CHAPTER SIX.
THE VICTIM.
The effect of his mere name upon his prisoner answered the robberchief's own question, nor had the latter any reason to feel disappointedover the method of its reception. The wretched trader's countenancebecame ghastly, and his mouth fell open, while the perspiration oozedfrom him at every pore. He would about as soon have fallen into thepower of the Enemy of mankind.
"Mercy, Sirdar Sahib. Take what I have and suffer me to depart," wasall he could articulate, slobberingly.
Murad Afzul laughed, and a harsh evil laugh it was. He was afine-looking man, tall and with good features, which would have beenpleasing, but for the quick, predatory look, and the savage scowl whichwould cloud them upon very slight provocation.
"Tell me, fat dog," he said. "Canst thou name one of thy sort who fellinto my hands and came forth again?"
The trader fairly howled with terror, for this was just where hisposition came home to him. If there was one thing for which this MuradAfzul and his band were known and dreaded, it was for their absolutemercilessness. Mere death was the greatest mercy their victims couldexpect. True, there were some who had come forth alive, but sohideously maimed and shattered that they had better have been dead, andwith awful tales to tell of torture and horror either witnessed orundergone. Indeed, such a scourge had these freebooters become, thatstrong pressure was brought to bear upon the chief of the Gularzai, andin the result these outrages had ceased, in recognition of which promptcompliance Mahomed Mushim Khan had been invested by the IndianGovernment with the title of Nawab--somewhat to the contempt of thesefierce mountaineers, as we heard them express it.
With all of this was the unfortunate Hindu so well acquainted that hewould never have dreamed of trusting his person or possessions in thesemountain solitudes, but that he, like others, was under the impressionthat Murad Afzul had taken himself and his depredations clean away tothe territory of some other potentate, and the possibility of thatredoubted outlaw taking advantage of the advent of a new Political Agentto break out afresh had escaped him altogether.
Now, under the direction of their chief, the freebooters were riflingthe packs--and at first found not much in them, for they were for themost part stuffed out with dummy matter, to convey the idea that theirowner had done so bad a trade as not to be worth plundering. Buteverything that could possibly conceal a coin was promptly laid open bythe expeditious process of a blow with a stone hammer or the slash of atulwar, and soon a goodly pile of rupees lay heaped up ready fordivision. Murad Afzul grinned with delight.
"God is good," he said, rubbing his hands. "The spoils of the infidelhath he delivered to the true believer. Yet, O fat pig, it is notenough. Ha! not enough."
"Not enough? But it is my all, Sirdar Sahib; yea, my all," groaned thetrader.
"Wah-wah! but I am poor, and have not the wherewith to start lifeafresh."
"It is not enough," repeated the other, the glitter of his eyes and thefell meaning of his tone becoming terrible in its significance. "Tenthousand rupees must be added to it."
"Ten thousand! How can I find such a sum, Sirdar Sahib, I who am but apoor man? I have not a tenth of it."
"Now art thou blowing up the fire which shall consume thine own limbs,yet slowly, thou foul dog. Wait. Thou shalt taste how it feels."
At a signal the prisoner was seized and bound. The while, others wereheating an old gun-barrel in a fire which had been kindled when theyfirst halted. Then they brought it towards him. At the sight themiserable wretch uttered a loud scream of terror and despair.
"Squeal louder, pig," jeered Murad Afzul. "There is none to hear theesave these rocks, and they are accustomed to such sounds. Ha! ha!"
The miserable man struggled frantically, promising to pay anything ifthey would refrain from torturing him. But the lust of cruelty, nowawakened in those ferocious natures, would not be allayed, and the hotiron was laid hissing to the thigh of their victim, whose frenzied andagonising yells rang in deafening and fiend-like echoes from thesurrounding rocks, grim and pitiless as though rejoicing in the act ofsavagery upon which they glared down. Then Murad Afzul, too experiencedin such matters to prolong the agony unduly, made a sign that it shouldcease.
"How likest thou that, pig?" he said. "Did not thy fat frizzle? I havea mind to send a slice of it to the swine-eating Feringhi at Mazaran.Did it hurt, the kiss of the hot iron? Yet that was but the beginning.How would it feel lasting the whole day. Think, for thou wilt now havea little time."
It was the hour of prayer, and now the whole band, with their shoes off,and their chuddas spread on the ground, facing in the direction ofMecca, were going through the prescribed prostrations and formulae ofthe Moslem ritual. Ibrahim the _mullah_, a little in front of the rest:led the devotions, intoning each strophe in a nasal, droning key, theothers ranged behind him in rows, now kneeling, now rising, respondedsomewhat after the manner of the recital of a litany, but perhaps, to anoutside observer, the absolute and wholehearted devoutness of theirdemeanour would have constituted the strangest part of it. Not a shadowof compunction had they for the hideous act of barbarity in which theyhad a moment ago indulged, and which they would almost certainly repeat.Why should they, indeed? What was the agony of an infidel dog more orless to them or to Heaven? Why, the very cries of such must be as musicin the ears of the latter. So they continued laying this brick in theedifice of their salvation; and, having concluded, resumed their shoesand turned their attention once more to their victim.
