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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/18307-8.txt b/18307-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2db5f59 --- /dev/null +++ b/18307-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5726 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Adventures of Akbar, by Flora Annie Steel + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Adventures of Akbar + +Author: Flora Annie Steel + +Illustrator: Byam Shaw + +Release Date: May 4, 2006 [EBook #18307] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF AKBAR *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Lybarger, Brian Janes and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Transcriber's Note: The following variant spellings used by the +author were retained as printed: Babar/Baber, Sultanum/Sultanam, +gray/grey, Allah/Alâh, meaowed/miaowed.] + + + + +THE ADVENTURES OF AKBAR + + + + +_Uniform with this Volume_ + +Price 6/-net each + + +THE SECRET GARDEN, by FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT, author of "The Shuttle," +etc., illustrated by CHARLES ROBINSON. + +THE FOUR GARDENS, by "HANDASYDE," illustrated by CHARLES ROBINSON. + +ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND, by LEWIS CARROLL, illustrated by +ARTHUR RACKHAM. + +ÆSOP'S FABLES, translated by V. S. VERNON JONES, with an introduction by +G. K. CHESTERTON, illustrated by ARTHUR RACKHAM. + + +LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN +21, BEDFORD STREET, W.C. + + + + +[Illustration: _On a shelving bank of dry sand Baby Akbar sitting up and +rubbing his eyes._] + + + + +THE ADVENTURES OF AKBAR + +by + +FLORA ANNIE STEEL + +ILLUSTRATED BY BYAM SHAW + + +LONDON · WILLIAM HEINEMANN · 1913 + +_All rights reserved_ + + + + +A DEDICATION + + + Oft when the house lay silent in the heat + My thoughts would be so full of you, my sweet, + That dreaming half--I seemed to hear once more + Your little fingers fluttering at the door, + The pitter patter of your childish feet + In joyous rhythm cross the echoing floor. + + Then small, soft hands would nestle into mine, + And warm soft arms around my neck would twine, + As soft and warm the dream child on my knees, + Cuddling so close in clear young voice would tease + And tease and tease in mimicked glad young whine + For "Just one little story if you please." + + So half in jest and half in earnest, too, + Mostly I think to dream my dreaming true, + I'd conjure up long tales of lands afar + And days gone by that yet remembered are; + Shaping my stories with this end in view + To gain the verdict "Tell some more, Mamma." + + For I was happy when I had beguiled + Into my life the spirit of a child. + Thus one by one the weary hours flew + And page by page a little volume grew, + So--that my dreams with truth be reconciled, + Take it, my darling, it was writ for you. + + _April, 1875_ + + Long years have sped since that poor book was penned. + None read the pages. Therefore at the end + Of this world's life I dedicate to two + Small boys--her sons--whose question'ng eyes of blue + Tell me that dreams of childhood never end + _This_ book. So take it boys--'twas writ for you. + + _1911_ + + + + +PREFACE + + +This book is written for all little lads and lasses, but especially for +the former, since it is the true--_quite_ true--story of a little lad +who lived to be, perhaps, the greatest king this world has ever seen. + +It is a strange, wild tale this of the adventures of Prince Akbar among +the snowy mountains between Kandahâr and Kâbul, and though the names may +be a bit of a puzzle at first, as they will have to be learned by and +bye in geography and history lessons, it might be as well to get +familiar with them in a story-book; though, indeed, as everybody in it +except Roy the Râjput, Meroo the cook boy; Tumbu, the dog; and Down, the +cat (and these four _may_ have been true, you know, though they have not +been remembered) really lived, I don't know whether this book oughtn't +to be considered real history, and therefore + +A LESSON BOOK + +Anyhow, I hope you won't find it dull. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE +PREFACE + +CHAPTER I +FAREWELL 1 + +CHAPTER II +THE FIRST VICTORY 11 + +CHAPTER III +THE ROYAL UMBRELLA 20 + +CHAPTER IV +TUMBU-DOWN 27 + +CHAPTER V +ON THE ROAD 39 + +CHAPTER VI +AT COURT 50 + +CHAPTER VII +WINTER 58 + +CHAPTER VIII +DOWN'S STRATAGEM 68 + +CHAPTER IX +SPRING 77 + +CHAPTER X +THE NIGHT OF RECORD 88 + +CHAPTER XI +A WINTER MARCH 100 + +CHAPTER XII +SNOW AND ICE 109 + +CHAPTER XIII +OVER THE PASS 119 + +CHAPTER XIV +IN THE VALLEY 128 + +CHAPTER XV +DEAREST-LADY 138 + +CHAPTER XVI +CRUEL BROTHER KUMRAN 147 + +CHAPTER XVII +IMPRISONMENT 159 + +CHAPTER XVIII +THE GARDEN OF GAMES 169 + +CHAPTER XIX +BETWIXT CUP AND LIP 178 + +CHAPTER XX +ESCAPED 187 + +CHAPTER XXI +DAWN 196 + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + +ON A SHELVING BANK OF DRY SAND BABY AKBAR + SITTING UP AND RUBBING HIS EYES _Frontispiece_ + + _To face page_ + +PRINCE ASKURRY ... STRODE ... INTO THE TENT 16 + +THE CHILD HAD SLIPPED IT ONTO HIS LITTLE FOREFINGER 62 + +SO THEY BOTH TOUCHED THE COLD MARBLE FLOOR WITH THEIR + WARM LITTLE FOREHEADS 98 + +AHEAD OF THEM, A SHADOW SHOWED, A SHAMBLING SHADOW! + TUMBU ... WITH A BOUND WAS OFF FULL TILT AFTER IT 126 + +AND ONE DAY THE DOOR DID OPEN.... "MY SON--MY LITTLE SON!" 166 + +"LADIES! UNVEIL!" 176 + +"I STAY MY HAND WHILE I COUNT TEN--NO MORE" 198 + + + + +CHAPTER I + +FAREWELL + + +_Bismillah Al-la-hu Akbar!_ + +These queer-looking, queer-sounding words, which in Arabic mean "thanks +be to God," were shrilled out at the very top of Head-nurse's voice. Had +she been in a room they would have filled it and echoed back from the +walls; for she was a big, deep-chested woman. But she was only in a +tent; a small tent, which had been pitched in a hurry in an +out-of-the-way valley among the low hills that lead from the wide plains +of India to Afghanistan. For Head-nurse's master and mistress, King +Humâyon and Queen Humeeda, with their thirteen months' old little son, +Prince Akbar, were flying for their lives before their enemies. And +these enemies were led by Humâyon's own brothers, Prince Kumran, Askurry +and Hindal. It is a long story, and a sad story, too, how Humâyon, so +brave, so clever, so courteous, fell into misfortune by his own fault, +and had to fly from his beautiful palaces at Delhi and wander for years, +pursued like a hare, amid the sandy deserts and pathless plains of +Western India. And now, as a last resource, his followers dwindled to a +mere handful, he was making a desperate effort to escape over the +Persian border and claim protection at the hands of Persia's King. + +So the poor tent was ragged and out at elbows, for all that it was made +of costly Kashmir shawls, and that its poles were silver-gilt. + +But Head-nurse's "Thanks be to God!" came from a full heart. + +"What is it? What _is_ it?" called an anxious voice from behind the +curtain which divided the tent in two. + +"What?" echoed Head-nurse in high glee. "Only this: His Imperial +Highness, Prince Akbar, the Admired-of-the-World, the Source-of-Dignity, +the Most-Magnificent-Person-of-the-Period--" She went on, after her +wont, rolling out all the titles that belonged of right to the little +Prince, until the soft, anxious voice lost patience and called again, +"Have done--have done; what is it? Heaven save he hath not been in +danger." + +Head-nurse, stopped in her flow of fine words, sniffed contemptuously. +"Danger! with me to guard him? No! 'Tis that the High-in-Pomp hath cut +his first real back tooth! He can eat meat! He has come to man's estate! +He is no longer dependent upon milk diet." Here she gave a withering +glance at the gentle looking woman who was Baby Akbar's wet-nurse, who, +truth to tell, was looking just a little sad at the thought that her +nursling would soon leave her consoling arms. + +"Heavens!" exclaimed the voice from within, "say you so?" And the next +instant the curtain parted, and there was Queen Humeeda, Baby Akbar's +mother, all smiling and eager. + +Now, if you want to know what she was like, you must just think of your +own dearest dear mummie. At least that was what she seemed to little +Prince Akbar, who, at the sight of her, held out his little fat arms and +crowed, "Amma! Amma!" Now, this, you will observe, is only English +"Ma-Ma" arranged differently; from which you may guess that English and +Indian children are really very much alike. + +And Queen Humeeda took the child and kissed him and hugged him just as +any English mother would have done. Head-nurse, however, was not a bit +satisfied with this display of affection. That would have been the +portion of any ordinary child, and Baby Akbar was more than that: he was +the heir apparent to the throne of India! If he had only been in the +palaces that belonged to him, instead of in a miserable tent, there +would have been ceremonials and festivities and fireworks over this +cutting of a tooth! Aye! _Certainly_ fireworks. But how could one keep +up court etiquette when royalty was flying for its life? Impossible! +Why, even her determination that, come what might, a royal umbrella must +be held over the blessed infant during their perilous journeys had very +nearly led to his being captured! + +Despite this recollection, as she listened impatiently to the cooings +and gurglings, she turned over in her mind what she could do to +commemorate the occasion. And when pretty Queen Humeeda (thinking of her +husband, the king, who, with his few followers, had ridden off to see if +a neighboring chief would help them) said, "This will be joyful news +wherewith to cheer my lord on his return," Head-nurse's irritation found +voice. + +"That is all very well," she cried. "So it would be to any +common father of any common child, Your Royal Highness! This one +is the Admired-of-the-Whole-World, the Source-of-Dignity, the +Most-Magnificent-Person-of-the-Period----" + +And she went on rolling out queer guttural Arabic titles till +Foster-mother implored her to be silent or she would frighten the child. +Could she not see the look on the darling's face? + +For Baby Akbar was indeed listening to something with his little finger +up to command attention. But it was not to Head-nurse's thunderings, but +to the first long, low growl of a coming storm that outside the +miserable tent was turning the distant hills to purple and darkening the +fast-fading daylight. + +"Frighten?" echoed Head-nurse in derision. "The son of Humâyon the +heroic, the grandson of Baber the brave could never be frightened at +anything!" + +And in truth the little lad was not a bit afraid, even when a distant +flash of lightning glimmered through the dusk. + +"Heavens!" cried gentle Queen Humeeda, "his Majesty will be drenched to +the skin ere he returns." She was a brave woman, but the long, long +strain of daily, hourly danger was beginning to tell on her health, and +the knowledge that even this coming storm was against them brought the +tears to her eyes. + +"Nay! Nay! my royal mistress," fussed Head-nurse, who, in spite of her +love of pomp, was a kind-hearted, good woman, "this must not be on such +an auspicious day. It must be celebrated otherwise, and for all we are +so poor, we can yet have ceremonial. When the child was born were we not +in direst danger? Such danger that all his royal father could do in +honor of the glad event was to break a musk-bag before his faithful +followers as sign that the birth of an heir to empire would diffuse +itself like perfume through the whole world? Even so now, and if I +cannot devise some ceremony, then am I no Head-nurse!" + +So saying she began to bustle around, and ere long even poor, unhappy +Queen Humeeda began to take an interest in the proceedings. + +A mule trunk, after being ransacked for useful odds and ends, was put in +a corner and covered with a worn satin quilt. This must do for a throne. +And a strip of red muslin wound about the little gold-embroidered skull +cap Baby Akbar wore must, with the heron's plume from his father's +state turban, make a monarch of the child. + +In truth he looked very dignified indeed, standing on the mule trunk, +his little legs very wide apart, his little crimson silk trousers very +baggy, his little green brocade waistcoat buttoned tight over his little +fat body, and, trailing from his shoulders in great stiff folds, his +father's state cloth-of-gold coatee embroidered with seed pearls. + +So, as he always wore great gold bracelets on his little fat arms, and +great gold jingling anklets fringing his little fat feet, he looked very +royal indeed. Very royal and large and calm, for he was a grave baby +with big, dark, piercing eyes and a decided chin. + +"He is as like his grandfather as two splits of a pea!" cried Head-nurse +in rapture, and then she went to the tent door and shrilled out: + +"Slaves! Quick! Come and perform your lowly salute on the occasion of +the cutting of a back tooth belonging to the Heir-to-Empire, the +Most----" + +She cut short her string of titles, for a crash of thunder overhead +warned her she had best be speedy before the rain soaked through the +worn tent. + +"Quick, slaves!" she added; "keep us not waiting all day. Enter and +prostrate yourselves on the ground with due reverence! Quick! Quick!" + +She need not have been in such a hurry, for it did not take long for the +"slaves," as she called them, to perform their lowly salaam by touching +the very ground with their foreheads. There were but three of them--Old +Faithful, the trooper; Roy, the Râjput boy; and Meroo, the scullion; the +rest were away with their master, King Humâyon. + +Old Faithful, however, tall, lank, grey-bearded, brought enough devotion +for half a dozen followers. He had served with little Akbar's +grandfather, Babar the brave, and when he saw the child standing so fair +and square, he gave almost a sharp cry of remembrance and delight. And +when he stood up after his prostration, in soldier fashion he held out +the hilt of his old sword for the baby to touch in token that its +service was accepted. Queen Humeeda, who stood beside her little son, +guided his fat fingers to the sword; but at the very moment a vivid +flash of lightning made her give a shriek and cover her face with her +hands. But little Prince Akbar having got a hold of the hilt, would not +let go. And to Old Faithful's huge delight he pulled and pulled till the +sword came out of the scabbard. + +"An omen! An omen!" cried the old man. "Like his grandfather, he will +fight battles ere he be twelve!" + +Then there was Roy, the Râjput lad, whom the royal fugitives had found +half dead from sunstroke in the wide, sandy Râjputana deserts, and whom, +with their customary kindness, they had succoured and befriended, +putting him on as a sort of page boy to the little Heir-to-Empire. He +was a tall, slim lad for his twelve years, was Roy, with a small, +well-set head and a keen, well-cut face. And his eyes! They were like a +deer's--large, brown, soft, but with a flash in them at times. + +For the sunstroke which had so nearly killed the lad had left his mind a +little confused. As yet he could remember nothing of what had happened +to him before it, and could not even recollect who he was, or anything +save that his name was Roy. But every now and again he would say +something or do something which would make those around him look +surprised, and wonder who he could have been to know such things and +have such manners. + +After him came Meroo, the misshapen cook-boy. He was an odd fellow, all +long limbs and broad smiles, who, when his time arrived, shambled +forward, cast himself in lowliest reverence full length on the ground +and blubbered out his delight--now that the princely baby could really +eat--at being able to supply all sorts of toothsome stews full of onions +and green ginger, to say nothing of watermelons and sugar cane. These +things, strange to say, being to little Indian children very much what +chocolate creams and toffee are to English ones. + +So far all had gone well, and now there only remained one more salute to +be made. But little Adam, who was Head-nurse's own son, and who had +hitherto been Baby Akbar's playmate, refused absolutely to do as he was +bid. He was a short, sturdy boy of five, and nothing would induce him to +go down on his knees and touch the ground with his forehead. In vain +Meroo, the cook-boy, promised him sweets if he would only obey orders; +in vain Old Faithful spoke of a ride on his old war-horse, and Roy, who +was a most wonderful story-teller, promised him the best of all, +Bopuluchi. In vain his mother, losing patience at such a terrible piece +of indecorum, rushed at him and cuffed him soundly. He only howled and +kicked. + +And then suddenly Baby Akbar, who had been listening with a solemn face, +brought his little bare foot down on the mule trunk with such a stamp +that the golden anklets jingled and jangled, and his little forefinger +went up over his head in the real Eastern attitude of royal command. + +"Salute, slave, salute," he said with a tremendous dignity. And there +was something so comical about the little mite of a child, something so +masterful in the tiny figure, something so commanding in the loud, +deep-toned baby voice, that every one laughed, and somehow or other Adam +forgot his obstinacy and made his obeisance like a good boy. + +And then once more pretty Queen Humeeda hugged and kissed her little +son, and all the rest applauded him, and made so much of him that he +began to think he had done something very fine indeed, and crowed and +clapped his hands in delight. + +But the merriment did not last long, for there was a clatter of horses +and swords outside the tent. + +"My husband!" cried Queen Humeeda in a flutter. "What news does my lord +bring?" + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE FIRST VICTORY + + +The next moment a tall, handsome man entered the tent; but one look at +his pale, anxious face was enough to tell those inside that the news was +bad. So for an instant there was silence; and in the silence, with a +deafening roar and a blinding blaze of blue light, came a terrific crash +of thunder followed by a sudden fierce pelt of hail upon the taut tent +roof. + +It sent a shiver through the listeners. They felt that the storm had +broken indeed upon their heads, that danger was close beside them. + +Then the King stepped to his wife's side and took her hand, and as he +spoke there was a sob in his breath as of an animal who after a long +chase finds himself at last driven to bay. + +"Come!" he said briefly, "there may yet be a chance for us. My horse, +weary though it be, will suffice for thy light weight. In the mountains +lies possible safety. Come! There is not a moment to lose." + +"But--but the child--" faltered the Queen. + +King Humâyon's voice failed him. He could not speak for a moment; but he +shook his head. + +"I will not leave the child--" began the wretched mother. "My lord! thou +canst not have the heart----" + +"It is his only chance--" interrupted the poor King, his face full of +grief and anger, of bitter, bitter regret--"His only chance of life! In +the mountains yonder, with winter snow upon us, lies certain death for +one so young. Were we to stay with him here, he would find death with +us--for my brother Askurry is close behind us. But if we are gone, God +knows, but he might spare the child. Askurry is not all unkind, and the +little lad favors my father so much that his blessed memory may be +safeguard. God send it so. It is his best chance, his only chance. So +come----" + +"I cannot! I cannot!" moaned the poor mother distractedly. + +"There is no other way, sweetheart!" said the King, "so be brave, little +mother, and come for thy son's sake. He will be safer here than with +thee. Come! trusting in God's mercy for the child. And come quickly +while the darkness of the storm shrouds our going." + +Then he looked round on those others--Head-nurse, Wet-nurse, Old +Faithful, Roy the Râjput, and Meroo the cook-boy--not much of a +bodyguard for the young prince, and yet, since force would be useless, +perhaps as good as any other, if they had a head between them. But the +nurses were women, Faithful nothing but an old soldier, and the two +others were mere boys. Some one else must be left. Who? Then he +remembered Foster-father, Foster-mother's husband. He was the man. +Solid, sober, clear-headed. So, as Queen Humeeda was being hurriedly +wrapped in a shawl by the two weeping nurses, he gave them a few +directions. They were to stay where they were, no matter what happened, +until Foster-father returned from showing the fugitives a path he knew +to the mountains, and then---- + +King Humâyon could say no more. Only as, after a hurried, tearless, +hopeless farewell to his little son, he paused at the tent door to take +a last look, his half-fainting wife in his arms, he said suddenly in a +sharp, loud voice: + +"Remember! In your charge lies the safety of the Heir-to-Empire." + +The words sank into the very hearts of those who stood watching the +group of hurrying figures making its way rapidly toward the hills. + +"Pray Heaven," muttered Old Faithful anxiously, "that they be over the +rise before those who follow see them." + +So they stood fearfully watching, watching. And Heaven was kind, for +though one great blue blaze of lightning showed the fugitives clear +against the sky line, when the next came there was nothing but the +rugged rocks. + +Then for the first time Baby Akbar, who had been silent in his nurses' +arms, watching with the rest, lifted up his deep-toned baby voice: + +"Daddy, Amma," he said contentedly, "gone up in a 'ky." + +Whereupon Foster-mother wept loudly and prayed that good angels might +protect her darling. + +But Head-nurse was more practical, and set about considering how best +that safety might be secured. Who was there who could help? No one of +much use, truly, though every one was brimful of devotion and ready to +give his or her life for the Heir-to-Empire. + +"I will kill the first man who dares--" began Old Faithful. + +"Aye! The first! But how about the last, old man?" interrupted +Head-nurse. "Force will be of no avail. Askurry hath half an army with +him." + +"Harm shall only come to the child through my body," wept Foster-mother, +whereat Head-nurse laughed scornfully. + +"Woman's flesh is a poor shield, fool! God send we find better +protection than thy carcass." + +"Boo! hoo!" blubbered Meroo the cook-boy. "Lo! Head-nurse! I could kill +a whole army by poisoning their suppers." + +Head-nurse nodded faint approval. "Now, there is some sense in that, +scullion, but what about that they may do supperless? If they should +dare----" + +"They will not dare," said a clear, sharp voice, and Roy the Râjput lad +stepped forward, a light in his great eyes. "My mother used to say, +'Fear not! A king's son is a king's son always, so be that he forgets +not kingship.'" + +Head-nurse stood puzzled for a second, then she caught the meaning of +the lad's words, for she was a clever, capable woman, and had all a +woman's quickness. + +"Thou art right, my lad," she said slowly, looking curiously at Roy, +from whose face the flash of memory seemed to have passed. "Thou art +right. In royalty lies safety. The Heir-to-Empire must receive his +enemies as a King! Quick! slaves! Close the tent door and let us bring +forth all we have, and make all things as regal as we can. There is no +time to lose." + +And they did not lose any. The result being that when, quarter of an +hour afterward, Prince Askurry, bitterly disappointed at finding that +his real quarry, the King and Queen, had escaped, strode with some of +his followers into the tent where he was told Baby Akbar was to be +found, he paused at the door, first in astonishment and then in +amusement. + +It