which I have yet to tell you of.
You killed him, I suppose, Ameer Ali, said I.
Yes, Sahib, I killed him; but oh, how did I do it! it was the devil'swork, not mine. I never was cruel, but now the Shitan possessed me.
Here Ameer Ali put his hands to his eyes, and finding my heart sicken,I begged him to refrain from reciting the dreadful particulars. After apause he continued.
> Wretch that I was, I did this. No one was near me but the Thug who heldmy horse, and even he was horror-struck, and uttered a loud scream ofterror. I silenced him, and leaving the mangled body, I mounted myhorse and galloped after my party.
Yes, Sahib, I deserved to be hanged for that deed, had I never doneanother; but I was spared for a different fate.
We were in full march on the third day after this happened, when we sawa body of horsemen coming after us. My mind misgave me when I observedthem, and I hastened to collect the straggling Thugs, and form theminto a close body, in case the horsemen should prove to be enemies, ormake any hostile demonstration. On they came, shouting and abusing usin every term of vile reproach their tongues could utter. There wereabout forty of them; and I verily believe that, had I not been at thehead of the band, they would have fled as one man: however, I cheeredthem up, and was determined to show a good front in my retreat. I knewthere was a village in our interest within a few coss, which possesseda worthy Potail like him I have told you of; and that if we could butreach it, we might man the walls and towers, and bid defiance to ourpursuers.
"Be not afraid," cried I to my men; "let the best of ye come behindwith me, and we will stop these marauding rascals. I know they arePindharees, and the veriest cowards in existence. Only be firm; you whohave matchlocks take good aim, and when they are near enough, every onemark his man, and see if as many saddles are not emptied."
On they came. Fortunately the road was narrow, and had thick thornybrushwood on each side of it, so that they could not pass us. They werewithin speaking distance, and I shouted, "Are ye friends or enemies?If the former, keep behind us; if enemies, begone, in the name of theProphet, my friends, or ye are likely to get a sharp reception."
"Stop!" shouted the leader of the party; "who among you is leader? Iwould speak to him."
"I am leader," said I. "Come out alone, and I will meet you; but ifany of ye stir, by Alla we will fire on you." The fellow advanced, andseeing that none followed him, I rode out in front of my men. "Ifthere is treachery," said I to them, "fire,--never mind me."
"Jemadar," said the man, "our Thakoor has sent for you, you maypossibly have guessed why. You had better come; you will only have topay a fine, and will be released; I swear this to you on the faith of aRajpoot."
"I will neither trust you nor your master," said I; "you are a parcelof vagabond Pindharees. I laugh at you, and spit on your beards. If youwant us, come and take us; but of our own accord we come not. Are wefools? are we asses? Oh, man! art _thou_ one to talk thus? Go back tohim that sent thee, and say the man is yet unborn who will take AmeerAli Thug, so long as he has a weapon in his hand, or a few gallantfellows by his side. Have you no shame to deliver such a message!"
He made no answer, but urged his horse and cut at me with his sword.Fool! he did not think that a Thug could fight, and still less that hehad engaged one whom no one had ever yet defeated. I caught the blow onmy shield, and returned it on his head as he passed me; the fellow fellfront his horse a dead man.
My own men set up a shout, and discharged their matchlocks--onehorseman and a horse fell wounded, and struggled in the dust. Had onlymy own good companions in the Pindharee affairs been with me, I wouldhave charged them, and put them to flight; but I could do nothingalone. We had checked them, however, and retired slowly, followed bythe troop, who kept out of shot, but evidently waiting for a piece oflevel and fair ground to charge us. In this way we retreated till thewelcome walls of the village, whither I had directed the main body,appeared to our view. We redoubled our efforts to gain the shelter theywould afford us, and the men were in some disorder as we passed over alevel plain in front of the village; they were even beginning to run,but I checked them. "For the love of Alla!" cried I, "for your ownsakes keep together, and have brave hearts; so long as we are firm theywill not dare to come near us; but if once we separate, we are lost.See, even now they are preparing to charge, as a hawk stoops on hisquarry."
And down they came, thundering along, brandishing their spears, andreviling us. Some of my men fled at their utmost speed to the gate, butmost of them stood. Again I dashed at one of our enemies, and woundedhim; but the odds were against us; one of my own men fell, piercedthrough the breast to the backbone by a spear; another was wounded;but they could not take further advantage of us. Those who had fled,joined by others of my men and some villagers, headed by my brave oldfather, issued from the gate, which the horsemen seeing, they drew off,and we got within the village in safety. They kept hovering about tillmid-day, but out of the reach of our shot; and soon after noon, theyall departed, and we saw no more of them. We had to pay for our shelterhandsomely, however, for the Potail shut the gates of his village, anddeclared we should not pass out without having paid him a thousandrupees. I was for attacking him, plundering his village, and burningit after the Pindharee fashion; and we could have done it easily. Butmy father would not hear of it. "The country would rise on us," hesaid; "and besides, it would ill requite the Potail's hospitality andprotection, even though we had to pay for it." So he paid the money;and, after a thousand protestations of mutual goodwill, we left thevillage in the evening, intending to push on as far as we could, to bebeyond the reach of pursuit.
Nor were we followed; though this exploit made a noise in the country,and was known far and wide, we were not molested. We heard afterwardsthat the Thakoor flew into a furious passion when he heard of his men'sdefeat, and dismissed them from his service as a parcel of cowards, asindeed they were. Moreover, he swore he would be revenged upon everyThug he might ever catch afterwards; and I believe he kept his word,and put some to death. But we laughed at his beard; and many a merryjest had we over the adventure afterwards.
