Tara: A Mahratta Tale

by Meadows Taylor

  CHAPTER LVII.

  Meanwhile the rites proceeded, and the recitations. Moro Trimmulwas declaiming, with unusually excited gestures and eloquence, theimpassioned passages which had been assigned to him, often interruptedby the cries of "Jey Kalee! Jey Toolja!" and the clapping of handswhich proceeded from the people whenever a favourite sentiment orallusion to the glorious days of Hindu power occurred in the text.Before concluding his part, which was the last of the night'sperformance, he had withdrawn to the back of the temple, and beckonedto Gunga, and a brief colloquy passed between them.

  There was no faltering in the purposes of either. Gunga had noticedthe departure of Anunda and Radha with exultation which she couldhardly conceal. She had gone to Tara after she resumed her positionat the shrine, touched her feet, and thanked her for remaining. Otherpriestesses, too, had crowded round her, and, excited as they were,all united in determining that the last procession should be unusuallyremarkable.

  "See," said Gunga, as she came to him, "all is ready. There is no oneby the door inside; but try it, and ascertain who are outside. Bethou ready only, and trust to me for the rest. Nay, I will come withthee--look!"

  The place was dark, for there was no illumination behind the temple,and by its mass a broad shadow was thrown on the recess in which thedoor was situated. The girl stepped into it, followed by the Brahmun,and opened the door slightly. A number of dark forms were sittingwithout on a small terrace, from whence descended a flight of stepsinto the ravine. One rose. "Wagya!" she said in a low voice.

  "I am here, lady," he replied; "is it time?"

  "Not yet. When the next procession passes round the corner yonder, comeout to look at it; you will not be noticed. Have you the blanket?"

  "It is here," he said, holding one up; "and they are all ready yonder,"and he pointed to the trees, where there was a dull glow as of theembers of a small fire--"palankeen, horses and all."

  "Be careful of her as you carry her out," she continued. "If she ishurt----"

  The man laughed. "There is no fear," he said; "she will be carrieddaintily like a child, and cannot struggle in this."

  "Good," she replied; "now be careful, and watch."

  "Art thou satisfied?" she continued to Moro Trimmul, who had remainedbehind the door.

  "Yes; thou art true, Gunga. I am true also, and here is the zone; putit on, and let it shame hers," he replied, taking the ornament fromunderneath his waist-cloth where he had concealed it.

  "Ah!" she cried, taking it and clasping it round her waist, "thouart----"

  "What is that?" he cried, interrupting her and catching her arm; "thereis some disturbance without. What can it be? Listen!"

  "I will look," she said; "stay thou here."

  She turned the corner of the temple, but could proceed no farther.Every one had risen: and there was a wild, struggling, heaving massof people before her, from among which piercing shrieks of women andchildren, mingled with hoarse cries of men, were rising fast in adreadful clamour: while several shots, discharged in quick successionat the gate above, seemed to add to the general terror and confusion.

  "They are fighting at the gate!" cried a man near her; and a cry of"the Toorks, the Toorks!" followed in agonizing tones from the women.

  Gunga did not hesitate. She, perhaps, of all that crowd, was the mostcollected. Darting to Moro Trimmul she said hastily, "Do not move--Iwill bring her;" and so passed round to the back of the temple. As shedid so, she met Tara and several other girls, some screaming, otherssilent from terror, but evidently making for the postern.

  "My father! O Gunga, my father!" cried Tara piteously, "come with me,we will find him. Come; I have none but thee, Gunga, who dare seek him;come with me!"

  "Yes," she said, "round this way; I saw him a moment ago. Come, we willget down the steps; I know the way up the mountain from below. Come!"cried Gunga with a shriek; and seeing that Tara hesitated, and thatpeople were crowding through the vestibule into the dark portion of thecourt, and hiding themselves among the cloisters,--she caught her armand dragged her forward.

