CHAPTER LXXVIII.
The morning broke, calm and beautiful. Long before the highest peaks ofthe mountains blushed under the rosy light which preceded the sunrise,the Khan and Fazil, with Zyna, had risen and performed their morningprayer. The deep booming sound of the kettle-drums woke the echoesaround, and reverberated from side to side of the valley, retiring torecesses among the glens, and murmuring softly as it died away amongthe distant peaks and precipices. As yet, the valley was partiallyfilled with mists, which clung to its wooded sides; but as the sunrose, a slight wind sprang up with it, which, breaking through thesemists, drove them up the mountain, and displayed the scenery in all itsfresh morning beauty, as though a curtain had been suddenly drawn frombefore it.
Behind them were the stupendous mountains of the Maha-bul-eshwur range;before, at a short distance, and divided from them by a chain ofsmaller hills, rose up the precipices of Pertabgurh, glittering in themorning light, and crowned by the walls and bastions of the fortress.
Long before daylight the lady Lurlee had risen, and, careful for herhusband, had, in conjunction with Kurreema, cooked his favourite dishof kicheri and kabobs. "It was a light breakfast," she said, "and wouldagree with them better than a heavier repast, and dinner would be readywhen they returned." So Afzool Khan, his son, and the priest, ate theirearly meal, not only in joyful anticipation of a speedy return, but ofaccomplishing what would result in honour to all concerned.
They remembered afterwards, that as an attendant brought before theKhan the usual mail shirt he wore, and the mail-cap, with its brightsteel chains, over which his turban was usually tied when fullyaccoutred, he laughingly declined both. "They will be very hot anduncomfortable," he said, "and we are not going to fight. No, give me amuslin dress," which he put on. A few words about ordinary householdmatters to Lurlee, a few cheering sentences to Zyna, as he passed fromthe inner and private enclosure of the tent, and he went out among themen.
Fazil followed, fully armed and accoutred for riding. There had beena good-humoured strife between Fazil and the priest the night before,as to who should be the one armed follower to accompany his father,and he had chosen the priest. "Fazil was too young yet," he said, "toenter into grave political discussions with wily Mahrattas, and wouldbe better with the escort." So the soldier-priest, like the Khan,discarding the steel cap, gauntlets, and quilted armour in which heusually accoutred himself--appeared, like Afzool Khan, in the plainmuslin dress of his order; and having tied up his waist with a shawl,and thrown another over his shoulders, stuck a light court sword intohis waist-band, which he pressed down on his hips with a jaunty air,and called merrily to Fazil, to see how peacefully he was attired.
The escort awaited them in the camp, and the spirited horses of fifteenhundred gallant cavaliers were neighing and tossing their heads asAfzool Khan, Fazil, and the priest rode up. "Forward!" cried the Khancheerily; and as the kettle-drums beat a march, the several officerssaluted their commander, and, wheeling up their men, led them bythe road pointed out by the Brahmuns and guides in the direction ofPertabgurh.
At that time, single men, who looked like shepherds tending sheep, andwho were standing on crests of the hills, or crouching so as not tobe seen, passed a signal that the Khan and his party had set out. Itwas still early, and the time when, of all others perhaps, armies suchas the Khan's, were most defenceless. Many, roused for a while by theassembly and departure of the escort, had gone to sleep again; others,sitting over embers of fires, were smoking, preparing to cook theirmorning repast, or were attending to their horses, or in the bazarpurchasing the materials for their day's meal. The camp was watchedfrom the woods around by thousands of armed men, who, silently andutterly unobserved, crept over the crests of the hills, and lay down inthe thick brushwood which fringed the plain.
As the Khan's retinue neared the fort, parties of armed men, apparentlystationed by the roadside to salute him as he passed, closed up in rearof the escort; and others, moving parallel to them in the thickets,joined with them unseen. Quickly, too, men with axes felled largetrees, which were thrown down so as to cross the road, and interlacedtheir branches so as to be utterly impassable for horsemen; and allthese preparations went on in both places silently, methodically, andwith a grim surety of success, imparting a confidence which all whoremembered it afterwards attributed to the direction of the goddesswhom they worshipped. As it was said then, as it is still said, andsung in many a ballad, "not a man's hand failed, not a foot stumbled."
At the gate of the fort the Khan dismounted from his horse, and enteredhis palankeen. Before he did so, however, he embraced his son, and bidhim be careful of the men, and that no one entered the town or gaveoffence. He could see, looking up, the thatched pavilion on the littlelevel shoulder of the mountain, and pointed to it cheerfully. "It isnot far to go, Huzrut," he said to the Peer, "I may as well walk withthese good friends," and he pointed to the Brahmuns who attended him.But Fazil would not allow it, nor the Peer either. "You must go instate," they said, "as the representative of the King ought to do," andhe then took his seat in the litter.
