Chapter 11: In which the Babu tells the story of King Vikramaditya; and thediscerning reader may find more than appears on the surface.
Day followed day in dreary sameness. Regularly every evening Desmond waslocked with his eight fellow prisoners in the shed, there to spend hoursof weariness and discomfort until morning brought release and the commontask. He had the same rations of rice and ragi {a cereal}, withoccasional doles of more substantial fare. He was carefully kept from allcommunication with the other European prisoners, and as the Bengali wasthe only man of his set who knew English, his only opportunities of usinghis native tongue occurred in the evening before he slept.
His fellow prisoners spoke Urdu among themselves, and Desmond found somealleviation of the monotony of his life in learning the lingua franca ofIndia under the Babu's tuition. He was encouraged to persevere in thestudy by the fact that the Babu proved to be an excellent storyteller,often beguiling the tedium of wakeful hours in the shed by relatinginterminable narratives from the Hindu mythology, and in particular theexploits of the legendary hero Vikramaditya. So accomplished was he inthis very oriental art that it was not uncommon for one or other of thesentries to listen to him through the opening in the shed wall, and thehead warder who locked the prisoners' fetters would himself sometimessquat down at the door before leaving them at night, and remain aninterested auditor until the blast of a horn warned all in the fort andtown that the hour of sleep had come. It was some time before Desmond wassufficiently familiar with the language to pick up more than a few wordsof the stories here and there, but in three months he found himself ableto follow the narrative with ease.
Meanwhile he was growing apace. The constant work in the open air, clad,save during the rains, in nothing but a thin dhoti {a cloth worn roundthe waist, passed between the legs and tucked in behind the back},developed his physique and, even in that hot climate, hardened hismuscles. The Babu one day remarked with envy that he would soon be deemedworthy of promotion to Angria's own gallivat, whose crew consisted ofpicked men of all nationalities.
This was an honor Desmond by no means coveted. As a dockyard workman,earning his food by the sweat of his brow, he did not come in contactwith Angria, and was indeed less hardly used than he had been on boardthe Good Intent. But to become a galley slave seemed to him a differentthing, and the prospect of pulling an oar in the Pirate's gallivat servedto intensify his longing to escape.
For, though he proved so willing and docile in the dockyard, not a daypassed but he pondered the idea of escape. He seized every opportunity oflearning the topography of the fort and town, being aided in thisunwittingly by Govinda, who employed him more and more often, as hebecame familiar with the language, in conveying messages from one part ofthe settlement to another. But he was forced to confess to himself thatthe chances of escape were very slight. Gheria was many miles from thenearest European settlement where he might find refuge. To escape by seaseemed impossible; if he fled through the town and got clear of Angria'sterritory he would almost certainly fall into the hands of the Peshwa's{the prime minister and real ruler of the Maratha kingdom} people, andalthough the Peshwa was nominally an ally of the Company, his subjects--alawless, turbulent, predatory race--were not likely to be speciallyfriendly to a solitary English lad. A half-felt hope that he might beable to reach Suwarndrug, lately captured by Commodore James, was dashedby the news that that fort had been handed over by him to the Marathas.Moreover, such was the rivalry among the various European nationscompeting for trade in India that he was by no means sure of a friendlyreception if he should succeed in gaining a Portuguese or Dutchsettlement. Dark stories were told of Portuguese dealings withEnglishmen, and the Dutch bore no good repute for their treatment ofprisoners.
It was a matter of wonder to Desmond that none of his companions everhinted at escape. He could not imagine that any man could be a slavewithout feeling a yearning for liberty; yet these men lived through theunvarying round; eating, toiling, sleeping, without any apparent mentalrevolt. He could only surmise that all manliness and spirit had beencrushed out of them, and from motives of prudence he forbore to speak offreedom.
But one evening, a sultry August evening when the shed was like an oven,and, bathed in sweat, he felt utterly limp and depressed, he asked theBabu in English whether anyone had ever escaped out of Angria's clutches.Surendra Nath Chuckerbutti glanced anxiously around, as if fearful thatthe others might understand. But they lay listless on their charpoys;they knew no English, and there was nothing in Desmond's tone to quickentheir hopelessness.