was really rather a pretty picture which he saw. To begin with the +tent had been lit up with the little rushlight lamps they call in India +_chiraghs_--tiny saucers which can be made of mud in which a cotton wick +floats in a few drops of oil--and a row of these outlined the mule trunk +throne. Then Meroo's misshapen limbs had been hidden under a chain +corselet and helmet, so he made quite a respectable fellow to Old +Faithful, as the two supporters stood bolt upright with drawn swords one +on either side, while beneath them, on the ragged old Persian carpet +which had been spread to hide the dirty tent drugget, crouched +Head-nurse and Foster-mother, their faces veiled with their best gold +embroidered veils. + +A great pile of cushions had been placed on the muletrunk, and in the +centre of these sat Baby Akbar, the Royal heron's plume of his turban +waving gently in the breeze caused by the slow dignified sweep of the +Royal fan which Roy, who stood behind his young master, was swinging +backwards and forwards. + +But it was not the prettiness of the picture which made Prince Askurry +pause. It was the child's open fearless face which reminded him at +once--as King Humâyon had hoped it might--of that dear, beloved father +whose memory, even in their worst wickednesses, was ever a good +influence in the lives of his sons. Babar the Brave! Babar of the +Generous Heart! the Kindly Smile! Who could forget him? + +But behind Prince Askurry were others who did not remember; who were +eager to kill and have done with Humâyon and his son for ever. + +And when they saw Prince Askurry pause, they were quick with advice. + +"It is unwise to spare snakes' spawn," said one. + +[Illustration: _Prince Askurry ... strode ... into the tent._] + +"The boy is father to the man," said another. "He who is wise kills +young rats as well as old ones." + +And still Prince Askurry paused while poor Head-nurse and Wet-nurse went +sick with fear under their veils at what might be going to happen, and +Old Faithful's hand clasped the hilt of his sword tighter, since come +what may he meant to strike one blow for his young master. But Roy's +keen eyes showed--as the peacock's feather fan swept past them backwards +and forwards--like a hawk's as it hovers above a partridge. There was in +them a defiance, a certainty that victory must come. + +Suddenly a wicked laugh filled the tent. "Peace! brothers," said a +sneering voice, "Prince Askurry prefers to leave the snake to fight with +his own son in the future." + +The taunt told. It was true! Better to scotch the snake now, than to +leave it to be dangerous by and by; dangerous perhaps to his own little +son who was but a few years older than Baby Akbar. + +Prince Askurry strode forward drawn sword in hand; but whether he really +meant to use it or not cannot be told, for a very strange thing +happened. Baby Akbar had been listening to the fierce voices just as he +had listened to the angry voices when Adam had refused to salute. And +now he saw some one before him who appeared to have no intention--as +Adam had no intention--of making his reverence; so, remembering the +fine thing he had done when the latter had been naughty, up went the +little hand again, and once more the loud, deep, baby voice said +imperiously: + +"Salute! Slave! salute!" + +The words were barely uttered when by pure chance Prince Askurry's foot +caught in the ragged carpet, and----? + +And down he came flat as a pancake on the floor in the very lowliest +salute that ever was made! + +The next moment, however, he sat up, half-stunned, and looked wrathfully +at his little nephew. + +But Baby Akbar's honest open face was full of grieved sympathy. + +"Poor, poor!" he said, shaking his quaintly crowned head, "tumbu down. +Nanna kiss it, make it well." + +Prince Askurry sat stupidly staring for a moment or two. Then the memory +of many a childish hurt cured by like gracious offer from his father +came back to him, making his heart soft. He sprang to his feet and waved +by his councillors to cruelty. + +"Go, my lords!" he cried fiercely. "Go seek the King who is no true King +if ye will, and kill him. But this boy goes with me to Kandahâr; the +stuff of which he is made counts for life, not for death." + +Then with a sudden generous impulse, for he was at heart his father's +son, he held the hilt of his drawn sword in token of vassalage for Baby +Akbar to touch. + +And the child, clever, observant beyond his years, remembering how his +mother had guided his fingers to Old Faithful's weapon, put out his +little hand solemnly and touched it. + +Behind their close-folded veils Head-nurse and Wet-nurse wept for joy. +And the old trooper's grip relaxed and the hard relentless look faded +from Roy's face. + +For here was safety, for a while at any rate, for the Heir-to-Empire. + +He, and Fate between them, had won his first victory. No! his second, +since the first had been the conquering of Adam's obstinacy. + +But for that Baby Akbar might not have behaved with such dignity. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE ROYAL UMBRELLA + + +That night even Roy the Râjput, who as a rule woke every hour to see to +his little master's safety, slept sound. And so did the others, though +they sat up till Foster-father crept in to the tent about midnight, +after having seen the Royal Fugitives safely over the Persian border. Of +course, there was nothing but miles on miles of snowy mountains before +them, nothing but long struggle and privation to be hoped for; still +they were out of India, out of an enemy's country. For which Heaven be +thanked! + +So they wrapped themselves in their quilts and lay down to rest with +hearts eased for the time of immediate anxiety. + +Head-nurse, however, began at once, after her wont, to make plans for +resuming some of the courtly ways which hurry had made impossible. The +gold embroidered royal red umbrella was one thing she was determined to +have. + +But who was to hold it over the Royal Infant? Roy would get tired of it +during a long march. He was but a boy; and after all there should be a +Deputy, Assistant, Second, Umbrella Bearer to Majesty. + +Could Meroo, properly dressed, of course, be promoted to the position? + +She actually woke Foster-father from his well-earned first sleep to +propound this knotty question. + +"Good woman," he murmured patiently, "make what court appointments ye +will. Create the scullion Prime Minister, so I have my sleep." + +And he was snoring almost before the words were out of his mouth. + +So next morning Head-nurse, refusing the baggage camel with panniers +which Prince Askurry sent for the use of the little Heir-to-Empire, +organised a procession of her own. + +First of all came Foster-father, stout and solid, on his skew-bald hill +pony which was called Horse-chestnut because it was patched all over, +like an unripe chestnut, with yellow, brown and white. + +It had a lovely tail that touched the ground, and a coat that was long +and wavy like an Irish setter's. A wise, sober pony was Horse-chestnut; +he never attempted to climb up anything he thought too difficult, but +just gave a look at it to make sure and then put down his head calmly, +and began to graze until his rider found an easier path. + +Next came Trooper Faithful on his old white charger Lightning. Once upon +a time it had been like its name, swift exceedingly, but now, like its +master, it was slow and stiff. + +Then followed Head-nurse, astride, in Indian fashion, the bay Belooch +mare which had been Queen Humeeda's favourite mount until it had had to +be left behind in one of the hasty moves which had of late been so +common in the hunted life of the Royal Fugitives. The mare, of course, +had been taken by the pursuers, and brought along with them; and the +groom in charge of it had come grinning with delight to Foster-father +when he found himself in the same camp again. Foster-father was for +riding the bay mare himself and giving sober Horse-chestnut to the +Heir-to-Empire, but Head-nurse would not hear of this. The bay mare was, +she said, altogether more royal. So there she was, with Baby Akbar +astride a cushion in front, perched on the skittish creature, feeling at +heart very nervous, for she was but a poor rider. However, she held on +very tight with one hand, held Baby Akbar still tighter with the other, +and trusted to Providence, while Roy and Meroo ran beside her on either +side, alternately holding up the Royal Umbrella as best they could. + +Foster-mother on a mule, with little Adam perched in front of her +brought up the rear of the procession. It was a poor one for progress +even along the levels, because of the bay mare's fidgeting and +caperings, but when the steep hill sides were reached it became +impossible to keep up with the rest of the equipage. So Prince Askurry +and his men pushed on ahead leaving the little party alone, since escape +was impossible on that wild mountain road, especially with the rear +guard of the camp coming a few miles behind them. And, indeed, if such +an idea had entered the heads of any of the party it must soon have fled +before the difficulty of getting along at all. It was a steep zig-zag +path, and looking upwards you could see it zigging and zagging right +away to the sky line. Poor Foster-mother, who came last, could not take +her eyes off it, for the bends immediately above her were filled with +the most terrifying sights. First her stout husband, who seemed to be in +the act of slipping over Horse-chestnut's tail. On the next Old +Faithful, driven to dismounting and laboriously lugging Lightning up by +the bridle. But the last zig-zag in front of her called forth piercing +shrieks. For the bay mare, not having been ridden for some time, was +full of beans. Baby Akbar insisted on holding the reins, and Meroo, +whose turn it was to hold the umbrella, _would_ slip and slither among +the stones, thereby bringing its fringe right on the bay mare's nose. + +"Oh! Head-nurse, have a care! The blessed child!" shrieked poor +Foster-mother as a more than usually bad stumble sent the umbrella on to +the mare's tail. + +This was too much for it. Frightened out of its senses, it gave a +frenzied bound forwards, then rearing straight up, hung over the edge of +the path, as if it meant to take a downward plunge. + +All seemed lost! Foster-father and Faithful stood petrified with +despair. Meroo would have dashed forward to catch at the rein but Roy, +knowing with that curious instinct of his, that that would only make +matters worse, as it would still further frighten the mare, held him +back by main force. The only person who was not spellbound with fear was +Baby Akbar. He thought it a fine joke that his mount should stand up on +its hind legs and paw the air. So he shrieked with delight, and dropped +the reins to clap his hands, as he always did when he was pleased. Now +this was the very best thing he, or anybody else, could have done. The +mare, feeling herself free, thought better of it, and wheeling round +dropped her fore feet on the path once more. + +Foster-father's loud Arabic thanksgiving ended in an equally loud order. +"Get off the mare, woman. Horse-chestnut is the only mount thou art fit +for. Roy! carry that foolish umbrella behind." + +"In front--the emblems are ever carried in front," protested Head-nurse +feebly. + +"I said behind," was all the answer she got, and behind it went while +they toiled up and up. + +After a while the road became surprisingly bad; nothing in fact but a +watercourse, and Foster-father began to doubt if they could be on the +right way. Possibly, when they were all excited over the mare's bad +behaviour, they had taken a wrong turning. But as the path led ever +upwards, he judged it better to go on, though it was terribly hard work. +Every moment the road became worse and worse until it ceased to be more +than a mere ladder of rocks which puzzled even Horse-chestnut. More than +once he stopped dead and would no doubt have refused any further attempt +to climb had there been anything at which to graze. But there was +nothing; nothing but rocks. So, after a pause he made the best of a bad +bargain, raised himself on his hind legs, sought a foothold for his fore +feet in some crevice, and then scrambled up. Only the two children +enjoyed themselves, Baby Akbar laughing with delight and clapping his +hands over all the slips and slitherings which even nimble +Horse-chestnut made, and which reduced Head-nurse and Wet-nurse to +piteous wails to Roy not for Heaven's sake to let go of the +Heir-to-Empire's baggy trousers. And Adam enjoyed himself, also, running +on in front and making snowballs in the drifts which, ere long, were to +be seen sheltering from the sun in the clefts of the rocks. + +The sight of them made Foster-father frown. "We go too high," he said. +"Heaven send we have not to climb to a higher pass." + +His remark made Head-nurse give way altogether. She wept loudly, saying +in that case she had better stay and die where she was, thus saving them +the trouble of carrying her down the hill. + +At that very moment, however, Adam who had run far ahead began waving +his arms and shouting: + +"He says 'The top! the top!'" cried Roy, who was keen in hearing as in +everything else. "Courage, mother! our troubles are over!" + +They had not _quite_ ended, but in a few minutes more they had reached +the beginning of the pass proper. Before them lay a grassy boggy slope +curling gently upwards between higher rockier slopes. A little stream +plashed softly adown it, through a perfect wilderness of flowers, and +without one word the tired travellers threw themselves beside it for +rest and refreshment. + +But Baby Akbar looked a little troubled. + +"Amma, Dadda 'way 'way in a 'ky," he said solemnly, and essayed to crawl +on over the grass. For he could not walk yet, though he spoke so well. +They say he began to talk when he was nine months old. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +TUMBU-DOWN + + +After a while the party started on their way once more feeling greatly +brisked up. But the heat of the day was now upon them, and though the +snow lay close beside the path, the fierce sun melting it made the +vapour rise and turned the narrow valley into a regular steam bath. + +The perspiration ran down the travellers' faces and especially down poor +Head-nurse's; for she had insisted on taking off her veil to twist it +turbanwise round Baby Akbar's head since the Royal Umbrella was +forbidden. Foster-mother had tried to take off hers also, but Head-nurse +had angrily forbidden her to do any such thing. If she, Head-nurse, died +of sunstroke what matter, but if Foster-mother failed, what--even though +one back tooth had been gloriously cut--would become of the +Heir-to-Empire, the Admired-of-the-World, the Great-in-Pomp, etc.? + +So, to comfort herself she went on mumbling titles as she struggled +along, the sun beating fiercely on her bare head. Such a quaint head, +with sleek black hair parted and plaited and hung with jewels, even down +the long pigtail of brown wool that was added on to the back to make the +hair look more plentiful. + +It was a piteous sight and Foster-mother was so conscious of the +devotion it meant that she said "Lo! Head-nurse, thou art a good, good +soul though a hard one to me; but I will never, never, never, forget +this day." + +"Nor I," groaned Head-nurse, "but 'tis for the Heir-to-Empire." + +It was a full hour before the slope ended in a level bog, on the other +side of which began a visible descent. Then in the angled hills a blue +shadow began to rise, telling of a valley below them. + +"Bismillah!" (Thanks be to God) cried Foster-father piously. And every +one echoed the remark except Baby Akbar. He turned round and looked back +at the snowy peaks which were beginning to show behind them. + +"Amma, Dadda 'way 'way mountains," he said regretfully and his little +mouth went down as for a cry, when everybody's attention was distracted +by the sudden appearance of a huge furry black dog which came bounding +down the hill side, its big white teeth gleaming as it uttered shrill, +sharp, growling barks. + +Head-nurse and Foster-mother shrieked with fright, little Adam ran like +a hare for the shelter of his mother's petticoats, and Meroo the +cook-boy, remembering his bare legs--for like all Indian scullions he +wore short cotton drawers--squatted down where he was standing, in order +to protect them. Even Roy, brave boy that he was, looked uncomfortable, +and both Foster-father and Old Faithful whipped out their swords. + +These were not needed, however, for the next instant a wild-looking +figure clad in a brown blanket started up from behind a rock and shouted +to the dog. It stopped instantly, but stood still--snarling, though +obedient. + +It was the funniest looking dog you can imagine. Bigger than a big +collie, it was furry all over even to its tail. And it was black as ink. +In fact with its tiny prick ears and small sharp pointed muzzle all lost +in a huge soft black ruff and nothing to be seen but red tongue, white +teeth and beady black eyes, it was a regular golliwog of a dog. + +When Foster-father saw the man in the brown blanket, who from his crook +was evidently a shepherd, he heaved a sigh of relief. "Now," he said, +"we shall be able to find out our way." + +But he was mistaken. The man did not understand a word they said, +neither could they understand a word he said. + +Head-nurse was in despair. "He speaks like a ghost of the desert," she +wept. "We shall all die of starvation before he understands." + +"Die?" echoed Foster-father stoutly. "Not so, woman! There is one +language all understand." + +Whereupon he placed himself right in front of the shepherd, opened his +mouth wide and then shook his head. Next he pointed to his stomach and +shook his head again. Finally he began to chew violently, rubbed his +stomach and grinned. + +The shepherd grinned too and rubbed _his_ stomach, whereupon +Foster-father turned triumphantly to Head-nurse. + +"Said I not sooth, woman," he asked. "Hunger hath a tongue of its own, +and all men know it." + +Once begun, signs soon brought so much understanding, that, whistling to +his dog, the shepherd started down the hill at a great pace, beckoning +them to follow. + +"Not so fast, friend, not so fast!" panted Foster-father, "we be not all +born on a mountain as thou art. And there are women and children, too." +He pointed to poor Head-nurse and Foster-mother, who were indeed +dropping with fatigue, and the man seemed to understand, for he pulled +up. But he had to keep some way off because his dog, who kept close as a +shadow to his master's heels, never ceased growling. So they tramped on +wearily until just below them they saw a _marg_ or mountain upland, +where some goats were grazing. One part of this dipped down into a +little valley, and there, in the shelter of some huge rocks, they saw +two or three small brown blanket tents, such as shepherds use on the +Beluchistan hills. They were just like waggon tilts only not so large. + +Here, at any rate, was prospect of food and rest, and the poor +travellers brisked up again. But alas! between them and the tents lay a +formidable obstacle. Nothing less than a birch-twig bridge over a +rushing stream which filled up the bottom of a wide rift or chasm in the +upland. This chasm stretched right across the upland from a steep rock +which blocked up the head of the little valley, and out of which the +stream gushed, and there was no way of crossing it, so the shepherd +explained by signs, except the birch-twig bridge. Now a birch-twig +bridge is a very terrifying thing to anybody who is not accustomed to +them. It is simply a strong flat plait of birch twigs about nine inches +wide which is flung from one side to the other, and which, of course, +droops and sags like a rope in the middle. Into this plait are stuck +every few feet or so cross sticks, and to these sticks a rope is +fastened as a sort of hand rail. Across such a bridge as this the hill +children walk as easily as an English child does over a great brick +span; but Head-nurse resolutely refused to set foot over it herself, +much less to allow the Heir-to-Empire to risk his neck on such an +appallingly dangerous structure. In vain Foster-father, in order to set +a good example, allowed himself to be led over by the shepherd with his +eyes carefully bandaged lest he should get giddy in the middle by +looking down. As a matter of fact, this only made Head-nurse more +frightened, for, of course, the bridge swung and swayed with the weight +of the men on it. She would sooner, she declared, try to climb Heaven on +a rainbow! That was at least steady. Roy tried to hearten her up by +walking over himself with open eyes, though he felt frightfully dizzy +and had to fling himself flat on the grass to recover when he did get +over. Then Meroo, blubbering loudly that he was going to his death for +his young master, climbed up on the shepherd's back and allowed himself +to be carried over just to show how easy it was. + +It was all in vain! Head-nurse was firm. They must bring the tents to +the Heir-to-Empire; the Heir-to-Empire should not go across a tight rope +to the tents. And there she would have remained had not a great, tall +burly woman with a fat baby on her hip come out of one of the tents, and +grasping the position, stalked over the bridge without even touching the +hand rail, caught Baby Akbar from Foster-mother, who was too taken aback +to resist, set him on her other hip and calmly stalked back again, +leaving the two women too surprised and horrified even to scream. + +But when they saw the Heir-to-Empire safe on the other side, they +consented to be carried across pick-a-back. + +So there they were before long eating goats' milk cheese fried like a +beefsteak and drinking long draughts of a sort of sour milk. + +One of the shepherds could speak a little Persian, and from him +Foster-father, to his great relief, learned that Prince Askurry's camp +was only a mile or two down the valley, so, feeling certain of being +able to reach it before sundown, he called a halt, and they all lay down +to rest in one of the tents, Baby Akbar between his two nurses for +safety sake. For one could never tell, Head-nurse remarked, what might +happen amongst people who spoke the language of ghosts in the desert, +and kept such strange animals. A great golliwog of a black dog who sat +on one side of the tent like an image, watching them as if he meant to +eat them, and a great fluff of a white cat sitting on the other with her +eyes shut as if she did not want to watch them. + +No! Indeed it was impossible to tell what might not happen! + +And that is exactly how it turned out. What _really_ did happen no one +knew. It was Foster-mother who, waking first, let loose a shriek while +still half awake. This roused Head-nurse, who let loose another. For +Baby Akbar was no longer between them. The Heir-to-Empire had gone--had +disappeared--was not to be found! + +Roy was out of the tent in a second, treading in his haste on Meroo, who +was sleeping outside, and who began to howl confusedly. Old Faithful +fumbled for his sword, Foster-father rubbed his eyes as if _they_ must +be at fault. + +But there was no Baby! And what is more, both the black dog and the +white cat had disappeared also; at least they were no longer on the +watch. + +Never was there such a commotion. The rocks resounded with cries and +every one searched everywhere; even in the great tall basket panniers in +which hill shepherds carry their goods and chattels. + +But not one sign of the little fellow was to be found, until--horribly, +dreadfully, near to that awful birch-twig bridge--Foster-mother seized +on a tiny gold-embroidered skull cap that was lying on the grass. + +"It is his!" she sobbed, "it is my darling's! He hath tried to get to +the mountains to his Amma, and