The Adventures of Akbar

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The Adventures of Akbar Page 12

by Flora Annie Webster Steel


  CHAPTER IX

  SPRING

  Winter passed to spring and spring to early summer, and yet no certainnews came of King Humayon or Queen Humeeda. Foster-father almost gave uphope, yet he said little, though he took counsel with Old Faithful, andhe in his turn consulted the old mountain chief, who at the assemblagehad been the first to cry, "Long live the Heir-to-Empire."

  But the old man shook his head. The times were new, he said; very fewpeople remembered, as he did, the old ways, the old Kings. But for thesake of Babar the brave they might always count on his sword and thesabres of fifty or more of his followers. So, if the worst came to theworst, they were welcome to an asylum in his eagle's eyrie of afortress, where at any rate they could all die together fighting for theKing; and what more did any brave man want?

  This was not much consolation to Foster-father, who felt that there wasnothing to be done, save by every means in his power, to curry favourwith the Princess Sultanum.

  But, indeed, the little Heir-to-Empire made himself friends wherever hewent; they could not help liking the frank little fellow who spoke tothem so freely, with a certain grave dignity of his own. For by thetime the peach gardens around Kandahar lay like clouds of pink and whiteabout the old domed city, little Prince Akbar was in looks and ways achild of three or even four; so big and strong was he. He spokeperfectly in his childish way, with great emphasis and a curious, softburr over his r's and h's. And he actually tried to wrestle with hiscousin Ibrahim, who was, however, rather a puny boy, despite the factthat he was three years older than the little Heir-to-Empire.

  But with Roy as playmate Akbar began all sorts of games. There was ahigh, walled peach garden not far from the bastion, where the littlePrince used to be allowed to go; and there, during the long sunny hours,the Rajput lad, to whom such things were all curiously familiar, taughtthe child how to ride on Tumbu's back, and how to hold a spear. Aye! andto take a tent peg, too; the peg being only a soft carrot stuck in theearth! But the great game was shooting with a bow and arrow, and inthis, before spring passed to summer, the pupil was a match with histeacher except in strength; for, from the very beginning, Akbar showedhimself steady and straight as a shot; so it is no wonder he grew up tobe the finest marksman in India. But it would take too long to tell allthe games they played, all the manly sports which the little princelearned without any difficulty. There was a shallow marble tank in themiddle of the garden, where he took to the water like a duck, and wouldlie on his back and kick and shout with laughter as the tank got roughwith waves, till Foster-mother would beg him not to drown, as the watersplashed over him high in the air.

  But Foster-father always reproved her for her fears. "Leave the lad tolearn King's ways," he said, "and thank Heaven the Rajput foundling ishere to teach him. Think you _I_ could tumble head over heels in air orwater or ride bareback standing on one leg?"

  "No, indeed!" would reply Head-nurse, who stifled her terrors from asense of duty, "none, seeing thy figure, friend, would ask so much ofthee."

  Then, when Akbar grew tired, Roy would sit leaning his back against apeach tree so as to make a soft pillow for his little master, and Akbarwould lean against him and listen to endless stories while the softfresh breeze stole over the garden wall, and sent showers of pink peachpetals on both the boys. And sometimes the little Prince, outwearied,would fall asleep, and then Roy would sit still as a mouse, gentlyflicking away with the end of his muslin turban the blossoms that fellon the little sleeper's face. But his thoughts would be busy, wonderingabove other things why it was that, do what he would, he could not helpwhen they were alone at play sometimes calling the Heir-to-Empire"little brother." It was dreadfully wrong of him, of course, andHead-nurse would rightly cuff his ears if she overheard it!

  Then Akbar would wake and call imperiously for some favourite story, andas often as not it would be the tale of "How Rajah Rasalu swung theSeventy Maidens."

