The Mahratta Chief.
CHAPTER I.
A cavalcade was on its way to Madura through one of those deep gorges with which the Western Ghauts abound. Evening had already set in, and thickened by the dense shadows of the mountains which intercept the sun’s rays as he verges towards the horizon, the darkness was intense. The evening hour had been chosen by the travellers for the renewal of their journey, in order to escape the scorching heat of the sun, which in the daytime, when reflected from the bare sides of the hills, is so great as to be scarcely endurable. The night was lovely. The glen through which the party were passing was a profound hollow; above the mountains rose on either side, sloping upwards from the base, and thus presenting the form of a funnel. The sky, seen from this pitchy glen, appeared of uncommon brilliancy, and was so thickly studded with stars, that the light seemed to percolate through the entire expanse: but it reached not the bosom of the ravine through which the travellers were passing, being repelled by the ponderous shadows of the surrounding hills.
In the midst of the cavalcade was a palankeen of costly construction, borne upon the shoulders of four sturdy Hindoos. Round it hung a rich silk drapery which entirely enclosed and concealed the person within. Whining a dull monotonous chant, the hamauls[42]proceeded at a slow but steady pace, on account ofthe inequalities of the ground. A guard of a hundred and fifty soldiers followed close behind them. The murmurs of their voices as they chatted to beguile the tediousness of their journey was multiplied by the slumbering echoes of the hills, which were awakened at their approach, and appeared to mock them with their own hilarity.
They came at length to a gloomy pass between two huge masses of rock that seemed to have been cast there by some mighty convulsion of the earth. Here the strait was so exceedingly narrow that there was scarcely room to force the palankeen through. Two men could not go abreast. When the hamauls were just about to emerge from this mountain gorge, they found their progress opposed by a troop of armed men. Cowardly at all times, and rendered doubly so by their confined position, they would have cast down their burthen and fled; but as this was impossible from the nature of the passage, they fell upon their knees with the palankeen still resting on their shoulders, and implored mercy of the armed strangers.
Little ceremony was used in reply to their supplications. The palankeen was lifted from their shoulders and taken possession of, together with its burthen, and the bearers were ordered to make the best of their way back through the passage, upon pain of summary chastisement. This was no easy matter to accomplish, as the troops followed so closely behind that several were already in the gorge. With some difficulty the passage was at length cleared; but when the guards learned what had taken place, they pushed forward to recover their charge, and in a few moments the strait was again filled. The foremost man, however, was thrust through the body with a lance the moment he reached the end of the strait.
“Advance another step,” said a voice, in a tone that showed it had been practised in command, “and you die. We are in force sufficient to slaughter you like so many wild conies coming out of a burrow. Remain patiently where you are for a few minutes, and your march shall be no further impeded.”
“Where is the palankeen?” demanded the guard.
“Where it and its gentle occupant will be well attended to. Weknow our prize. She must lack refreshment amid the rugged passes of these hills, and we are prepared to afford her a specimen of our hospitality.”
“To whom will she be indebted for this compulsive courtesy?”
“To Sevagee, the Mahratta. The Princess Rochinara will be safe in his custody. Tell the Emperor, on your return, that his daughter is with those whom he contemptuously calls ‘The Robbers of the Hills:’ but Sevajee may live to dispute with him the throne of Delhi; he therefore need not deem an alliance with the Chief of the Mahrattas a disgrace.”
By this time the party who had attacked the palankeen had dispersed, leaving only their leader, and a few followers. These, when sufficient time had been given to secure their captive, suddenly plunged into the recesses of the mountains, with most of which they were familiar, and left the troops of Aurungzebe to pursue their march, with nothing to protect but their own lives. They emerged from the glen, and in their rage at losing their sovereign’s daughter, who had been committed to their custody, they sacrificed the hamauls on the spot, determined to represent to the Emperor that the treacherous Hindoos had purposely led them into the pass, in order to betray them into the power of Sevajee. They knew Aurungzebe to be an inexorable man, and feared the consequences of making known to him the loss of his daughter, whilst under their protection. He made no allowance either for accident or contingencies. Whenever anything happened contrary to his expectations, the presumed instruments of failure were generally punished, and too frequently with the loss of life. Like all tyrants, he was without pity; and his sympathies might really be said never to be excited, save where they received their impulse from something either directly bearing upon, or collaterally allied to, his own interests.
The soldiers dreaded an interview with their sovereign, who was at that time encamped near Madura, where he daily expected his daughter to join him. She had left the Deccan for that purpose, and was passing the Ghauts, when she was captured by the daring Mahratta, as already related.
The princess was borne from her guards, and carried for some hours through the intricate windings of the hills, until at length the bearers stopped before a small mountain fortress. It was still dark, but having emerged from the lower regions of this elevated range, the gloom had considerably diminished, and near objects were sufficiently visible to render the progress of travelling tolerably certain. The princess was desired to alight from her palankeen, and being respectfully placed in a sort of basket, ingeniously woven from the husk of the cocoa-nut, was drawn up into the fortress, the entrance of which was through a low portal, terminating a narrow landing-place upon the naked side of the hill. Through this, after traversing a short passage, there was an ascent by steps into the fort, which was not extensive, containing a garrison of only sixty men.
