CHAPTER II.
The traveller now pursued his way through the intricacies of the jungle, with much difficulty and equal patience. He had not long quitted the spot of his last night’s repose, when, entering a small glade where the wood had been cleared, he perceived a group of eight men, seated round the glowing embers of a fire, some smoking, and others apparently devouring the last of their morning’s meal. Knowing that retreat would be of no avail to secure him from their hostile intentions, if they were enemies, he boldly approached, and inquired his way to the nearest hamlet. One of the men rose, and meeting him, said with a significant laugh,
“Perhaps you wouldn’t mind ending your journey here?”
“Indeed but I should. If you can direct me on my way, well; if not, I have no time for parleying.”
“Good! but travellers that pass through these woods are in the habit of paying for safe-conduct.”
“I require no guide, and therefore must decline the tribute.”
“Hark’ye! Do you think your single arm a match for eight pair? Be advised, and lower your tone. We live here by our good wits, levying contributions when the opportunity invites, and living on what the forest provides, when such opportunities fail us. We must have what you carry upon your shoulders, your money, and your provender, if you have any. When we make our demands, remember we take no denial.”
“Then I am in the presence of robbers?”
“Ay! and what then?”
“This, that I shall not submit to your exactions, though you had a hundred, instead of seven, to back you!”
The robber laughed; and, turning to his comrades, said, “Here’s a fellow that wont be plucked without fluttering; we must try blows to bring down the game, if he chooses to be deaf to persuasion. Come,” said he, turning to the traveller, “get rid of that unsightly hump upon your shoulders, and show how straight a man you are when you stand upright, without an incumbrance.”
“Life,” replied the traveller, “is only to be valued at its worth; and I am ready to relinquish mine, if it be Allah’s will, in defence of my property. ’Tis no great matter for a man to die, who has known little else than crosses in this world, and has nothing better to look forward to. Take heed then, though you be robbers, and such are seldom merciful, how you impede the progress of a desperate man.”
Saying this, he retreated towards a tree, against which he placed himself, and drawing his sword, declared his determination to resist to the death.
The robbers paused, surprised at the determination to oppose himself against such palpable odds; but, in order to prove how the hero had miscalculated his chances, one of the men discharged an arrow, and transfixed his sword-arm, pinning it to the tree.The traveller immediately snapped off the shaft, and raised his arm to strike, but it fell powerless beside him. He was instantly overpowered and disarmed; but upon examining the contents of his load, great was the disappointment of the bandits. They scattered its contents upon the ground, deriding the stranger’s risk of his life for property so valueless.
“Well,” said the robber who had already spoken, “as he keeps no purse, we must make one out of him. His limbs are of the right mould, and your purchasers of slaves will give something for a sturdy labourer. We’ll bid you good-bye when we can provide you a master who knows how to pay for being furnished with a brawny pair of shoulders, that he may lay his own load upon, without carrying them under his own head. Come along; you shall rest quietly till that awkward puncture in your arm is healed, and then you shall be shown the way to the next hamlet.”
The stranger’s arms were bound with his turban, and he was forced to proceed between two of the bandits. They entered the thicket, and after a walk of about five minutes, stood before several rude huts, formed in one of the closest recesses of the forest. These hovels were constructed from various growths of the jungle, a small square spot having been cleared in front, where the outlaws smoked, cooked their curries, and held their councils. Each hut accommodated a family, for all the men were married.
As there was no spare dwelling for the stranger, one was immediately constructed by a couple of the robbers, and completed in about two hours. It consisted of a few slight bamboos, driven into the ground at intervals of a foot, under the foilage of a low tree, which formed the roof. These bamboos were crossed with smaller canes, and the interstices filled with broad leaves and dried grass: the turf being cleared from within, the habitation was complete.
On the third day after his capture, the traveller was commanded to prepare for a change of condition. His wound was doing well, but the arm continued useless. His hands had not been released from the bandage by which they were confined when he was made captive. He was brought out into the area before the huts.
“Now,” said the principal bandit, addressing him, “what say you to a change of life, in the mode at least? We are robbers; our business requires quick heads and stout hearts. You are a brave son of a good mother: what say you to a union of interests with those who, as you see, know how to live, and when provisions get scarce, are not over nice in appropriating them without purchase?”
“I fear,” replied the prisoner, “that I have too quick a conscience for a robber. You had better not trust me: I should betray you.”
“We’ll run the risk; a brave man never can discredit his courage, and to skulk in the track of treachery is the choice only of cowards. We’ll trust you.”
“You would act then with a fool’s discretion; for brave men should be honourable, and ’tis an honourable act to proclaim rogues, who are the bane of society:—not to proclaim them would be an act of treachery against honest men.”
