CHAPTER IV.
Chan Lody and his son Hussein had great difficulty in stemming the rapid current. Their horses were carried a considerable distance down the stream, and almost exhausted before they reached the opposite bank; fortunately, the channel was so full that the water was on a level with the land. When they had made good their transit, they shouted to apprise the generous Azmut of their safety, whom, however, they did not see; for he was engaged in that perilous onset of destruction to which he had so heroically devoted himself.
The father’s distress was great when he perceived that Jahanira had not followed them. He concluded that, fearing to encounter the peril of crossing the river, she had resolved to throw herself upon the clemency of the conquerors; for the defeat of her brother and his small band was certain. Such a resolution, however, was so contrary to her nature that he rejected the supposition almost as soon as he had formed it, and came to the final conclusion that she had determined to share the fate of Azmut. The anxious father hoped, that, should they hear his shouts of safety, they would immediately fly from the unequal contest, and attempt the passage of the river, as he and his elder son had done with unexpected success.
He was not far from right in his judgment concerning Jahanira; she had remained with Azmut, resolved either to perish or escape with them. No sooner had Chan Lody and Hussein plunged into the stream than Azmut spurred towards the imperialists, who were advancing slowly towards the pass. Seeing him approach, Perist ordered his army to halt, determined to have the satisfaction of slaying him with his own arm. Jahanira had armed herself with a bow and arrows. Following her brother, shepaused when she saw his foe singly advance to meet him. The hardy Calmuc, confiding in his own strength, awaited with a smile of anticipated triumph the coming onset of his impatient enemy.
Azmut was rejoiced to see the halt of the imperial army, as it would render secure the retreat of his father and brother, provided the current of the river did not prove too strong for them. Being upon a light active horse, he passed the usher at speed, and striking at him in full career, inflicted a deep gash on his knee. The Tartar turned, and Azmut wheeling at the same moment, their horses met with a tremendous shock, and the light charger of the latter rolled upon the plain. Its rider was upon his feet in an instant. Perist spurred towards him, but he parried a furious stroke, at the same time springing actively on one side, as his huge adversary attempted to ride him down. His danger, however, was imminent, and the moment critical. Jahanira beheld the peril of her beloved brother. She placed an arrow upon the string of her bow. The Tartar had again advanced upon Azmut, and as he raised his heavy sabre to bury it in the body of his youthful opponent, a shaft, sped with unerring aim, entered his temple, and he dropped dead at his horse’s feet.
Azmut saw from whence the succour came, waved his arm in token of acknowledgment, and retreated towards the pass; but being on foot, he was overtaken by a party of the enemy’s cavalry before he could reach his followers. The latter, however, rushed forward to his rescue, and for some time a desperate struggle ensued; it was short and decisive. Overwhelmed by numbers, the fugitives were cut off to a man. Azmut slew two Omrahs with his own hands, but was transfixed by a lance as he was in the act of bringing his sword upon the crest of a third. An arrow from the bow of his heroic sister entered the bosom of his destroyer, and she had the satisfaction of witnessing his death-pang while she beheld that of her brother.
Seeing that all was lost, and hearing her father’s shouts, she spurred her horse towards the river, discharging several arrows in her flight at the pursuing squadron: the enemy expected that thewater would arrest her flight, and therefore slackened their speed as they approached; but to their amazement she dashed fearlessly in, and pushed bravely for the opposite shore, upon which stood her father and only surviving brother.
The enemy halted upon the bank in amazement, not daring to attempt the passage. The turbid waters rolled rapidly on, foaming and hissing in their way, as they were occasionally interrupted in their course by the partial sinuosities of the channel. Her horse was slight, but full of fire, and pawed the turbulent stream with an impatient but resolute spirit. The undaunted girl was frequently sucked down by the eddies, but she maintained her seat and rose above them with an intrepidity that amazed while it mortified her hostile spectators. Vexed that she should have eluded them, several archers discharged their arrows at her as she was struggling amidst the perilous element. One shaft hit her on the turban; this being saturated, repelled it; but such was the force with which the arrow had been urged, that the turban was struck from her head, exposing it to the cowardly aim of her incensed foes.
By this time she had passed the middle of the channel where the current was strongest, and thus somewhat abated the chances of perishing amidst the troubled waters. Her enemies still continuing to discharge their arrows, as if in derision of their impotent malice, she raised herself in her stirrup, threw back her long raven hair which streamed around her like a fine sable fringe, and waved her arm, bidding them a mute defiance. Her father and brother cheered her from the shore, but her safety was still doubtful. Her horse was fast sinking. Its nose was scarcely perceptible above the agitated surface of the stream. There was but one resource—she flung herself from its back, and the noble animal almost immediately sank.