he hath fallen from that accursed cats' +cradle. He is dead! He is killed!" + +Every face, except the shepherds', who did not, of course, understand +what was said, turned pale. It was indeed possible, perhaps probable, +that the faithful little soul, who remembered when others forgot, had +tried---- + +It was a terrible thought. But the shepherds, seeing the cap, at once +whistled to their dog, and the one who spoke Persian explained that if +it were shown the cap it would take up the track of the child at once. + +But though they whistled and whistled no dog came. + +Then the shepherds began to look grave and mutter among themselves. + +"What are they saying? What gibberish are they talking?" shrilled poor +Head-nurse, trying to keep hope alive by being angry. The man who spoke +Persian looked at her cheerfully. + +"Only that perhaps the dog has eaten the child. We keep it hungry that +it may chase the wild animals." + +This was too much for the womankind. They simply rent the air with +heartbroken sobs. + +But Foster-father, grave and silent, would not give up hope. Every foot +of the ravine must be searched, first downwards, as, had the child +really fallen into the stream it must have been carried with it. Then as +a last forlorn hope upwards. So, peering down carefully from either +side, they traced the ravine till, gradually becoming shallower, less +steep, it merged into the grassy valley. But there was no sign. Then +sadly they commenced their upward search, until they were close to the +high cliff whence the stream gushed out. Here they found that the ravine +was wider, and at the bottom of it a patch of sand and boulders showed +that there was foothold beside the roaring torrent. + +"I will climb down and see if there is aught," said Roy; "it is easier +here--if he had fallen here, he might--" the tears in his voice +prevented more, as he tucked up his garments preparatory to the +difficult descent. + +But the shepherds raised an urgent outcry. There was a demon in the +cavern, they said, whence the water came. There was no use angering it, +no use in losing another life. + +Roy struggled madly in their detaining hands, but Old Faithful and +Foster-father looked at each other. Whether there was a demon or not it +was a risk to another life and that should not be a young one. + +"No, boy!" said the old warrior stoutly. "This is my task, not thine. I +am good swordsman to begin with, and demons--if there be any--like not a +clean sword thrust. Also I have been pilgrim to Holy Mecca and +demons--if there be any--like not pilgrims' flesh." + +So, muttering prayers and holding his drawn sword in his teeth, since +both hands were needed for the parlous descent, he commenced his task +while the others watched him eagerly. + +About half way down he paused, looked up and called back; but they could +not hear what he said. + +"Take thy sword out of thy mouth, man," shrieked Head-nurse almost +beside herself with grief and rage; "it isn't manners to speak with the +mouth full." + +True enough, but Old Faithful had some difficulty in obeying orders. +However, he managed to steady himself for a moment on his two feet; so +sword in hand he bawled back. + +"'Tis true! There _is_ a demon. It growls. I hear it plainly. Farewell! +I go on, secure in my sword and Holy----" + +Here a foot slipped and he went sliding, slithering, slipping down to +the bottom where, happily only bruised, he sat half-stunned staring in +front of him. + +And then there echoed up to the listeners the most terrible barking, and +yelping, and growling, and spitting, that ever was heard! + +"The demon! The demon!" yelled the shepherds in terror, and ran for +their lives. + +But Roy, ear over the cliff, listened for a second, and the next had +followed Old Faithful. Foster-father was not long behind him, and Meroo +was close on his heels. Foster-mother and Head-nurse were not to be left +out, and somehow they all managed to get down in safety. + +And then they all stood and sat silent and agape with surprise and +delight. + +For what they saw was this. A low cavern in the rock, and on a shelving +bank of dry sand Baby Akbar sitting up and rubbing his eyes, while on +one side of him was the golliwog of a black dog, his fur all bristling, +his white teeth gleaming as he filled the air with furious barks; while +on the other was the white fluff of a cat, her back arched, her tail the +size of two, spitting and growling fiercely. + +How had he got there? Foster-father looked at Foster-mother, Head-nurse +looked at Old Faithful, and Roy looked at Meroo, and they all looked at +each other. + +But Baby Akbar only put out one fat hand towards the black dog and said +"Tumbu," and the other fat hand towards the cat and said "Down," and +that was all he would say. + +He had tumbled down; but how, when, and where, and how the dog and the +cat came to be with him no one ever knew from that day to this. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +ON THE ROAD + + +Naturally when, after an uneventful journey with the shepherd as guide, +they reached Prince Askurry's camp that evening, they came to talk over +the incident. Foster-father was not sparing of Head-nurse. The whole +tissue of misfortunes, which had ended in Baby Akbar so nearly losing +his life--and that he had been spared was simply a miracle--arose from +her insisting on a Royal Procession. But for that, both she and the +child would have gone comfortably on a camel. They would have kept up +with the other baggage animals and none of the distressful events would +have happened. It should not, however, happen again. Of course, +Head-nurse tried to brazen it out and assert that the Heir-to-Empire +could always count on a miracle in his favour; but in her +heart-of-hearts she knew that Foster-father was right. + +So next morning she said nothing when she saw a camel with two panniers +kneeling in front of the tent, ready for its load. _That_ had to be +endured, but she revenged herself by objecting to the black dog and the +white cat, who sat expectantly one on either side, evidently prepared +for a start. + +"Whose are those uncouth beasts?" she asked of Roy angrily. "Did I not +tell those ghosts of the desert who call themselves shepherds to remove +them last night? Why have they come back? Take them away! Catch them! +Tie them up! Such mean born animals have no right to attend the +Mighty-in-Pomp, the Lord-of-Light," etc., etc. + +She rolled out the titles sonorously, determined that if she was docked +of dignity in one way she would have it in another. + +Now it was not very hard to catch the big black golliwog of a dog, even +though he did snarl and snap and try to bite. There were a lot of camp +followers who were only too glad to have the amusement of capturing him, +so, after a very short space poor "Tumbu," for Baby Akbar insisted on +calling him so, was being dragged off at the end of a long rope to his +masters the shepherds, looking very sad, with his tail between his legs. + +But it was quite different with "Down," the cat. She had made up her +mind to stay where she was, and it is very hard, indeed, to make a cat +change its mind when it is once made up. + +So she moved about gently, from one place to the other, purring softly +and looking as mild as milk, her blue eye--for real Persian cats often +have their eyes of different colours and one of them is always +blue--ever so friendly, as if she were just longing to be picked up. +Only the very tip of her bushy tail swayed a little, and that is a sure +sign that a cat is contrary. And contrary Down was. The very instant any +one tried to pick her up--why! she was somewhere else! + +Head-nurse ere long joined in the chase, saying all the rest didn't +understand cats. But she soon lost patience and declaring that she had +never been done by a dumb animal yet, started capture by force. A circle +was formed round the point where Down sat blinking in the sunlight, and +shawls and veils were held up to make it complete. Then step by step +they advanced towards the cat, who, in truth, viewed the enclosing wall +with polite indifference. It was really rather a funny sight to see +stout Head-nurse without her veil tip-toeing in line towards pussy and +shrilling out her orders to the others to close in and be sure to leave +no loopholes. Step by step her voice became more and more triumphant, +and it really seemed as if the cat _must_ be caught this time, for Down +sat sweetly purring until she was actually hidden from sight behind the +high-held screening cloths. + +"Now then! quick!" shrilled Head-nurse. "Close in--close----" + +But her order ended in a scream of fright, for there was pussy in one +flying leap on her bare head, scrabbling up her scanty hair, and with +another away up the hillside leaving nothing but claw-marks behind her! + +Head-nurse wept with angry tears; but Foster-father, always sensible, +said "Enough! cry on the camel if you will, but now is the time to slip +away before the obstinate animal can return." + +There was wisdom in this; therefore Head-nurse composed herself +comfortably in one pannier while Foster-mother, who was lighter, settled +into the other with Baby Akbar. So off they set at the dignified lollop +which camels affect, and Head-nurse began to congratulate herself on +having successfully evaded the "uncouth beasts." + +But there is no counting on cats. If they are here one moment and gone +the next, they are also gone one moment and here the next. So, as the +camel was passing under a thorn tree about half a mile out from camp, a +great fluff of white hair sprang from the branches and landed right in +Head-nurse's broad lap. And there was Mistress Down looking as if butter +wouldn't melt in her mouth, and purring away like a kettle on the boil. + +Head-nurse gave in _altogether_ then. "When a cat really makes up its +mind," she said with forced wisdom, "it is little use any one else +making up theirs!" + +So pussy sat in her lap, and after a while the warmth of the pretty +creature and even the very roughness of the small three-cornered red +tongue that licked her hand, as half-unconsciously she began to stroke +the long soft fur, made her say suddenly: + +"Who knows but it is the Will of the Creator! This mean-born +thing may in the future be of use to the Light-of-the-World, the +Observed-of-all-Observers," etc., etc., etc. + +And her words were to come true, for, as you will see by and bye, Down +was of great use to her little master. Nevertheless when, at the very +next camping ground, a great big black golliwog of a dog with a gnawed +end of rope still round his neck was seen calmly awaiting them at the +door of the tent that was pitched for their reception, Head-nurse became +tearful again and said that if Providence intended to send all the wild +beasts of the field to look after Baby Akbar, there was no need for her; +so she would give up her place. + +But the little Prince himself was delighted. He plumped down on the hot +sand beside the dog and hugged it, calling it "Dear Tumbu," and when the +white cat jealously rubbed her back against his little fat person he +hugged her too and called her "Darling Down." + +"Hark to the Lord-of-the-Universe giving his creatures names!" said +Foster-mother piously. So after that everybody called the golliwog dog +Tumbu, and the fluffy cat Down. + +This was the beginning of a whole week on camel back; a very pleasant +week too, though the minds of the elders were rather on the stretch +concerning the fate of King Humâyon and Queen Humeeda. + +Still the sky was as blue as blue could be, the sun shone bright and the +air was crisp with coming winter. Head-nurse spent most of her days +dozing and mumbling long strings of titles in one pannier, while Down +slept and purred on her lap. In the other pannier were Foster-mother and +Baby Akbar. The little fellow did not sleep much, but spent most of his +time craning over the pannier side to see everything there was to be +seen. But what amused him most was to watch Tumbu, who would look up and +bark and gambol for hours to attract his little master's attention. +Whereat Down would become impatient and come over the camel's hump from +the other pannier, rub her back against the little Prince and watch, +too, with a sort of dignified contempt. It was the way of dogs to be +loud and effusive, and gushing; but it didn't mean much. Tumbu, for +instance, despite his display of affection, would leave his post to run +after every wild thing he saw; and though he always came back to it, he +was so helplessly breathless, with half a yard of red tongue hanging +out, that he would have been little use had an enemy turned up and his +protection been needed. + +Cats were far wiser. They sat still and watched; so they were always +ready. + +And one evening Down watched to some purpose. Baby Akbar was asleep on +some quilts and Down, as usual, lay keeping his feet warm, her eyes +closed, purring away like a steaming kettle. + +You would have sworn she was half asleep, but in a second there was one +spring, something reared itself at her to strike, but her paws were too +quick. One, two, three, came the blows swiftly like boxes on the ears, +and there was a snake squirming and helpless in the dust. Old Faithful's +armoured feet were on its head in a second and the danger was over. + +"Truly a cat is a terrible thing," said Head-nurse in a twitter. "There +is no fear in them. The reptile had not a chance." + +But Down was back on her young master's feet, her eyes closed, purring +away as if nothing had happened. + +Tumbu was in favour, however, next evening, but for a different cause. +He appeared with a great prickly porcupine held gingerly in his mouth +and laid it before Baby Akbar. + +"Ohi! Porcupine for supper!" cried Meroo, the cook boy, who knew what a +delicacy it was; but Head-nurse shrieked, "Take it away quick--the +Heir-to-Empire will prick himself with the quills and they are +poisonous. Take it away at once, I say." + +But alas! The Heir-to-Empire was wilful, like all Eastern Princelings, +and he shrieked to match at the suggestion. So there arose such a +hubbub, which was only calmed by Baby Akbar being allowed to do as he +chose. + +"Poor! Poor!" he said as his little hand touched the sharp prickles and +no one found out, till Foster-mother came to put him to bed, that he +really _did_ scratch himself. There was quite a little runnel of blood +on the palm; but Akbar, even when he was a baby, was proud. He knew how +to bear discomfort and punishment when it was his own fault. + +They were all rather merry that night, for they had roast porcupine +stuffed with pistachio nuts for supper. And afterward Roy sat by Baby +Akbar's pile of quilts and sang him to sleep with this royal lullaby: + + "Baby, Baby-ling, + You are always King; + Always wear a crown, + Though you tumble down; + Call each thing your own, + Find each lap a throne; + Dearest, sweetest King, + Baby! Baby-ling!" + +When the child had fallen asleep Roy sat at the door of the tent and +looked at the stars, which shone, as they do in the East, all colours, +like jewels in the velvety sky. They seemed so far away, but not farther +than he seemed to be from himself. For Roy's head had been dreadfully +confused by that sunstroke in the desert. Only that morning something +had seemed to come back to him in a flash, and he had so far forgotten +he was only a page boy as to call the little Heir-to-Empire "Brother," +but Head-nurse's cuff had brought him back to reality in double quick +time. And as he sat there in the dark he saw a man creeping stealthily +to the tent. He was on his feet in a moment challenging him. + +"Hush!" whispered the newcomer, "I bring a message from King Humâyon. I +must see Foster-father at once." + +The good man was already between the quilts, but he got up quickly, and +when he had heard the message he sent for Head-nurse and Foster-mother +and Old Faithful, for he felt that a most momentous decision had to be +made. Yet the message was a very simple one. Those in charge of the +child were to creep away that very night with the messenger, who would +guide them in safety to King Humâyon, who had found help and shelter in +Persia. + +Head-nurse and Foster-mother wept tears of joy at the glad news, and +proposed at once that they should wrap the child in a blanket and start. +But Foster-father was more wary. + +"You come as a thief in the darkness," he said. "Where is your token +from the king, that I may know who you are?" + +But there was no token. + +"Then the child stays where he is," asserted Foster-father boldly. "Am I +not right oh! Faithful?" + +"Assuredly my lord is right. Who knows but this man may be an emissary +of those who would wile away the little lad from his uncle, Prince +Askurry's protection. His other uncle, Kumran, is not so kind." + +The messenger scowled at the old man. "As you please," he began +blusteringly, "but those who disobey the King's order may find their +lives forfeit." + +"Mine is forfeit already to the child's service," replied Foster-father +with spirit. "And without a token I stir not--Peace! woman," he added to +Head-nurse, who would fain have sided with the messenger, "and go fetch +the Heir-to-Empire's cap. That shall go as sign that he is his father's +vassal, to do what he is told when the order comes accredited. So take +that as my answer to those who sent you, sir messenger!" + +So despite Head-nurse's protestations the man went off with nothing but +the little gold-laced skull cap. And he had not to go far; only into a +tent on the outskirts of the camp. For Foster-father's suspicions had +been correct, and he had been sent to try and entice the child by some +of Prince Kumran's partisans who, booted and spurred, and with a swift +pacing camel for the child, were waiting eagerly for the return of their +messenger. + +Their faces fell as he flung the little cap upon the ground. + +"The old fox is too wary," he said. "We must get at the child some other +way." + +One of the party took up the cap and fingered it, half idly. "He has a +large-sized head for his years," he remarked; "if it be full of brains, +hereafter he may do well." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +AT COURT + + +Of course, the messenger never returned from King Humâyon with the +token; but Foster-father was a good-natured man and did not boast of his +wisdom to Head-nurse, who, however, remained wonderfully meek and silent +until at the end of a fortnight's marching they saw, against the blue of +the distant valley, the white domes of the town of Kandahâr with the +citadel rising above them. Then, with the chance of a court before her +once more, she began chattering of ceremonials and titles and +etiquettes. + +"Praise be!" she shrilled in her high voice. "No more jiggettings and +joggettings on camel back. I shall be on my own feet once more, and it +shall not be my fault if His just dues are not given to the +Great-in-Pomp----" etc., etc. + +Foster-mother interrupted the string of titles. "So that they harm not +the child," she said, clasping her charge tight. She was always thinking +of his safety, always alarmed for danger; but he, young Turk that he +was, struggled from her arms and pointed to the hills they were leaving +behind them. + +"Dadda, Amma 'way 'way mountains," he repeated once more; then added +cheerfully, "Akka 'way, too." + +"It is a prophecy!" said Old Faithful, overhearing the remark. "Sure +his grand-dad Baber--on whom be peace--had the gift, and this babe may +have inherited it." + +"May have," echoed Head-nurse indignantly. "He has inherited it, and has +much of his own besides. Mark my words! if this child live--which Heaven +grant--he will be the King of Kings! Not two summers old and he talks as +one of three." + +"Aye!" assented Foster-mother, "but he does not walk yet." + +Head-nurse sniffed. "Thou are a foolish soul, woman! Sure either the +feet or the tongue must come first, and for my part I prefer the tongue. +Any babe can walk!" + +And Foster-mother was silent; it was true one could not have everything. + +Their last camp was pitched just outside the city of Kandahâr, so that +Prince Askurry could make a regular triumphal entry the next morning and +let everybody see with their own eyes that he had come back victorious, +holding Baby Akbar as prisoner and hostage. + +But this did not suit Head-nurse at all. She had no notion that her +Heir-to-Empire should be stared at as a captive; so, though she started +from camp humbly as ever on the baggage camel, no sooner had they passed +through the arched gate of the city with Prince Askurry well ahead of +them in the narrow streets, than out she whipped the Royal Umbrella +which she had patched up with an old scarlet silk petticoat, and there +was Baby Akbar under its shadow; and, having--young as he was--been +taught to salute to a crowd, he began waving his little fat hand with +much dignity, until the people who had come out to gape whispered among +themselves and said: + +"He looks every inch a king's son." + +"And that is what he is," said a bold voice in the crowd; but though +folk turned to see who spoke, there was no sign of the speaker. For +loyal men had to hide their loyalty in those days. Still the populace +were pleased with the little Prince's bearing, and many a hand was +raised to welcome him. + +Before they reached the frowning palace, indeed, where Prince Askurry +kept a right royal court as Governor of Kandahâr, Head-nurse's mind was +full of the things she intended to insist upon for the honour and +dignity of her small charge. Meanwhile she had to obey the order to take +him at once into Princess Sultanam's apartments. Now Princess Sultanam +was Prince Askurry's wife, and she had a boy of her own who was about +three years older than Baby Akbar, and a little daughter who had just +been born about a month before. So, as she lay among cushions at the +farther end of the long room, with Prince Askurry, who had hurried to +see his wife on his return, beside her, she looked suspiciously at the +child which Head-nurse put down on the Persian carpet as soon as she +came into the room; since though others might carry him to the upstarts +at the farther end, _she_ was not going to do so, when _they_ were +clearly bound to come humbly to the Heir-to-Empire and prostrate +themselves before him! + +So there stood Baby Akbar, fair and square, steadying himself by +Head-nurse's petticoats, but for all that looking bold and big and +brave. + +Now Princess Sultanam was a kindly foolish woman at heart, much given to +impulses, and the sight of the upstanding little boy made her think +instantly what a fine man he would make, and that brought another +thought which made her sit up delightedly and clap her hands. + +"I have it, my lord!" she exclaimed, turning to Prince Askurry. "It is a +grand idea! We will betroth our little Amina to this young master. That +will settle everything and they will be the handsomest couple in the +country!" + +Now, strange as this may sound to my readers, Prince Askurry, who was +accustomed to the Indian habit of settling that quite little boys and +girls should marry each other when they grew up, could not help at once +seeing that his wife's suggestion was not such a bad one. It would help +him to keep a hold over the little Heir-to-Empire. If King Humâyon +returned it would make him more inclined to forgive, and if he did not, +why! it would prevent cruel brother Kumran from stepping in and getting +all, since as father-in-law to the young king he, Askurry, would be +Regent. + +Still, taken aback, he hummed and hawed. + +"It would be a long time to wait until they are old enough to marry," he +began. + +"Long!" interrupted the lively Princess gaily. "All the longer for +merriment and festivities. Thy daughter, my lord, is already beautiful, +and I'll wager the boy will be a grown man ere we have time to turn +round. So that is settled. Therefore come hither, oh nephew! Jallaluddin +Mahomed Akbar, since that is thy long name, and kiss thy cousin +Amina--Nurse! bring my sweeting hither. Now then, woman," she continued +sharply, addressing Head-nurse, who stood petrified with astonishment +and anger at the very idea of such scant ceremony. "If the boy cannot +walk, carry him!" + +Head-nurse could scarcely speak. To be called "Woman" by an upstart--for +Prince Askurry had married Princess Sultanam for her beauty--was too +much! + +"The Feet-of-the-Most-Condescending-of-Majesties," she began pompously, +"have not yet conferred happiness on the earth by treading it underfoot, +neither----" + +Here she broke off hurriedly, for at that very instant, as if in denial +of her words, Baby Akbar gave a little crow of assent, let go her +petticoats, and with outspread balancing arms, and legs very wide apart, +launched himself boldly for his very first steps! + +"_Bismillah!