Three years, as I have before told you, Sahib, passed in inactivity. My father and myself were in high favour, at least so we thought, with the rajah, who protected us and bestowed flattering marks of kindness upon us. Our revenue business was increased, we had now the management of a large tract of country, and I believe we gave satisfaction to the people as well as to their prince. The revenue was never in arrears; and many persons from distant parts of the country, hearing of our mild and equitable mode of government, came and settled with us in our villages. Our perquisites as revenue collectors yielded a handsome income, and we lived happy and tranquilly. Still a restless spirit was within me; I heard of the successes of various bands of Thugs in different directions: men came and boasted of their exploits, and again I longed to be at the head of my gallant fellows, and to roam awhile striking terror into the country.
'Tis true I had gained the highest rank I could; I possessed fame; not a Jemadar or Soobehdar of Thugs could compare his actions with mine; but I vainly thought that there was more to be gained, and that I had only to propose an expedition, to be joined by a larger number of Thugs than had collected together for many years. In this I was not disappointed, as you shall hear.
I have before mentioned to you the name of Ganesha Jemadar, he was always with us when not on the road, envying our quiet and respectable modeof life, which he could not attain by any means, though he left none untried. He bribed all the rajah's court, nay the rajah himself, to procure employment; but there was something so harsh and forbidding in his aspect, and so uncouth were his manners, that he did not succeed in what he so much longed for.
He came in despair to us, and after rating in no measured terms the conduct of the rajah and his officers, said that he was determined again to take to the road, for there alone he found occupation and amusement. He pressed me to accompany and join him, pictured in strong terms the booty we should gain and the glory we should win; and after many demurs and objections on my part, I finally agreed. Notice was given out to all the Thugs of that part of the country, that an expedition of great magnitude would be undertaken after the ensuing Dussera.
Accustomed as Azima had become to my temporary absences, after the period of quiet I had passed with her, she now did not oppose my leaving her, as she had done before. She thought it was some mercantile speculation which led me from home, and, as you may believe, I did not undeceive her. Rejoiced at the prospect of again serving under me, all my own band, and many more, flocked to the place of rendezvous, which was at some distance from Jhalone. Ganesha had upwards of a hundred followers; and, finally, on the day of the Dussera, the usual ceremonies were concluded in the presence of upwards of three hundred Thugs, than whom a finer or more experienced band were never gathered under any leader. I was justly proud of my charge; and my father, who had accompanied me to the rendezvous, felt all his former fire kindle within him. I pressed him to accompany us, and the old man consented.
Some were for trying a new line of road, and for penetrating into Guzerat through Rajpootana. This question was fairly discussed in a general assembly, and opinions being much balanced between that route and our old one by Saugor and Jubbulpoor to Nagpoor, the matter was referred to the decision of the omens. They were consulted as I have before described; and as they decidedly pointed to the south, no further doubt could be entertained upon the subject, and again we moved on in our old direction, to us familiar, for there was not a man among us who did not know every step of the road, and the best places for the destruction of any persons whom chance might throw in our way.
We had proceeded nearly as far as Saugor, with but indifferent success, considering our large body, having only killed fourteen travellers, and got but little booty; when one night, as my father and myself, with a few others, sat in our little tent, we heard theekarea—that most dreadful of all omens to a Thug. The ekarea is the short sharp bark or call of the jackal, uttered in the first watch of the night: in itself there is something peculiarly melancholy and appalling, but to a Thug the sound is one of horror. In an instant all conversation was at an end, and we gazed on each other in consternation and alarm. No one spoke, we all listened intently; it might be repeated, which would be worse than ever. It was; the sharp short bark was again heard, and there was but little time for deliberation: all started to their feet.
"We must return instantly," said my father. "Bhowanee is unpropitious, or danger threatens; at any rate to go on is impossible, for mark you not that the sound came from the very direction of to-morrow's march?"
All agreed that it did, and were unanimous in their desire to return. Still I could not divine why the bark of a jackal should change the determination of three hundred men, and I ventured to say that I was sure it was some mistake, and that, even if it were not, we ought to proceed, since the omens had been so propitious at the commencement. "Why!" said I to my father, "were they not so? Have we not worshipped the pickaxe every seventh day according to the law? Have we not performed all the necessary ceremonies on the death of every traveller?"
"That is all true," said my father; "but it is madness to think of proceeding. Foolish boy! you have never known a reverse, thanks to your good fortune, and the excellent advice by which you have been guided; but beware how you disregard omens—it will one day lead you to destruction. As to this matter, the designs of Bhowanee are inscrutable, and she must be obeyed!"
Other Thugs too had heard the ekarea, and many came in a clamorous body to the tent, begging either to be allowed to disperse, or to be led back to Jhalone. Any words of mine would have been useless, for the whole band seemed infected by superstitious fear; I therefore held my peace. Our encampment was broken up instantly, and, late as it was, we that night retrograded a few coss on the road by which we had come; no fresh omen of favour was vouchsafed to us, and we retraced our steps to Jhalone, disappointed, wearied and dispirited.
A month passed in idleness; but having formed my determination again to take to the road, I was not to be put off, and again I assembled my men and sought for omens. They were favourable, and I heartily prayed to Bhowanee that they might not deceive us again into a fruitless expedition. They pointed too to a different direction, that of the west, and we knew that between Bombay and Indoor, and indeed through all parts of Malwa, large treasures were constantly passing. We had before, as you have heard, reaped the largest booty I had ever got in that quarter, and I hoped to secure a like one again. We accordingly left our home,—one hundred and twenty Thugs under myself and Peer Khan, who still stuck to me. Ganesha had gone off in a different direction—whither I knew not; his presence was always hateful to me; why, I could not tell, and I could but ill disguise the feelings I entertained towards him.
It was too long an expedition for my father to undertake, and accordingly he stayed at our village. We met with no adventures worth recording, Sahib, on our road to Bombay, for thither we were determined to proceed in quest of plunder; besides, I had heard much of its importance, and I felt a curiosity to behold the sea and the ships of the Feringhees, which came over trackless waters from their far country. But when I say that we met with no particular adventures, or any worth recording, you must not think that we were idle. Thirty-one travellers died by our hands; several escaped us, the omens being against their destruction; and, finally, we reached Bombay, with about four thousand rupees worth of plunder—enough to enable us to live respectably. In Bombay we put up in the large bazar which is without the fort; and although, from the danger of detection, we could not keep together, yet a constant communication was kept up among us, and every man held himself in readiness to start in any direction on a moment's warning. I had appointed too a rendezvous, the town of Tannah, which being close to the continent is a place where travellers congregate in large numbers previous to passing over.
I saw the sea! Day after day I went down to its edge, and gazed on its magnificence. I used to lie on the grass of the plain before the fort, and pass hours of a sort of dreamy ecstasy, looking on its varying aspect,—like that of a beautiful woman, now all smiles, and again agitated by the passions of love,—or listening to its monotonous and sullen roar, as wave after wave bowed its crest, and broke into sparkling foam on the white sand.
I was lying thus one day, about the seventh after our arrival, meditating on our inactive life, and had almost determined to depart the next day, when a respectable-looking man came up to me. "Salam Aliekoom!" said he; "you are evidently a stranger, for your dress and carriage bespeak you to be an inhabitant of Hindostan. I have watched you for two days coming to this spot and gazing on the sea; have you never seen it before?"