"No, sahib," said the Bengali; "such escapade, if successful, is beyondmy ken. There have been attempts; cui bono? Nobody is an anna the better.Nay, the last state of such misguided men is even worse; they diesuffering very ingenious torture."
Desmond had been amazed at the Babu's command of English until he learnedthat the man was an omnivorous reader, and in his leisure at Calcutta hadspent many an hour in poring over such literature as his master's scantylibrary afforded, the works of Mr. Samuel Johnson and Mr. Henry Fieldingin particular.
At this moment Desmond said no more, but in the dead of night, when allwere asleep, he leaned over to the Babu's charpoy and gently nudged him.
"Surendra Nath!" he whispered.
"Who calls?" returned the Babu.
"Listen. Have you yourself ever thought of escaping?"
"Peace and quietness, sir. He will hear."
"Who?"
"The Gujarati, sir--Fuzl Khan."
"But he doesn't understand. And if he did, what then?"
"He was the single man, positively unique, who was spared among sixattempting escape last rains."
"They did make an attempt, then. Why was he spared?"
"That, sir, deponent knoweth not. The plot was carried to Angria."
"How?"
"That also is dark as pitch. But Fuzl Khan was spared, that we know. Noman can trust his vis-a-vis. No man is now so bold to discuss suchmatters."
"Is that why we are all chained up at night?"
"That, sir, is the case. It is since then our limbs are shackled."
Desmond thought over this piece of information. He had noticed that theGujarati was left much alone by the others. They were outwardly civilenough, but they rarely spoke to him of their own accord, and sometimesthey would break off in a conversation if he appeared interested. Desmondhad put this down to the man's temper; he was a sullen fellow, with aperpetually hangdog look, occasionally breaking out in paroxysms ofviolence which cost him many a scourging from the overseer's mercilessrattan. But the attitude of his fellow prisoner was more easily explainedif the Babu's hint was well founded. They feared him.
Yet, if he had indeed betrayed his comrades, he had gained little by histreachery. He was no favorite with the officers of the yard. They kepthim hard at work, and seemed to take a delight in harrying him. More thanonce, unjustly, as it appeared to Desmond, he had made acquaintance withthe punishment tank. In his dealings with his fellows he was morose andoffensive. A man of great physical strength, he was a match for any twoof his shed companions save the Biluchis, who, though individuallyweaker, retained something of the spirit of their race and made commoncause against him. The rest he bullied, and none more than the Bengali,whose weaklier constitution spared him the hard manual work of the yard,but whose timidity invited aggression.
Now that the subject which constantly occupied his thoughts had beenmooted, Desmond found himself more eagerly striving to find a solution ofthe problem presented by the idea of escape. At all hours of the day, andoften when he lay in sleepless discomfort at night, his active mindrecurred to the one absorbing matter: how to regain his freedom. He hadalready canvassed the possibilities of escape by land, only to dismissthe idea as utterly impracticable; for even could he elude the vigilanceof the sentries he could not pass as a native, and the perils besettingan Englishman were not confined to Angria's territory.
But how stood the chances of escape by sea? Could
he stow himself onboard a grab or gallivat, and try to swim ashore when near some friendlyport? He put the suggestion from him as absurd. Supposing he succeeded instowing himself on an outgoing vessel, how could he know when he was neara friendly port without risking almost certain discovery? Besides, exceptin such rare cases as the visit of an interloper like the Good Intent,the Pirate did little trade. His vessels were employed mainly in dashingout on insufficiently-convoyed merchantmen.
But the train of thought once started could not but be followed out. Whatif he could seize a grab or gallivat in the harbor? To navigate such avessel required a party, men having some knowledge of the sea. How stoodhis fellow prisoners in that respect? The Biluchis, tall wiry men, weretraders, and had several times, he knew, made the voyage from the PersianGulf to Surat. It was on one of these journeys that they had fallen intoAngria's hands. They might have picked up something of the simplerdetails of navigation. The Mysoreans, being up-country men andagriculturists, were not likely even to have seen the sea until theybecame slaves of Angria. The Marathas would be loath to embark; theybelonged to a warrior race which had for centuries lived by raiding itsneighbors; but being forbidden by their religion to eat or drink at seathey would never make good seamen. The Babu was a native of Bengal, andthe Bengalis were physically the weakest of the Indian peoples,constitutionally timid, and unenterprising in matters demanding physicalcourage. Desmond smiled as he thought of how his friend Surendra Nathmight comport himself in a storm.