_" (Well done!) shrieked Foster-mother in delight. + +"_Bismillah! Bismillah!_" echoed every one in the room, while all eyes +full of smiles were on the stalwart young toddler as he lurched forward, +his face one broad grin. + +Princess Sultanam clapped her hands again. "Thy turban, my lord!" she +cried in a flutter of amusement. "Thy turban, quick; as his father is +not here 'tis thy place to prevent him falling of himself--thy +turban--quick! quick!" + +Prince Askurry, full of laughter, pulled off the soft turban he wore--it +was all wound round and round to fit the head like a cap--and in +obedience to the Indian custom, which always prevents a child from +falling of itself in its first attempt at walking, flung it full at the +little lad. It caught him between his outspread balancing arms and over +he went on to the thick pile carpet. + +Foster-mother was beside him in a second, eager to snatch him up and +cover him with kisses; but Baby Akbar wriggled himself from her hold. He +had set himself a task and he meant to do it. + +"Go way!" he said with determination. "Tumbu down. Get up again." + +So, calmly reaching round for the turban which lay beside him, which he +evidently thought had tumbled down too, he clapped it on his head with +both hands, rose to his feet and recommenced his forward lurch; a yard +or two of the fringed turban, which had become unrolled, trailing behind +him like a royal robe. + +It was a quainter little figure than before, but nobody laughed now. +They looked at each other, then at the child staggering along under the +Prince's plumed turban, then at Prince Askurry himself standing +bareheaded before his nephew. + +It was an ill omen. And yet as Head-nurse said proudly when they got +back to the rooms that had been given them in a frowning bastion of the +palace, Baby Akbar had once more scored off his uncle. + +Indeed, she was so cock-a-hoop about it that she stickled for this, and +she stickled for that until the attendants, who were at first inclined +to be civil, began to look askance, and Foster-father had to bid her +hold her tongue. + +"Wise folk leave steel traps alone," he said; "fiddling with them lets +off the spring. Then--pouf!" + +He shook his head significantly. + +"Steel traps?" echoed Head-nurse sniffily, "who is talking of steel +traps?" + +"I am, woman!" replied Foster-father sternly. "I tell you this Kandahâr +is as a steel trap ready to snap on us at any moment." + +Head-nurse was silent, even though he also had ventured to call her +"woman"; but she was beginning to learn that nine times out of ten +Foster-father was right. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +WINTER + + +The winter settled in early that year, and with the passes of the hills +blocked by snow, the caravans of laden camels which, in addition to +merchandise of all sorts, brought news from the world to the east and +the world to the west of mountain-clipped Kandahâr, ceased to come into +the big bazaar. And the cold kept most people at home, or shivering +beside the glowing braziers set outside the shops. It was not the season +for active work, and so Prince Askurry let it slip by without really +making up his mind what he was to do with Baby Akbar. Meanwhile the +child could live in the bastion of the palace, and play with his little +cousins. Whether he was to be betrothed to Baby Amina or not could be +decided in the spring; this was the time for rest and home comfort +without fear of any disturbing, since none could cross the passes in +winter. + +Princess Sultanam, however, to whom in her seclusion winter and summer +were much alike, grew fond of the little lad, and never ceased to urge +on her husband the wisdom of so treating Prince Akbar, that should King +Humâyon by good luck--and he _had_ a knack of being lucky--find himself +again with an army at his back, his hands would be tied from revenge on +the Court at Kâbul. + +Now, Askurry was no fool; he saw that, for the present at any rate, +until Humâyon's fate was decided, it would be wiser to be kind; so he +decided that when he held the New Year's assemblage he would present the +little prince in due form to the chiefs and nobles. + +Head-nurse was almost crazy with delight at the very idea. She and +Foster-mother sent all their jewels to the goldsmith to be made up into +suitable ornaments for Baby Akbar, and they ransacked the shops for odd +scraps of brocade with which to make him the finest of fine state robes. + +And on the eventful day they began the child's toilette early, pressing +Roy the Râjput into service as tire-woman to hold the ointments, and +scents, and what not, that they deemed necessary for the due dressing of +a Prince. + +So that it rather dashed their spirits when Foster-father came in with a +sober face and the news that a man had come into the bazaar bringing bad +tidings of the King and Queen. They had, he said, been lost in the snow; +but whether this was true or not, who could tell? + +"Then what is the use of worrying?" snapped Head-nurse, who was too much +occupied in making her charge beautiful to think of other things. "Lo! +Foster-father, evil is never lost on the road. It arrives sooner or +later, so why watch for it at the door?" + +"That is true," replied Foster-father, "but mark my words, all depends +on good news. If that comes, the child is safe; if evil--then God help +him!" + +Roy, who, Baby Akbar being nearly dressed, was now holding the pot of +lamp-black and oil with which Head-nurse, after the Indian custom, would +put a finishing touch to her work by smearing a big black smut on the +child's forehead, lest he should be too sweet and so attract an envious, +evil eye, looked up at the words, his face full of light and +remembrance. + +"God does help true kingship," he said proudly. "Mother used to say so, +and that is why she was never afraid--" He paused and the light in his +face faded. "I--I don't remember any more," he added apologetically. + +"Remembrance or no," snapped Head-nurse, "hold the pot straight, boy, or +thou wilt spill it over the Mighty-in-Pomp, the Admired-of-the-World," +etc. + +But Foster-father looked at Old Faithful and laid his hand kindly on +Roy's shoulder. "It matters not, Roy! It is there within thee, all the +same. And 'twill come back some day, never fear. And I for one," he +added aside to the old trooper, "should not wonder at much; for the +lad's manners are ever above his present station." + +Old Faithful shook his head wisely. "'Tis not the boy's manners, +friend," he said, "but his breed. A man may compass manners for himself, +but not that his father should have had them also." + +By this time the black smear was on Baby Akbar's forehead, and despite +the smudge, he looked a very fine little fellow indeed. So much so that +quite a murmur of delighted admiration ran round the assemblage when +Askurry appeared, leading him by the hand; for he had quickly learned to +run about and was now quite steady on his legs. + +"A chip of the old block," said an ancient mountain chief, who had known +his grandfather Babar, and many others nodded assent. Then Prince +Askurry began a set speech, little Akbar seated on his knee the while. + +It was a very clever, crafty speech, that could be taken two ways, and +Prince Askurry was so much interested in it, and making sure that he was +neither too disloyal or too loyal to his unfortunate brother, the King, +that he did not notice what was passing on his knee until a sudden lack +of attention on the part of his audience made him follow their eyes, and +look down at the child upon his lap. + +And then? + +Then he sat dumbfounded, his face flushing to a dull, dark red, for he +saw in a moment what the thing that had happened would mean to those +others--the audience before him--the men he had summoned to listen to +his half-hearted words. + +Yet it was a very simple little thing. Baby Akbar, tired, doubtless, of +his uncle's speechifying, had found amusement in a slender gold chain +which hung round his uncle's neck; had traced it to a secret pocket in +his inner waistcoat, and so had drawn out from its hiding place a golden +signet ring, set with an engraved emerald. A toy indeed! So after +playing with it for a bit the child had slipped it onto his little +forefinger, which he held up the better to admire his new-found +treasure. So it came to pass that as Askurry's smooth, oily voice went +on and on, those who listened could see a little image sitting on his +knee. + +A dignified, gracious-looking image with forefinger held up in the +attitude of kingly command; and on that forefinger--what? + +The Signet of the King! + +The Ring of Empire! + +It was unmistakable! Askurry must have found it in his fugitive +brother's tent. He must have concealed it. Uncertain what part he meant +to play in the end, he must have worn it on his person until the +child--the true Heir-to-Empire---- + +The chiefs looked at each other furtively. There was a pause. Then +suddenly an old, thin voice--the voice of the old mountain chief, who +remembered Babar the brave--rose on the silence. + +"God save the Heir-to-Empire!" + +It gave the lead, and from every side rose the cry: + +"God save the Heir-to-Empire!" + +[Illustration: _The child had slipped it onto his little +forefinger._] + +Prince Askurry's face fell. He had not meant to rouse loyalty, but he +was quick and clever, so he saw that it _had_ been roused, and that now +was not the time to try and stifle it. So his frown turned to a smile as +he caught the child to him and rose, holding him in his arms. + +"The rogue, my lords," he said lightly, "has forestalled me. I meant to +place the ring upon his finger myself before you all, in token that he +does in truth represent our King, but praise be to Heaven! he has saved +me the task. Long live the Heir-to-Empire!" + +But the nobles as they passed out of the assembly, and the people who +heard the tale outside, said it was a strange happening that the +innocent child should so claim his right. And cruel brother Kumran's +party laid their heads together once more, and swore it was time to end +Prince Askurry's foolish hesitation. They must get at the child somehow. + +But by this time, if Prince Askurry had not quite made up his mind how +he should treat Baby Akbar, he had quite settled that no one else--least +of all cruel brother Kumran--should have anything to do with the child. +So the little prince was carefully watched and guarded, rather to +Foster-father's and Old Faithful's relief. Indeed, as time went on they +almost forgot to watch themselves, being accustomed to see the sentry +walking up and down before the entry to the narrow stairs that led up to +the three rooms in the old bastion which were given them as lodgings. +They were large, comfortable rooms, and the inner one was used by +Foster-mother, Head-nurse and Baby Akbar, the outer one by the two men +and the two boys, while the middle one, a great wide hall of a place, +they used as a living room. It was lighter than the others, since it had +slits of windows--without glass, of course--high up in the walls, and +though these let the cold as well as the winter sunshine into the room, +there was a roaring great fireplace, which kept the farther end of the +hall nice and warm. And here on very frosty nights the women folk would +drag their beds and sleep, while during the snowy days they would spread +quilts on the floor, and Baby Akbar would have high jinks with Tumbu and +Down, who were his constant playmates. Then, when he was tired, Roy +would cradle his young master in his arms and sing to him. Not +lullabies, for little Akbar's mind kept pace with his body, and every +month saw him more and more of a boy and less and less of a baby. + +"Tell me how Râjah Rasâlu did this," or "Tell me how Râjah Rasâlu did +that," he would say; and so Roy's boyish voice would go over the old +story of endless adventures, which has delighted so many Indian children +for so many generations. + +So time passed quite merrily until one night, when something dreadful +happened. So dreadful that it will really require another chapter to +describe it. But it was one night when Roy had been telling the little +prince how "Râjah Rasâlu's friends forsook him for fear." And as this is +rather a nice story, it shall be told here. + +"You know, great Kingly child," began Roy, "how Râjah Rasâlu was born +and how Râjah Rasâlu set out into the world to seek for fortune, taking +with him his dear horse, Baunwa-iraki, his parrot, Kilkila, who had +lived with him since he was born, besides the Carpenter-lad and the +Goldsmith-lad, who had sworn never to leave their young master. So he +journeyed north to a lonely place, all set with sombre trees. And the +night was dark, so he set a watch, and the goldsmith took the first, +while the young prince slept by the Carpenter-lad, on a couch of clean, +sweet leaves. And lest the heart of the prince should sink, they sang a +cheering song: + + "'Cradled till now on softest down, + Leaves are thy bed to-night; + Yet grieve not thou at fortune's frown, + Brave men heed not her slight.' + +"And while they slept and the goldsmith watched, a snake slid out from +the trees. 'Now, who are you?' quoth the Goldsmith-lad, 'who come to +disturb his rest?' 'Lo! I have killed all living things that have +ventured within ten miles of this my place of rest,' it hissed, 'and now +I will slay you, too!' So they fought and fought, but the Goldsmith-lad +he killed the snake in the end. Then he hid the body under his shield, +lest the others might be afraid, and he roused from his rest the +Carpenter-lad, to take his share of the watch, while he, in his turn, on +the clean, sweet leaves lay down beside the prince. And while they +slept, and the Carpenter watched, a dragon slid from the trees. 'Now, +who are you?' quoth the Carpenter-lad, 'who come to disturb his rest?' +'Lo! I have killed all living things for twenty miles round this place; +and I'll kill you, too,' it roared, 'and crack your bones to eat.' So +they fought and fought and fought till he killed the dragon at last. +Then he hid the body behind a bush lest the others should be afraid, and +roused Rasâlu from out his sleep to take his share of the watch; while +he in turn by the Goldsmith-lad lay down to take his rest. + +"And while they slept and Rasâlu waked a THING slid out from the trees; +an awful THING! No man could tell th' unspeakable horror of it. But +Rasâlu smiled in its face of dread, and laughed in, its horrible eyes. +'Pray, who are you to disturb our rest, and why do you dare to come?' +'Lo! I have killed all living things for twenty times twenty miles, and +I will kill you, upstart boy, and crack your bones to dust.' + +"So they fought and fought and fought, and Rasâlu drew his bow, and the +arrow fled like the wind and pierced the Awful Horror through. Then it +fled to a cave close by, with Rasâlu at its heels. So they fought and +fought and fought till the dawn showed clear in the sky, and the Awful +Horror gave up with a groan and rolled on its side and died. Now, just +as Rasâlu wiped his sword the sleepers awoke from their sleep. 'See +here!' said the Goldsmith-lad with pride, 'what I killed in my lonely +watch.' 'Pooh! only a snake!' said the Carpenter-lad; 'see the dragon I +have killed.' But Rasâlu took them both by the hand and led them into +the cave; but dead as it was, they shrieked with fear at the Awful +Horror they saw. And they fell at Rasâlu's feet and groaned and moaned +and prayed and wept. 'Let us go! Oh, hero, we are but men. We dare not +follow you now. It is nothing to you; it is death to us to follow and be +your friends.' + +"Then tears came into Rasâlu's eyes, but he said no word of nay. 'Do as +you will,' he said to them. '_I_ will not bid you stay. + + "'Aloes linger long before they flower, + Gracious rain too soon is overpast; + Youth and strength are with us but an hour, + All glad life must end in death at last. + But king reigns king without consent of courtier, + Rulers may rule, though none heed their command; + Heaven-crowned heads, stoop not, but rise the haughtier, + Alone and friendless in a strangers' land.' + +"So his friends forsook him and fled. But Rasâlu went on his way." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +DOWN'S STRATAGEM + + +Now the terrible thing that happened was one which Foster-father might +have expected, but for two things. + +One was the sentry who walked up and down all night long below the high +second-story windows of the central room. He would be bound to see any +attempt to gain an entrance through them, even if they were wide enough +to admit the entry of a grown man, which they were not. + +The other was the fact that he, Old Faithful, Meroo and Roy all slept in +the outer room, into which the only door opened, so that any intruder +would have to force an entrance over their bodies; for they slept with +drawn swords beside them. + +So as the days passed on Foster-father's vigilance--though he knew that +cruel brother Kumran's agents were on the lookout for any opportunity of +kidnapping the Heir-to-Empire--slackened somewhat, especially when the +afternoons drew in, the fire in the big hall was made up, the quilts put +down and Baby Akbar, surrounded by his admiring circle, listened to +Roy's stories or tumbled about with his playmates, Tumbu, the dog, and +Down, the cat. + +One day, however, Down did not appear until little Akbar was having his +supper, and then she came in a great hurry out of a small archway by the +big fireplace, which led to a sort of cupboard in the masonry, where +charcoal had been kept, gobbled up a plate of bread and milk, and +hurried in again as if she had to catch a train. + +"She has had kittens," said Foster-mother; "I wonder if they are white +or black." + +"Black!" sniffed Head-nurse. "What else could they be in that hole? Have +a care, woman! or the Heir-to-Empire will be blacking himself, too. The +archway is large enough for him to creep in, and Heaven only knows +whither it might lead." + +"That is true," replied Foster-mother, alarmed, as she distracted the +child's attention. + +But in a day or two his quick ear caught the sound of a feeble mewing +inside the arch, and, of course, he wanted to know what it was. So he +was told that kittens had to be kept quiet and that Down would be very +vexed if her kitten was disturbed; but that by-and-bye she would +doubtless bring it out for him to see, and then, of course, he could +play with it. Now, Baby Akbar was always a reasonable little fellow, so +he waited patiently; though every night when he went to bed and Down +came out for her supper, his little mouth would go down and he would +hold up his little hands and twiddle them round and say mournfully: + +"Kitty not 'weady. Kitty not 'weady." + +Now, one night there was a great festival in the palace, and the +Heir-to-Empire had to go and pay his respects, after the Indian manner +on feast days, to his aunt and uncle. Then, when he returned, they sent +him, after Indian wont, trays full of fruit and sugar-toffee made in the +shape of animals, and a few pieces of muslin and stuffs to make new +dresses for the party. In addition to this there was a trayful of +supper, which came afterward, when daylight had gone, with the Princess +Sultanum's best compliments. At least so said the man who brought it; +but he did not wait to be questioned, and disappeared so soon as Meroo +had taken the tray from him. + +But it was full of the most delicious dainties, including a bowl of +sweet milk made with almonds and honey and rice meal for Baby Akbar. + +Head-nurse, however, would not let him eat it. She was always afraid of +the little lad being poisoned, so Meroo always cooked with his own hands +everything the child ate. Therefore they gave it to Tumbu instead; for, +having been brought up by shepherds, he loved milk, and he licked his +lips after it and was soon sound asleep by the fire. + +The lamb stewed with pistachio nuts and full of saffron looked, however, +so delicious that after Meroo had tasted it and pronounced it quite +safe, since all knew that saffron would not go with real poison, they +set to work and finished the platter. + +They were all as jolly as could be afterward, though the heat of the +fire and their heavy supper made them sleepy; so Head-nurse, declaring +it was far too cold in the inner room, dragged her bed and +Foster-mother's close to the fire, the others retired to the outer room, +and before long they were all snoring away quite happily. + +For if the supper had not truly been poisoned, it had been drugged. +Drugged with sleep-bringing drugs. + +So, as the firelight flickered over the room faintly, it showed +Head-nurse's face and Foster-mother's face and even Tumbu's black muzzle +in a dead sleep that was almost unconsciousness. And in the outer room +Foster-father snored, and even Roy's keen, hawk-face lay like one dead. +Only Baby Akbar tossed and turned in his comfortable nest between his +two nurses. + +Save for this, due to Head-nurse's precaution in not allowing the +Heir-to-Empire sweet milk for supper, all was as cruel brother Kumran's +agents had planned when they had sent the pretended messenger from the +palace with the platter of delicacies. Even the sentry below was +sleeping sound after his share of kid curry. + +Thus, those who were on the roof waiting until the moon had set and they +could without fear of discovery lower the young lad, who was to steal +Baby Akbar, down to the window (through which, being slender, the thief +could slip easily), felt that their task was almost done. + +But they reckoned without a great white fluff which after a time showed +itself at the entry to the charcoal bunker, yawning and stretching and +blinking its eyes. Head-nurse had been quite wrong in saying Down's +kitten must be black in that hole! Its mother, anyhow, was beautifully +white, perhaps because Down was a sensible cat and had only chosen the +charcoal bunker because she had found a lot of old straw and a blanket +tucked away in its farther corner. Besides, as she only had one kitten, +she could spend all her time in licking it and cleaning it with her +rough, red tongue, after the manner of cats. Anyhow, there it lay, right +out of reach of any one, a little bundle of white fluff, and Down was +just beginning to feel that there were other things in the world besides +kittens. For instance, was that scratching on the roof, think you, a +mouse? If so--? She passed to the fire. It was warm and nice; just the +very place for a kitten's first look at the world, and there were no +troublesome people about; not but what she was anxious to show her +kitten to Baby Akbar. But who knew if horrid Head-nurse might not try to +catch it? But Head-nurse was asleep. Down whisked her tail, disappeared +through the archway, and reappeared again gingerly, carrying the kitten +in her mouth. It sprawled in the firelight and mewed piteously. And +there was that scratching on the roof again ... really, kittens were a +bore when one wanted to mouse.... + +So far it is easy to follow Down's thoughts. What came next is more +difficult. No one can say whether the cat had _really_ any notion that +danger to her young master was abroad, or whether she only wanted to +show him her kitten, or whether she wanted it taken care of--for Persian +cats, if they kill a rat at night, have often been known to jump on +their master's bed and insist on his taking custody of their prize lest +it should somehow come to life again if they left it alone--only this +was certain, Baby Akbar woke with a rough, red tongue licking his nose, +and there, on the quilt, was Down beside the fluffiest, darlingest +little kitten that ever was! + +He made a grab at it with his little fat hands. Whether this frightened +its anxious mother or whether Down really had a purpose in view, who can +say? Only this is sure: she was off the bed in a second, Miss Kitten in +her mouth. A minute afterward Baby Akbar was off it also with a little +crow of delight. But the drugged nurses did not stir; they were away in +the Land of Dreams. And hark! what was that curious noise outside the +window, as if something was slipping down the wall? Perhaps it was +_that_ that frightened Down once more; for just as Baby Akbar's hand +reached out to lay hold of the kitten, which she had set down by the +fire, Down snatched it up again and was off with it back to the +charcoal bunker, with Baby Akbar after her, his face full of solemn +resolve. He meant to play with that kitty. + +And play with her he did. At least, after he disappeared down the +archway by the fireplace he did not come out again. Only Down reappeared +and seated herself at the entrance, her ears cocked, her eyes fixed on +the window. + +For something very funny had happened there, which, though the flicker +of the fire had died down, she could see with her cat's eyes. + +A lad had slipped in, carrying the end of a rope, to which was attached +a network bag. And now, since it was dark, he was striking a light. A +feeble little glimmer, but sufficient to show the two sleeping nurses +and the comfy little nest of quilts between them. But it was empty! + +The boy seemed puzzled, and went into the inner room, only to return +without what he sought. Then he stole into the outer room, but came back +softly with a puzzled look on his face. Then he began to peer about him +on the floor, and in the corners, holding the feeble light in front of +him. Whereupon Down, apparently to satisfy herself that her kitten +really was safe in the corner of the charcoal bunker where she had left +it, retreated for a moment, so that as the searcher came round he saw +nothing but the low, round arch. The next he gave a stifled yell, for +something white that was all claws leaped right in his face, over he +went and out went his light. + +"I look no more," he said, shivering as, after five minutes' hasty +retreat, he stood on the roof among those who had sent him down. "Let +some one else go; but I tell you the child is not there." + +But one of the crafty, cruel men had sharp wits. "Could he have crept +into the charcoal bunker?" he suggested, and the faces round him lit up. +But the lad's remained sullen, as he wiped the blood from Down's +scratches. + +"Mayhap," he said. "_But I go not near that cat again!