"Never," replied I; "my home is, as you say, far inland, and in Hindostan; you have thus guessed rightly: and to me, a stranger, can it be otherwise than that I should be struck with a sight so novel and so overpowering as this expanse of water is, which seems to melt into the sky?"
"The tones of your voice are music in my ears," said the stranger; "I have heard many from my country (for that is also Hindostan), but never any which reminded me so strongly of my own home as yours. May I ask your village?"
"I lived formerly in Murnae, in the Sindousé Pergunna," said I, "but now reside in Jhalone."
"Murnae!" cried the man in astonishment; but he lowered his voice as he said, "Ah, I remember now; 'tis on the borders of Sindia's country, and belongs to him."
"Not now," said I; "the Feringhees have had it ceded to them, and they possess it."
"But," said the man, changing the topic, "you love to look on the sea; have you ever been on its surface? have you visited the ships you may have seen moored before the town?"
"I have not," replied I; "I several times determined to go, but my heart failed me when I saw the frail boat which should take me. Besides, I am a stranger; no one would have admitted me, were I to have gone to them."
"Will you accompany me?" said the man. "I have an idle day before me, and shall be glad to pass it in your company."
I gladly assented, and we took our way to a stone pier which ran into the sea on the outside of the fort. I could not divine with whom I had thus scraped an acquaintance; all the Peons on the Bunder (for so the pier was called) paid the greatest respect to my new friend; all made low obeisances to him, and a scramble ensued among the owners of the small boats which were tied to the landing-place, for the honour of conveying us to the shipping.
He selected one, however, and pushing off, we were on the bosom of the ocean. I confess I was afraid: though Jhalone was not far from the Jumna, I had never seen that river, nor had I ever seen a boat before my arrival at Bombay. Now each succeeding wave, as we descended from the top of the last one, appeared as though it would roll over us; but the men were fearless and experienced, and after a few qualms I was reconciled to our situation. We rowed, for the wind was against us, close round several of the ships which lay at anchor; and at last ascended, with the permission of a Feringhee officer who was on board, the side of an immense ship, which my friend told me was one of war, and belonged to the king of England. After looking over the upper part, a small gratuity of two rupees to a sailor enabled us to proceed below to see the guns. I was astonished at their size, and at the exactness with which everything was fitted; the ropes even were twisted down into coils, like huge snakes sleeping, and the whole was a picture of neatness and cleanliness which I little expected to have seen. But these matters, Sahib, are doubtless familiar to you, so I will pass them over. We returned to the shore with a fair wind, and as the boatmen spread a small sail, we danced merrily along over the swelling waters.
I was about to separate from my companion, and again protested my sense of his kindness, when he stopped me. "No, Meer Sahib," said he, "I must have further converse with you. I am much mistaken if you are not what I was once, and am still whenever I can seize an opportunity."
I stared at him. Could he be a Thug? If he was not, he would not understand our words of recognition; if he was, I should be right. I did not hesitate. "Ali Khan Bhaee Salam!" said I, gazing intently at him.
"Salam Aliekoom!" cried he. It was enough—he also was a Thug.
"Those words I have not heard for many a year," said he; "they remind me of my early days, and the goor of the Tupounee."
"Then you have eaten it?" said I.
"I have," replied the man.
"Enough," cried I; "I have met with a friend; but who you are I am as yet ignorant."
"Have you not ever heard of Soobhan Khan Jemadar?" he asked. "You say you came from Murnae: surely I must be remembered there?"
"I have," answered I; "those who knew you have believed you dead. How is it that you are here, and a person of authority?"
"I will tell you hereafter of my situation, but at present I have many questions to ask of you—and first, is my good friend Ismail Jemadar alive?"
"My father!" said I, "surely he is; the good old man has attained a fine age, and is well."
"Shookur Khoda!" cried he; "but you said he was your father; surely he had no children—he was not even married when I left."
"Ah," said I, "so it might have been then, but here am I to speak for myself."
"And Hoosein, his and my friend, does he too live?"
"Alas, no! he died two years ago, full of age and honour." (I havenot mentioned this event to you, Sahib, but it had taken place soon after I returned from my Pindharee expedition.)
He continued to ask after many of his old friends, and at last inquired how many men I had with me. I told him, and he was somewhat astonished at their number.
"Well," said he, "you are here, and it will be hard if I cannot find some work for you. I have told you I am a Thug, and have been so from my youth: my father and ancestors were Thugs before me. But, many years ago, I came here as the servant to a Sahoukar of Indoor. I liked the place, and not long after got employment as a government Peon, in the service of the English. They have been kind and generous masters to me; I have served them well, and have risen by degrees to the rank I now hold, which is that of Jemadar. Why I left my station as a Jemadar of Thugs is perhaps unknown to you?"
I replied that I did not know.
"It was in consequence of a foolish quarrel with your father," said he. "We were on an expedition, and I thought he assumed too much; we were both young men, of fiery blood,—we had a sharp altercation, and both drew our swords: he was my superior, and I feared that he would condemn me to death. I fled, entered the service of the Sahoukar as one of his escort from Indoor, and you see what I am. Yet I have never forsaken the Thugs whenever I have met with them. I am too old to seek adventures myself, but I put the young and active in the way of them, and thus have kept up my connexion with them; not, it is true, with those of Hindostan, for a feeling of shame has hitherto prevented my doing so; but since Bhowanee has thrown you in my way, you shall not regret it. My acquaintance has been with the Thugs of the Dukhun, and I have headed one or two expeditions towards Poona, when I could get leave of absence for a while from my duties. But when I could not do this, I have secured bands of travellers for my associates, and they have been successful. I have too, by the share of the booty I was entitled to, been able to purchase the goodwill of those who could befriend me; and your servant Soobhan Khan enjoys a high character among the Sahib-logue for honesty and fidelity."
"I do not doubt it," said I; "your appearance insures respect; your manners are courtly: and how could it be otherwise?"
Thus conversing, we reached his house; it was not far from where I was residing; and, as he told me afterwards, he had discovered who we were, and had followed me from place to place, until he got an opportunity of speaking with me unobserved. From this time, as you may believe, Sahib, we were sworn friends. I listened to his details of roguery (for rogue he was in his heart) with great interest, and I accompanied him several times to the durbar of the gentleman with whom his duties were connected. He was evidently a person well thought of, and as far as his office was concerned—that of keeping the peace, was zealous and active. Still there was something forbidding to me in the way he now followed his profession of a Thug; and as we became more intimately acquainted, he unfolded to me his plans and operations. I cannot tell you, Sahib, of their extent. He introduced me to the Jemadars of Dukhun Thugs who scoured the roads to Poona, to Nassuk, to Sholapoor, and Hyderabad; to others from Guzerat, who were engaged in that part of the country,—but all under his control, and from all of whom he exacted a high rate of tribute as the price of the information he was able to give them, as to the despatch of treasure in various directions by the sahoukars and merchants of Bombay.