  Moro Trimmul saw the action, and, unnoticed in the confusion, seizedTara from behind and bore her to the postern. The girl's shrieks seemedto ring high above all others in that horrible tumult, but they werequickly stifled in the blanket thrown over her, while she was bornerapidly down the steps by those stationed there, to whom Moro Trimmulresigned her.

  "Thou canst not return, Moro," said Gunga, who had closed and lockedthe door unobserved and flung away the key; "let us fly for our lives.Hark! they are fighting within, and may follow us."

  "O for my sword to strike in once for those poor friends!" cried MoroTrimmul with a groan. "They have been seeking me, and the rest willsuffer. What art thou but liar and murderess, O Toolja! that thou dostnot protect thy votaries? must they perish in thy very presence?"

  "Hush, and come fast," cried Gunga, dragging him down the steps. "Fool,wilt thou die with the rest? Away! mount and ride for thy life; I willbring her after thee."

  * * * * *

  The Khan and his companions, as they had arranged, separated into threebodies as they reached the town; and as they filed off to the right andleft in succession, the Khan, with the Peer and others, rode into thegate, and secured it. They had met no one outside the town; inside werea few of the royal soldiery on duty, who, themselves surprised, couldhave made no opposition, even had the Khan been an enemy.

  Down the centre street, which was also empty, except of stragglerscoming from the temple, the horsemen poured, now pressing on fast fromthe rear; and a body of them, dismounting in the centre of the town,rushed forward down the bazar to secure the entrance to the temple.Then some people, who were advancing, saw danger, and hastened to warnthose in charge to shut it, turning back with loud shouts, otherscoming on. A party of the Nimbalkur's men, who were in attendance withtheir chief's horses, and were around the entrance within, mounted thesmall bastions at the sides, while others shut the doors.

  Those who reached them first were Pahar Singh and Ibrahim Khan, withsome of the Abyssinians and other followers, mingled together, eachstriving to be foremost.

  "Open the gate; we mean no harm," cried Pahar Singh in Mahratta; "weare on the King's service, and if you resist, your blood be on your ownheads!"

  "We will admit no one," cried a voice from the bastion. "Go! ye arerobbers, and we will fire on ye."

  "I say it again," returned the chief, "we are a thousand men, and Icannot save you if you hesitate. Open the gate!"

  There was no reply, but several matchlocks were pointed from theparapet above, which was loopholed.

  "Hast thou the axe, Rama?" asked the chief.

  "It is here," said the man, drawing a heavy axe-head from his waist:and, coolly fitting a helve to it, lifted it above his head. "Shall I?"

  "Strike!" cried Pahar Singh.

  Several heavy blows fell on the gate, and a man called out from thebastion, "Desist, or we fire."

  But Rama heeded no warning. Again two crashing blows, struck with hisfull force, had splintered some of the wood-work, and he had upliftedhis arm for another, when one of the men at a lower loophole fired.Rama swayed to and fro for a moment, and, falling heavily to theground, the blood gushed from his mouth in a torrent.

  Pahar Singh did not speak, but he gnashed his teeth in fury. Rama, ofall his inferior followers, was the one most devoted--and was brave torecklessness. The chief saw that the shot must have been deadly. Hemight have shared the same fate; but the men without, his own as wellas the Abyssinians, returned the fire, and distracted the aim of thosewithin.

  "By----" and the oath was lost in the clamour--he cried, putting hissword between his teeth, seizing the axe, and striking at the door withhis whole force, "ye shall die, sons of vile Mahratta mothers. Everyone of ye shall howl in hell for that poor fellow."

  Blow after blow followed; and as the panel near the lock broke underthem, a number of the chief's men and the Abyssinians rushed againstthe door, which
gave way under their combined weight and force, andentrance was effected.

  On the noise of the first shouts reaching them, the Khan, the priest,and others, rushed down the street, and arrived at the scene of action.The firing was increasing, and several of the Khan's followers andAbyssinians had fallen. Some were already dead, others wounded; and,wedged as they had been in a mass, every shot had told on them, whilethose who defended the gate could not be seen. Its being forced,however, changed the feature of the contest; and the Khan, who, in theheat of the excitement, forgot his caution and warning to the men, nowshouted his battle-cry; while the priest, struggling in with the rest,cried to the men--"Bismilla!--in the name of God and the Prophet--slay,slay--ye true believers! Heed not death--ye will be martyrs! Let notthe Kaffirs live, who have killed the faithful. Send them to hell, toperish with their devil's idols. Kill! kill!"