The latter, the while, had been thinking if haply some hope of rescuemight not occur to him. The Sahib had known of his presence, for hehimself had given him permission to travel under his protection. Wouldhe not miss him, and, as a consequence, order a body of men to ride backto his rescue? These would assuredly come upon the scene of his captureand follow upon his tracks. But--would they? The Levy Sowars weredrawn from the same region and were of the same faith as his captors, ofwhom they would know the strength and resource, and with whom they wouldcertainly avoid engaging in a fight on behalf of such as he. Besides--and again Chand Lall had reason to curse his own stinginess, in that hehad been more than "near" in bestowing the expected _dasturi_ upon theSahib's chuprassis, wherefore these would infallibly take care that nosuspicion of his disaster should reach their master's ears. Further,was it not a matter of absolute certainty that, rather than allow hisrescue, Murad Afzul would give orders for his throat to be cut from earto ear? No, there was no hope--not a ray.
"Talk we again of the rupees," began Murad Afzul. "I am moved torequire double the amount now, but Allah is merciful, and shall I beless so? I will be content with ten thousand. Wherefore, O dog, thoushalt write and deliver to Ibrahim, our brother--who is holy andlearned--a letter which shall cause those who guard the fruits of thineavarice and usury, to pay over to him that sum. Yet think not to writeaught that shall render this void, for Ibrahim is learned as well asholy, and can read in many tongues. Further, should he not return tous, thine own fate shall be even as though thou wert already writhing inthe lowest depths of Jehanum."
"It were better, Sirdar Sahib, that I myself travelled to Mazaran toprocure it, for our people are distrustful of strangers." Murad Afzullaughed evilly. "But we are doubly so, O worshipper of debauchedidols," he said. "So thou wouldst fain fare forth thyself? Ha, ha,then how long would it be before we beheld thee again, or one single oneof the ten thousand rupees?"
"Why, as soon as I could collect them, and to do that I would spare nopains, no trouble, Sirdar Sahib, although it would leave me a poor man,and in debt for life," replied Chand Lall, eagerly thinking, poor fool,that his jailor was going to set him free on so slender a security ashis bare word. But the shout of laughter that went up from all whoheard quickly undeceived him.
"Who having a caged bird of value turns that bird loose to stretch hiswings in the hope that it will return to its cage?" said the chief."Thou art to us a caged bird of value, thou eater of money--wherefo
re wekeep thee until thou hast no further value. Show him," he added,turning to his followers.
In obedience to this somewhat mysterious mandate one of them turned anddived into a cleft, producing therefrom an object which he gleefullyunrolled, and held up before the gaze of the horrified captive--andwell, indeed, might the latter quake, for it was the skin of a man.
It had been most deftly taken off. Face, head, ears--everything infact. Staring at the horrid thing, Chand Lall felt his very marrow meltwithin him.
"See," said Murad Afzul. "He did not die, even then. He lived to tasteof fire and boiling ghee." And the rest of the band laughed likefiends, but the wretched Hindu covered his face and shook.
"Well mayst thou tremble," went on his pitiless tormentor. "For shouldIbrahim return without ten thousand rupees, or not return at all, by thesetting of the third sun, thine own skin shall dry beside that one."
The victim uttered a loud cry.
"The third sun! Why, Sirdar Sahib, that will be impossible. I cannever have so much money collected in so short a time. Make it thesixth sun."
Murad Afzul consulted a moment with his followers. Then he said,--
"Allah is merciful, and so, too, will I be. I will say then by thesetting of the fifth sun after this one. Yet try not to play us anyfalse trick, thou dog, for it will be useless, and for what it will meanto thyself, look on yonder and be assured," and, as though to emphasisethe chief's words, he who held the horrible human skin shook itwarningly and suggestively in the face of the thoroughly terrifiedhostage.
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The Political Agent, having dined well in his evening camp, was goingover some official papers by the light of the tent lamp.
"Oh, Sunt Singh," he said, looking up as a chuprassi entered, "whatbecame of that trader who was with us? I didn't see him when we firstcamped."
"_Huzoor_, he is camped just below the sowars' tents, I believe."
"Yes? You may go," and the official resumed what he was doing, withoutfurther thought for the luckless Chand Lall, who certainly was not wherethe lying chuprassi had said.
The Sirdar's Oath: A Tale of the North-West Frontier Page 6