"Khoda Hafiz--may God protect you, father!" said Fazil, as he benthis head into the palankeen, when the bearers took it up; "come backhappily, and do not delay!"
"Inshalla!" said the Khan smilingly, "fear not, I will not delay,and thou canst watch me up yonder." So he went on, the priest's handleaning upon the edge of the litter as he walked by its side.
On through the town, from the terraced houses of which, crowds of womenlooked down on the little procession, and men, mostly unarmed, orunremarkable in any case, saluted them, or regarded them with clownishcuriosity. No one could see that the court of every house behind, wasfilled with armed men thirsting for blood, and awaiting the signal toattack.
The Khan's agent, Puntojee Gopinath, being a fat man, had left word atthe gate which defended the entrance of the road to the fort, that hehad preceded the Khan, and would await him at the pavilion. He had seenno one since the night before, and he knew only that the Khan wouldcome to meet the Rajah. That was all he had stipulated for, and hispart was performed. He believed that Sivaji would seize Afzool Khan,and hold him a hostage for the fulfilment of all his demands; and theline of argument in his own mind was, that if the Khan resisted, andwas hurt in the fray which might ensue, it was no concern of his. Buthe did not know the Rajah's intention, nor did the Rajah's two Brahmunswho had ascended with him; and they all three now sat down togetherupon the knoll, waiting the coming of Afzool Khan from below, and theRajah from above.
As the agreement had specified, except one each, there were to be noarmed men: no other people were present but one, who seemed to be alabourer, who was tying up a rough mat to the side of the pavilionto keep out the wind and sun. Gopinath looked from time to time upthe mountain-road, and again down to the town, speculating upon thecause of delay in the Rajah's coming; and the others told him he wouldnot leave the fort till the Khan had arrived below, and showed him afigure standing upon the edge of the large bastion which overhung theprecipice above, relieved sharply against the clear sky, which wasfronting towards the quarter by which the Khan's retinue should come,and apparently giving signals to others behind him.
"Your master is coming," said the Secretary, "they see him fromabove;" and, almost as he spoke, the bright glinting of steel caps andlance-heads, with a confused mass of horsemen, appeared on the road tothe fort, among the trees, and they sat and watched them come on. Thenthe force halted in the open space before the outer gate, where theKhan's little procession formed, and entered the town. After that, thehouses and the trees of the mountain-side concealed them. How beautifulwas the scene!
The wind had died away, and the sun shone with a blaze of heat unknownelsewhere, striking down among those moist narrow valleys with a powerwhich would have been painful, but for the cool refreshing air by whichit was tempered. The distant mountains glowed under the effect of thetrembling exhalations, which, rising now unseen, tempered the coloursof the distance to that tender b
lue and grey which melts into thetint of the sky. The rugged precipices above were softened in effect;and the heavy masses of foliage, festoons of creepers, and the densewoods, rich in colour, combined to enhance the wonderful beauty ofthe spot. There was perfect silence, except the occasional monotonousdrumming notes of woodpeckers in the glens, and the shrill chirrup oftree-crickets which occasionally broke out and was again silent.
In a few minutes, the shouts of the Khan's palankeen-bearers were heardbelow, and the litter suddenly emerged from a turn in the road, beingpushed on by the combined efforts of the men. The Brahmun's heartbounded when he saw the figure of the priest beside the litter, holdingto it, and pressing up the ascent vigorously. "Will he escape?" he saidmentally; "the Mother forbid it,--let her take him!" A few more steps,and the palankeen was at the knoll; it was set down, and the Khan'sshoes being placed for him by a bearer, he put his feet into them andgot out, speaking to the priest, who was panting with his exertion.
"Is he not here, Puntojee?" cried the Khan to the Brahmun, who salutedhim respectfully.
"No, my lord, not yet. Ah! look," he continued, as he turned towardsthe pass, "there are two men on the path, and that one, the smallest,is he."
The men coming down appeared to hesitate, and waved their hands, as ifwarning off some one.
"It is the bearers," said one of Sivaji's Secretaries. "The Rajah istimid, and fears the crowd he sees."
The Khan laughed. "Good," he said to the men. "Go away; sit down yonderin the shade. You will be called when I want you;" and as they gotup and retired, the two men advanced slowly and cautiously down thepathway.
Afzool Khan went forward a few paces as Sivaji and Maloosray came up."You are welcome, Rajah Sahib. Embrace me," he said to Sivaji. "Letthere be no doubt between us;" and he stretched forth his arms in theusual manner.
Sivaji stooped to the embrace; and as the Khan's arms were laid uponhis shoulders, and he was thus unprotected, struck the sharp deadlytiger's-claw dagger deeply into his bowels, seconding the blow with onefrom the other dagger which he had concealed in his left hand.