I had remained with him a week, and our stock of money was sensibly diminishing. What was to be done? He had promised assistance in giving me information of the despatch of treasure in our direction, and I had hitherto waited in expectation that he would fulfil his promise. I was tired too of Bombay; the season was advancing, and I hardly thought we should reach Jhalone before the setting in of the rains. I therefore went to him, and frankly told him our money was running short, and that in a place like Bombay, where my men were exposed to so many temptations, they could not be expected to keep what they had; I was therefore anxious to depart, and, if he could give me nohope of any speedy booty, that I should set off in two days, and take my chance on the road.
"My plans are not quite matured in your direction," said he. "I have heard that one of the greatest traders to Indoor and Malwa is about to send not less than two lakhs of rupees thither. I know that the Rokurreas are hired; but as yet I cannot say whether they carry hoondees or money. Three days ought to determine this, and in the mean time, as you want money, a thousand rupees are at your service, which you can repay me, with interest at three per cent. per month, on your arrival at Jhalone. I will trust to your good faith as the son of my old friend."
"I am obliged to you," replied I; "but the money is not quite so necessary as I said. I believe every man has some twenty or thirty rupees in his possession; but it was to prevent their spending this that I spoke to you as I did. Only say that within a week we may start, and my men will be careful."
"Certainly," said he, "before a week's time; come to me to-morrow evening after prayer-time, and you shall have further news about your bunij."
The interest-eating rascal! said I, as I left him. He a true believer! Strange I have never heard of him from my father; but I will ask him about the fellow on my return home, and doubt not I shall hear some evil or rascality of him. Not a rupee of his money will I touch, the kafir! A Thug to take interest from a Thug—who ever heard of it? I dare say he is as bad as the villanous Bhutteara we killed at Saugor. Nor was I wrong, Sahib. I became intimate with a Dukhun Jemadar who was waiting for bunij, who told me that he ground the Thugs unmercifully, threatened to denounce them if they ever demurred, and got from them double the share he would have been entitled to had he shared the risk and the danger on the road.
"But," said the Jemadar, "there is no doing without him, much as he oppresses us; he throws the most valuable booty into our hands, which we never could get scent of by ourselves; he has a number of Thugs who are his servants, and whom he pays liberally to get him information; he possesses the confidence of the sahoukars, as he assists them to smuggle; they pay him too for a kind word now and then with the Sahib-logue. In fine, he is paid both by them and us, and he contrives to sell all our valuable plunder."
"Then his receipts must be enormous," said I.
"They are," said the Jemadar, "and we all grudge them to him; but still he protects us, and we could not do without him."
"Has he ever been treacherous?" I asked; for, by Alla! I was inclined to mistrust the rascal.
"There are some stories of the kind," he replied, "but in the main he is to be trusted. Still, as I said, if he were not, we could do nothing without him; he knows every Jemadar of the Dukhun, and could if he chose blow up the whole system to-morrow; but it does not suit his interest to do so, and we are all his slaves."
"Long may ye continue to be so!" cried I to Peer Khan when he had left me; "but as for us, brother, 'tis the last time he will catch us here. What say you?"
"Certainly," said Peer Khan; "these fellows are never to be trusted; they exist everywhere, in all shapes: they are zemindars and potails of villages; they are Fakeers and bhuttearas; they are goosaens, sahoukars, servants, and mutsuddees; nay, the Rajah of Jhalone is one himself. They are an evil 'tis true, but we could not do without them."
"I have done so as yet," said I, "and, by Alla! I will never trust one of them."
"May you never have occasion, Meer Sahib." And the conversation dropped.
I went as I had promised, and found Soobhan Khan in high glee. "I have secured the bunij," said he. "Are you ready?"
"I am. What are your orders?"
"Listen," he replied. "I was right in saying the sum was two lakhs. Contrary to my expectations, the sum is in gold and silver and jewels; there are about ten thousand rupees in hoondees (bills), but that is all. Now before I tell you more, we must make our bargain."
"Speak," cried I; "I am ready to give anything in reason."
"Ay, you are my old friend's son, so I must not treat you as I do the others I associate with," said he; "from them I get a third of the whole, but from you I ask only a fifth. A fifth will be twenty thousand rupees. Will you give it?"
"With pleasure," said I. "You may trust to my word; directly I get the money, and reach Jhalone, I will purchase a hoondee on Bombay, and send it you."
"Capital!" cried he; "you are a man I like to deal with: no unnecessary talk, no haggling like a bunnea, but you speak like a soldier as you are. Now give me a promise under your seal that I shall have the money, and I will detail the plan to you. The paper is a mere matter of form, and I am methodical."
I objected to this, and his brow darkened; I saw it, and instantly altered what I had expressed: "Get me writing materials, and I will write it out."
"What! you write? a Thug write? But never mind, since you are able to do it, so much the better: there will be no need of a third person."
I wrote the paper, and handed it to him, having sealed it with my seal: he folded it carefully up, and tucked it into a fold of his turban. "Now we are all right, Meer Sahib. This treasure goes under the escort of fifteen Rokurreas; they have three camels, and will be disguised as soldiers, going from Poona to Indoor. They left this place yesterday, with part of the treasure; the rest is at Poona: from Poona they will go to Nassuk, where you will fall in with them: trust me, my information is correct to the minutest particular. I know the sahoukars who send it; I have spoken with the Rokurreas; and to ensure your being unsuspected by them, here is a pass written in Persian and Mahratta, signed and sealed by the English officers of customs here. It represents you as persons who have come from Benares in charge of goods for a sahoukar by name Hurree-das, and directs that no one shall molest you on your return. The men who brought the goods are still here, and likely to remain till the end of the rains. Their leader's name is Futih Mahomed, so Futih Mahomed you must be if you please; he, too, is about your own age and appearance, and thus you will be better able to personate him. You see I have laid a good plan, and I leave all the rest to your own judgment. Make the best of your way to Nassuk; wait there four days, and on the fifth you will see your bunij, if you keep a proper look out. Now go, make your preparations, and may Bhowanee send you success. Remember Soobhan Khan, and return as speedily as you like; I have no doubt I shall have found fresh work for you."
"You may depend on me, Khan Sahib," said I; "I will not be long away from you. Your plan is an admirable one; and, Inshalla! your twenty thousand rupees are as safe to you as though you even now had them in your possession."
"Remember me with many kind words to your father, Ameer Ali," continued he; "would he come thus far to see an old friend, and forgive him for the past?"
"Of that I have but little hope," said I; "he is old and infirm, and never leaves his village: but he shall write to you."
"Enough, enough," said the Khan; "I have much to accuse myself of in the past; but 'tis a long time ago, and he has most likely forgotten my foolish conduct."
I left him, but made an inward determination to be guided entirely by my father's counsel as to whether one cowree of the twenty thousand rupees should be paid or not. "And," said Peer Khan afterwards, "twenty thousand rupees—the old villain!Heget it! Ah, Meer Sahib, we shall be the brothers of owls and jackasses if he ever sees one rupee!"
The next morning we were on our return to Jhalone, and we halted between Bombay and Tannah for the day. Our pass was of much use, for it was respected and obeyed; and, the day after, we passed Tannah and the different revenue guard-houses without interruption.
"Shookur Khoda!" cried Peer Khan, as he rushed into my presence on the fourth day after we had arrived at Nassuk; "Soobhan Khan was right—they are come!"
"Are you sure, Khan?"