“In truth, I did not take thee for an honest man, though I did for a brave one; but I suspect thee to be neither, and only fit to rub a horse’s crupper, and perform the slave’s drudgery. So be it, thou shalt soon know thy vocation.”
“These bonds are thy security,” said the traveller, raising his hands, which were still tied with the turban. “Cowards are always brave, when they are beyond the reach of danger. Does it become thy manhood to insult a maimed and unarmed man?”
This appeal, though it galled the pride, roused the better spirit of the robber, and he said:—“Well! our notions of valour may be like our notions of honesty; therefore, let both be a divided question; but, since you decline joining your fortune with ours, you must settle our demand for home and nourishment, and as you seem to have no gold of your own, we must turn you into a disposable commodity, and get something for our trouble and care of you.”
The stranger now proceeded with his captors, and, after a march of some hours, they reached a village bordering upon the forest. It consisted of a few miserable huts, and its inhabitants were of thelowest class. Shortly after their arrival, a merchant made his appearance, who purchased the prisoner from the robbers; and he was left with a stranger in the new and unenviable character of a slave. This was anything but a realization of his dream; it however satisfied him, if he harboured a different conviction before, that dreams are the mere fantastic creations of an excited brain, and he felt ashamed of having allowed so flimsy an illusion to obtain one moment’s influence over his mind.
There was nothing to be gained by despondency, and he resolved to submit to his destiny, with a secret trust in God, and a determination to direct the tenour of his life according to the pure suggestions of a rigid and inflexible conscience. So soon as he had become the merchant’s property, the latter examined his wound, and, having carefully dressed it, as carefully felt his chest and limbs, in order to form some idea of the texture of his muscles. This preliminary settled, he expressed himself well satisfied with his purchase. The merchant was a little shrivelled man, with a light brown complexion, exhibiting a dull ochreous tinge, as if in him the whole biliary structure were placed in his head. He had a thin straggling beard, so scattered over the corrugated surface of his sharp-pointed chin, as to give him the appearance of a senile hag, rather than that of a venerable slave-dealer. He was accompanied by several athletic attendants, who amply made up in bone and sinew for the deficiency of their master in both particulars.
Having asked his new slave a few questions respecting his former habits of life, and thus ascertained that he had been accustomed to those hardy exploits likely to have inured his body to endurance, calculating that he should make a handsome profit by his bargain, the thrifty chafferer ordered him to be carefully attended to. After a day’s rest at the village, the merchant directed his route towards Khorassan, whither they arrived, after a laborious journey. The slave was lodged at the house of his purchaser, who fed him well, and used him with sufficient kindness, in order to bring him into the best possible condition for sale. He took care to have it rumoured that he had a stout handsome fellow to dispose of, such as could not be matched in all Persia;in consequence, many persons, willing to purchase, came to see the marvel; but, finding that the description was not exactly borne out by the reality, and the sum demanded being more than they could afford, or were willing to pay, they declined entering upon a bargain.
The merchant began to grow impatient; and, as he was daily incurring an expense without profit, he thought it would be better to abate something of his demand and conclude an immediate sale, than to throw away more money upon the doubtful chance of obtaining a better price. An expedient, however, struck him. Conceiving that bondage could be desirable to no man, it occurred to him that the object of his anxiety and late disappointment might have the means of purchasing his own freedom. When this bright conclusion came across his mind, delighted with the excessive novelty of the thought, he argued that a man ought to pay more for his own liberty than another for the privilege of withholding it from him, because it was a far greater benefit to the one than to the other; and he consequently determined to raise his demand in proportion. With a portentous smile quivering upon his features, he approached the object of his anticipated gain, and said—
“Would you not be glad to enjoy your freedom?”
“You may as well ask a starving man if he loves rice.”
“Are you willing to pay for it?”
“How?”
“In money.”
“No. I am not disposed to buy what is the blessed boon of Heaven, and of this you have no more right to deprive me than I have to cut your throat, which you well deserve, for being the encourager of knaves and the supporter of brigands.”
The old man’s countenance collapsed like a death’s head, and, without uttering a word, he tottered from the presence of his incensed captive, as if stung by a scorpion.
From this time he treated his prisoner with much more rigour than he had hitherto done, and at length came to the resolution of putting a collar round his neck, and forcing him to perform offices of drudgery for a daily compensation. It however fortunatelyhappened that Aluptugeen, Governor of Khorassan, hearing a favourable account of the slave, desired to see him. He accordingly made his appearance, and was immediately purchased by the governor, to the no small gratification of the slave-merchant.