  With such cries, had men of Islam been hounded on by their priestsbefore. Was he to be less? Here, in the very holiest of infideltemples, should the might of Islam be felt.

  But, in truth, the men needed but little excitement; what was therebefore them was enough. Who did not remember that it was a Jehad,a war of the faith, which had been preached to them daily? Who didnot remember that to slay infidels in war earned the blessing of theProphet and paradise? So, with Pahar Singh leading them, his swordbetween his teeth, and striking down men right and left with every blowof his axe, the infuriated soldiery rushed in a body down the steps andinto the large court below.

  Who can describe the scene? Shrieking women and helpless men strove tofly before them, but in vain; and the bloody work of their enemies,as they pressed forward, hewing with their long sharp weapons at theunresisting masses, was quick and deadly. Pahar Singh saw Nimbalkur andseveral other chiefs standing resolutely before the entrance to theshrine, sword in hand, awaiting the onset. "Yield," he cried, "yourlives will be spared; why shed blood? Jey Rao, be wise, down with yoursword;"--and for an instant the parties stood opposite to each otherglaring defiance. But bloodshed was not yet to be stayed. Some ofthe infuriated Abyssinians again dashed into the mass of the peoplewith a shout of "Deen, Deen!" striking indiscriminately at all beforethem, and the Mahratta chiefs were swept into the temple. As they werefollowed, Vyas Shastree, who, remembering his old skill in weapons, andunable to control himself, had seized sword and shield and mixed withthe rest,--struck at a huge negro who was foremost, and wounded himseverely.

  "Dog of a Kaffir," cried the man, grinding his teeth, "get thee tohell!" and had not his arm caught that of a fellow-soldier who wasnear, depriving the cut of its force, Vyas Shastree had spoken no more.As it was, the blow descended upon his bare head,--he fell senselessamong the crowd of dead and dying,--and those who entered the temple,trampled over him as one of the slain.

  Pahar Singh's object was to save the shrine if possible, but he felthimself helpless against the crowd of Moslems who, headed by thepriest, now filled the vestibule, shouting their fanatic cry of "Deen,Deen!" Life was dear to him, dearer than the idol, for which, in truth,he had no particular veneration, though he had dread. "If thou canstnot save thyself, Mother," he muttered, "I am not going to die forthee," and, stepping aside, the men of Islam pressed on.

  The priest was among the foremost to enter the sanctum, where two oldBrahmuns, cowering beside the altar, were instantly slain; and, seizingthe necklaces of pearls and precious stones, he tore them away from theneck of the image, with one hand flinging them out among the people,while with the other he overthrew it, and, trampling it underfoot, spatupon the face in scorn and contempt.

  If the men in the temple courts, impelled by religious fury, showedno mercy, and, hunting unresisting men and women into dark corners,slew them indiscriminately till the areas were filled with dead anddying, lying in heaps as they had fallen by the sword or had beentrampled down; those who had remained outside were, in their turn, nomore humane. Under the cry of "Deen, Deen!--for the faith, for thefaith!" more cruelty was perpetrated in Tooljapoor than it has eversince forgotten; and daylight revealed a scene of plunder, rapine, anddestruction, such as may be conceived--but hardly described.

  Anunda and Radha were safe at home, as we have already related; when,after an indistinct murmur, for which she could not account, the shotsat the temple gate were suddenly heard; and, looking from the terrace,they saw the confusion in the court commence. Both were brave, but theterror of Anunda for her husband and Tara, was fast paralysing hersenses.

  "I will die here," she said; "take the wealth and jewels and leave me.Escape as thou canst, Radha; hide thyself, Moro will come and seekthee."