She was yet a considerable distance from the bank, and the current was still strong. She breasted it, however, with fearless energy, straining every nerve to reach the shore. The foe had ceased to impel their arrows, as she was by this time beyond the reach of anything like a certain aim. She flung her sandals fromher feet as they embarrassed her movements, and in spite of the fierce rush of the stream, she rose above it and gradually advanced towards the bank. It was evident that she would not be able much longer to continue her exertions, and her anxious parent was beginning to entertain his doubts of her eventual escape, when she caught the branch of a tree which was just underneath the surface, and sustained herself until she had recovered her breath. Just below, the bank had given way and formed a sort of frith, in which she finally landed, and was welcomed by her father with a transport of emotion.
When she had sufficiently recovered, Chan Lody could no longer subdue his anxiety to know the fate of his brave son. “And Azmut,” he said, “has become a sacrifice to his father’s safety, for I see him not.”
“Yes,” said Jahanira, solemnly, “he has met a soldier’s doom. He is gone to the inheritance of the brave.”
“God is just; he did not perish unrevenged.”
“No, the man who offered him an indignity in the imperial presence has paid the penalty of his daring. I slew him, father.”
“My child!” the parent fell upon his daughter’s neck and wept.
“Azmut died with his sword in his hand, reeking with the slaughter of his enemies. His was a noble death,—how much better than an inglorious life!”
Of Chan Lody’s followers, three only survived,—the whole had been slain, except five who had plunged into the river a short time before Jahanira. Two had perished in attempting the passage, and three had succeeded in gaining the shore. With this wretched remnant of his little army, he proceeded towards Malwa, halting for the night at a small village about ten leagues from the river. His misfortunes had been severe, but they rather tended to render him resolute than to subdue his unbending spirit. His march into this province was speedy, but sorrowful. The loss of Azmut was a bitter grief. He was the pride of his father’s house;—a mere child in years, he had shown the wisdom of the sage, and the skill in arms of an accomplished warrior. Chan Lody lived but toavenge his early and premature fate, and the idea of vengeance was a solace to his lacerated spirit.
When he reached Malwa, to the government of which he had been appointed by Shah Jehan, he began to levy troops, and soon found himself at the head of a small but well-disciplined force. His name was formidable throughout the empire, and the late events had obtained for him an almost universal sympathy. He was not, however, permitted to remain long unmolested. Within three weeks after he had crossed the river to avoid the imperial army, the waters had subsided, and his enemies having recruited their forces, advanced to Malwa. He met them in the field, but was defeated, and obliged to retire to the mountains, where he maintained a successful defence, until the monsoon obliged the enemy to retire. Lody had harassed them by frequent surprises, by cutting off their supplies, and by reducing them to such straits that they were finally obliged to leave him in undisturbed possession of the province which the Emperor had placed under his government. They were glad at length to escape the difficulties which he raised around them.
The Emperor was extremely perplexed at Chan Lody’s escape. He knew the abilities of that Omrah, and the estimation in which his principles and talents were almost universally held. So long as he lived, the Mogul throne was a contingency. Nothing but the death of Chan Lody could give security to the reign of Shah Jehan. With these impressions, the Emperor determined to destroy that noble, as a maxim of state policy; and therefore, so soon as the monsoon had passed, he despatched a numerous army to drive him from his stronghold in the mountains, and bring him to Agra, alive or dead.
The imperial general was a noble of distinguished reputation, and commanded a numerous and well-appointed army. He encamped within a day’s march from the mountains to which Chan Lody had retired for security. Conscious of his numerical superiority, he affected to despise his enemy. On the evening after he had encamped, a nautch-girl entered his presence, soliciting permission to dance before him. Struck with her singularbeauty, she was allowed to exhibit her professional skill in his presence after the evening meal. He did not long enjoy the exhibition of her evolutions. He was taken ill shortly after having swallowed a copious draught of sherbert, and before the morning was a corpse. His mysterious death provoking inquiry, it was immediately ascertained that he had been poisoned. The sudden disappearance of the nautch-girl excited suspicion. She was nowhere to be found. The death of the imperial general soon reached Lody’s ears, and all the mysterious circumstances attending it. “I can explain the mystery,” said the Omrah’s daughter; “I entered the hostile camp in disguise, and poison has removed a foe whose place will not be easily supplied.”
The death of their general rendered the imperial army inactive for some time, and gave an opportunity to Lody to escape into the Deccan, where he had powerful friends.