_" + +So, as no one else was small enough to slip through the narrow slits of +windows, the conspirators could only curse their bad luck. + +Thus it came to pass that the hours passed by without further attempt at +baby-theft, while Foster-father snored and Head-nurse dreamed the most +heavenly dreams of wonderful court ceremonials, and all the others were +wrapped in the profoundest slumbers. + +But they all woke at last, and once more there was the most terrible +hullabaloo until Foster-mother recollected the kitten in the charcoal +bunker. Whereupon every one in turn flattened themselves on the floor +and reached in, and Roy actually got his head and one shoulder in; but +no one could feel anything or find out how big it was or anything about +it. Whereupon the two women began mutual recriminations and the men +stood helpless, when suddenly Down appeared with the kitten in her +mouth, and Baby Akbar, who had evidently been comfortably asleep on the +blanket amid the straw, came crawling after his new pet. + +"So far so good!" said Foster-father, who, noticing a fallen piece of +mortar at the window-sill, had been carefully examining certain signs +and scratches both without and within, "but if I be not much mistaken, +some one hath been through here this night. And that we were all drugged +ye must know if the inside of your mouths be like mine! So we have to +thank Heaven and the cat for an escape!" + +And so they had, though it was a sore trial once more to the women to +have nothing but guesswork to go upon. + +"I wish I knew," murmured poor Foster-mother mournfully, as she watched +Baby Akbar, and Down, and the kitten, and Tumbu, all playing together +before the fire. + +But once more Baby Akbar was silent, and Down told nobody--unless it was +Tumbu. Perhaps he _did_ know, because he allowed Down's kitten to play +with his tail! + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +SPRING + + +Winter passed to spring and spring to early summer, and yet no certain +news came of King Humâyon or Queen Humeeda. Foster-father almost gave up +hope, yet he said little, though he took counsel with Old Faithful, and +he in his turn consulted the old mountain chief, who at the assemblage +had been the first to cry, "Long live the Heir-to-Empire." + +But the old man shook his head. The times were new, he said; very few +people remembered, as he did, the old ways, the old Kings. But for the +sake of Babar the brave they might always count on his sword and the +sabres of fifty or more of his followers. So, if the worst came to the +worst, they were welcome to an asylum in his eagle's eyrie of a +fortress, where at any rate they could all die together fighting for the +King; and what more did any brave man want? + +This was not much consolation to Foster-father, who felt that there was +nothing to be done, save by every means in his power, to curry favour +with the Princess Sultanum. + +But, indeed, the little Heir-to-Empire made himself friends wherever he +went; they could not help liking the frank little fellow who spoke to +them so freely, with a certain grave dignity of his own. For by the +time the peach gardens around Kandahâr lay like clouds of pink and white +about the old domed city, little Prince Akbar was in looks and ways a +child of three or even four; so big and strong was he. He spoke +perfectly in his childish way, with great emphasis and a curious, soft +burr over his r's and h's. And he actually tried to wrestle with his +cousin Ibrahim, who was, however, rather a puny boy, despite the fact +that he was three years older than the little Heir-to-Empire. + +But with Roy as playmate Akbar began all sorts of games. There was a +high, walled peach garden not far from the bastion, where the little +Prince used to be allowed to go; and there, during the long sunny hours, +the Râjput lad, to whom such things were all curiously familiar, taught +the child how to ride on Tumbu's back, and how to hold a spear. Aye! and +to take a tent peg, too; the peg being only a soft carrot stuck in the +earth! But the great game was shooting with a bow and arrow, and in +this, before spring passed to summer, the pupil was a match with his +teacher except in strength; for, from the very beginning, Akbar showed +himself steady and straight as a shot; so it is no wonder he grew up to +be the finest marksman in India. But it would take too long to tell all +the games they played, all the manly sports which the little prince +learned without any difficulty. There was a shallow marble tank in the +middle of the garden, where he took to the water like a duck, and would +lie on his back and kick and shout with laughter as the tank got rough +with waves, till Foster-mother would beg him not to drown, as the water +splashed over him high in the air. + +But Foster-father always reproved her for her fears. "Leave the lad to +learn King's ways," he said, "and thank Heaven the Râjput foundling is +here to teach him. Think you _I_ could tumble head over heels in air or +water or ride bareback standing on one leg?" + +"No, indeed!" would reply Head-nurse, who stifled her terrors from a +sense of duty, "none, seeing thy figure, friend, would ask so much of +thee." + +Then, when Akbar grew tired, Roy would sit leaning his back against a +peach tree so as to make a soft pillow for his little master, and Akbar +would lean against him and listen to endless stories while the soft +fresh breeze stole over the garden wall, and sent showers of pink peach +petals on both the boys. And sometimes the little Prince, outwearied, +would fall asleep, and then Roy would sit still as a mouse, gently +flicking away with the end of his muslin turban the blossoms that fell +on the little sleeper's face. But his thoughts would be busy, wondering +above other things why it was that, do what he would, he could not help +when they were alone at play sometimes calling the Heir-to-Empire +"little brother." It was dreadfully wrong of him, of course, and +Head-nurse would rightly cuff his ears if she overheard it! + +Then Akbar would wake and call imperiously for some favourite story, and +as often as not it would be the tale of "How Râjah Rasâlu swung the +Seventy Maidens." + +And Roy would reply submissively: "It is ordered, Highness!" and begin: + +"Now Râjah Rasâlu, soft heart and strong, heard a pitiful voice as he +rode along. 'Oh traveller! traveller! turn aside, and help God's +creature,' it moaned and cried. So the Prince turned straight and saw +that a fire had caught a bush, blazing higher and higher, while a tiny +cricket lay gasping for breath, half-scorched, half-choked, and nigh to +its death. Then Râjah Rasâlu, soft hearted and stout, put his hand in +the fire and snatched it out! And the cricket drew forth a feeler and +said: 'Take this, my preserver, 'twill bring you aid; should _any_ thing +_ever_ prove troublesome, burn _this_ in the fire and _I_ will come.' +Then Rasâlu laughed with a great big laugh, 'I thank you, weakling! But +none of your chaff! _You_ couldn't help _me_ I'll go bail.' So he rode +on careless o'er hill and dale, a glittering knight in his shining mail, +till he came to the city of King Surkâp, whom he'd sworn to kill with +his sword so sharp. Now as he rode through a garden gay, Seventy Maidens +barred the way; Seventy Maidens young and fair, with flowers decking +their golden hair. Seventy daughters of the king, come out to play and +laugh and swing and jibe at the stripling who'd sworn to slay their +father, the mightiest king of this day. But the youngest maid had a +heart of gold, and when she saw Rasâlu so bold, and strong and handsome +riding to death, on his horse Irâki, she caught her breath, and +whispered to him as he passed her way: + + "'Fair prince on thy charger so gray, + Turn thee back, turn thee back. + If thou lowerest thy lance for the fray, + Thy head will be forfeit to-day. + Dost love life? then, stranger! I pray + Turn thee back--turn thee back.' + +"But Rasâlu smiled in the maiden's face, and drew his rein for an +instant's space, while he gave her answer with courtly grace: 'Fair +maiden, I come from afar, sworn conqueror in love and in war. Thy father +my coming will rue, for his head in four pieces I'll hew. Then forth as +a bridegroom I'll ride with you, little maid, as my bride.' + +"Now at these words, and his face so kind, and strong, and brave, the +maiden's mind fluttered, the blood through her heartstrings whirled, she +felt she could follow him through the world; but her sixty-nine sisters +were jealous and cried: 'Not so fast, young man! If _she_ be your bride, +_you_ be our younger brother, beside! So do our bidding or go on your +way.' 'Fair sisters,' quoth he, 'let me hear your say!' Now the sisters +vowed he should not succeed, so they took a whole hundred-weight of +seed, as fine as the hundred-weight of sand they mixed it with, then +gave command: 'If you wish to marry our sister, sir, take the seed from +the sand without demur.' + +"Then Râjah Rasâlu stood aghast; but he thought of the cricket's gift at +last, and taking it out of his pocket thrust it into the fire, and a +cloud as dust showed in the sky and the distant whirr of thousands of +wings caused the air to stir, as, dark'ning the day like a fun'ral pall, +a flight of crickets appeared at the call. 'What is our task?' asked his +friend with a laugh; 'only _that_? I've brought too many by half!' So +they set to work with a will indeed, till the sand lay separate from the +seed, and sixty-nine maidens pouted and frowned as they wondered _what_ +new task could be found, to puzzle Rasâlu and keep him there a slave to +the wishes of maidens fair. 'Now swing us all, sir, one by one, when we +grow tired your task is done!'--they laughed in their sleeve, for they +knew right well, that when they'd be tired, none could tell! + +"But Rasâlu laughed: 'What! seventy girls--for my little bride is the +pearl of pearls--and only one man to swing the lot! Shall I spend my +life in such silly rot? No! into one swing the seventy go; I'll fasten +the rope to my mighty bow, and shoot an arrow for all I know, so in +with you, girls, sit all in a row, and don't be frightened, my little +dears, I'll swing till you're tired, so have no fears.' + +"Then the seventy clambered into one swing--so merry, so careless, their +voices ring. And Rasâlu stood in his shining array, as merry and +careless as happy as they. He fastened the ropes to his mighty bow, and +bent till it would no further go; then with a twang he loosed the +string, and like an arrow the laden swing with its burden of seventy +maidens fair, shot like an arrow into the air. Merry and careless with +laugh and smile, up in the sky for many a mile; like a soaring bird in +the distant blue, while merry and careless, and tall and true, Rasâlu +waited upon the plain, till the swing swung back to its place again. +Then he out with his sword and laughed anew, 'Ye have had a fine ride, +ye giggling crew; enough and to spare, so out with you there!' Then he +severed the ropes with one mighty sweep, and the seventy maidens fell in +a heap; and some were broken and some were bruised, and the only one +that was not ill-used was the youngest maid, for she did not drop till +the very last, so she fell on top!" + +And here Prince Akbar used always to laugh gravely and say: "Glad she +didn't tumble down _really_, for she was a nice little girl." + +One day when the peach blossoms had all floated away, leaving in their +place grey-green fluffy ovals that by-and-bye would be luscious ripe +fruits, Foster-father arrived in a great state of excitement just as +Rasâlu had finished swinging his Seventy Maidens. + +"News, news!" he cried; "real news at last; and thank Heaven they are +good! My master, the King, has not only secured shelter, but help, and +hath written to his brother, Prince Askurry, advising him not to listen +to ill advice, but to give in his allegiance at once, when all shall be +forgotten. In token of which clemency he is sending to his +still-dearly-beloved brother, Her Royal Highness the Princess Bakshee +Bâni Begum, that she may be a companion to her half-brother, the +Heir-to-Empire." + +Prince Akbar, who was leaning on Roy's breast, suddenly sat up. "Is that +my sister?" he asked eagerly, "is she a nice little girl like Rasâlu's +bride?" + +Head-nurse laughed. "Nice enough I'll warrant, though I never saw her; +she has been since she was born, six years past, with her mother's +people; but so long as they send no fine ladies of nurses with her she +is welcome." + +Little Prince Akbar stood up and stretched himself, and looked at +Head-nurse critically. + +"Akka will welcome her, and Akka will tell you to be her nurse, and Akka +will swing her a great big swing." + +So far as he was concerned _that_ settled the question; but up at the +Court there were endless questionings of heart. Prince Askurry was, as +ever, in two minds as to what he should do. Cruel brother Kumran, who +was Governor at Kâbul, pressed his advice to stand firm, to send the +child to him, to let him show King Humâyon that paid Persian troops +could not stand up against Indian ones. But Princess Sultanum had really +become fond of the little Heir-to-Empire, and felt sure that if they +only played their cards carefully the king, out of gratitude, would +consent to a betrothal between his son and her little daughter Amina. +And in the end the wife's counsel prevailed. So a better lodgment was +found for the royal children in an old palace surrounded by a lovely +garden, and here, just as the roses were beginning to bloom, little +Prince Akbar, dressed in his best, stood awaiting his sister's arrival. +He had insisted on having, like Râjah Rasâlu, a coat of mail; so +Foster-mother had made him a tight-fitting corselet of silver tissue, in +which he looked very fine indeed, as he stood brandishing a wooden sword +covered with tin foil. + +But when the red and gold bedecked camel did finally come up the +marble-paved pathway with silent soft elastic swing, little Akbar forgot +all about the part he was playing, and when he saw his sister, just ran +up to her and hugged her tight, and said breathlessly: "Ah! you are a +nice little girl!" + +And a very nice little girl she was! Very small for her age, with a +little oval delicate face, big hazel eyes, and brownish hair all plaited +in tiny, tiny little plaits on her forehead. + +And she was dressed just like a grown-up, with little ear-rings and +wristlets and anklets and necklaces and rings, with the dearest, +daintiest of flimsey gauze veils set with little silver stars wound all +about her! Never, said Head-nurse, had been such a darling little +marionette, and when the small person fell gracefully at her brother's +feet and begged his favour in a little piping voice, that stern believer +in court etiquette was perfectly enchanted. + +"It will be a real boon to the First-Gentleman-of-the-World, the +Courtly-one-of-Courts, etc., etc., to have the society of his equals," +she said with a darkling look at Princess Sultanum's Head-nurse, who had +brought Prince Ibrahim and Baby Amina to welcome their cousin. + +But, after all, Bakshee Bâni Begum did not turn out so demure as she +looked! Indeed, when Head-nurse was not by, she was a regular tomboy; +and after a whole morning spent in most lady-like fashion either playing +with her dolls, or stringing beads, while Down, the cat, on her lap +blinked and purred and stared out on the world with her big blue eyes +and her little white feet tucked well inside, she would, when the women +retired to get ready the mid-day meal, spring up like a squirrel, +scattering beads and cats as if they were of no account! Then the +garden would re-echo to children's laughter. + +And she would let Mirak, as she elected to call her brother, swing her +for hours, but she obstinately refused to tumble down! + +"But, Bija," expostulated the little lad, "the princess did tumble down +in the story." + +"I am not a princess _in a story_," said Bija calmly, "I am Her Royal +Highness Princess Bakshee Bâni Begum." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE NIGHT OF RECORD + + +So the summer days passed and winter set in once more. Though more +satisfied, Foster-father felt still that safety depended on King +Humâyon's success or failure. + +So, whenever one of the long files of camels tied together in a string, +head-and-tail, showed on the hill road above Kandahâr, he was off to the +halting-place outside the city to see what news it had collected in its +march from Hindustan; for caravans in those days were the postmen. + +And sometimes he heard one thing, and sometimes another, but as often as +not he returned as he went, without any remedy but patience. + +"Anyhow the child grows in stature and strength," Head-nurse would say, +"and our present lodging is better than our last!" + +Which was true; for the old house of three stories which they now +inhabited was full of little rooms leading one out of the other like a +rabbit-warren. And if there was no furniture in them, so much the better +for the children's games of "I espy" and "Touch who Touch can." + +For Bija and Mirak played such games with infinite zest. As Head-nurse +had foretold, the coming of his little sister had been an immense gain +to the Heir-to-Empire; not only in manners, but also in his outlook upon +life. For Princess Bakshee Bâni Begum was a very determined small +person, who did not in the least see why the elder sister of a boy +should give way to him in all things, simply because he was +Heir-to-Empire. + +"I won't have it, Mirak," she would say with a stamp of her little foot; +"you shall not break my doll's head just because you want to." + +So Prince Akbar, who was full of sound common sense, began to think she +had reason on her side; and this was of great advantage to him, for with +Head-nurse, and Foster-mother and the others, he stood a great chance of +being spoiled. + +And after a time he became quite devoted to the prim little maid, who, +for all her primness in general, could be as wild as a hawk on occasion. + +And out of that arose an incident which, unfortunately, turned Princess +Sultanum against the little lad and so endangered his safety. It came +about in this way. Prince Askurry's son Yakoob was, as has been said, +three years older than Akbar, a lanky, rather weedy lad-ling of nearly +six. Now Prince Askurry was himself a noted wrestler, and was determined +his son should be one also. So he had the boy carefully taught, and set +a good deal of store by the quickness of the little fellow in learning +the grips, and how to trip up an adversary. On high days and holidays, +indeed, Prince Askurry and his wife used often to amuse themselves by +seeing the discomfiture of other less experienced children who were set +up to compete with the young wrestler. Baby Akbar had been one of these, +and being so much younger, he had always gone down before Yakoob's +skill; but he had always taken his overthrow in good part, though +Head-nurse had felt as if she could not keep her fingers off the victor. +It was not fair, she would say afterwards, to match a baby of two with a +child of six, and then she would try to hug the vanquished +Heir-to-Empire and cover him with kisses; but Akbar, always independent, +resented this. "Akbar tumble _him_ down some day," he would say +philosophically; and indeed there seemed every chance of it, for, mere +baby as he was, there was more promise of future strength in his little +finger than in Yakoob's whole body. + +Now, as winter came on, the children were driven indoors for their play, +and Old Faithful at their earnest request, rigged up a swing in a large +empty room in the palace, and here Princess Bija would be swung like the +Seventy Maidens, until Prince Akbar wearied of swinging her; and knowing +that nothing would induce his elder sister to tumble down like the +princesses in the story, would say quite plaintively: + +"Please, Bija, get down; I'm tired of being Rasâlu," when the little +maid would descend gracefully and they would play at something else. + +But one day, just after the New Year, Prince Yakoob came to spend the +day with his cousins, and the children fell to acting the adventures of +Râjah Rasâlu; Yakoob, as the guest, playing the hero's part. + +They got through several of them quite successfully, Princess Bija +making a spirited carpenter's lad and killing his dragon with great +vigour, while the Heir-to-Empire, disguising his deep baby voice in a +high squeak, doubled the parts