  But Radha would not leave her; and, descending to the lower apartments,they sat cowering in their chamber, shivering at every sound, and,having extinguished the light, remained in utter darkness.

  "Lady, lady!" cried a man's voice in the outer verandah; "where artthou?"

  "It is Janoo Naeik, the Ramoosee," said Anunda in a whisper. "God rewardhim for coming; he is true; Radha, let us go with him."

  "Lady, lady! the house is not safe! come, come," continued the manearnestly; "leave all--my people will guard it--only come. Your honouris more than wealth, and you can only save it by flight."

  The terror of violence brought them forth. "Follow me," he said; "hereare twenty men to guard the house--no one will molest them."

  The women followed silently, sobbing as they went. The Ramoosee ledthem northwards out of the town to the edge of the great ravine, anddescended a steep path, which they knew led to a spring in one of thebroad steps or ledges of the mountain, near which was a recess in therock familiar to both. "Stay here," he said; "no one can see you. Imust return: here, I should only betray you."

  "At least, take away our ornaments," said Anunda; "we dare not keepthem. Keep them thyself, or hide them somewhere;" and the women hastilytook off all they wore, and laid them on the ground before him.

  Janoo sat down on his hams, and counted them deliberately. "There arethirteen pieces, large and small, gold and silver together. Yes, theyare safe with me. Now, take my blanket, though it be a Mang's; sit init till daylight. Ye can bathe afterwards and be clean. I will comeearly if I can, and take ye down the hills to Afsinga, or else send myson."

  So saying, and without waiting for a reply, he left them, ascended thepath rapidly, and disappeared over the ledge of the mountain; and thewomen remained, shivering with fright and cold, and listening in terrorto the shots, which rose above the confused roar of screams and shoutsproceeding from the town.

  On the other side, in the ravine, the progress of the band who carriedoff Tara was but a short one. Struggling vainly with her captors, shefound resistance hopeless. Borne in the arms of two men, others heldher hands and feet; and over her one of the thick coarse blankets ofthe common people had been thrown, which prevented cry of any kind.Tara felt that the men were gentle with her, and in spite of herterror, she retained her senses completely. She was aware that shewas taken down the steps, and hurried along rapidly at a run; thenthere was a pause, and she was thrown into--rather than placed in--apalankeen, the doors shut to violently, and kept closed. They werecarrying her away. Who could it be but Moro Trimmul, that was to leavethat night? Even now her father might hear her screams, and terrorlent strength to her voice; but in vain--succour from him was indeedhopeless.

  As may be supposed, nothing had prevented the progress of the partyunder Fazil and Gopal Singh; and the latter, a pleasant companion,had amused the young Khan with anecdotes of his uncle, and of theirborder life. He knew the ground perfectly, and they soon reachedtheir destination; and while part of his men were drawn up betweenthe rivulet and the pass, and some even ascended the pass itself, heconducted Fazil into the temple glen, which turned to the right out ofthe main ravine. At its mouth was some level ground, and the horsemenhad just occupied it when the attack began above.

  It would have been impossible for the bearers of Tara's litter to carryit over that rough path in the dark; and as she had been put into it, atorch was lighted,
which was instantly seen by Fazil and Gopal Singh.

  "Not a word from any one," cried the latter; "some one is escaping.They cannot get away from us. Now, Meah, be careful."

  "Strike, if any one resists," said Fazil to the men about him; "butit is better to take them alive. Look, 'tis a litter--who can it be?Peace, all of you; be silent!"

  The gloom of night and some bushes concealed them, and the advancingparty saw and suspected nothing. Moro Trimmul was riding in front,Gunga following him. The palankeen was behind with the Ramoosees andservants around it on all sides. The baggage-ponies had already gone onbefore.

  "Stop!" cried Fazil, as he laid hold of the Brahmun, and held his nakedsword over him. "Who art thou?--nay, struggle or attempt to escape, andI will kill thee.--A Brahmun? Who art thou?"