There remained the Gujarati, and of his nautical capacity Desmond knewnothing. But, mentioning the matter of seamanship casually to the Babuone day, he learned that Fuzl Khan was a khalasi {sailor} from Cutch. Hehad in him a strain of negro blood, derived probably from some Zanzibariancestor brought to Cutch as a slave. The men of the coast of Cutch werethe best sailors in India; and Fuzl Khan himself had spent a considerableportion of his life at sea.
Thus reflecting on the qualities of his fellow captives, Desmond hadruefully to acknowledge that they would make a poor crew to navigate agrab or gallivat. Yet he could find no other, for Angria's system ofmixing the nationalities was cunningly devised to prevent any concertedschemes. If the attempt was to be made at all, it must be made with themen whom he knew intimately and with whom he had opportunities ofdiscussing a plan.
But he was at once faced by the question of the Gujarati'strustworthiness. If there was any truth in Surendra Nath's suspicions, hewould be quite ready to betray his fellows; and if looks and manner wereany criterion, the suspicions were amply justified. True, the man hadgained nothing by his former treachery, but that might not prevent himfrom repeating it, in the hope that a second betrayal would compelreward.
While Desmond was still pondering and puzzling, it happened oneunfortunate day that Govinda the overseer was carried off within a fewhours by what the Babu called the cramp--a disease now known as cholera.His place was immediately filled. But his successor was a very differentman. He was not so capable as Govinda, and endeavored to make up for hisincapacity by greater brutality and violence. The work of the yard felloff; he tried to mend matters by harrying the men. The whip and rattanwere in constant use, but the result was less efficiency than ever, andhe sought for the cause everywhere but in himself. The lives of thecaptives, bad enough before, became a continual torment.
Desmond fared no better than the rest. He lost the trifling privileges hehad formerly enjoyed. The new overseer seemed to take a delight inbullying him. Many a night, when he returned to the shed, his back wasraw where the lash had cut a livid streak through his thin dhoti. Hiscompanions suffered in common with him, Fuzl Khan more than any. For daysat a time the man was incapacitated from work by the treatment meted outto him. Desmond felt that if the Gujarati had indeed purchased his lifeby betraying his comrades, he had made a dear bargain.
One night, when his eight companions were all asleep, and nothing couldbe heard but the regular calls of the sentries, the beating of tom tomsin the town, and the howls of jackals prowling in the outskirts, Desmondgently woke the Babu.
"My friend, listen," he whispered, "I have something to say to you."
Surendra Nath turned over in his charpoy.
"Speak soft, I pray," he said.
"My head is on fire," continued Desmond. "I cannot sleep. I have beenthinking. What is life worth to us? Can anything be worse than ourpresent lot? Do you ever think of escape?"
"What good, sir? I have said so before. We are fettered; what can we do?There is but one thing that all men in our plight desire; that is death."
"Nonsense! I do not desire death. This life is hateful, but while we livethere is something to hope for, and I for one am not content to endurelifelong misery. I mean to escape."
"It is easy to say, but the doing--that is impossible."
"How can we tell that unless we try? The men who tried to escape did notthink it impossible. They might have succeeded--who can say?--if FuzlKhan had not betrayed them."
"And he is still with us. He would betray us again."
"I am not sure of that. See what he has suffered! Today his whole bodymust have writhed with pain. But for the majum {a preparation of hemp} hehas smoked and the plentiful ghi {clarified butter} we rubbed him with,he would be moaning now. I think he will be with us if we can only findout a way. You have been here longer than I; can not you help me to forma plan?"
"No, sahib; my brain is like running water. Besides, I am afraid. If wecould get rid of our fetters and escape we might have to fight. I cannotfight; I am not a man of war; I am commercial."
"But you will help me if I can think of a plan?"
"I cannot persuade myself to promise, sahib. It is impossible. Death isthe only deliverer."