Afzool Khan reeled and staggered under the deadly wounds. "Dog of aKafir!" he cried, pressing one hand to the wound, while he drew thesword he wore with the other, and endeavoured to attack the Rajah.Alas! what use now were those feeble blows against concealed armour?Faint and sick, the Khan reeled hither and thither, striking vainlyagainst the Rajah, who, with the terrible sword now in his hand, andcrying the national shout of "Hur, Hur, Mahadeo!" rained blow upon blowon his defenceless enemy. It was an unequal strife, soon finished.Falling heavily, Afzool Khan died almost as he reached the earth.
Meanwhile, Maloosray had attacked the priest with all his force andskill, but the Peer was a good swordsman, and for a short time held hisground. Neither spoke, except in muttered curses, as blows were struck;but Tannajee Maloosray had no equal in his weapon, and as he cried tothe Rajah, who was advancing to his aid, to keep back--the priest,distracted by the assault of another enemy, received his death-blow,and sank to the ground.
"Jey Kalee!" shouted both. "Now, blow loud and shrill, Gunnoo, for thylife," continued the Rajah, "and thou shalt have a collar of gold."
The man who had appeared to be a labourer, seized his horn, whichhad been concealed in the grass, and blew a long note, with a shrillquivering flourish at the close, which resounded through the air, andechoed among the mountains; and thrice repeated the signal.
Then a great puff of smoke, followed by a report which thunderedthrough the valley, burst from the bastion above. Those who werelooking from the fort, and the Rajah himself, who ran to the edge ofthe knoll, saw the wreaths of fire which burst from the thickets aboutthe plain where the Mahomedan cavalry stood, and a sharp irregularcrash of matchlock shots came up from below, and continued. Hundredsdied at every volley, and there were writhing, struggling massesof horses and men on the plain--loose horses careering about; andsome men still mounted, strove to pierce the barriers which had beenmade on every side, crowded on each other, and, falling fast, becameinextricable. Soon, too, the Mawullees, under Nettajee Palkur, emergedsword in hand from their ambush, and attacked those who survived. Someescaped; but of the fifteen hundred men who had ridden there in theirpride that morning, few lived to tell the tale.
* * * * *
Moro Trimmul had taken up his position over night on a hill overlookingthe main camp of Afzool Khan's army. A few boughs placed togetherformed a cover and screen on a high knoll, which commanded a view ofthe camp beneath, and of the summit of the fort whence his signal wasto come. He sat there watching, and observed the force below, careless,without a guard, without weapons--the men sitting idly, wanderingabout, or cooking, as it might be. Every moment seemed interminable;and the eyes of those who looked with him were strained towards thefort.
"One," he cried at last, as the first puff of bright smoke burst fromthe bastion--"two--three--four--five! Enough. It is complete, myfriends. Now, cry 'Hur, Hur, Mahadeo!' and upon them. Spare no one!Come, friends, let us sack the Khan's tents first, where I have somework of my own to do."
"Beware," said an elderly officer, who stood near him--"beware, MoroPundit, of the master, if thou disobey him in this. He will suffer noinsult to the women."
"Tooh!" cried Moro Trimmul, spitting contemptuously, "I am a Brahmun,and he dare not interfere with me. Come!"
Ten thousand throats were crying the battle-cry of the Hetkurees, asthey burst from the thickets upon the bewildered army. Why follow them?In a few hours there was a smell of blood ascending to the sky, andvultures--scenting it from their resting-places on the precipices ofthe mountains, and from their soaring stations in the clouds--were fastdescending upon the plain in hideous flocks.
Shortly after the Khan had left--he could scarcely have reached thefort--two figures, a man and a boy, ran rapidly across the camp attheir utmost speed towards the Khan's tents--they were the hunchbackand Ashruf. When Fazil had dismissed them, the night before, theyhad taken the road to Wye; and immediately beyond the confines ofthe camp, where the road ascended a rocky pass, had been seized bythe Mahratta pickets posted there. In vain they urged they were butDekhan ballad-singers; they were not released. "Ye shall sing for usto-morrow," they said, "when we have made the sacrifice, the ballads ofthe goddess at Tooljapoor;" and, bound together, they lay by the treewhere the party of men was stationed. There they heard all, but werehelpless.
"Ah, masters," said Lukshmun, as daylight broke, "unbind us; we arestiff with the cold; we will not run away; and I will sing you themorning hymn of the goddess, as the Brahmuns sing it at Tooljapoor.See, my arms are swelled, and the boy's too."
"Loose him, brother," said one of the men, "we shall soon now have thesignal. Wait you here," he added, as Lukshmun finished the chant, "andwe will fill your pouches with Beejapoor rupees when we come back."