It seems, the day after, some herdsmen were passing the spot where thetravellers had been killed and they saw the body of the lad lying inthe road: all the remains were discovered, and information was given tothe ruler of the village and tract of country in which the deed hadbeen done. We pursued our route. Ganesha, too, had been fortunate; hehad decoyed a large body of travellers, consisting of a Jemadar who hadlost an arm, and his family, with some others, along the by-paths inanother direction, and he had killed them all.
You know, Sahib, that it is forbidden to us to kill persons who may inany way be deformed. I was amused afterwards to hear the accounts whichwere given of the deliberations made upon the Jemadar's fate by Ganeshaand his gang: he told them to me himself when we met.
"Some, indeed most of the men," said he, "hesitated as to whetherhe should be strangled or not. There was no means of separating himfrom the party, and they said the whole ought to be abandoned on hisaccount, as he had lost an arm, and therefore was not a fit sacrificeto Bhowanee. I replied that he was not deformed, that if he had lostan arm, he had had one once, and the losing of it was not the work ofAlla but of man, and that when he died he would appear in the form inwhich he had been created; therefore he was not forbidden, but wastrue bunij; and I asked them how they would show their faces to youand to their brethren at the rendezvous with no deed to boast of, and,more than all, no plunder. I prevailed; the whole were strangled; theJemadar by my own hand, for no one else would touch him, despite ofall I said to convince them there was no harm in it. The worst of allwas, however, that there were two young girls of a marriageable age,the daughters of the Jemadar. Two of my men took a fancy to them, andwould fain have carried them off to be their wives, but they would notconsent, and they were strangled with the rest."
We were now somewhat at a loss for a route, or whither to go. Theomens were consulted at Saugor, which was our place of rendezvous;and as they pointed to the northward, we struck off the high-road tothe north at Saugor, and took that to Seronje. But my father returnedto Jhalone. We divided into two bodies, each a day's march from theother, for we were fearful of being suspected if we travelled in largenumbers; and since the Europeans had got a footing in the country, wefound that we were asked more questions at the different posts andguards than we had used to be. B
esides, large bodies of travellershad disappeared in various directions by the hands of other bands ofThugs, and the authorities were suspicious and inquisitive to a degree.However, now with bullying, now with bribes, we contrived to pass on,leaving our fruit as we went in many a sly place, which the Choukedarsnever suspected; and although we got no large booty, yet scarcely a daypassed but one, two, or more travellers met their death at our hands.It was at the village of Eklera, in Holkar's dominions (alas! I shallnever forget it), that our Sothas brought us word they had secured asmall party of travellers, who they had heard were about to proceed toa village a few coss distant.
Of course our men told them of the danger of travelling alone, of thealarms there were of Thugs, and begged of them to accompany our largeparty for safety, which had collected for the same purpose, and theyconsented. The Sothas offered to introduce them to me as the leader ofthe Kafila; and accordingly, at sunset, one of them returned to thebazar, and brought two of the men to me. I received them cordially,repeated the same stories as my men had done, and frightened them quitesufficiently for my purpose.
"Listen," said one; "though I have never seen a Thug, nor know of anyexisting in this part, yet that they have been here there is no doubt.My wife's father was killed by them."
"How!" said I; "it is horrible to think on; how did this happen? knowyou aught of the particulars?"
"No," replied he, "none but what I have heard from others. I wasa boy at the time, but the old men of the village know them well,and often speak of them even to this day. I will introduce you tomy father-in-law, as I justly call him, and he shall tell you thetale himself. Mashalla! he tells it with much spirit, and 'tis worthhearing."
I confess I was interested; why I should have been so at a common taleof Thuggee was more than I can imagine. I rose and followed the man tohis house, determined to hear the whole story from his father-in-law'smouth.
I have said it was yet day; the sun was setting and the village wasa scene of bustle and noise, as is always the case in an evening;the herds which had been out to graze were pouring in at the gates,raising clouds of dust, through which the walls were but dimly seen.Yet still as I advanced I fancied them familiar to me; I imagined Iknew the names of different places near them,--one in particular, theabode of a Fakeer, around which was a small garden. I almost startedwhen I approached it, for it seemed like the face of a familiar friendone meets after a long, long absence, when one hesitates to accosthim by name, though almost assured of his identity. But in spite ofmy desire to know the name of the garden I walked on, for it wouldnot have suited my purpose to have appeared to recognize any object,having represented myself to be an utter stranger. As we passedthrough the gate, objects more and more familiar to my eyes presentedthemselves,--the bazar, the little Mosque, the Kotwal's Chowree,the temple of Mahadeo. I could have named them all, and one housein particular,--my heart leaped within me as I passed it. There wasnothing remarkable in it: but it seemed unaccountably fresh to me,--asthough I had but left it yesterday.
Still I walked on silently, and my companion did not notice theagitation and surprise which must have been depicted on my features. Wereached the house, a respectable one in appearance; and desiring me tobe seated, he left me to bring the old man of whom we had spoken. Whenwe entered, Alla! Alla! I could have called him too by name, though hisfeatures were shrunken and withered. I was almost about to exclaim,Rheim Khan! but I checked myself; and, as he was presented to me underanother name, Futih Mahomed Khan, I was silent.
The whole, after this, thought I, must be a wild dream, or I may havevisited the place in my wanderings, perhaps stayed a few days at it,and it is thus familiar to me. After some desultory conversation, mynew friend stated what he had told me, and requested his father-in-lawto relate the story of Peer Khan with all its particulars.
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