"Certain," he replied; "the description we had of them tallies with what I have seen in every point. Come and see yourself; there are the camels and the men disguised. But I could have sworn, had I met them anywhere, that they were Rokurreas; they have the air and bearing of the tribe."
"Enough," said I, "youcannot be deceived. They do not know we are here, and we will do the same as we did at Boorhanpoor. Get the men ready; we will go round the town, travel a coss or two, and enter by the same gate they did: we will then put up in the bazar with them."
We were all shortly in motion, and, as I had planned, after going round the outside of the town, we entered it on the other side, and were soon in our new quarters in the bazar.
Travellers soon get acquainted. The shop I chose adjoined the one they occupied, and I had quickly scraped an acquaintance with the Jemadar of the Rokurreas.
Narrayun Das, for that was his name, was a tall and very powerful man; he had small twinkling eyes, and long straight eyebrows, which, by binding his turban tightly over his temples, he had drawn up in diagonal lines to either side, and this imparted to them a very peculiar expression: long mustachios, which were twisted out to each side, and thick bushy whiskers, and his whole appearance proved him to be an experienced Rokurrea, and one to whom deceit and stratagem were familiar. I shall have a cunning hand to deal with here, thought I, as I scanned his features; no common pretences will go down with him; but have him I must and will, ay, and his two lakhs too. Two lakhs! it is worth an effort were he Roostum himself. Yet he was not slow in forming an acquaintance with me. Our salutations passed in due form, and after we had all cooked our morning meal, and sat on our carpets, we soon entered into familiar conversation.
"A pretty business Bajee Rao has made of it," said he, as I had asked him the news from Poona. "The coward! had he but put himself at the head of his army when the fight took place at Kirkee, he might have annihilated the Feringhees."
"And do you wish that he had?" said I.
"Certainly; what do we know of them? While they confined themselves to the fort of Bombay, it was all very well,—and I remember the time when they had hardly a foot of ground beyond it; but now, little by little they have advanced, until they have upset the Mahratta empire, and are in a fair way to take it."
"But," said I, "Bajee Rao has a good army, all the country is his own, and surely he will do something. The Mahrattas are good soldiers, and he has leaders of renown with him."
"He will do nothing, Meer Sahib; he will run from place to place, and his army may fight if they can or will: he will never draw a sword. The cowardly wretch has not the soul of a flea."
"Well, Jemadar, to me it matters little; I have forsworn soldiering, and find that I can get a good livelihood by escorting treasure and goods. I am just come from Benares, and the sahoukar who employed me has sent for more, which I am to bring down to him."
"Ah!" cried he, "so you are in that line. Well, it is a good one if you have plenty of men, but a sorely troublesome and difficult one if you have few. I speak from experience, for I am in the same business myself. I have beenlucky, but my poor brother was otherwise; he fell by the hands of thieves between here and Indoor; we heard of him from Boorhanpoor, but beyond that we could get no tidings of him."
"Strange!" said I: "I never heard of thieves on the road, though my kafila would have been worth plundering. But now I am under the protection of the Sahib-logue, I care not; they will soon have all the country, and there will be no danger in another year."
"Under the protection of the Feringhees! how do you mean? I thought you said you served a sahoukar."
"So I do," I replied; "but to ensure my safe return, his friend Soobhan Khan got me this pass, which he said would be respected throughout the country;" and I pulled out the document, which I had carefully folded up in wax-cloth, and showed it to him.
"You are fortunate, Meer Sahib, and particularly in knowing Soobhan Khan, who is a worthy man and one deservedly respected; I have known him for many years; he has always been a good friend to me, and has got me employment when I most required it, by becoming security for me to a large amount. But you said that you had given up soldiering; in this you have been wise; far preferable is it to gain an honourable livelihood than be marched in all directions, with but little pay, and hard fighting for that. With whom have you served?"
"You must not tell any one," said I; "for every man who has served the man I have would desire it to be a secret, and perhaps the knowledge of my former life might be against my present interests. I served under Cheetoo Pindharee, and led three thousand of his best horse."
"Under Cheetoo!" cried the Jemadar; "this is most strange; and you are not joking?"
"I am not, I swear by your head; I dare say I could find some papers to convince you of the fact if you doubt it. But, as I said, I do not like to tell any one."
"You need not fear me," said he, "I am as close as a Rokurrea, and you know the saying is proverbial; but you must have seen strange adventures and strange lands, for they say he got nearly to Madras, and left the Feringhees' country a desert behind him."
"I shall be glad to tell you some of my adventures, Jemadar Sahib, and perhaps they may interest you, though it hardly befits a man to speak of his own deeds."
"Nay, there is nothing to be ashamed of, Meer Sahib; and as for being a Pindharee, the best in the land were with him; and a gallant army they were when the first Lubhur assembled at Nemawur."
"Then you were there?"
"I was. I brought some treasure from Indoor and Oojein to the sahoukars at Nemawur, and saw the whole of the preparations for the campaign; and Bhugwan knows I was so taken with the appearance of the whole, that could I have got a horse, I verily believe I should have turned Pindharee myself. They say every man filled his saddle with gold and pearls."
"We were lucky enough," said I, "especially in the first expedition. Had you come to Nemawur before the second had set out, you would have heard of me; I had a good name and a high rank. In the first I was nobody, and gained Cheetoo's favour solely because I was a better swordsman than any in his camp."
"Then I have heard of you," said the man; "but surely you cannot be that Syud Ameer Ali who was only second to Ghuffoor Khan?"
"I am the very person, and no other," I replied; "true, my rank is fallen, but whose has not? Cheetoo is dead; Ghuffoor Khan has disappeared, and is supposed to have gone to Hyderabad; Syud Bheekoo is God knows where; and Shekh Dulla still roams about the hills between Boorhanpoor and Ellichpoor, with a price set on his head. No one knew much of me, and I suspect, so long as I behave peacefully and follow my present calling, no one will ask after me. I had enough of being a Pindharee after the second foray, and got to my home at Jhalone as soon as I could. If the others had been wise, they would have sought their safety as I did."
"Yes," said the jemadar, "Cheetoo's was a sad fate—he deserved a better; but they say the Sahib-logue offered him a Jagheer,—is this true?"
"So I have heard," said I; "fool that he was, he would not accept it; but no wonder, his whole soul was bound up in his plans for driving out the Feringhees. He thought the Mahrattas would beat them; and when they had gained the first victory, he was to have joined them with fifteen thousand horse, and become a great commander. I should have followed him too, had they been successful; but they were not, nor ever will be; and I am what you see me."
"A strange history," said the man, "and you have told me more than I ever knew before. Had the Peshwa and the Rajah of Nagpoor played their parts as well as Cheetoo, all would have gone right; but it is useless to think of them, and I suppose we must make up our minds to our new masters. Now, however, you and I, Meer Sahib, must not separate. I am going to Indoor for some treasure, and your best way lies through it; I will keep with you, for your party is a large one, and, to tell you the truth, I don't like passing those jungles by the Sindwah Ghat with my own. The Bheels are taking advantage of the present disturbances to be all in arms. Bands of deserters from the Peshwa traverse the country in all directions, helping themselves to what they can; and they are not over scrupulous either. So we will keep together, if you like, for mutual protection."
