CHAPTER FIVE.
CONCERNING TWO FOOLS.
"Major Bracebrydge--Captain Fleming"--introduced Upward. The firstlifted his hat punctiliously to Campian, the second put out his hand.To the rest of the party both were already known.
"Well--ar--Upward--lots of chikor, eh?" began the first.
"Swarms. But they've become beastly wild. Campian has been harryingthem ever since we found him one dark night half in half out of thenullah in flood."
"Oh, yes; we heard something of that I suppose--ar--Mr Campian--itwasn't one magnified by half-a-dozen--ah, ha--ha. You were travellingafter dinner, you know--ah--ha--ha?"
A certain amount of chaff in fair good fellowship Campian didn't mind.But the element of _bonhomie_ was lacking alike in the other's tone anddemeanour. The laugh too, was both fat and feeble. He did not deemthis specimen of garrison wit worthy of any answer. The other seemeddisappointed.
"I see our camels have turned up," he went on. "By Jove, Upward, I'vegot a useless lot of servants. That new bearer of mine wants kickingmany times a day. Look at him now--over there. Just look at thebrute--squatting on his haunches when he ought to be getting thingstogether. I say though, you've got all the best of it here"--surveyingthe apricot _tope_, which was incapable of sheltering even one moretent--"we shall get all the sun."
"Sorry they didn't plant more trees, old chap," said Upward. "But thenwe are here for a longish time, whereas it's only a few days with you.Come in and have a `peg.' Fleming--how about a `peg'?"
"Oh, very much about a `peg,'" responded Fleming with alacrity. He hadbeen renewing his acquaintance with Nesta about as volubly as timeallowed.
"Well, what _khubbur_ from below?" asked Upward, when they were seatedin the large dining tent, discussing the said "pegs."
"Oh, the usual thing," said Bracebrydge. "Tribes restless Khelat way--that's nothing--they always are restless."
"Ever since you've been in the country, old chap?" rejoined Upward, witha dry smile, the point of which lay in the fact that the man whoundertook to give an exhaustive and authoritative opinion on the countrywas absolutely new to it. He was not quartered at Shalalai, noranywhere else in Baluchistan; but was up, on furlough, from a hotstation in the lower plains.
"There is some talk of disturbance, though," said Fleming. "Two orthree of the Brahui sirdars sent a message to the A.G.G., which wasoffhand, not to say cheeky. Let them. We'll soon smash 'em up."
"You may do," said Upward. "But there'll be lively times first. Thenthere's all that disaffection in lower India. Things are lookingdicky--devilish dicky. I shouldn't wonder if we saw something beforelong. I've always said so."
Then they got away from the general question to _gup_ of a more privatenature--even station _gup_.
"When are you coming back to Shalalai, Miss Cheriton?" said Fleming, inthe midst of this.
"I don't know. I've only just left it," Nesta answered. "Not for along time, I think."
"That's awful hard lines on Shalalai, Miss Cheriton--ah--ha--ha," saidBracebrydge, twirling the ends of his moustache, which, waxed out on alevel with the line of his mouth, gave him a sort of barber's blockexpression, which however, the fair of the above city, and of elsewhere,deemed martial and dashing to a degree. This effect, in their sight,was heightened by a jagged scar extending from the left eye to the lowerjaw, suggestive of a sword slash at close quarters, "facing the foe"--and so forth. As a matter of hard fact this honourable wound had beenreceived while heading a storming party upon the quarters of anewly-joined and rather high tempered subaltern, for "hazing" purposes.The latter, anticipating such attentions had locked his door, and on thearrival of the "hazing" party, had given out that the first man to enterthe room was going to receive something he wouldn't like in the least.The door was burst open, and with characteristic gallantry the first manto enter was Bracebrydge, who found the destined victim to be as good ashis word, for he received a heavy article of crockery, deftly hurled,full in the face--and he didn't like it in the least--for it cut him sobadly right along the cheek that he had to retire perforce, bleedinghideously. The next day the newly-joined subaltern sent in his papers,saying he had no wish to belong to a service wherein it was necessary totake such measures to defend oneself against the overgrown schoolboyrowdyism of "brother" officers, and subsequently won distinction and theV.C. as a daring and gallant leader of irregular horse in other parts ofHer Majesty's dominions.
"I suppose you fellows will want to give the birds a turn," said Upward,after tiffin. "We'll get the ponies and start shooting from about fourmiles down the valley. I'm afraid they're beastly wild until we getthat far."
"Don't know that I feel up to it," said Fleming. "Beastly fag the rideup this morning. Think I'll just take it easy here in camp, Upward.You and Bracebrydge can go. It'll be all the better for yourselves;three guns are sure to have more sport than four."