  Moro Pundit had had no time to dress himself for the journey. Hisclothes were in the palankeen. Naked to the waist, with his hairstreaming about his shoulders, he had come as he had been reciting. Hehad no weapons, nor means of resistance; and, though a powerful man,was no match for Fazil, who held him like a vice.

  "Moro Trimmul, by the gods!" exclaimed Gopal Singh, who recognized himas the light from the torch fell upon him. "Ah, Maharaj!" he added,"you don't know me, but I have seen you before."

  "Then we are indeed fortunate, friends," said Fazil joyfully; "and whois in the litter?"

  "My wife," said the Brahmun sullenly; "do as ye will with me, but lether and the servants go on."

  "Then thou hast married only lately, Pundit?" said Gopal Singh dryly;"thou hadst no wife three days ago. We had as well look at her, at allevents, Meah, and prevent her screaming."

  "Open the door! release me! release me!" cried Tara from within inpiteous accents. "Let me go! let me go! Ah, sirs, for your mothers'honour, release me!"

  "Art thou his wife?" asked Fazil, dismounting and opening the door ofthe palankeen; "if so, fear not, we have no war with women."

  "Not so; I am not his wife," cried Tara hastily, disengaging herselffrom the litter, and throwing herself at Fazil's feet. "O sir, save me!Noble sir, by your mother's, by your sister's honour, save me from him;he would have carried me away. Nay, I will not rise till you tell meyou will take me to my father. O return with me and rescue him, else hewill be slain! Come, I will lead ye back; he is a priest of the temple!"

  "It cannot be, girl," said Fazil, more disturbed by Tara's beauty, andmore agitated than he cared to acknowledge to himself. "It cannot betill daylight, and no one will touch your father if he be a Brahmun;so sit in the litter and fear not. And thou art not his wife?" and hepointed to Moro Trimmul.

  "O no, my lord," said the girl trembling; "you have been sent by theHoly Mother to deliver me, else he would have carried me away by force.Do not give me to him, I beseech you."

  "Fear not," said Fazil; "no harm shall come to thee here. There is morein this matter than we can now find out, friends," he continued tothose about him; "but bind that Brahmun on his horse, and tie it to oneof your own."

  "Ah, sir, I will do that beautifully," cried Lukshmun, "and with hisown waist-cloth too. But, friends, see that my wife does not run away,while I am busy for the master there--to my mind she is the handsomestof the two."

  It was Gunga who, knowing the path, had turned from it when MoroTrimmul met Fazil, and, slipping from her horse, had tried to escapeamong the bushes; but the quick eye of Lukshmun had detected her, andhe had seized and dragged her forward.

  "May earth fall on thee, dog!" cried the girl, struggling with him,"foul hunchback as thou art, let me go."

  "Not so," he said, "I know thee, Gunga. My lord, she is one of theMoorlees of the Mother up yonder; and are not all women taken in warslaves?"

  "Peace," cried Fazil; "sit quiet there, girl; move not, else I willhave thee tied. Ah, that will do, friend," he continued, as Lukshmunfinished his careful binding up of Moro Trimmul; "you have not hurthim?"

  "Master," replied the man, wagging his head, "it is a plan of my own,and while he is helpless to move, he is in no pain. Is it not so,Maharaj? Now sit quiet on your horse, Punditjee, while I look after mywife; she has a noble gold belt, which she has promised me. Is it notso, O lotos-face?"

  "My lord," said Gopal Singh, interrupting, "the disturbance above growsworse--had we not as well send the women and others to the rear? Ifthere is any rush this way, they may come to harm."

  "A good thought, friend," replied Fazil.

  "It is no use," said Gunga, "the door is locked, and the key was thrownaway: no one can escape from thence by this road."

  So they remained, while the tumult increased to a roar which filledthe glen, above which shots were now and then heard; then fell to adull murmur, and finally seemed to die away in the distant town. Thetemple lights became dim, and went out one by one, and the ravine grewdark. Then the stars shone out, and after a while dawn broke, and themountain, and the rugged precipices of the glen and town above, weregradually revealed in the grey light.