"I shall be glad to do so," said I; "though I have nothing to lose, except two or three thousand rupees, and whoever comes to take them will get more blows than money."
"And I have still less," said he; "I have only enough to pay my expenses and feed my camels; but I am no great hand at fighting, and am not mounted as you are, to run from danger." But the heavily-laden pack-saddles belied his words. I was not to be deceived, and felt as sure that the coveted treasure was there as that the Rokurrea who guarded it was before me.
We shortly afterwards separated; and when I was alone with Peer Khan I told him what I had said, and how I had deceived the Rokurrea. A long and hearty laugh we had over it. "But I fear for you, Meer Sahib," said he. "Compare his power and your own slight frame. You must risk nothing now."
I laughed. "His power, Khan!" I said, "what is it to that of many who have fallen under my hand before now? Besides, he is the brother of the Rokurrea we killed beyond Boorhanpoor, and he must be mine at all hazards. I would not miss this adventure for thousands."
"I will tell you what," said Peer Khan, "it will never do to kill them so far from Indoor; let us get them as near to the city as possible, and we shall be the nearer our own home. This matter will cause a stir, and we had better not risk anything."
"Well, be it as you will. I had intended to have killed them near Boorhanpoor, and then to have turned off directly into the hills; we should never be followed."
"Ay, and risk Shekh Dulla and his party, who are out?" said Peer Khan; "that would never do. He would plunder us; and as he knows us, would most like serve us as Cheetoo did the poor fellows who were caught."
"Astaffur Alla!" cried I, shuddering. "God forbid! no, your plan is the best. We will entice them out of the towns before we have gone many marches, and then they are our own when and wherever we please."
I pass over our journey, Sahib; all journeys are alike devoid of interest, and only one routine of dusty roads, parching sun (for the Rokurreas would not travel by night), bad food, and discomfort of all kinds. We met with no adventure, except being robbed of trifling articles at different places; and we fully succeeded in persuading the Rokurreas to encamp with us, as we adhered to our old custom of preferring the outside of the villages to entering them, where, besides the additional fear of thieves, there was more dust, more dirt, more heat, and continual squabbles with the villagers. My men had behaved admirably. No one could have told, from the broad patois they spoke, that they were aught but what they represented themselves to be,—Benares-walas, and Bhojpoorees: they looked as stupid a set of owls as could well be collectedtogether; but they played their parts, to a man, with the extreme caution and cunning on which rested the success of our enterprise.
After all, Sahib, cannot you now understand the excitement which possesses the soul of a Thug in his pursuit of men? Cannot you feel with us, as you hear my story, and follow us in my recital? Here had we kept company with these Rokurreas for twenty days; we had become intimate; they told their adventures, we told ours; the evenings passed in singing or telling tales, until one by one we sunk down wearied upon our carpets. Cannot you appreciate the intense interest with which we watched their every movement, nay, every word which fell from them, and our terrible alarms, as sometimes our minds misgave us that we were suspected? Yet still we stuck to them through everything, they were never lost sight of for a moment, and, above all, their minds were kept happy.
As to their leader, he was delighted with me. My accounts of my adventures as a Pindharee, the plunder we had got, the towns we had burned and sacked, all were to him interesting, and day by day I told him of new exploits. He used to sit, and the rest of his men too, listening with unfeigned pleasure to the accounts which I and Peer Khan gave. Cunning as they were, at heart they were honest and simple, and they readily believed all we told them.
But their time had drawn near. Indoor was five marches further, and delay was now impracticable and useless; besides, to insure their safe arrival, I knew they had determined on going thirty coss in one march, and my men could not keep up with these hardy fellows. "Come what will," said I to Peer Khan, "they die to-morrow night."
The time came. We were sitting, as usual, under the same noble tamarind-trees; one by one we had sung our song or related our adventures; and who could have guessed, had he seen us thus engaged, that a work of death was to ensue? Every tongue was employed, and the hearty laugh which broke at times from one or other of the assembly, showed how light and merry were our hearts,—we, at the certainty of our success, the Rokurreas, at the thought that the peril of the road was past, and that their large amount of treasure would reach its destination in safety: there was not a grave face among us.
"There," cried the Jemadar of the Rokurreas, "there is the moon; when she has risen over the trees yonder, we will bid you farewell, kind Meer Sahib; we have been happy in your company, and free from alarms and danger. Bhugwan grant that we may hereafter journey in company, and as safely as we have done! Thanks to your care in protecting us outside the villages, we have not lost a cowree; and we have been taught a new mode of encamping, which we will follow in future. The moon will last us the whole night, and we shall have twenty coss of ground behind us by the time you wake from your night's sleep."
The Thugs had taken their places; to each Rokurrea were four stout men allotted, and I marvelled that they should have thus allowed themselves to be separated from each other. But they had not suspected; whocouldhave done so? The moon rose majestically above the distant trees; her full, round, and yellow orb cast a mellow light upon our group. The Rokurreas rose with one accord, and each turned to the men he was near to give them his parting benediction and salutation.
"Nay," said I, "we part not thus, Narrayun Das; let us separate as friends; receive my embrace; we are friends and brothers by profession." We embraced, and before the others could press forward to salute me, I gave the jhirnee: "Pan lao!" I exclaimed. It was enough. The Jemadar fell beneath my own handkerchief, and a few shrieks and groans told the rest—all had died.
"Haste ye, my good fellows," cried I to the Lughaees; "the same bright moon which was to have served these fellows shines brightly upon us; quick with your work, the camels are ready, and a few hours will see us safe from pursuit, though indeed none is to be apprehended from this small place."
The bodies were stripped; every fellow had a heavy humeana, besides what was laden on the camels. We stopped not to count our money, but hastened on when the interment was finished; and only tarrying for a few moments at the next village we came to, to purchase the goor for the Tupounee, we foundourselves in the morning nearly twenty coss from the scene of our last night's adventure.
We halted till the evening, and again pushed on, but by a different road; and leaving Indoor about fifteen coss to the right, we directed our course to a small village named Dehalpoor. From this, leaving Oojein also to the right, we hastened on, always travelling by night on account of the extreme heat of the weather, and by way of Buhadoorgurh and Aorcha, we reached Jhalone in safety. No alarm had we but one. The revenue officers on the frontier of Holkar's dominions insisted on knowing who we were, and what we had with us; and so strict were their inquiries, that, had it not been for the English pass I had with me, we must have been suspected and apprehended. But, thanks to Soobhan Khan, it was not questioned; as Futih Mahomed I passed free. A duty, or rather an exaction, of fifty rupees was levied on the treasure, and a fresh pass given to us, by which we escaped further questioning and detention. Who can describe my father's joy at seeing the treasure! the old man was in ecstasy: he kissed me, he embraced me, called me by every endearing name, and extolled my conduct in glowing terms to Ganesha, who happened to be with him. It was easy to see, however, that to that worthy they might well have been spared. Jealousy possessed him, which he could ill disguise, and I verily believe, had he dared, that he would have informed the Rajah of the treasure we had secured. In the memory of the oldest Thug, no such booty had ever been gained, and I was classed by the Thugs with Jhora Naeck and Kuduk Bunwaree, fabled votaries of Bhowanee, of whom stories were told which, though implicitly believed by most, nay all of our fraternity, I never credited. But it was enough for me. I had never met a reverse, and every Thug of Hindostan, I verily believe, only thought he must join me to secure to himself a booty which would support him for years.