Campian, who was in the joke, caught a sly wink from Upward, andmightily enjoyed it. Here was the latter's prediction being alreadyfulfilled.
"What sort of fellow are you, Fleming?" said Bracebrydge. "What's thegood of coming up here on purpose to shoot, and then hanging up in camp?Now I had thought of not going out. The fact is, I want to fetch asnooze."
"Oh you don't want a snooze. You snored for ten hours at a stretch theway up last night," retorted Fleming. "Now I didn't, and feel cheap inconsequence. You go along now, or you'll spoil the party. Upward andMr Campian are both keen on it."
"Rather. One of you fellows must come," declared Upward, bent onkeeping up the fun. "We might spare one of you, but not both. Threeguns we must have, to cover the ground properly."
"Then Fleming had better go," said Bracebrydge. "I'm sleepy."
"No fear, I'm going to remain in camp," declared Fleming. "I'm sleepy,too."
"Why don't you toss for it?" suggested Upward. "Sudden death--thewinner to do as he likes."
The idea took on, and Fleming came out the winner.
"All right, Bracebrydge," said the latter, jubilant. "I'll have mysnooze while you sacrifice yourself in the cause of others--and sport."
The latter snarled, but even he drew the line at backing out of hispledge.
Meanwhile Campian, no longer able to restrain a roar, had hurried fromthe dining tent.
"What's the joke, now?" called out Nesta, who, with Mrs Upward, wasseated beneath the trees.
"Yes, it _is_ a joke."
"Well, we're spoiling to hear it; go on."
"Ssh--ssh! little girls shouldn't be impatient. The joke is this--Wait.They're coming," with a look over his shoulder.
"No. They're not. Quick quick. What is it?"
"Well, the spectacle of two fellows old enough to know better, who havecome all the way up here on purpose to shoot, both keenly competing asto who shall have the privilege of remaining in camp, is comical--to saythe least of it."
"Ah, I don't believe it--" said Nesta.
"Not, eh? Well they have even gone so far as to toss for theprivilege."
"And who won?"
"Him they call Fleming. Where are you going to take him for hisafternoon stroll, Nessita? I warn you _we_ are going _down_ thevalley."
"Then _we_ will go up it," laughed the girl. "Yes, I think he is thebest fun of the two."
"A pair of great sillies, both of them," laughed Mrs Upward.
"Steady. Here comes Fleming. But you won't see much of him. He isonly remaining behind with the express object of having an afternoonsnooze. Ta-ta--I'm off."
Fleming, who was at that moment emerging from the dining tent came overto the two ladies, and throwing himself on the ground, lighted anothercheroot and began to talk. He was still talking animatedly when theshooters started.
"I say, Fleming, when are you going to have your snooze?" called outBracebrydge nastily. "You don't look so sleepy now as you did--Ar--ha--ha!" The shooters proceeded on the plan laid down, except thatBracebrydge suggested they should leave the ponie
s much sooner than wasat first intended. Then, being in a villainous temper, he shot badly,and wondered what the devil they had come to such an infernally rottenbit of shooting for, and cursed the attendant forest guard, and made astudiously offensive remark or two to Campian, who received the samewith the silence of utter contempt. Before they had been at it an hour,he flung down his gun and burst out with:
"Look here Upward, I can't shoot a damn to-day, and my boot is chafingmost infernally. I shall be lame for a month if I walk any more.Couldn't one of these fellows fetch my pony? I'll go back to camp."
"All right, old chap; do just as you like," replied Upward, giving thenecessary orders.
"Why not get on the gee, and ride on with us"--suggested Campian,innocently. "The scenery is rather good further down."
"Oh, damn the scenery! Look here though. I don't want to spoil you twofellows' shoot. You go on. Don't wait for me. The nigger will be herewith the horse directly."
"No. There's no point in waiting," assented Upward. "We'll go on eh,Campian? So long, Bracebrydge."
The two resumed their shoot, cutting down a bird here and a bird there,and soon came together again.
"That's a real show specimen, that man Bracebrydge," remarked Campian."What made you freeze on to him, Upward?"
"Oh, I met him in the Shalalai club. I never took to the man, but hewas in with some others I rather liked. It was Fleming who brought himup here."
"So? But, do you know, it's a sorrowful spectacle to see a man of hisage--already growing grey--making such an egregious ass of himself.Mind you, I'm not surprised at him being a little `gone'--she's a verytaking little girl--but to give himself away as he does, that's wherethe lunacy of the affair comes in."
Upward chuckled.
"Bless your life, old chap, Bracebrydge isn't really `gone' there."
"Not, eh? Then he's a bigger idiot than even I took him for, lettinghimself go like that."