Desmond was impatient of the man's lack of spirit. But he suffered nosign of his feeling to escape him. He had grown to have a liking for theBabu.
"Well, I shall not give up the idea," he said. "Perhaps I shall speak ofit to you again."
Two nights later, in the dark and silent hours, Desmond reopened thematter. This time the conversation lasted much longer, and in the courseof it the Babu became so much interested and indeed excited that heforgot his usual caution, and spoke in a high-pitched tone that woke theBiluchi on the other side. The man hurled abuse at the disturber of hisrepose, and Surendra Nath regained his caution and relapsed into hisusual soft murmur. Desmond and he were still talking when the light ofdawn stole into the shed; but though neither had slept, they went abouttheir work during the day with unusual briskness and lightness of heart.
That evening, after the prisoners had eaten their supper in theirrespective eating rooms, they squatted against the outer wall of the shedfor a brief rest before being locked up for the night. The Babu hadpromised to tell a story. The approaches to the yard were all guarded bythe usual sentries, and in the distance could be heard the clanking ofthe warder's keys as he went from shed to shed performing his nightlyoffice.
"The story! the story!" said one of the Marathas impatiently. "Why dostthou tarry, Babu?"
"I have eaten, Gousla, and when the belly is full the brain is sluggish.But the balance is adjusting itself, and in a little I will begin."
Through the farther gate came the warder. Desmond and his companions werethe last with whom he had to deal. His keys jangling, he advanced slowlybetween two Marathas armed with matchlocks and two-edged swords.
The Babu had his back against the shed, the others were grouped abouthim, and at his left there was a vacant space. It was growing dusk.
"Hai, worthy jailer!" said Surendra Nath pleasantly, "I was about to tellthe marvelous story of King Bhoya's golden throne. But I will even nowcheck the stream at the source. Your time is precious. My comrades mustwait until we get inside."
"Not so, Babu," said the warder gruffly. "Tell thy tale. Barik Allah, younine are the last of my round. I will myself wait and hear, for thou hasta ready tongue, and the learning of a pundit {learned man, teacher},Babu, and thy stories, after the day
's work, are they not as honey pouredon rice?"
"You honor me beyond my deserts. If you will deign to be seated!"
The warder marched to the vacant spot at the Babu's side, and squatteddown, crossing his legs, his heavy bunch of keys lying on the skirt ofhis dhoti. The armed Marathas stood at a little distance, leaning ontheir matchlocks, within hearing of the Babu, and at spots where theycould see anyone approaching from either end of the yard. It would not dofor the warder to be found thus by the officer of the watch.
"It happened during the reign of the illustrious King Bhoya," began theBabu; then he caught his breath, looking strangely nervous.
"It is the heat, good jailer," he said hurriedly; "--of the illustriousKing Bhoya, I said, that a poor ryot {peasant} named Yajnadatta, diggingone day in his field, found there buried the divine throne of theincomparable King Vikramaditya. When his eyes were somewhat recoveredfrom the dazzling vision, and he could gaze unblinking at the wondrousthrone, he beheld that it was resplendent with thirty-two graven images,and adorned with a multitude of jewels: rubies and diamonds, pearls andjasper, crystal and coral and sapphires.
"Now the news of this wondrous discovery coming to the ears of KingBhoya, he incontinently caused the throne to be conveyed to his palace,and had it set in the midst of his hall of counsel that rose on columnsof gold and silver, of coral and crystal. Then the desire came upon himto sit on this throne, and calling his wise men, he bade them choose amoment of good augury, and gave order to his servitors to make all thingsready for his coronation. Whereupon his people brought curded milk,sandalwood, flowers, saffron, umbrellas, parasols, divers tails--tails ofoxen, tails of peacocks; arrows, weapons of war, mirrors and otherobjects proper to be held by wedded women--all things, indeed, meet for asolemn festival, with a well-striped tiger skin to represent the sevencontinents of the earth; nothing was wanting of all the mattersprescribed in the Shastras {holy books} for the solemn crowning of kings;and having thus fulfilled their duty, the servitors humbly acquainted hisMajesty therewith. Then when the Guru {religious teacher}, the Purohita{hereditary priest of the royal house}, the Brahmans, the wise men, thecouncilors, the officers, the soldiers, the chief captain, had entered,the august King Bhoya drew near the throne, to the end that he might beanointed.