I have forgotten, however, to mention to you an incident which befell us at Buhadoorgurh. We were encamped outside the town, and late in the evening we saw a body of men, whom we at first took to be Thugs, coming towards our camp.
"Who can they be?" said I to Peer Khan; "they look like Thugs, yet it is late for any party to be out."
"Some straggling party, I suppose," said he; "I will go and see."
"If they are Thugs and you know them," I added, "bring them, but say not a word of our booty."
"No, no, I am not such a fool," said he laughing; "but I will bring you the news."
He went, and returned with the leader of the party. I had purposely kept in my little tent, in order that my face might not be seen in case they were strangers; and to conceal it effectually, I tied a handkerchief over my mouth and chin.
"Salam Aliekoom," said a gruff voice, as a man with Peer Khan entered the tent.
"You are welcome, friend," said I: "sit down." He was evidently weary with travel, and seated himself slowly.
"Your name," said I; "and who are you?"
"My name," replied the man, "is well known, I dare say, to most people, and they are afraid of it. I am called Lall Khan, or familiarly Lalloo."
"I have not heard it before," said I; "but who are you and your men?"
"Oh, we are free traders, who help ourselves to what we can get with a strong hand." Some wandering Pindharees, thought I; and I asked him if they were such.
"Not exactly," said he; "we are Dacoos."
"Worse and worse," said I, laughing; "and I suppose you are from Delhi?"
"Ay," replied he, "even so; we know you, though you do not know us. We know you to be Thugs by your encampment—but never fear us;—brethren should not interfere with each other; we have different ways of helping ourselves to spoil, but what matter; we are brothers in a general sense of the word."
"Good, we are; and if I can help you, say so."
"In no wise," said he, "but to give us room among ye for the night: we will be off early, if you do not go the same road."
"Room ye shall have, Khan, till the moon rises, and food too; but after that we are off; we travel northwards."
"Then it cannot be helped," he replied; "we will stay here till you go, and occupy your ground afterwards; we shall not be suspected."
"And where are you going?" I asked.
"To Hyderabad," said the man. "No one suspects Dacoos to be out at this time of the year, and we shall have the whole road to ourselves; we shall return after the rains, about the Dussera, by the Nagpoor road. Now we are going by Bhopal and Boorhanpoor."
"And your luck?" said I; "have you had good bunij?" (for this word was understood by them, and is common to all classes of people who do their work on the roads).
"Middling," said he, "neither good nor bad. We have had a few affairs, but nothing to boast of."
"Well," said I, "you have taken a good line; the road from Boorhanpoor to Hyderabad is a good one, and you will be in Sikundur Jah's country, where no one asks questions about the people who are left on the highways. I wish you good luck, and my friend will look after your comforts: you must excuse me, as I am in pain from a swelled face and toothache."
"Salam!" said he, as he departed: "if you were going instead of returning, we might get good plunder in company; we Dacoos are rare hands at rough work."
I had spoken in a disguised voice, and it was impossible he could recognize me again if he met me. I did this for an object which occurred to me at the moment, as you shall learn hereafter. I mentioned this meeting to my father. "What hinders us," said I, "from meeting them as they come up? they will be laden with spoil, and will be an easy prey. Brave and reckless as they are, they have no wit, and will never find us out."
"I don't know that," said my father; "they are not so stupid as you think; I know much of them, have killed some of them, and they were cunning enough. Several gangs of them have escaped Thugs by being able to detect them. However, I see nothing objectionable in your plan; and at any rate, it will furnish excuse for a new expedition."
"Ay," said Ganesha, who was present, "let us go; I long to see the Meer Sahib act. We hear so much of him, that, by Bhowanee, perhaps an unlucky old Thug like myself may pick up something new. Will you let me come also?"
"Certainly," said I; "but you will see no more than you know already; lucky I have been, but you know my pretensions to knowledge are very small, and I have never boasted of them. To my perception, the whole art consists in having a smooth tongue in one's head; and a man who is a good Bhuttote rarely makes a good Sotha."
"Yet you are both, Meer Sahib," said Ganesha, with a malicious grin; "and your men would follow you to the death."
"So they will," said I; "for I am kind and considerate to them, and reward them handsomely."
This stung him to the quick; for he was a rough bully, and, though perhaps one of the best Bhuttotes then living, was no hand at inveigling travellers; and as he always persisted in being a Sotha himself, he was notoriously unlucky; but few men, too, would serve under him. He was preparing to retort sharply, when my father stopped him.
"Let him alone," said he; "he is a proud boy, and bickerings among us lead to no good: you must not think on what he has said."
"Nay, Ismail," said he, with the air of an offended child, "I care not what he says; pride will have its fall, and I may live to see it."
I was very angry, but there was no use in saying more. Had we been alone, he should have answered for it.—So you see, Sahib, out of a trifling incident a new expedition was determined on. We all prayed it might be more favourable than the former one which was planned in that direction, and I confess that my success in the last had strengthened my faith in the efficacy of theomens, though as yet by no means established it. Experience, they say, is always bought at a costly price, and is bitter when you have got it; and I had to buy mine, though the time was not yet come.
But Soobhan Khan, who was he? said I to Ameer Ali; and did you pay him his price of blood?
Not a cowree of it, said Ameer Ali; but you shall hear. I asked my father who he was, and detailed the whole of my adventures with him: he remembered the man the instant I spoke of him.
"The rascal!" cried my father; "and is he so rich and honoured, the son of a vile woman? To think that he should be in such a situation, the scoundrel! But the deeds of Alla are inscrutable. Listen, my son, to his story, which can be told in a few words.
"He and I were Jemadars together. I never liked him, and he had a bad reputation; he was never a good Bhuttote, for the fellow was an arrant coward, but he was a capital Sotha, and his smooth tongue gained him more bunij than we could gain by straightforward work. Well, many years ago we joined together, he to be Sotha, and I to manage the other work. We had killed a large body of travellers near Jeypoor, for we had a numerous gang. Two were sahoukars, and the booty was large. Among it were some pearls and precious stones; they were given over to his party as their share, and he said he would go to Indoor to sell them; but I had lent him nearly a thousand rupees at different times, when he had no money to make advances to men to induce them to serve under him, and I pressed him for some of the pearls, which I wanted for my wife, in payment of the money. This was late one night, after we had divided the spoil; he said he would give me them in the morning, when I could pick out the strings I liked best; and he spoke so winningly, that I, fool as I was, never doubted him. That night he absconded, and I never heard of him till this extraordinary account of yours. Pay him!" continued my father, "not the value of a broken cowree shall he ever get; in any other man I might have pardoned it, but in him the conduct was ingratitude in the highest degree; for had I not assisted and upheld him, he would have been neglected and have starved."
This then was the secret of Soobhan Khan's wealth; he must have sold his pearls one by one, as he had hinted to me that he had traded in them, and raised himself by bribery to the state he was in. Of course I neither sent him his money as I had promised, nor wrote him a line to say that I had arrived safely at Jhalone. I destroyed his pass too, as it might have led to detection.