"It's his way. He does just the same with every woman he comes across,if she's at all decent-looking, and what's more is under the impressionshe must be wildly `gone' on him; and by the way, some of them havebeen. Wait till we get back to Shalalai; you may see some fun in thatline."
"They must be greater fools even than himself. I'm not a woman-hater,but really the sex can roll out some stupendous examples of defectiveintelligence--but then, to be fair, so can our own--as for instanceBracebrydge himself. What sort of place is this, Upward?" he broke off,as they came upon a low tumble-down wall surrounding a tree; theenclosure thus formed was strewn with loose horns, as of sheep andgoats, and yet not quite like them.
"Why, it's a sort of rustic shrine, rigged up to some Mohammedan saint.Isn't it, Bhallu Khan?" translating the remark.
The forester reached over the wall, and picking up a markhor horn, wornand weather-beaten, held it towards them.
"He says it's where the people come to make offerings," translatedUpward. "When they want to have a successful stalk they vow a pair ofmarkhor horns at a place like this."
"And then deposit it here, and then the noble Briton, if in want of sucha thing to hang in his hall, incontinently bones it, and goes home andlies about it ever after," cut in Campian. "Isn't that how the casestands?"
"I don't think so. The horns wouldn't be good enough to make it worthwhile."
"I suppose not," examining the one tendered him by the forester. "Ididn't know the cultus of Saint Hubert obtained among Mohammedans. Dothese people have legends and local ghosts, and all that kind of thing?"
"Rather. You just set old Bhallu Khan yarning--pity you can'tunderstand him though. Look. See that very tree over there?" pointingout a large juniper. "He has a yarn about a fakir who used to jumpright over the top of it every day for a year."
"So? What did he do that for? As a pious exercise?"
"Something of the kind. But the joke of it is, the thing happened adevil of a time ago. When I pointed out to him that any fool could havedone the same, considering that the tree needn't have been more than ayard high, even then he hardly sees it."
"I should doubt that, Upward. My opinion is that our friend Bhallu Khanwas endeavouring to pull his superior's leg when he told that story."
"They are very stupid in some ways, though sharp as the devil in others.And the odd part of it is that most of their local sacred yarns are ofthe most absurd kind--well, like the tree and fakir story."
"They are rather a poor lot these Baluchis, aren't they? They don't goin for a lot of jewels, on their clothes and swords, like the Indianrajahs?"
"No. Some of the Afghan sirdars do, though--or at any rate used to."
"So? And what became of them all?"
"They have them still--though wait--let me see. There are yarns thatsome are hidden away, so as not to fall into the hands of other tribesas loot. There was a fellow named Keogh in our service who made a goodhaul that way. A Pathan brought him an old battered sword belt,encrusted with rough looking stones, which he had dug up, and wanted tenrupees for it Keogh beat him down to five, and brought the thing as acurio. How much do you think he sold it for?"
"Well?"
"Four thousand. The stones were sapphires."
"Where was this?" asked Campian quickly. "Anywhere near here?"
"No. Out the other side of Peshawur. You seem keen on the subject, oldchap! You haven't got hold of a notion there's anything to be done inthat line around here, eh?"
"Hardly. This sort of country doesn't grow precious stones, I guess,except precious big ones."
"Where's Bracebrydge?" queried Upward, on their return to camp two hourslater.
"He isn't back yet," replied Nesta, with a very mischievous laugh.
"What? Why, he left us more than a couple of hours ago. What can havebecome of the chap? He ought to have been back long before us."
"He was back, but he started off again," said Mrs Upward. "This timehe went the other way"--whereat both Nesta and Fleming laughedimmoderately.
"I think he started to hunt us up, didn't he, Mrs Upward?" splutteredthe latter.
"Oh, I don't know. But--I believe you saw him and gave him the go-by"--whereat the inculpated pair exchanged glances, and spluttered anew.
"I see," said Upward, amusing himself by beginning to tease Tinkles--whose growls and snaps afforded him considerable mirth. "How's hischafed foot now--Oh-h!" The last as the little terrier, getting in abite, half play, half earnest, nipped him through his trousers.
"He didn't say anything about his chafed foot. Why, here he comes."
A very sulky looking horseman rode up and dismounted. Upon him Flemingturned a fire of sly chaff; which had the effect of renderingBracebrydge sulkier than ever, and Bracebrydge sulky was not a pleasantfellow by any means. He retorted accordingly.
"Never mind, old chap," cut in Upward. "It's all right now, and nearlydinner time. Let's all have a `peg.' Nothing like a `peg' to give onean appetite."
The Ruby Sword: A Romance of Baluchistan Page 5