The Princess Rochinara was ushered into a small but airy chamber; and two of her women, who had been taken with her, were allowed to attend upon their captive mistress. The princess was at this time only in her seventeenth year, of an agreeable rather than handsome person, finely formed, showy, of a healthy, vigorous constitution, and sprightly countenance. She was a great favourite of her father, and therefore not under much apprehension from her present captivity, knowing that he would immediately make an effort to rescue her from bondage, and the warlike efforts of Aurungzebe had seldom failed of being crowned with success. She knew not into whose power she had fallen, but imagined that a band of mountain robbers had captured her, and intended to retain her, merely for the sake of a liberal ransom, which she was satisfied her parent would never pay, but release her at the point of the sword.
For a day or two she saw no one but her attendants, and, having been accustomed to the seclusion of the harem, she did not find her solitude at all insupportable. One of her women, who was an adept at story-telling, and had made herself acquainted with many of the singular legends of Hindoo history, entertained her mistress by relating some of those monstrous fictions which abound in those two poetical depositories of the marvellous, theMahabarat and Ramayana. Thus the time was agreeably beguiled, until the princess became, at length, impatient to know something about her captivity, and into whose hands she had fallen. No information was to be obtained upon this interesting question. A pretty female slave daily brought the gentle captive her food, consisting of the most delicate viands and delicious fruits, but did not utter a word in reply to her questions, which only imparted a keener edge to her anxiety.
On the fourth morning after Rochinara had become an occupant of the mountain fortress, an unusual bustle announced an arrival; but nothing could be drawn from the slave when she paid her usual periodical visit; her lips appeared hermetically sealed, for not even the offer of a liberal bribe could tempt her to unclose them. Patience, therefore, was the only alternative left; and in all cases of captivity it is a cardinal virtue. The princess, however, was becoming restless;—she rejected her food—she grew petulant, and no longer listened with any relish to the tales of her favourite woman. Her eyes were often suffused with tears; but during a rather strong burst of emotion, occasioned more from the idea of being neglected than of being a captive, the door of her prison was opened, and to her surprise, not unmingled with pleasure, her captor stood before her. He was a short, compactly built man, apparently under thirty years of age. His face was round and “full-orbed,” but every feature small and highly expressive. His eye was intensely brilliant, and seemed to possess a concentration of power that could pierce through anything opposed to its gaze. Its expression was somewhat severe—restless, quick, and scrutinising; but that of every other feature was bland even to playfulness. The forehead was both high and broad, and as smooth as the surface of a mirror. There was no hair on his face, except rather a strong moustache on the upper lip, which was in perfect harmony with the true Oriental cast of his countenance. His neck, bare to the shoulder, was rather short, and as thick as that of a Thessalian bull; whilst his ample expanse of chest denoted that strengthand hardihood with which he was particularly endowed. His legs were uncovered to the knee, and modelled with a neatness and upon such an exact scale of proportion as to combine masculine beauty with that physical vigour to which true symmetry is invariably allied.
The stranger stood with his arms folded before the princess, after having made her a courteous salaam. She gazed upon him at first only without displeasure; but it was evident, by the gradual brightening of her countenance, that a more minute scrutiny produced something the very opposite of dissatisfaction. She waited several moments for the visitor to address her; but he remained silent, keeping his eyes steadily fixed upon the interesting Rochinara, as if awaiting her commands. An arch smile danced in his eye, and an occasional undulation of the upper lip showed that he was not about to play the ruffian.
“To whom,” said the princess at length, in a gentle voice, “am I indebted for the constrained hospitality to which I am forced to submit?”
“To Servajee, Chief of the Mahrattas.”
“But why is the daughter of the Emperor Aurungzebe arrested in her journey, and forced to become an occupant of this fortress?”
“Because, lady, the Mahratta chief desires to be upon a better footing with the Emperor of the Moguls, and would make the daughter a medium of alliance with the father.”
“The Princess Rochinara could never stoop to so low a degradation as to become the wife of a mountain robber.”
“You mistake lady; I am a sovereign in these mountain solitudes, and all monarchs are equal in moral rights. The name of Sevajee will be heard of among the heads of nations: for who so renowned as the founders of kingdoms? You are in my power; but I shall not use that power to win you to my purpose. I am content to woo; and assure yourself, that no woman who can look upon the sun would be degraded by becoming the wife of the Mahratta chief. Whatever you desire, express it, and your command in all things, save quitting this fortress, will be obeyed. Weshall be better acquainted; and when you know me, you may think me something nobler than a robber. We shall meet daily. Farewell!”
Making a low obeisance, with a calm smile he quitted the apartment.
FOOTNOTES:[42]Palankeen bearers.
[42]Palankeen bearers.
[42]Palankeen bearers.