"Alas!" said the hunchback, with a rueful face, "this little brothercame from Wye last night, to say my elder brother, Rama, was dead. Goodsirs, let me go and bury him," and he began to sob bitterly.
"Let them go, Nowla," said another of the men; "they will be only inour way; we can't stop to guard them."
"My blessings on ye, gentlemen! Only let us go now, and we will cometo you and sing congratulations when you have won the victory," saidLukshmun humbly.
"Go," said the men, "but do not return to camp, else we will slay youif we see you there."
"They will die, or worse," said the hunchback, whispering to Ashruf,"for Moro Trimmul is the leader here. Come, let us save the Khan's wifeand the lady Zyna," and they turned into the jungle in the direction ofthe camp.
The boy was bold and quick-witted. As they ran on, "I can get into thezenana," he said, "under the tent wall, and perhaps we can make themchange clothes, and fly--but if they stay?"
"I will get the ponies ready," replied the other, and they ran thefaster over the plain, unperceived.
They reached the tents, and the boy entered as he said. Who wouldbelieve t
hem? Zyna heard the tale with sickening dread, and Lurlee,assured by the others, at first disbelieved him, and threatened himwith stripes. The women-servants crowded around, and some began toshriek, and were with difficulty pacified; others mocked him and turnedaway. Still the boy urged: and the hunchback, desperate, and dreadingthe delay, now found his way into the enclosure, and prostrated himselfbefore them.
"I know the country," he said: "fly! take what jewels you can carry,and come. God be with them, lady!" he continued, as Zyna and Lurleecried aloud for their husband and brother--"God be with them! they aremounted and will escape, and we may yet meet; but stay not here, elseye will die, or be dishonoured, and the Khan will kill me."
Then another voice was heard without, shouting. It was Shere Khan, whohad been left in charge of the private camp. "Go!" he cried, "I see menmoving in the woods, and there is confusion and treachery." And otherssaid the same. Then, too, they heard the five guns of the fort, andthere broke from the mountains around a hoarse roar of voices, "Hur,Hur, Mahadeo!"
This decided them. A hurried change of clothes, some coarse garmentsthrown over them, and the ponies being led within the enclosure, theladies were lifted on them and carried out. O, to see the stupid miseryof those women! Hitherto secluded, they could understand nothing;they had no power to resist; and why they should be taken out amongmen, when the shouts and screams of the camp were growing wilderevery moment, they could not understand. So they wrung their hands inspeechless terror.
"Come with the ladies, Shere Khan," cried Lukshmun; "come, savethyself, old man!"
"No," he replied sadly; "my time is come, and the sherbet of death willbe sweet. Go thou, and all of ye who can," he added to those who hadgathered with the women. "Quick! quick! else it will be too late."
The shouts of "Hur, Hur, Mahadeo!" were already mingling on theconfines of the camp with the battle-cries of the Moslems, who hadrallied in small parties, and the flood of attack was there stayedfor a little: this saved the fugitives. Close by the enclosure oftent walls ran the rivulet, and its banks were high and covered withbrushwood on the sides, which concealed the party. Lukshmun, with atrue freebooter's instinct, led Zyna's pony down the bank, accompaniedby some of the terrified women-servants, and Lurlee followed. Sothey proceeded at a rapid pace down the stream, meeting no one, andconcealed from view.
They heard the hideous din of shouts, screams, and shots increasebehind them, but it gradually softened with distance, and in a littletime Lukshmun turned up the sandy bed of a tributary brook, on thesides of which the jungle was thicker, while the bed was narrower andmore tortuous; and, bidding every one tread only in the shallow streamwhich flowed in the midst, in order to afford no traces of footsteps,he hurried on, still leading Zyna's pony by the bridle. "Fear not,lady," he said confidently,--"the worst is past, and God will bemerciful; fear not."
In the camp there was but a short resistance. On the one hand, thedesperate valour of the mountain soldiery, the certainty of plunder,revenge for Tooljapoor, and the example of Moro Trimmul and otherleaders; and on the other, the helpless, disorganized, bewildered massbefore them, rendered the assault irresistible. The first attackingbodies were succeeded by mass upon mass of fresh assailants from allquarters, and these successive tides of men surged resistlessly acrossthe camp, overwhelming all.
When Moro Trimmul and his party reached the Khan's tents, they foundno one. The tracks of the ponies, where they had descended the bank,were, however, visible, and were taken up by his followers, who dashedforward like bloodhounds on a scent. "Away after them, Kakrey!" criedthe Brahmun to a subordinate officer. "Thou art a better tracker thanI. Bring them to me,--then," he added to himself, "Fazil Khan, we willsee who wins the game,--you or I."
Tara: A Mahratta Tale Page 80