"But lo! the first of the carven figures that surrounded the throne thusspake and said: 'Harken, O King. That prince who is endowed withsovereign qualities; who shines before all others in wealth, inliberality, in mercy; who excels in heroism and in goodness; who is drawnby his nature to deeds of piety; who is full of might and majesty; thatprince alone is worthy to sit upon this throne--no other, no meanersovereign, is worthy. Harken, O King, to the story of the throne.'"
"Go on, Babu," said the jailer, as the narrator paused; "what said thegraven image?"
"'There once lived,'" continued the Babu, "'in the city of Avanti, aking, Bartrihari by name. Having come to recognize the vanity of earthlythings, this king one day left his throne and went as a jogi {ascetic}afar into the desert. His kingdom, being then without a head--for he hadno sons, and his younger brother, the illustrious Vikramaditya, wastraveling in far lands--fell into sore disorder, so that thieves andevildoers increased from day to day.
"'The wise men in their trouble sought diligently for a child having thesigns of royalty, and in due time, having found one, Xatrya by name, theygave the kingdom into his charge. But in that land there dwelt a mightyjin {evil spirit}, Vetala Agni {spirit of fire}, who, when he heard ofwhat the wise men had done, came forth on the night of the same day theyoung king had been enthroned and slew him and departed. And it befellthat each time the councilors found a new king, lo, the Vetala Agni cameforth and slew him.
"'Now upon a certain day, when the wise men, in sore trouble of heart,were met in council, there appeared among them the illustriousVikramaditya, newly returned from long travel, who, when he had heardwhat was toward, said:
"'"O ye wise men and faithful, make me king without ado."
"'And the wise men, seeing that Vikramaditya was worthy of that dignitythus spake:
"'"From this day, O excellency, thou art king of the realm of Avanti."
"'Having in this fashion become king of Avanti, Vikramaditya busiedhimself all that day with the affairs of his kingdom, tasting the sweetsof power; and at the fall of night he prepared, against the visit of theVetala Agni, great store of heady liquors, all kinds of meat, fish,bread, confections, rice boiled with milk and honey, sauces, curded milk,butter refined, sandalwood, bouquets and garlands, divers sorts ofsweet-scented things; and all these he kept in his palace, and himselfremained therein, reclining in full wakefulness upon his fairest bed.
"'Then into this palace came the Vetala Agni, sword in hand, and wentabout to slay the august Vikramaditya. But the king said:
"'"Harken, O Vetala Agni; seeing that thy Excellency has come for tocause me to perish, it is not doubtful that thou wilt succeed in thypurpose; albeit, all these viands thou dost here behold have been broughttogether for thy behoof; eat, then, whatsoever thou dost find worthy;afterwards thou shalt work thy will."
"'And the Vetala Agni, having heard these words, filled himself with thisgreat store of food, and, marvelously content with the king, said untohim:
"'"Truly I am content, and well disposed towards thee, and I give theethe realm of Avanti; sit thou in the highest place and taste its joys;but take heed of one thing: every day shalt thou prepare for me a repastlike unto this."
"'With these words, the Vetala Agni departed from that spot and betookhim into his own place.
"'Then for a long space did Vikramaditya diligently fulfill that command;but by and by, growing aweary of feeding the Vetala Agni, he soughtcounsel of the jogi Trilokanatha, who had his dwelling on the mount ofKanahakrita. The jogi, perceiving the manifold merits of the incomparableVikramaditya, was moved with compassion towards him, and when he had longmeditated and recited sundry mantras {hymns and prayers}, he thus spakeand said:
"'"Harken, O King. From the sacred tank of Shakravatar spring alleys fourtimes seven, as it were branches from one trunk, to wit, seven to thenorth, seven to the east, seven to the west, and seven to the south. Ofthe seven alleys springing to the north do you choose the seventh, and inthe seventh alley the seventh tree from the sacred tank, and on theseventh branch of the seventh tree thou shalt find the nest of a bulbul.Within that nest thou shalt discover a golden key."'"