  And Roy would reply submissively: "It is ordered, Highness!" and begin:

  "Now Rajah Rasalu, soft heart and strong, heard a pitiful voice as herode along. 'Oh traveller! traveller! turn aside, and help God'screature,' it moaned and cried. So the Prince turned straight and sawthat a fire had caught a bush, blazing higher and higher, while a tinycricket lay gasping for breath, half-scorched, half-choked, and nigh toits death. Then Rajah Rasalu, soft hearted and stout, put his hand inthe fire and snatched it out! And the cricket drew forth a feeler andsaid: 'Take this, my preserver, 'twill bring you aid; should _any_ thing_ever_ prove troublesome, burn _this_ in the fire and _I_ will come.'Then Rasalu laughed with a great big laugh, 'I thank you, weakling! Butnone of your chaff! _You_ couldn't help _me_ I'll go bail.' So he rodeon careless o'er hill and dale, a glittering knight in his shining mail,till he came to the city of King Surkap, whom he'd sworn to kill withhis sword so sharp. Now as he rode through a garden gay, Seventy Maidensbarred the way; Seventy Maidens young and fair, with flowers deckingtheir golden hair. Seventy daughters of the king, come out to play andlaugh and swing and jibe at the stripling who'd sworn to slay theirfather, the mightiest king of this day. But the youngest maid had aheart of gold, and when she saw Rasalu so bold, and strong and handsomeriding to death, on his horse Iraki, she caught her breath, andwhispered to him as he passed her way:

  "'Fair prince on thy charger so gray, Turn thee back, turn thee back. If thou lowerest thy lance for the fray, Thy head will be forfeit to-day. Dost love life? then, stranger! I pray Turn thee back--turn thee back.'

  "But Rasalu smiled in the maiden's face, and drew his rein for aninstant's space, while he gave her answer with courtly grace: 'Fairmaiden, I come from afar, sworn conqueror in love and in war. Thy fathermy coming will rue, for his head in four pieces I'll hew. Then forth asa bridegroom I'll ride with you, little maid, as my bride.'

  "Now at these words, and his face so kind, and strong, and brave, themaiden's mind fluttered, the blood through her heartstrings whirled, shefelt she could follow him through the world; but her sixty-nine sisterswere jealous and cried: 'Not so fast, young man! If _she_ be your bride,_you_ be our younger brother, beside! So do our bidding or go on yourway.' 'Fair sisters,' quoth he, 'let me hear your say!' Now the sistersvowed he should not succeed, so they took a whole hundred-weight ofseed, as fine as the hundred-weight of sand they mixed it with, thengave command: 'If you wish to marry our sister, sir, take the seed fromthe sand without demur.'

  "Then Rajah Rasalu stood aghast; but he thought of the cricket's gift atlast, and taking it out of his pocket thrust it into the fire, and acloud as dust showed in the sky and the distant whirr of thousands ofwings caused the air to stir, as, dark'ning the day like a fun'ral pall,a flight of crickets appeared at the call. 'What is our task?' asked hisfriend with a laugh; 'only _that_? I've brought too many by half!' Sothey set to work with a will indeed, till the sand lay separate from theseed, and sixty-nine maidens pouted and frowned as they wondered _what_new task could be found, to puzzle Rasalu and keep him there a slave tothe wishes of maidens fair. 'Now swing us all, sir, one by one, when wegrow tired your task is done!'--they laughed in their sleeve, for theyknew right well, that when they'd be tired, none could tell!

  "But Rasalu laughed: 'What! seventy girls--for my little bride is thepearl of pearls--and only one man to swing the lot! Shall I spend mylife in such silly rot? No! into one swing the seventy go; I'll fastenthe rope to my mighty bow, and shoot an arrow for all I know, so inwith you, girls, sit all in a row, and don't be frightened, my littledears, I'll swing till you're tired, so have no fears.'

  "Then the seventy clambered into one swing--so merry, so careless, theirvoices ring. And Rasalu stood in his shining array, as merry andcareless as happy as they. He fastened the ropes to his mighty bow, andbent till it would no further go; then with a twang he loosed thestring, and like an arrow the laden swing with its burden of seventymaidens fair, shot like an arrow into the air. Merry and careless withlaugh and smile, up in the sky for many a mile; like a soaring bird inthe distant blue
, while merry and careless, and tall and true, Rasaluwaited upon the plain, till the swing swung back to its place again.Then he out with his sword and laughed anew, 'Ye have had a fine ride,ye giggling crew; enough and to spare, so out with you there!' Then hesevered the ropes with one mighty sweep, and the seventy maidens fell ina heap; and some were broken and some were bruised, and the only onethat was not ill-used was the youngest maid, for she did not drop tillthe very last, so she fell on top!"