I have told you of my popularity among the Thugs, and when it became known that a new expedition was planned, and would set out after the Dussera, so many men offered themselves that I was obliged to reject numbers, and select those whom I knew, from experience and character, would be likely to behave best. Among them were a few who were excellent musicians and singers. I had before, on many occasions, felt the want of such men, to amuse travellers with whom I had fallen in; and these were particularly acceptable to me at the present time, as the expedition was a large one; and the country being quieter and more settled than it had been for some years, we were assured that the roads would be full of persons of rank and consequence travelling to and from their homes. In order that our band might have the greater appearance of respectability, I begged of my father to accompany us; for his venerable appearance and polished manners would, I was certain, do more to insure us success than all our most cunning stratagems.
Nor was I neglectful of the Rajah; from time to time I visited his durbar, and was always received with the greatest civility and attention, as indeed I deserved; for not only was I a good servant to him, but as numbers of Thugs had settled around me in different villages, the revenue they paid for his protection and connivance at our work amounted to a handsome sum yearly; and I need not say it was punctually paid, for upon this mainly depended our concealment.In the last expedition, however, I had pleaded poverty on my return, and though I could have well spared five thousand rupees from my own share, I was content with presenting as my nuzzur a gun I had purchased in Bombay for two hundred rupees, and a small string of pearls which I had found among the treasure of the Rokurreas; and he seemed satisfied; but it was merely the feigned content which precedes a violent outbreak of discontent or passion. He was our bitter, deadly enemy, though he cloaked his designs under the garb of friendship, and was gradually perfecting his schemes for our destruction.
We set out. I have nothing new or interesting to relate to you of the manner in which our preparations were made and completed. Azima too, poor soul, never dreamed of what we were: it was enough for her to know that every new expedition brought her new ornaments and better clothes, and enabled her to live in a higher and more expensive manner. I had been enabled to add greatly to my house, and it was now as comfortable and spacious as I could desire. She knew too that, with increased wealth, she could look for a higher alliance for our daughter, our only child; and she had even now received proposals of marriage for her, some of which were in every way advantageous, and with persons unconnected with our profession, of which I was glad; for, knowing full well that one mischance, or one traitor among us, would hurl me at once from my prosperity, I was desirous of marrying her to some one who could protect her, and be free from any dangers similar to those I was myself exposed to.
I however bade Azima wait, because (as I told her) the journey I was about to undertake would be infallibly prosperous, and a fresh addition to our already ample means would enable us to have the marriage ceremony performed in a manner fitting or perhaps exceeding our pretensions. She readily acceded to my request; for if there be one thing more than another about which a matron of Hindostan is solicitous, it is the marriage of her child; not as regards happiness I must own, though perhaps there may be a lurking wish that she may be happy; but the main matter is, that her clothes shall be of the best and richest materials, her jewels many and of value, and the whole of the establishment which she takes to her new lord of the most substantial description; that they may last her for years, and procure for her mother the goodwill of the female members of her husband's family. Nothing is productive of more quarrels among the females than that anything should appear indifferent; remarks are made, and reproaches are bandied about between the united families; and out of these soon grows an enmity which never cools. Many a marriage, which promised well at its outset, has been marred in its joyous termination by fault being found with the equipments of the bride, which are always submitted for inspection to her female relations before they become her own property for ever.
But I am digressing, and must return to my own adventures. We left Jhalone as before, upwards of three hundred Thugs, under my father, Ganesha, Peer Khan, and myself. We gave out along the road that we were servants of the Nizam, and were returning to our service at Hyderabad after our periodical leave of absence; this was necessary, for our numbers without it would have provoked suspicion.
Never shall I forget the first matter we took in hand; not that there was anything remarkable in the destruction of four men, but it was attended by a sad result, which damped the spirits of the party for many days afterwards, and from whichonenever recovered. Peer Khan had a nephew, a boy of about ten years old, a noble little fellow, beautiful in his features, and intelligent beyond his years. As you may imagine, he was a great favourite among us all, and I had repeatedly asked Peer Khan to allow me to adopt him as my son, to supply the place of the child I had lost: but he would not hear of it, for the child was the son of a beloved sister who was dead; the boy's father had also died about two years before, and Peer Khan had taken him to his home, and loved him as his own.
The little fellow rode a spirited pony which I had given him, was always in the van of the party, and amused us by his mimic feats of horsemanship and by his intelligent prattle: he could never be kept behind; and when the timecame that the four men were to meet their fate, we had given him in charge to those who brought up the rear, with strict orders that on no account was he to be permitted to come on after us. Peer Khan also had desired him to keep with these people, as he was going off the road to a village at some distance; and he had promised obedience. Yet all our precautions were of no avail;—how could they be, when what followed had evidently been written in his destiny?
I had just given the jhirnee, and the four miserable men were writhing in the agonies of death, one of them too was shrieking, when, Ya Alla! who should come galloping up but Alum Khan, the boy I have mentioned. His first exclamation was of triumph that he had caught us; but how can I tell the look of horror to which his countenance was instantly changed when he saw what was going on! His eyes became fixed, and were wide open, his tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth, he uttered no sound, but clasped his hands in agony; and before I could dismount, or even Peer Khan, who was superintending the work, he had fallen from his pony insensible.
"What shall we do?" cried I to Peer Khan, as we raised him up and strove to comfort him. "Speak to him; a word from you may arouse him."
"My child, my child!" cried Peer Khan, in accents of terror and misery; "oh speak to me! one word only—you are killing your parent. Ya Alla!" continued he, raising his hands to heaven, "grant that this swoon may pass away, and that he may speak; I will feed a hundred Fakeers in thy name, O merciful Prophet! if thou wilt but intercede and grant my prayer." But it was of no avail; the poor boy lay senseless, though his eyes were fixed and staring, and not a word could he utter. The Thugs, too, had left the dead, and were all around us. There was a rivulet close by, in which the bhil had been prepared; I thought of water, and bid one of the men run for some. It was brought, and I poured it into his mouth. "He revives,—his lips move!" cried Peer Khan, in an ecstasy of delight, "He speaks!" And the poor boy did speak.
"Where am I, uncle?" said he, in a faint voice. "Where am I? What have I seen?" And he passed his hands over his eyes.
"Nothing, nothing," cried his uncle; "you have fallen from your pony, that is all. You should not ride so hard, my child; you might have been killed."
"No, no," said the boy; "I did not fall. I saw—Alla save me! save me, uncle! Oh, look at their eyes and faces—there they lie. Oh, kill me, I cannot bear it! I shall die."
Unhappy child! he had again seen their faces,—we had never thought of the dead. One of the bodies lay close to us, the distorted features grinning horribly; and it had fallen against a bank, so that he saw it sitting half upright—a dreadful spectacle for a child.
"Take it away, take it away!" he shouted, in his infant voice. "I shall die! Oh, bury me! I shall never forget the face and the eyes—they will be ever before me!"
"Away with them!" cried I; and as I turned again to the child, he had sunk on his face in the sand of the road, and was endeavouring to hide himself in it,—he was in strong convulsions.
"Alla! Alla! what shall I do!" cried Peer Khan. "Oh, Meer Sahib, by your soul, by your mother's honour, do something! Save that child, and I will be your slave till the end of my days; I will serve you on my knees,—I will be your menial."