The Babu was now speaking very slowly, and an observer watching Desmondwould have perceived that his eyes were fixed with a strange look ofmingled eagerness and anxiety upon the storyteller. But no one observedthis; every man in the group was intent upon the story, hanging upon thelips of the eloquent Babu.
"'Having obtained the golden key,'" continued the narrator, "'thou shaltreturn forthwith to thy palace, and the same night, when the Vetala Angihas eaten and drunk his fill, thou shalt in his presence lay the key uponthe palm of thy left hand, thus--'" (here the Babu quietly took up a keyhanging from the bunch attached to the warder's girdle, and laid it uponhis left palm). "'Then shalt thou say to the Vetala:
"'"O illustrious Vetala, tell me, I pray thee, what doth this golden keyunlock?"
"'Then if the aspect of the Vetala be fierce, fear not, for he must needsreply: such is the virtue of the key; and by his words thou shalt directthy course. Verily it is for such a trial that the gods have endowed theewith wisdom beyond the common lot of men.
"'Vikramaditya performed in all points the jogi's bidding; and having inthe presence of the Vetala laid the golden key upon the palm of his hand,a voice within bade him ask the question:
"'"O Vetala, what art thou apt to do? What knowest thou?"
"'And the Vetala answered:
"'"All that I have in my mind, that I am apt to perform. I know allthings."
"'And the king said:
"'"Speak, then; what is the number of my years?"
"'And the Vetala answered:
"'"The years of thy life
are a hundred."
"'Then said the king:
"'"I am troubled because in the tale of my years there are two gaps;grant me, then, one year in excess of a hundred, or from the hundred takeone."
"'And the Vetala answered:
"'"O King, thou art in the highest degree good, liberal, merciful, just,lord of thyself, and honored of gods and of Brahmans; the measure of joysthat are ordained to fill thy life is full; to add anything thereto, totake anything therefrom, are alike impossible."
"'Having heard these words, the king was satisfied, and the Vetaladeparted unto his own place.
"'Upon the night following the king prepared no feast against the comingof the Vetala, but girt himself for fight. The Vetala came, and seeingnothing in readiness for the repast, but, on the contrary, all thingsrequisite to a combat, he waxed wroth and said:
"'"O wicked and perverse king, why hast thou made ready nothing for mypleasure this night?"
"'And the king answered: "Since thou canst neither add to my length ofyears, nor take anything therefrom, why should I make ready a repast forthee continually and without profit?"
"'The Vetala made answer:
"'"Ho--'tis thus that thou speakest! Now, truly, come fight with me; thisnight will I devour thee."
"'At these words the king rose up in wrath to smite the Vetala, and heldhim in swift and dexterous combat for a brief space. And the Vetala,having thus made proof of the might and heroism of the king, and beingsatisfied, spake and said:
"'"O King, thou art mighty indeed; I am content with thy valor; now,then, ask me what thou wilt."
"'And the king answered:
"'"Seeing that thou art well-disposed towards me, grant me this grace,that when I call thee, thou wilt in that same instant stand at my side."
"'And the Vetala, having granted this grace to the king, departed untohis own place.'"
The Babu waved his hands as a sign that the story was ended. He was dampwith perspiration, and in his glance at Desmond there was a kind offurtive appeal for approval.
"Thou speakest well, Babu," said the warder. "But what befell King Bhoyawhen the graven image had thus ended his saying?"
"That, good jailer, is another story, and if you please to hear itanother night, I will do my poor best to satisfy you."
"Well, the hour is late."
The warder rose to his feet and resumed his official gruffness.
"Come, rise; it is time I locked your fetters; and, in good sooth, mineis no golden key."
He chuckled as he watched the prisoners file one by one into the shed.Following them, he quickly locked each in turn to his staple in the walland went out, bolting and double-locking the door behind him.
"You did well, my friend," whispered Desmond in English to the Babu.
"My heart flutters like the wing of a bulbul," answered the Babu; "but Iam content, sahib."
"But say, Surendra Nath," remarked one of the Maratha captives, "lasttime you told us that story you said nothing of the golden key."
"Ah!" replied the Babu, "you are thinking of the story told by the secondgraven image in King Vikramaditya's throne. I will tell you thattomorrow."
In Clive's Command: A Story of the Fight for India Page 13