  And here Prince Akbar used always to laugh gravely and say: "Glad shedidn't tumble down _really_, for she was a nice little girl."

  One day when the peach blossoms had all floated away, leaving in theirplace grey-green fluffy ovals that by-and-bye would be luscious ripefruits, Foster-father arrived in a great state of excitement just asRasalu had finished swinging his Seventy Maidens.

  "News, news!" he cried; "real news at last; and thank Heaven they aregood! My master, the King, has not only secured shelter, but help, andhath written to his brother, Prince Askurry, advising him not to listento ill advice, but to give in his allegiance at once, when all shall beforgotten. In token of which clemency he is sending to hisstill-dearly-beloved brother, Her Royal Highness the Princess BaksheeBani Begum, that she may be a companion to her half-brother, theHeir-to-Empire."

  Prince Akbar, who was leaning on Roy's breast, suddenly sat up. "Is thatmy sister?" he asked eagerly, "is she a nice little girl like Rasalu'sbride?"

  Head-nurse laughed. "Nice enough I'll warrant, though I never saw her;she has been since she was born, six years past, with her mother'speople; but so long as they send no fine ladies of nurses with her sheis welcome."

  Little Prince Akbar stood up and stretched himself, and looked atHead-nurse critically.

  "Akka will welcome her, and Akka will tell you to be her nurse, and Akkawill swing her a great big swing."

  So far as he was concerned _that_ settled the question; but up at theCourt there were endless questionings of heart. Prince Askurry was, asever, in two minds as to what he should do. Cruel brother Kumran, whowas Governor at Kabul, pressed his advice to stand firm, to send thechild to him, to let him show King Humayon that paid Persian troopscould not stand up against Indian ones. But Princess Sultanum had reallybecome fond of the little Heir-to-Empire, and felt sure that if theyonly played their cards carefully the king, out of gratitude, wouldconsent to a betrothal between his son and her little daughter Amina.And in the end the wife's counsel prevailed. So a better lodgment wasfound for the royal children in an old palace surrounded by a lovelygarden, and here, just as the roses were beginning to bloom, littlePrince Akbar, dressed in his best, stood awaiting his sister's arrival.He had insisted on having, like Rajah Rasalu, a coat of mail; soFoster-mother had made him a tight-fitting corselet of silver tissue, inwhich he looked very fine indeed, as he stood brandishing a wooden swordcovered with tin foil.

  But when the red and gold bedecked camel did finally come up themarble-paved pathway with silent soft elastic swing, little Akbar forgotall about the part he was playing, and when he saw his sister, just ranup to her and hugged her tight, and said breathlessly: "Ah! you are anice little girl!"

  And a very nice little girl she was! Very small for her age, with alittle oval delicate face, big hazel eyes, and brownish hair all plaitedin tiny, tiny little plaits on her forehead.

  And she was dressed just like a grown-up, with little ear-rings andwristlets and anklets and necklaces and rings, with the dearest,daintiest of flimsey gauze veils set with little silver stars wound allabout her! Never, said Head-nurse, had been such a darling littlemarionette, and when the small person fell gracefully at her brother'sfeet and begged his favour in a little piping voice, that stern believerin court etiquette was perfectly enchanted.

  "It will be a real boon to the First-Gentleman-of-the-World, theCourtly-one-of-Courts, etc., etc., to have the society of his equals,"she said with a darkling look at Princess Sultanum's Head-nurse, who hadbrought Prince Ibrahim and Baby Amina to welcome their cousin.

  But, after all, Bakshee Bani Begum did not turn out so demure as shelooked! Indeed, when Head-nurse was not by, she was a regular tomboy;and after a whole morning spent in most lady-like fashion either playingwith her dolls, or stringing beads, while Down, the cat, on her lapblinked and purred and stared out on the world with her big blue eyesand her little white feet tucked well inside, she would, when the womenretired to get ready the mid-day meal, spring up like a squirrel,scattering beads and cats as if they were of no account! Then thegarden would re-echo to children's laughter.

  And she would let Mirak, as she elected to call her brother, swing herfor hours, but she obstinately refused to tumble down!

  "But, Bija," expostulated the little lad, "the princess did tumble downin the story."

  "I am not a princess _in a story_," said Bija calmly, "I am Her RoyalHighness Princess Bakshee Bani Begum."

 

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