"What can be done?" said I. "All we can do is to stay with him, and comfort him when the paroxysm is past. He will revive soon and forget all."
Poor boy, how he strove in his convulsions! He could not speak intelligibly; he foamed at the mouth; his lips grew livid and contracted; his eyes, when he opened them, seemed sunk into his head. I had never seen such terror before, nor could I have believed that it would have had such an effect on any one. We carried him to the edge of the stream, and by dint of bathing his face, and forcing water into his mouth, he partly revived. He had just opened his eyes again, when, by a miserable chance, they fell upon one of the turbans of the dead men, with which I had been wiping his face. It had aninstantaneous effect on him; his screams broke out afresh, nothing could console him, and we were in dreadful alarm about him. What to do we knew not; we were far away from any human habitation; and even had we been near one, we dared not have called in any hukeem to see him, for his incoherent ravings would have too truly exposed our doings. We sat by the boy in fearful apprehensions that every throe and convulsion would cause his death; at last we raised him up and placed him on his pony, and had succeeded in conveying him about a coss while he was in a state of insensibility; but it was of no avail. Again he awoke from his temporary unconsciousness, and we were obliged to take him down, and lay him on a bank at the side of the road, while we fanned his face and endeavoured to compose him.
But he was greatly reduced in strength, his moans were feebler and feebler; and though he now opened his eyes and gazed calmly around him, it was but too plain to us that the delicate flower had been blighted, and was fast withering under the terror which possessed him. Peer Khan was in a dreadful state; he raved, he entreated, he prayed; he knelt down beside the poor sufferer, and bedewed his face with his tears, which were fast falling; but no mercy was shown him. We sat thus till long past mid-day; numerous travellers passed us, all commiserating the child's state of suffering, but they shook their heads as they left us, with a firm conviction that he must die.
And he did die! towards evening the pure spirit fled from the suffering body, and we were left alone in the wild waste with the dead.
"It is of no use lamenting now," said I to Peer Khan, as he sat, his hands clasped in anguish, rocking himself to and fro, and moaning and sobbing as though his spirit would break. "It is of no use, brother, the boy is dead, and we must carry the body on to the stage, which is not very far distant."
"Do as you will," he replied: "as for me my heart is broken; I shall never look up again. He was the life of my soul, and without him what shall I do? what shall I do?"
But we raised the body up, and at times carrying it, at others placing it before us on our horses, we conveyed it to the camp. Our absence had been known; but as its cause was also known, none of the Thugs had come out to meet us. We laid down our sad burden in my tent, a grave was quickly dug, and it was buried by torch-light, amidst the tears and lamentations of the whole band; for the boy was beloved by all.
Peer Khan came to me in the dead of the night, and awoke me from a restless slumber, in which the dreams of the sad scene had fearfully mingled. I was glad that he had come, but not for what followed.
"Meer Sahib," said he, after a long silence, "I am not what I was,—I never shall be again; I am broken in spirit, and am no longer fit for my profession. My fate too points against it, and after this dreadful catastrophe I should be useless to you; permit me therefore to depart. You see I am calm and composed, and I do not say what I now urge on you in passion or grief; therefore let me depart. I will go to my home, and in solitude endeavour to make the remainder of my life acceptable to Alla, who has visited me with this affliction. Nor will it be long ere the earth covers me; I feel that this blow has shaken me to my soul, and it will bow me down to the grave."
I saw it was useless to argue with him: his features were stamped with despair, and to contravene a man's fate is impossible. It is the will of Alla, and what mortal can oppose it? It must have its course.
"Go," said I, "Peer Khan; may peace be with you, and the blessing of the Prophet! I feel for you. I shall ever grieve with you; but if, in after-times, your inclination leads you to join me, I need not say how gladly I shall avail myself of your services. We have been friends and brothers, and we part such, I hope, after years of a sincere and mutual affection."
He could not reply to me—he wrung my hands, while the big tears rolled from his eyes over his manly features: he made attempts to address me, but the words stuck in his throat; and at length throwing himself at my feet, he kissed them, and embraced my knees: he then arose, and after gazing on me for a moment, with features working under the effects of suppressed emotion, he rushed from my presence for ever—ay, for ever! When we returned to Jhalone he was dead; his grief had killed him!
He had been more to me than any of my other companions, and deeply I sorrowed over his untimely fate. I said this event threw a gloom over our party, which did not pass away for many days; but gradually the men assumed their wonted cheerfulness, and again the song, the jest, and the tale were heard in our merry and light-hearted camp. Nor was the more serious part of our object neglected. Within a march or two of Jubbulpoor, we had heard that a Moonshee, stated to be a man of great wealth, was travelling before us to Nagpoor, and we made an effort to overtake him. We effected this march from Jubbulpoor, on the Nagpoor side, and were now entering on our best ground; I say our best, as there were but few inhabitants in that miserable country.
We overtook the Moonshee; but had it not been that we were nearly three hundred Thugs in number, we should have hesitated to attack so large a party as his. He had two good-sized tents, horses, camels, a palankeen and bearers, and servants; and we deliberated long over the matter. The omens, however, having been consulted, were found to be favourable, and therefore we hesitated no longer, but now laid our plans to effect an object which promised so much plunder.
We encamped close to the Moonshee for two days; of course this led to intercourse. Hearing that we were respectable persons, he sent to my father and myself to come to him on the second evening, and we went. The Moonshee was in the employment of the Europeans; he had served with the force at Jalna, under General Doveton, though we could not make out whether he was a servant of that officer or not; but he spoke of him in such terms as led us to suppose he was. He told us that now the country was settled, he had obtained leave to go to Hindostan, and was returning with his wife and child. We spent a pleasant evening with him, for he was a man of extensive information, and amused us with many anecdotes and accounts of the Feringhees, of whom he spoke in terms of the highest praise, and undeceived us as to many particulars we had heard of them, and materially removed many of our prejudices against them. I respected them more from what he said than I had ever done before; for though every one acknowledged they were good and brave soldiers, it was said they were vicious, and debauched, and drunken. At one or two questions of mine the Moonshee laughed immoderately. I asked him once why the Europeans eat with knives and forks, and spoons, instead of with their fingers, which God had given them.
"Yes," said my father, "old as I am I have never been able to find this out. Tell us, for you know, as you have yourself seen them eat."
"Tell me what you have heard," said the Moonshee, "and I will give you an answer."
"It appears so extraordinary," said I, "that I can hardly believe it; for why should not all men be the same? Nevertheless, I have heard, and from what I thought to be good authority, that their finger-nails contain poison, and therefore they dare not risk the chance of their drawing blood, nay more, of touching their food."
How he laughed! I thought he would never have ended; and I felt nettled that my remark should have given rise to such immoderate mirth. I could hear, too, from the tittering behind the division of the tent, that the women were also provoked to merriment at my expense. At last he said,—"No, no, Meer Sahib, this is folly. Who could have told you such a lie? What if their skins be white and their faces ruddy, are they not the same flesh and blood as we are? They eat with spoons and knives because it is the custom of their country, and because they do not like to soil their hands; besides, their style of cookery is different to ours; for instance, they roast half a sheep and eat it, and how could they do so without the implements they use?"