of the seventy-nine maidens and the +cricket. So all went merry as a marriage bell until Rasâlu had to order +the giggling crew out of the swing. + +Then, of course, Bija refused; whereupon Yakoob, a spoiled boy, cast +aside the tinsel-covered wooden sword, and whipped out from his belt a +toy dagger his father had given him that morning. It was not very sharp, +but very little cuts a taut rope, and one furious slash severed some of +the strands, the weight of the two children did the rest, and there they +were both on the marble floor! + +And unfortunately the "pearl of pearls," Râjah Rasâlu's bride, did _not_ +fall on top. She fell underneath the Heir-to-Empire, and the +Heir-to-Empire was heavy! So there was her poor little lip all cut and +her pretty little nose all bleeding. Then _two_ Head-nurses rushed in, +and _two_ Foster-mothers, and ever so many pairs of nursery attendants, +each taking the part of their respective nurslings, and there was a +terrible to-do, for, of course, one Head-nurse said it was the fault of +the other Head-nurse, and so on. In fact peace did not return until the +party separated and the offender, Prince Yakoob, was being joggetted +back to his mother by his excited attendants, while Princess Bija was +having her swollen nose soothed by cold water. She did not cry much, but +she was terribly indignant with every one, including her brother. + +He couldn't have prevented his cousin from cutting the rope, of course, +but he might have made his cousin's nose bleed also! If she hadn't been +otherwise occupied she could have done it herself; she was quite sure +she could; or at any rate have done something quite as disagreeable! + +She looked very fierce as she spoke, while Akbar listened with grieved +attention. In fact, what Bija would have done, had Head-nurse not had +her in her arms cossetting her, became quite a subject of conversation +between the two children, Bija sitting demurely threading beads and +inventing new methods of just punishment, and the Heir-to-Empire lolling +on the floor pretending to sharpen his tinfoil sword, and interposing +objections such as, "But you couldn't do _that_, Bija, you're not +_strong_ enough," or "_That_ wouldn't be fair, Bija, for he only hurt +you a little, you know." For Akbar was born with a sense of fair-play +and justice which never forsook him, because he always gave _it_ fair +play. + +So the idea of somehow getting the better of Yakoob became a fixed one +in the little lad's mind until an opportunity for action came to him. + +It was about a month afterwards, on the "Festival of Record"; that is to +say, the day when good Mohammedans pray for guidance during the coming +year, and believe that God's Angel, accompanied by the spirits of their +dead ancestors, appears on earth to judge the record of the past year, +and write on the forehead of each man and woman and child what reward or +punishment is deserved in the next. In the evening, thousands of little +lamps are lit, so that there shall be no darkness anywhere, but all +things shall be made manifest, and when the little platters of sweets +and food are set out lest any of the spirits, who come to plead for +their descendants, should feel hungry, it is a very solemn affair; but +the day is generally spent in amusement. + +So Princess Sultanum arranged an entertainment, and, as usual, there was +to be a bout of wrestling between her son and some little companions, +amongst them the Heir-to-Empire. Head-nurse was furious, of course. The +show was invented, she declared, to disgrace the Mighty-in-Pomp, the +Pole-star of the Universe, etc., etc. + +Akbar himself took it very complacently and allowed himself to be +undressed and oiled all over, so as to make a grip very hard; for these +are the Indian customs. And a very sturdy specimen he looked as he stood +up and crossed his arms and then slapped himself with resounding slaps +before crossing them again; also after Indian fashion, for so much he +had learned of wrestling. + +Then the signal was given, and Yakoob, as was his wont, began, in +imitation of grown-up wrestlers, to steal an advance on his adversary. + +But Akbar would none of that. Whether, watching real wrestling, he had +noticed the method of attack he employed, or whether Roy had taught him, +or whether he got it out of his own head, does not matter; but the +little fellow rushed forward furiously and charging like a butting ram, +caught his cousin full in the stomach, then making a snatch at his ankle +tripped him up. So there in a second was Yakoob on his back, and Akbar, +breathless but triumphant, on top of him. + +"Now _you've_ tumbled down," remarked the Heir-to-Empire suavely, as, +astride his cousin's prostrate body, he paused for breath ere getting +up. + +Of course, some people said it wasn't fair; but others admitted that +though not the _polite_ style of wrestling, such a method was strictly +within the rules. All, however, admired the big, bold, strong little +Heir-to-Empire; all but his aunt and uncle; and the former bid +Head-nurse take away her young savage at once, while the latter's crafty +face, uneasy before, settled into a scowl. + +But Head-nurse could hardly contain her joy, even when Foster-father +shook his wise old head and said he would not have had it happen for all +the wealth of the world, for of late, if he were not much mistaken, +things had been shaping ill for his young master, and that very morning +a secret messenger had come in from Kâbul. What it might portend who +could say; but it was bad fortune the child should lose favour at Court +to such slight purpose. + +"Slight, indeed!" sniffed Head-nurse. "Is it not something to have shown +that woman that her brat cannot stand up before true Kingship?" + +"I would it were so, woman," replied Foster-father, "but a child under +three with but two old men and two boys for protection cannot show much +fight." + +Head-nurse tossed her head. "So we women are not to count--" she began; +but Baby Akbar had been listening seriously and now put in with his deep +childish voice, and a wise little shake of the head: + +"And there's Tumbu and Down, too; they can bite and scratch beautifully +for me when they like." + +Whereupon Foster-mother caught him up, and wept, and swore that Heaven +must and would protect such a heart's darling. + +Perhaps it was this conversation which put the idea of getting help into +the children's heads, but after a time it was evident they had some plan +between them, for after watching the women light hundreds of little +lamps, and set out a quantity of tiny platters full of sweets, they +stole off by themselves to an empty room which was almost dark and began +to whisper. + +"I think it had better be grand-dad," said the Heir-to-Empire gravely, +"'cos my father isn't dead yet, and they must be deaders, you know, if +they are _really_ to help." + +"And we'll take the little summer room at the very top of the house, +Mirak, so's we'll be able to stop him on his way down, 'case any one +else has got a platter for him," said Bija the practical. "Now, Mirak, +I'll fetch the sweets if you'll get some lamps. They won't be missed, +you know, if we take them betwixt and between." + +After that there was much secret hurrying up and down stairs and secret +gurglings of delight as the preparations advanced. + +"Oh, Mirak! Won't it be lovely? He's sure to come in when he sees it!" +said the little girl, clasping her hands. "And Old Faithful was saying +that Grand-dad Babar was as good as twenty other men in a fight, so +_then_ you'll be quite safe." + +But Mirak's face was solemn. "If Grand-dad doesn't know it's for him he +won't come in, and he won't eat the sweets either. It's greedy to eat +sweets as doesn't belong to you, and _he_ wasn't greedy. Old Faithful +says he wasn't. He was a real King." + +"Don't you think he might be greedy just to help you?" suggested Bija +mournfully; but after thinking a little she clapped her hands. "I have +it, Mirak! If his name was on it that would do! I think I could write +'Ba-ba.' It's only the two first letters, you see, and I know _them_; +and you could prick yourself for some blood to write with, and I could +use my little finger as a pen. It's very, very tiddly wee." + +It was, indeed! and Mirak sat large-eyed in admiration of his sister's +ingenuity, while she, mistress of the situation, did this and that until +even she was satisfied. And really the little arched and domed cupola +set in Eastern fashion on the roof, looked quite pretty with the little +glittering lights in a square on the white marble floor, and the platter +of sweets placed in the middle of the square, whereon in smeared red +letters showed this: + +[Illustration: BA BA] + +"And now, Mirak!" chattered Bija, "we'll go down and go to bed like good +boys and girls, and then when the others are saying their prayers and +going to sleep we can come up again and sleep here." + +"Won't it be very cold, Bija?" asked Mirak, whose little nose was half +frost-bitten already, for a cold wind was blowing off the snow hills. + +"We will bring quilts," said the little lady with a superior air. + +So, about an hour afterwards, after the children had been put to bed and +their elders had begun the serious work of watching and waiting and +dozing through the night, two little figures, well wrapped up in quilted +cotton gowns and dragging quilted cotton blankets behind them, stole up +the stairs to the roof of the house. + +"I'm going to ask God to let him come," said Baby Akbar solemnly. So +they both touched the cold marble floor with their warm little foreheads +and said: + +"Please Great God! Let our grand-dad Babar come and take care of us, and +be kind to us, and not let the Angel write nasty things on our foreheads +for this next year!" + +Then they cuddled themselves closely together in the blankets and were +soon fast asleep. + +So fast asleep that even when, after the short hullaballoo which +followed on the discovery that they were not in their beds, they were +traced to the roof, they did not thoroughly wake up, but were carried +down again without knowing much about it. + +"Shall I blow out the lights?" asked Roy, as Head-nurse prepared to +descend also. + +[Illustration: _So they both touched the cold marble floor with their +warm little foreheads._] + +Head-nurse looked round to Foster-father for his opinion. + +"No!" he said shortly, "leave them! The children have asked some one to +eat those sweets. Let be! They may want all the help they can get." + +So all the night long the little lamps twinkled and twinkled. + +But when morning came there was not a sweet left! + +"It must have been the rats," said Meroo, who, as cook, had gone up to +see what he could save. "I saw the tail of one disappearing." + +But Foster-father said swiftly: "I would it were some other helper, for +the time has come for help. Prince Askurry hath sent to say we start for +Kâbul and cruel brother Kumran at noon to-day!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +A WINTER MARCH + + +It was only too true! The escort which was to see them on the road was +already occupying the garden, the horses champing their bits and +fretting because the long branches of the roses at which they snatched +held nothing but thorns. + +Prince Akbar, indeed, was too much interested in watching them and +wondering if they were very hungry to take much heed of anything else, +but Princess Bakshee Bâni Begum, who was a very practical little person, +at once began to pack up her favourite doll. + +"You had better choose out some toy, Mirak," said she, "or you will be +wanting to play with mine, and I won't let you." + +But Mirak was busy with the horses. + +"I sha'n't want anything but my sword," he replied valiantly. "I'm a big +boy now, and I'm going to play with real things." Then he turned to one +of the troopers with a quaint air of authority. "Your horse is too thin. +When I am King I shall see that my men give their horses enough to eat." + +Foster-father, who overheard the child, paused in the hasty arrangements +he was making to look at the little Heir-to-Empire and put up a prayer +that the fates might let him be King; but the future looked black +indeed. The road to Kâbul must still be blocked with snow, even if more +did not fall by the way. A likely happening, with the bitter north wind +and the dull lowering sky. And if the young child escaped the danger of +extreme cold and extreme hardship, what might not be before him in Kâbul +itself? + +Better, it might have been, for those in charge of him, to have risked +all, taken refuge with the old mountain chief, and died like brave men. +There was but one comfort in the whole affair. Prince Askurry must know +that Humâyon or his friends were close at hand, or he would not be in +such a desperate hurry to send away the Heir-to-Empire. + +And this, indeed, was the truth. The fear of a rescue was so real and +immediate that Prince Askurry had had to make his decision in a minute. +So there was scarcely any time for preparation, and by noon the party +had started for the three hundred and odd miles of mountainous country +that lay between them and Kâbul. Only the children's faces were +cheerful; even Roy's showed grave and anxious. + +They rode fast and far till dusk fell, when they had covered full twenty +miles. For the last few, both the women, who were mounted behind +troopers, had almost been dropping with fatigue, but the captain of the +escort was under orders to go as far as possible that night, so he +pushed on to reach a place called Robât. Here they were all +unceremoniously bundled into one large room, and by the steady tramp +through the night of a sentry outside, Foster-father judged they were +complete prisoners. Luckily they were given plenty of fuel to replenish +the fire that roared in the wide chimney, so the elders squatted round +it and dozed, holding the children in their laps. They slept as soundly +as if they had been in their beds, and so did Tumbu and Down, who had +both insisted on being of the party; the latter having quite calmly +taken her place on Horse-chestnut's broad wavy back on the wide cushion +of felt which Foster-father used as a saddle-cloth. She had left her +kitten behind her as it was now quite a big tom-cat, and able to take +care of itself. + +In a way, both Tumbu and Down had already been of service to their young +master, for the troopers of the Escort had been amused by the golliwog's +gambols, and had admired Down's dignity, so they were more inclined to +treat the whole party in kindly fashion. Indeed, next morning, the +Captain of the Escort, whose anxiety about a rescue had, perhaps, been +lessened by the uneventful night, was much less strict in his orders, +and took Prince Akbar on his own saddle and let him hold the reins. + +"He is a brave, bold lad," he said to Foster-father; "were he to live, +he would make a good King." Then he frowned, his mouth hardened and +Foster-father, watching him, augured ill for the safety of the +Heir-to-Empire. For the time, however, all went well, though +Foster-father remarked that they kept off the direct track as much as +possible; no doubt to avoid pursuit. And at Ghuznee, where they halted +the second night, the Captain of the Escort sent nearly all his men into +the city by one gate, taking with them, despite their protestations, Roy +and Meroo and Old Faithful, while he himself, with but one or two +troopers, Foster-father, Foster-mother, Head-nurse and the two children, +entered by another and found lodging in the caravanserai as common +travellers. Evidently, Foster-father surmised, it was thought best for +some reason or another to conceal the fact that the Heir-to-Empire was +being carried off to Kâbul; and something happened that evening to make +him certain that this was the case. It was dark ere they arrived, so the +other travellers in the _serai_ took little heed of the small party, +especially as there were women and children in it, and it is not polite +in Eastern countries to take any notice of them. But while Head-nurse +and Foster-mother were busy settling down the children's quilts in the +little dark archway room, which was all the accommodation available, and +Foster-father had gone to purchase them some milk for their supper, the +little Prince and Princess, greatly excited at the novelty of their +surroundings, wandered out into the dark square enclosure, where fires +burned here and there in the open, lit by travellers who were cooking +their evening meal. They stood by these watching what was going on with +quick interest, answering questions that were put to them with frank +smiles and laughter. Being dressed in heavy sheepskin outer coats to +keep out the cold, no one guessed that they were other than they seemed, +poor travellers' children, until at the end of a long row of picketed +horses at the further end of the courtyard, Akbar saw Horse-chestnut, +Foster-father's pony. Now Foster-father had only had time to tie the +poor beast head and heel, so there the honest creature stood, looking +very dejected, with emptiness before it, while the troopers' horses +beside him were enjoying great bundles of green grass. The little fellow +flushed up in a moment; he called loudly to a man who stood near: + +"Ho! slave there! bring my pony grass--dost hear? and be quick!" + +The man laughed. "Alâh!" he said; "whose son be you to give orders that +fashion?" + +"Whose son?" echoed the child passionately. "I am----" + +But Bija clung to his arm. "H'st, Mirak!" she whispered. "Remember what +Head-nurse said that we were not to tell----" + +Akbar stood irresolute; he was wise beyond his years. "But +Horse-chestnut must not be hungry. I won't have it!--he shall have +grass," he said angrily; then, without another word he walked up to the +next horse, took a great armful of the grass that lay in front of it and +scattered it before his favourite. + +"So there! slave!" he cried defiantly with a stamp of his foot. + +The man looked at him curiously, said nothing, but went over to some +others and began to whisper. + +A minute afterwards, Foster-father returning, found the children the +centre of a little crowd eager in enquiry whence they came, whither they +were going, and, ere he could get them safely to their quarters, the +attention of the Captain of the Escort had been arrested, he came out +frowning and fuming. + +"We march again in an hour," he said angrily to Foster-father. "On thy +head be it if thou can'st not keep thy young fighting cock in +order--'twill be all over the town by midnight!" + +Foster-father did not often let his temper get the better of his +prudence, but he could not resist saying mildly: "Kingship is like the +musk-bag, friend, that was broken at the royal child's birth. It +diffuses its perfume over the habitable world, and none can mistake it." + +The Captain of the Escort shrugged his shoulders. "Then it shall smell +in the wilderness, friend; for I run no risks of rescue this side the +passes. So bid the women give the young crowing cockerel his supper and +prepare to start again. There will be a moon in another hour and we can +push on. Meanwhile I go to warn the other folk where to rejoin us." + +It was a bitter cold night. The wind blew keenly from the snow before +them, and by the time they reached a miserable village, high up on the +slopes of the pass, every one save the two children was chilled to the +bone; but they, well happed in all the coverings the fugitives could +compass, were warm; Akbar, in Foster-father's arms, with Down, the cat, +cuddled up beside him, and acting as a hot bottle! Once more there was +plenty of fuel in the rude hut where they found shelter, and stiffened +limbs and half-frosted fingers soon began to thaw. Tumbu, who had kept +himself supple by, as usual, bounding about, was the only one of the +party who did not doze off at once, now comparative comfort was reached. + +But he was curiously restless. Over and over again he rose, went to the +door and seemed to listen. Then he began to whine a little, then to +scratch at the door as if he wanted to get out. Finally, finding no one +paid any attention, he let loose one short, sharp bark, which awakened +Head-nurse, who with an impatient look to see if her children had been +disturbed, and an angry whisper, "Go, then! thou mean-born beast," rose +softly, set open the door for a second, then closed it again, shivering +with the chill blast that swept in. But Tumbu was out like a flash and +disappeared in the darkness. + +It must have been an hour afterward that every one's slumber was +disturbed by the most insistent barking that ever was heard. Even Akbar, +usually the soundest of sleepers, sat up and rubbed his eyes. + +"The evil-dispositioned hound!" said Head-nurse in drowsy anger. "I +deemed he had left us forever, and good riddance, too." + +But little Prince Akbar, half awake, protested in defence of his dear +dog. + +"Tumbu only barks when he wants something, nurse; go and see what it +is." + +"A likely story!" cried Head-nurse. + +"Well," interposed Foster-father philosophically, "some one must go if +any one is to sleep." + +Whereat he went to the door; but Tumbu on the doorstep refused to come +in; he barked, bounced off, and returned the next minute to whine and +bark again. + +"He only wants something; go and see what it is," came Mirak's +deep-toned voice. "I know he wants something." + +"Lo! man alive!" grumbled Head-nurse; "shut the door whichever way it +is. I perish with cold!" + +Foster-father was a wise man, so to avoid further discussion he stepped +out and shut the door behind him. Thus for a minute or two there was +peace. Then Foster-father's voice rose urgently from outside. + +"Open! I say open! Quick!" + +Foster-mother flew to obey, and her husband staggered in, bearing some +one in his arms. "God send the boy be not dead," he said as he laid down +his burden. + +It was Roy the Râjput! + +"I found him quite close, frozen by the cold," he continued, as they set +to work before the fire to rub the poor, stiff limbs and force a few +drops of hot milk through the blue lips. + +It was some time before a faint sigh, a quiver of the eyelids told that +Roy was once more coming back to the world; but after that it was not +long before he could sit up and tell them what had happened. + +He had managed to evade the eyes of the troopers, and had arrived at the +_serai_ just after the startled party had left it; had followed on their +traces until he had lost his way. In despair he had been stumbling along +aimlessly when Tumbu had suddenly appeared. Following his lead, he had +struggled on, gradually benumbed by cold, until at last his feet had +failed him, and he remembered no more. + +"Tumbu wanted Roy!" said little Prince Akbar gravely. "I told you he +wanted something." + +And Tumbu, hearing his name, roused his furry head from his furry paws +and looked at his young master with his sharp, beady, black eyes, as who +should say: + +"Of course I did, because I knew you wanted him." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +SNOW AND ICE + + +The Captain of the Escort was not over pleased to find Roy when he came +in the next morning, and said curtly that the boy, having found his way +on foot, must make it on foot, and that none should wait for him. To +this the Râjput lad made no demur. His long limbs on that hilly country +were more than an equal even for Horse-chestnut's climbing powers, and +the cold was so intense that it was a relief not to sit still on +horseback. So he raced on ahead with Tumbu or held by Horse-chestnut's +stirrup, and, as he ran, told stories to amuse the Heir-to-Empire; for +neither of the nurses was in a fit state to do more than sit tight, tied +by leathern belts to the troopers behind whom they rode. + +About sunset time they arrived at a lonely shed at the beginning of the +highest bit of the main road, which they were now obliged to take, as +there was no other way over the mountains ahead of them. Here, at the +end--as poor Head-nurse wailed--of the habitable world, the Captain of +the Escort had expected to find the remainder of his men; but they were +not there, and as his provisions were running short, he could not go on +till they did arrive. So, in an ill humor, he ordered a halt, and the +whole outwearied party hastily cooked themselves a meagre supper and +lay down in hot haste for rest at last. And rest they had, for that +night the snow, which had been threatening, began to fall, and by +daylight a good nine inches lay on the ground. The children, who had +never seen such thick snow before, were delighted; but Foster-father +looked fearfully at the passes before them, while the Captain of the +Escort fumed and fretted at the non-arrival of his men. Unless they came +soon, he said, if more snow fell, the pass immediately in front of them +might be closed for days. Not that there seemed much likelihood of +further storm, for the sky was blue as blue, the air, though keen, +pleasant. About noon, there being still no sign of the missing men with +provisions, the captain became impatient, and told Foster-father curtly +that he and his three troopers would ride back some fifteen miles to a +village, where perchance the others were waiting, and that meanwhile the +rest of them could wait till he returned; there were provisions enough +for a day or two. Foster-father protested against being left alone in +the snow with but a boy, two helpless women and two young children; but +the Captain only laughed and rode off, taking with him Horse-chestnut, +as a precaution, doubtless, against any attempt to escape with the +Heir-to-Empire. + +There was nothing to be done, Foster-father felt, save to wait with what +patience he could; but his heart sank as, while Head-nurse and +Foster-mother slept, outwearied by the past two days' fatigue, and the +children under Roy's care played snowballs, he sat and watched the sky. +At first there was only a cloud or two in the west; then a sudden wind +sprang up and drove the fine, powdery snow in drifts. But still the sun +shone, though it seemed to grow a little dimmer, a little paler; +finally, about two hours after the others had left, Foster-father felt +uncertain whether it was all drift that seemed to fill the air with a +fine white film, or whether fresh snow was falling. + +An hour later there was no doubt about it. Great flakes were circling +down silently, the sun had vanished, all things had become grey. +Head-nurse heaped up the fire, set a quilt before it for the children to +play upon, and then opened out the wallets to see what she could find +for supper. There was not much left, and she was about to knead up all +the flour to bake hearth cakes when Foster-father crossed over to her +and whispered: + +"Half will do, sister; otherwise there may be none for to-morrow." + +"None?" she echoed. "But they will be back----" + +Foster-father pointed to the snow that, driven now by a rising wind, had +drifted underneath the door. "Not through that, sister! We may have to +stay here till the weather moderates, for none save friends will risk +their lives, and these men love us not!" + +But even as he spoke there was a bustling at the door, Tumbu flew +forward, barking loudly, and in stumbled---- + +Old Faithful and Meroo the cook-boy! + +They were heavily burdened, half-blinded by the snow, and they had a +disquieting tale to tell. About twelve miles back, just as the snow +began to fall, their party, which had been delayed on the main road by a +flooded river, had come upon the Captain of the Escort and his three +troopers. Then had ensued a hurried consultation, in which several of +the men had flatly refused to go on in face of the coming storm. It was, +they said, sheer madness. Better return to the nearest township and +await better weather. As for the prisoners, they had food enough to keep +life in them for a day or two, and after that they must take their +chance. Whereupon Old Faithful and Meroo had offered to go on, carrying +some of the provisions they had with them, and trusting to be able to +follow the tracks left by the horses in the snow. This had been agreed +upon, and--here they were! + +"For," as Old Faithful went on, "see you, I am not afraid of snow, +having been with Babar the brave (on whom be peace) when he marched from +Herât to Kâbul and was nigh lost on the Great Zirrin pass." + +Little Akbar, who was playing at cat's cradle with his sister, looked up +eagerly. "Was Grand-dad ever in the snow? 'Cos if he was, he's quite +sure to help us, for he ate all our sweeties, didn't he, Bija?" + +The little girl shook her head and put her finger to her lip, in warning +to him not to give away their secret; but Head-nurse was sharp. + +"Ohé," said she, "so that was it! Listen, Foster-father! these babes set +the platter for Firdoos Gita Makâni--on whom be peace! Is not that good +omen for us all?" + +"Mayhap!" said Foster-father, clearing his throat cautiously, "and my +heart is comforted also by the presence of Faithful, who was with the +great king in his battle with snow and ice." + +The Heir-to-Empire dropped his cat's cradle and went over to the old +trooper and stood before him with grave, questioning eyes. + +"Is it so, slave? Were you with Grand-dad in the snow?" + +"Most-Honourable! I was," replied the old man boastfully, "and I +remember as if 'twas yesterday----" + +"Tell us the tale, trooper," interrupted Head-nurse. "'Twill hearten us +all up ere we sleep, since there is naught else to be done." + +"That will I, mother," replied Old Faithful with alacrity, "and in the +very words of my revered master as written in that book of books, his +Memoirs, which doubtless the most Learned-of-the-Universe will read +some day." + +Mirak, who was back at his cat's cradle, looked up with grave +superiority. + +"Nay, slave! They shall read it to Akbar. He will be King." + +"Hark to him!" ejaculated Foster-mother, delighted. "His words are all +fortunate." + +"We have need of more fortune by works, not words, woman," said +Foster-father sternly. "So proceed, friend Faithful; the recitation of +brave deeds can never come amiss." + +Old Faithful settled himself by the fire and began. "First you must know +that Firdoos Gita Makâni, or Babar the brave, had to get back to Kâbul, +because wicked men were waiting to be punished. Now, it was winter time, +and none dreamed of travelling over the passes at that season. But +Firdoos Gita Makâni was not one to hold back when a thing had to be +done. So we started, and this is what happened, in his own words: + +"From the time we left Herât it snowed incessantly; the farther we +advanced the deeper it became. After three days it reached above the +stirrups. In places the horses' feet did not reach the ground; yet the +snow continued to fall. One Bishâi was our guide. I do not know whether +it was from old age, or from his heart failing him, but having once lost +the road, he never could find it again; so, as it was not to be found +with all our exertions, we were brought to a complete stand. Seeing no +other remedy, we returned back to a place where there was abundance of +firewood, and despatched sixty or seventy chosen men to retrace our +footsteps and find on lower ground any people who might be wintering +there, and bring back another guide. We halted thus for three or four +days awaiting the return of our messengers; but when they did appear it +was without any one to show the way. Placing my reliance on God alone, +therefore, I went on. For about a week we continued beating down the +snow so as to form a road, only advancing two or three miles a day. +Accompanied by ten or fifteen of my personal followers, I worked myself +with the others. Every step we took forward we sank up to the middle, +but still we went on, trampling till we got firm foothold. And as the +first person wearied of the exertion, he stood back and another took his +place. So, after a time, we managed to lead on a riderless horse. It +generally sank to the stirrups, and after floundering on a dozen paces +was worn out. But the second did better. Thus in this way the twenty or +so of us managed to prepare a sort of road for the rest, who with +hanging heads (though many of them had seemed our best men) advanced +along it without even dismounting! But this was no time for reproof or +authority. Every man of spirit hastens to such work of himself, and the +rest do not count. In this way after three or four days we reached a +cave at the foot of the Zirrin Pass. That day the wind and storm were +dreadful; the snow fell in quantities; we all expected to meet death +together. The snow was so deep, the path so narrow, the days were at +shortest. The first of the troops reached the cave while it was yet +daylight; but some men had to wait for morning on horseback. The cave +seemed to be too small for all, so I would not go in. I felt that for me +to be warm and comfortable while my men were in snow and drift; for me +to sleep at my ease while my followers were in trouble and distress, +would be unfair. I felt that whatever their sufferings might be, I ought +to share them. So I took a hoe and dug down into the snow as deep as my +breast; this gave me some shelter from the wind, and I sat down in the +hole. By bedtime prayers the snow had fallen so fast that four inches of +it had settled on my head----'" + +Here Old Faithful paused and shook his head gravely. "His Majesty," he +went on, "writes in the margin, 'That night I caught a cold in my ear.' +It is only wonder he did not catch his death." + +"But what happened next?" asked Akbar impatiently. "Did poor Grand-dad +sit in the snow all night?" + +"No, Most-Honourable. He goes on to say, 'The cave was properly explored +and found to be large enough to hold us all. So I ordered all to go in, +and thus we escaped from the terrible cold, snow, and drift, into a +wonderfully warm, safe, comfortable place. And next morning the snow and +tempest ceased and we moved on, trampling down the snow as before; but +ere we quite got through the pass, night fell. Though the wind had +fallen, the cold was dreadful, and several lost fingers, toes, even +hands and feet from frostbite, as we waited for dawn in the open. As +early as we could we moved down the glen, descending, without road, over +difficult and precipitous places, the extreme depth of the snow enabling +us to pass over countless dangers. Thus our enemy became our friend. + +"'It was evening prayer time ere we got from the mouth of the valley, +bedtime prayers when we reached the village of Auleng. The people +carried us to their warm houses, brought out fat sheep for us, a +superfluity of hay and grain for our horses, with abundance of wood to +kindle our fires. To pass from the cold and snow into such a village +with its warm houses, to find plenty of good food as we did after days +of hunger is an enjoyment that can only be understood by those who have +suffered similar hardship, have endured such heavy distress.'" + +Old Faithful paused and sighed. "That is so like Firdoos Gita Makâni," +he said. "When danger was over he would sit down and write beautiful +things about it; but when it was there he never seemed to think of +anything but trampling it down." + +"That is like all Kings," said Roy proudly, "and brave men are always +Kings in danger." + +But Foster-father was looking at the fire. "Abundance of fuel," he +murmured, "that is what we have not." + +"We shall not need it here, friend," replied the old trooper. "Meroo, +remove that log; 'tis too hot as it is, and if the snow continues to +drift as it was doing a while agone--" he moved to the door, which +opened inward and set it wide. A great white wall reaching almost to the +eaves showed filling up the doorway! "It is as I thought," he said; "we +are prisoned here till the storm passes. Thank God we have provision +enough for some days." + +"And thanks to others also," put in Foster-father heartily; "but for +thee and Meroo, old friend----" + +"As Firdoos Gita Makâni used to say," remarked the old man with an air +of great virtue, "'Gratitude comes when danger has gone,' so she must +wait a bit yet." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +OVER THE PASS + + +Gratitude had longer to wait than even Foster-father, who always took a +gloomy view of things, had thought for, since the next morning found the +shed almost hidden beneath a snowdrift. Still, as Old Faithful remarked, +it was not altogether to be regretted since the covering kept out the +cold and allowed them to save their small store of firewood for cooking. +The lack of light was, however, terrible until Old Faithful, whose +experience with Babar the brave made him full of expedients, hit on the +plan of setting Tumbu to work to dig out a hole through the drift, for +they had nothing with them to use as a spade. What he did was to set the +door wide, cut a narrow tunnel with his sword as far as he could reach +in the banked-up snow, and thrust a bit of food in its farther end. Then +Roy brought Tumbu and said: + +"Fetch it out, good dog! fetch it out!" while Mirak and Bija looked on +delightedly, calling, "Good dog! Dig it out! dig it out!" Tumbu, the +most playful of animals, soon entered into the fun, and set to work +shovelling out the snow till he found the food. Then another bit was +thrust in, always in an upward direction. + +"'Tis slow," said Old Faithful, "but not so slow as trampling down a +road!" + +Not half so slow, for after a time Tumbu seemed to understand what they +would be at, and needed no more bits of food to make him dig, but went +on solidly, every now and again giving a yap just to make himself +believe he really _was_ digging something out. In fact, he got on so +fast that Roy, who, as the slimmest of the party, had to keep the tunnel +clear of the dug-out snow, had almost more to do than he could manage. +It was frightfully exciting, and Mirak and Bija were dancing about, +unable to keep still, when a sudden shaft of light that burst into the +dark shed, and a furiously joyful barking that came down the funnel as +if it had been a speaking trumpet, announced Tumbu's arrival in free +air. + +"Now, we shall do," said Old Faithful with much importance. "Lo! how one +clever idea begets another. But for Firdoos Gita Makâni trampling a road +I should never have thought of a tunnel!" + +Roy, however, was already hard at work improving on the idea by widening +the way with Old Faithful's sword, being only let from doing more by +Head-nurse's exclamation that the melting snow would flood the shed. + +"Let be, boy!" said Foster-father; "the hot air from within, rising +through the tunnel, will melt the sides by degrees. To-morrow will see +it large enough for you, at any rate, to pass through." + +And so it proved. Not next day, but the day after, not only Roy, but +Mirak and Bija, had managed to climb up to the outer world by the +notches which Roy cut in the snow walls. + +It was a strange, chill world which they saw. Far as the eye could +reach, nothing but snow, the air frosty and sharp, though the sun was +shining once more. Mirak was keen to snowball, but Roy would not hear of +it; the snow was melting with the faint heat of the mid-day sun, he +said, and a step might make the frost film break, and down into the +powdery drift they might go, never to come up again. So they only stood +looking about them for a few minutes and then prepared to go back. + +"Take care, my lord, take care!" cried Roy, as Mirak, who was preparing +to descend legs foremost, as he had been told to do, suddenly looked up +with a face full of mischief, let go with his hands, and pouf! +disappeared down the slippery tunnel like a pea in a pea-shooter. A +burst of laughter from below told them he had arrived safely, and +nothing would suit Bija but to do likewise, Roy being still too tight a +fit to slide quickly. In fact, the children were eager to climb up once +more and do it again, but Head-nurse said she could not hear of it; +their clothes were wet enough as it was; besides, it was most +unlady-like for a real Princess! + +The days, therefore, did not pass so uncomfortably, though pressing +anxiety sat on Foster-father's honest face, and every time Roy returned +from a climb up to outer air he would ask him if he had seen anything. + +"Nothing," Roy would reply, "and the snow wastes but little, we are so +high up." + +At last one night, after the children were asleep, Foster-father +summoned a council of war. It would not be wise, he said, to remain +where they were, without making any effort at escape, until their +provisions were exhausted. Then they would be helpless. Now they still +had enough for two or three days, and it behooved them to make a +push--but whither? + +"Not back on our steps," advised Old Faithful. "Firdoos Gita Makâni +always said: 'No retreat till there is no advance.' Besides, see you, if +we go down, the snow will be melting and give us no foothold. But at +night the frost will hold on the pass. And it is but little farther to +the next shelter; for, see you, I have come twice this way from +Kandahâr; but never the other way back. So my memory of land-marks--if +there be any--would be nothing on the downward journey. But upward it +might come to life. Again, upward there is less chance of missing the +way, as all the valleys converge to the Pass, whereas downward they +spread out in different directions." + +In fact, there were so many points in favour of advance that the +decision was made for it, and the next night settled on for the start. +There were not many preparations to make except for the women, who had +to bake what flour they had into hearth cakes. They had a little wheat +and pulse, too, and this they roasted and tied up in the corners of +their veils. Everything that was heavy had to be left behind, for they +knew that even unburdened they might have difficulty in getting the +frost film on the snow to bear their weight. It was a bright, starlight +night when, the snow tunnel having been enlarged by Roy, regardless of +flooding the shed, the whole party crept out and stood on the wide, +snowy expanse. Tumbu was first, and with joyful yaps began to career +about in circles curved like a comma, biting and snapping at the snow. +Down came last, and _meaowed_ piteously, lifting up first one cold foot, +then another, and shaking it in disgust. Finally an idea seemed to come +into her head; she made a bound toward Tumbu, and the next moment was on +his back, clawing onto his fluffy black fur; whereat everybody laughed. +So, with many a prayer for guidance, the little party set off, Old +Faithful leading the way. At first they managed pretty well, though the +men and women, being heavy, sank over the ankles at each step. But both +Bija and Mirak, and even Roy, being light, found the surface hard enough +to bear them; so they ran on ahead and chattered and laughed, the whole +business being to them a huge joke. Thus an hour passed cheerfully +enough; then Bija began to get tired, and Foster-father took her in his +arms. The result sent his heart into his mouth with sudden fear, sudden +certainty that no help could come that way. Even her slight additional +weight sent him almost waist deep into the snow. He could scarcely move! +And ere long the Heir-to-Empire would doubtless weary also; then what +was to be done? For every hour after midnight would bring the thawing +sun nearer and nearer; they might have to remain on the Pass till night +brought frost again, and in that case what would become of the children? + +Then suddenly his eye caught Tumbu, who was marching along sullenly, +Down nestling, fast clawed in his broad, furry back. Could the dog carry +a child? A creature with four feet had greater purchase of foothold than +one with two. + +"Roy," he said, "turn the cat off and put the Heir-to-Empire on the +dog's back; he must be tired also." + +Mirak, nothing loath, climbed quickly to his mount; but ere he had +settled himself on its back Tumbu had begun to sink slowly. The little +lad's weight was too much for even four feet; there was a struggle, over +went the little Prince, and both he and Tumbu had to be picked up and +set on their legs again on a fresh, unbroken place. + +Foster-father looked in despair at Old Faithful, and for a minute no +one said anything. Then the old man's face lit up. "Lo! I had forgotten +it utterly, but the time and place bring memory back. Firdoos Gita +Makâni--who knew all things under the sun--had a favourite horse, that +strained itself falling into a drift. They were for leaving it to die, +but that did not suit Firdoos Gita Makâni, who was kind to all God's +creatures. So, having read of the like somewhere, he set us to make a +sort of platform with our lances and blankets underneath the poor brute, +and so we dragged him over the snow, until we reached a place where +there was water and grass." + +"We have no lances," said Foster-father, "and there is no wood." He +looked around helplessly. + +"My lord has a sword," put in Roy eagerly, "and so has Faithful. If he +were to tie them crossways to the scabbards--" He had already thrown off +his skin coat and was unwinding his long muslin waistband to tear it +into strips to use as a cord. + +"It is worth the trying, friend Foster-father," said Old Faithful, +unbuckling his sword. + +"Aye!" continued Roy, elated with the idea, "and Tumbu can drag it. He +makes no mark on the snow, so it will be smooth and slippy--and the +curved scabbards will be like runners." + +His dexterous fingers were hard at work binding the long sword blades to +place. Then a strip of woollen shawl was fastened to them as a seat, +Meroo's turban served as harness, and in less time than could have been +imagined the quaint sledge was ready for trial. + +Mirak sat on it first. "Now then, Tumbu! Good dog!" said Roy in a +flutter for fear of failure. Tumbu turned round, looked at his little +master with a broad grin of red tongue and white teeth, gave a little +grunt, and started. + +The sledge slid on over the frozen snow quite easily! + +"Now praise be to God!" cried Foster-father, overjoyed. + +"And Grand-dad!" said the little Prince, who always listened to +everything; "but I knew he would help us, didn't you, Bija?" + +"But I want to go on the thing, too," she whimpered. + +"Mayhap it might support them both," put in Head-nurse; "she is but a +featherweight, and there is plenty of room." + +Ere five minutes were over the little party, greatly heartened up by +finding this unexpected way out of their difficulties, started once +more, Roy encouraging Tumbu, who, in truth, seemed to feel his task +quite a light one, while Foster-father, in his relief and gratitude, +allowed Down, the cat, to creep once more inside his fur coat. Her +weight made him sink a little farther into the snow, but he was strong, +and felt he could have done more for the sake of the children's safety. + +On and on they went, the frost film giving firmer foothold on the +top of the pass, while the chill which always precedes dawn took away +still more from the difficulty of Tumbu's task. In fact, the curved +scabbards slipped over the hard snow as if it had been ice. + +[Illustration: _Ahead of them, a shadow showed, a shambling shadow! +Tumbu ... with a bound was off full tilt after it._] + +So they went on till a glimmer of dawn showed them that the summit had +been reached, the downward slope begun. But still, far and near, nothing +but snow was to be seen. Then suddenly, ahead of them, a shadow showed, +a shambling shadow! Tumbu stopped dead, sniffed, then with a bound was +off full tilt after it, the sledge, with the two children in it, flying +behind him! + +For an instant the others were too much astonished to speak. Then Roy, +with frantic cries to Tumbu to come back, was off after them. In vain! +As he crested a little rise he saw by the growing light a big brown +Isabelline bear shambling along contentedly, seeming to go no pace at +all, yet gaining steadily on the sledge that was giving chase. + +"I will follow as fast as I can!" panted the Râjput lad breathlessly, as +Foster-father, Meroo, and Old Faithful, hampered by their greater +weight, ran up. "It is a bear; but they cannot catch it--and Tumbu will +tire--then he always comes back. Follow you on my tracks with the +women." + +With that he was off like an arrow from a bow behind the bear, Tumbu, +the sledge, the Heir-to-Empire and the Princess Bakshee Bâni Begum, who +by this time had all disappeared behind the hilly horizon. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +IN THE VALLEY + + +Roy ran and ran and ran until he was breathless; yet still he ran, until +little by little he recovered his breath again as wild animals do. Every +moment he hoped to see Tumbu either returning or standing still, panting +and waiting for the others to come up. But he saw nothing save, +stretching away as far as the eye could reach, a smooth, not over steep, +snowy slope. So far there was little fear of the sledge being overset. + +Then, after he had run a long way, he paused, for there were now two +tracks instead of one. The marks of the bear went up a little side +valley, the marks of the sledge went down the slope. What could have +happened? Had Tumbu in his haste missed the bear's trail? That was not +likely. Having come so far, had he determined to go on? That was not +likely either, unless the children had urged him forward. Knowing +Mirak's bold, adventurous spirit, this seemed possible, and Roy's heart +sank; but he started off running again, knowing that no matter what had +happened he must follow his little master, and follow fast. + +But as he ran downward and downward the frost film on the snow became +less and less firm. The sun was rising now, and even its earliest rays +seemed to melt his foothold, and he began to sink at every step. The +sledge, however, appeared from the faint marks it left to have slid on +without difficulty. No doubt, he thought, because of the children's +light weight, and because the platform between the swords and scabbards +which supported them was so large; many times larger than his own feet! +Why, even Tumbu's four broad, furry paws had sunk into the snow a +little, and would doubtless have sunk more but for the pace at which he +must have been going. + +The sledge was the thing! How clever it was of Old Faithful to remember +Firdoos Gita Makâni's way of saving his horse; but after all, when one +came to think of it, the thanks were due to Babar the brave for being a +real King, kind-hearted to animals. + +And now Roy's task became dangerous as well as hard, for every moment +lessened the firmness of the ice film. And he was now running down a +shallow valley, which was completely blocked up by drift, except in the +very middle, where every now and again you got a glimpse of a roaring +torrent--kept unfrozen by its snowy covering--hollowing its way +downward; but for the most part it was invisible, the only sign of it +being a roar, a tremble beneath your feet. Thus he was, as it were, on a +snow bridge, of which the surface might at any moment give way. And that +meant certain death in the dark pools below. In one place, indeed, he +was all but lost; however, a wild leap landed him on safe ground, and +with a gasp of fear, not for himself, but for the children ahead of +him, he ran on, comforted by the sight of the sledge track going on and +on. + +After a while he had to cease running from sheer fatigue; but still he +plodded on, telling himself that even half an hour would have made a +difference in the snow. That where he found danger, the children might +have found safety; and always before him that track of the +scabbard-sledge showed him that so far, at any rate, all had gone well. + +And then, as he turned a sharp curve in the shallow, snow-covered +valley, he saw a little below him something that made him turn sick with +fear. It was the sledge, empty, deserted! A second glance, however, +showed him that it was not overset. Those who had been in it must have +left it of their own accord; and the cause of this was soon made clear. +Within a few yards the snow ended and a rocky descent began, down which +the sledge could not have gone. So either Tumbu or the children had been +wise; and they were still in front of him, but how far off who could +tell? The sun was already high, hours must have passed since he first +started in chase; but now that they were on foot there was some chance +of overtaking them before anything dreadful happened. + +In his hurry Roy almost flung himself from rock to rock down the +descent; but he had to pause to take off his fur coat, for in this +sheltered spot the sun beat shadelessly, the snow melted as he passed, +the stones ran with moisture, and in the crannies of the rocks young +green things were everywhere starting into growth. The past storm of +bitter cold had ended winter; spring had begun. And now the rushing +torrent, escaping finally from its snowy blanket, dashed over the +boulders beside him, carrying with it great blocks of melting snow. + +On and on he went, thinking the descent would never end, till at a turn +he saw below him a tiny valley, just a sort of cup in the hills, through +which the stream rushed, sparkling in the sunshine. The banks were still +brown, but they were patched with great beds of rose-pink primula, blue +gentian, and yellow dog pansies. And on a perfect carpet of these sat +three dark figures! Never in his life was Roy so overjoyed. He forgot +his fatigue, and ran on until he could plainly see Princess Bakshee Bâni +Begum making cowslip balls out of the pink primulas, the Heir-to-Empire +contentedly munching a cold hearth cake, and giving bits of it to Tumbu, +who, with his head cocked on one side, had evidently heard Roy's distant +step. The next instant a furious barking showed that he was on the alert +to defend his young charges, and Roy had to call to him again and again +before he was satisfied that the newcomer was a friend. + +"Why, what a long time you've been coming," said the Heir-to-Empire +calmly. "We've had our breakfast, 'cos we couldn't wait any longer. You +can't have come as fast as you could. No more would Tumbu, only we made +him not be lazy, 'cos Head-nurse says--what is it she says, Bija?" + +The little girl looked solemn. "She says every one should do everything +as quick as ever they can. So we shouted at Tumbu and pulled his tail +just a liddly-wee bit like the bullock drivers do. And then we had the +loveliest ride, and Tumbu wasn't a bit cross; but he wouldn't go down +the rocks and growled. So we had to get out and walk. And then we came +here, and first of all we picked flowers; then I had hearth cakes and +popcorn in my veil, and so we ate our breakfast, and then you came--and +that's all, thank you!" She had just finished a lovely soft ball and she +flung it full at the Heir-to-Empire. It hit him, but he took no notice. +He was thinking of something else. + +"But where," he began, and his little lip went down, "is Head-nurse--and +Foster-father--and Foster-mother--and Old Faithful--and Meroo--and Down? +What have you done with them, slave?" + +He was half angry, half ready to cry, so Roy, though his own heart +failed him as he thought of the dangers of the road, had to soothe and +comfort him by saying, as cheerfully as he could, that they would come +before long. But would they? Now that the relief of finding the children +were safe was over, poor Roy began to see the difficulties before him. +If those others did not come, what would he, a mere lad, do? How could +he care for his little master and mistress? They had had their +breakfast, it is true--Roy forgot he had had none himself!--but what +could they have for supper? He could not even think, he felt too giddy +and tired even to sleep; so, after he had rolled his fur coat into a +soft pillow for the little Prince and Princess, who were drowsy for +their mid-day rest, and covered them over with their own, he sat with +his head between his hands, his eyes closed, wishing he were not so +stupid, wishing he could only think of something to do; for in reality +he was quite wearied out. If the others did not come! Of course they +might come at any moment; and yet the moments passed to minutes, the +minutes to hours, while the children slept in the sunshine, and Roy felt +that he was a fool. + +And then something cold touched his hand. He opened his eyes and saw +that it was Tumbu's nose; Tumbu, who had something strange in his +mouth--something like a rabbit and yet like a squirrel! + +In reality it was a fresh-killed young marmot, an animal that lives amid +the snow and ice and rocks of the very highest hills. Tumbu, having +handed over charge of the children, must have gone off on his own +hunting, found a colony of the quaint creatures, and, as usual, brought +home his bag! Roy did not in the least know what the marmot was, but he +saw it was something to eat! The relief was too much for him! Here, at +least, was supper. He flung his arms round Tumbu's neck and burst into +tears, murmuring with choking sobs that he, Roy, had been foolish, but +Tumbu was a wise, wise, good doggie. And so he was! + +After this Roy felt better, and having, as all Indian boys used to have +in those days, a flint and steel with him, began to look around for fuel +with which to light a fire and cook the supper. There were, of course, +no trees and no bushes; but right away at the farther end of the long +valley there were some patches of very dark green. They did not look +promising, but he would go and see. They proved to be a creeping sort of +evergreen plant that trailed its stiff branches right on the very +ground. He picked a bit, and on trying to light it, found to his +surprise, that it blazed up in a fierce flame. For it was juniper, and +so full of resin. + +He now had the possibility of fire, so that evening the little cup in +the hills held quite comfortable encampment. + +Roy had brought down the sledge, and using the swords and their +scabbards as supports, had made a lean-to tent against a warm rock out +of the strip of shawl. In this he had strewn juniper branches to make a +soft bed, and the children could just creep into it. Then they had the +marmot, roasted in its skin, for supper, and all the three were too +hungry to ask themselves if marmot flesh was as toothsome as rabbit or +as bitter as squirrel! And Tumbu ate the bones with an air as if he +would say, "It is not bad, but to-morrow I must catch two marmots." + +After that there was peace and quiet in the camp, Roy sitting beside the +fire and making it blaze up every now and again by putting on a fresh +juniper branch. For he knew that since the others had not arrived by +daylight, they must either all have perished on the road or else be +waiting until the cold of night once more froze the ice-film on the +snow. In this case the firelight seen from afar might be a guide. + +So the night passed. More than once Roy fell asleep, for despite his +care the smoke of the juniper branches could not quite be avoided, and +that, every one knows, is terribly sleepifying. He woke every time, +however, before the fire was quite out, and hastened to send up a flare +of flame. As he did so the last time it was answered by a _hulloo_ from +the rocks above, and shortly afterward Meroo, the scullion's, blubbering +voice could be heard as he uttered thanks to Heaven. + +"And the others?" asked Roy anxiously, as out of the darkness Meroo +appeared and cast himself at the lad's feet, bellowing joy. + +"They come, they come! They are but a short way back. I saw the fire, +and the sight of it warmed the cockles of my heart! Lo! I shall cook +once more! I shall not die hungry in the wilderness. Nay! go not," for +Roy was starting up. "True! the women are nigh dead, and Foster-father +hath his fingers frost-bitten, but--nay, put more flame to the fire, +boy! It is the fire they need!" + +He was half beside himself, but he was right. As the fresh juniper +branches blazed up Head-nurse came tottering and stumbling into its +light. Roy sprang to help her, but she pushed him aside. + +"The Heir-to-Empire?" she muttered, her lips almost refusing to form the +words. "The Heir-to-Empire, the Admired-of-the-World----" + +Roy pointed to the little tent. "There! Safe! Well! Asleep!" he cried; +and the poor woman with a sob sank as she stood, and lay prone muttering +long strings of titles. + +Before a minute had passed Foster-father and Foster-mother struggled +into the circle of light, and after a word of question and reply, sank +down also. + +Then there was a long pause, but no sign came of good Old Faithful's +tall, gaunt figure. At last Roy spoke. + +"Faithful?" he asked in a low whisper. "What of him?" + +There was no answer at first; only Foster-father covered his face with +his hands. At last he spoke gently. + +"He was faithful to death. He was going first, as ever, cheering us all +with his sayings of Firdoos Gita Makâni. I saw him there one moment +turning to tell us words of wisdom--the next the snow bridge had given +way beneath his feet and he was gone. We waited on the bank of the awful +chasm for a long time, but there was no sound save the roaring of the +stream below. Firdoos Gita Makâni, his master, had called him. Peace be +with them both!" + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +DEAREST-LADY + + +For two whole days the little party was too weary even to attempt a +move. They had some provisions with them, and Tumbu, as good as his +word, brought in more and more marmots; for being unaccustomed to dogs, +they were easily caught. + +The death of Old Faithful weighed upon the spirits of all, and for the +first twelve hours or so the Heir-to-Empire was inconsolable for the +loss of his beloved cat; for Foster-father had found it impossible to +carry Down farther, and she had remained behind in the snow, protesting +piteously. It was a terrible grief, and the child had almost wept +himself sick, when, to every one's surprise and delight, Mistress Down +was seen walking sedately across the flowers, her bushy tail carried +very high, not one hair of her silky white coat awry. She took no notice +of anybody, but passed to the fire, sat down beside it with stiff +dignity, curled her tail round her paws, yawned and then began to purr +gently. It was as if nothing had happened. And she certainly was not +hungry, for she turned up her dainty nose at Tumbu's marmot bones. + +"Cats," said Head-nurse, who had just awakened from a long sleep of many +hours, "are not to be counted as other beasts. Having nine lives, they +could afford to lose one; but they never do. They always fall on their +feet. It is the way of the world; the more you have the more you get. +Still, I am glad she has returned; and I wish there were a chance of +others turning up also," she added with a sigh. + +The Heir-to-Empire looked up gravely. "But Faithful can't come back, you +know. He went to help Grand-dad to help us." + +"Hark to the innocent," cried Foster-mother, half in smiles, half in +tears, "but it is true. If ever poor mortals were watched over by saints +in Paradise, we were; and for my part if ever I get to Kâbul, my duty +shall be paid to the tomb of Firdoos Gita Makâni--on whom be peace." + +"Amen!" added her husband devoutly; "but for the memory of that good man +we should not be here now." + +It was on the third day that leaving Meroo in charge for a few hours +Foster-father and Roy set off to explore. They were fortunate in finding +some shepherds' huts within a walking distance for even footsore women, +and returned ere nightfall with a skin bag of fresh milk. + +Early next morning, therefore, they all set off, Roy girding on dead +Faithful's sword from the sledge that was wanted no more, and from that +moment feeling himself indeed bodyguard to the Heir-to-Empire. + +Once they had reached safety from starvation in the shepherds' huts, a +great desire for rest came upon them all; and for three whole days they +did nothing but eat, and sleep, and rejoice in the early spring +sunshine, and the early spring flowers. For the late snap of extreme +cold had passed and every green thing was hurrying to be ahead of its +neighbour. Bija made endless cowslip balls out of the beautiful +rose-pink primulas, while Roy and Mirak, following the shepherds' boys, +came back with their hands full of young rhubarb shoots and green fern +croziers, which they ate like asparagus. But this sort of thing could +not last long, since they were close to the caravan route from Kandahâr +to Kâbul; and sure enough, no sooner had the snow on the uplands melted +than travellers began to pass through. + +Thus news that the little party had escaped death soon filtered from +mouth to mouth, till it reached the Captain of the Escort, and ere long +Foster-father found himself and those in his care once more +semi-prisoners on their way to cruel brother Kumran; all the more cruel, +doubtless, because King Humâyon had already begun the siege of Kandahâr, +believing his little son to be still within its walls. + +Now Kumran was a far cleverer fellow than his brother Askurry; but there +was in him a love of deceit for deceit's sake, which spoiled all his +cleverness, for it made him uncertain what he would do in the end. This +indeed is always the case with deceitful people. They know that what +they say and do is _not_ straightforward and true, and so they are like +sailors without a compass. They have no fixed pole by which to steer. + +And, in addition, Kumran liked to be considered clever; so he was always +outwardly very courteous, very polite, very charming; but what he was +within none could say for long. + +Thus Foster-father's heart sank within him, when in the distance, down +the rocky ravine through which the Kâbul River dashes, and along which +the caravan road took its high-perched way, he saw the battlemented wall +of the city, cresting the low hills on which the town was built. It was +a fully fortified town through which the river ran, and at its extreme +end, commanding the wider plain below, stood the citadel called the Bala +Hissar or High Fort. To reach this the travellers had to cross the iron +bridge and wend their way through the narrow bazaars. + +Such wonderful bazaars as they were, too! Crowded with tiny dark arched +shops, like caverns, full to the brim with Persian silk carpets, furs +from the north, turquoises and all kinds of precious stones from +out-of-the-way places with unpronounceable names. And there were such a +quantity of cats! Grey Persian cats and white ones, and tabbies and +black cats who sat on the balconies and stared at Down as she lay on +Horse-chestnut's broad, wavy back. For the Captain of the Escort had +found out what an excellent creature the old pony was, and had brought +it along with him. + +The High Fort was a huge place with great gardens within its battlements +and several separate palaces. Here, to Foster-father's unbounded +delight, they found that Prince Kumran was himself away, having gone out +with a small body of men to the Kandahâr frontier, where King Humâyon's +arrival had aroused loyalty. But what was still more cheering was the +news that he had left orders for the Heir-to-Empire and his sister to be +handed over on arrival to the charge of Dearest-Lady! Foster-father +could hardly believe his ears; for Dearest-Lady (as she was always +called by all her family, by all her nephews and nieces, by all her +grand nephews and nieces, and cousins, and every one who was lucky +enough to belong to her) was simply--Well! what was she not? Wise, and +gentle, and good, and clever--all this and more. She was the sort of +Dearest-Lady who lived so long in the hearts of those who knew her, +that, years after she was dead they would say, if there was any +difficult point to be settled--"We wonder what Dearest-Lady would have +said?" + +She was old, of course, for she was Babar the Brave's elder sister; the +sister to whom he had been devoted, who had always been to him also "his +Dearest-One." Now, when you come to think of it, boys and girls, that +is a nice sort of fame to have--to remain for--let me see how many +hundred years?--nearly four--Dearest-Lady, or Dearest-Gentleman to all +the world. + +This Dearest-Lady was, of course, the Heir-to-Empire's grand-aunt, and +the mere sound of her name was enough to calm Foster-father's fears. +Even Head-nurse, though she sniffed a little and said she had heard tell +that the Khânzâda Khânum was a trifle careless of ceremonials, was +satisfied. There was no doubt that she was the Highest-Born-in-the-Land. + +As for little Prince Akbar himself, he only opened his big, grave eyes +widely when the tall white figure clasped him closely in its arms and +kissed his hair softly. + +"So like his grandfather," she murmured, "so like! so like!--the very +hands, the very feet--so strong, so shapely." And both in turn felt the +touch of the soft old lips. "And thou, too, small maiden," she continued +kindly, "welcome to one who has never yet let it be said in her hearing +that God made women weaker than man! Thou shalt learn here to be proud +thou wast born a girl. And you also, Nurse! Bring cooling sherbets, +slaves, while she tells me all that has happened." + +Then she sat and listened while Head-nurse told the tale of what had +happened, and her faded, gay, old face flashed and sparkled and grew +grave by turns. + +"But where is Tumbu?" she interrupted, "and where is Down? Bring them +hither, slaves! Lo! I love all animals, as my dear brother did!" + +And she laughed over their doings, and wept over Old Faithful's death, +while Bija and Mirak sat cuddled up close beside her, listening also and +enjoying the tale of their own adventures as if they had happened to +other children! + +"Surely," she said softly when Head-nurse ended, "my dearest brother--on +whom be peace--must have protected them! Lo! Mirak! and Bija--for I +shall call you naught else since they are sweet kindly names, better +than fine sounding titles--this very afternoon ye shall come with me to +the garden he loved, and where his earthly form lies at rest, and lay +flowers on his grave for thanks. Since he loved flowers as he loved +everything." + +So that evening, about an hour before sunset time, they were all carried +in litters to the Garden of the New Year, about a mile beyond the city. +It was a most peaceful, lovely spot, right up on the hillside with a +splendid view from it of valley and mountain and river. A fresh bubbling +spring ran through it, and beneath the Judas trees, whose leafless +branches were flushed with pink blossoms, stretched great carpets of +spring flowers. + +"Pluck him yonder tulips, Mirak," said Dearest-Lady with a smile. "He +loved to count their kinds and those--as he wrote--are 'yellow, double, +and scented like a rose'!" + +And the boy who was to grow to be a greater man even than his +grandfather, though he could scarcely be a more lovable one, plucked a +posy of the tulips and laid them on the plain marble slab which bore +nothing but the words, "Heaven is the eternal home of the Emperor +Babar." And when Bija, with many a little feminine ceremonial, had +deposited her nosegay of sweet violets, and Head-nurse and Foster-mother +had offered up their respects, they all went and sat down on a grassy +spot, and Dearest-Lady, who was always full of youthful curiosities +concerning all things, began to question Roy, who as a mere lad had been +allowed to come with them, as to what he could remember of the time +before he was picked up in the desert. + +"Hold my hand, child, and think," she said at last, "mayhap it may come +to thee then. The touch of kinship has power, and if I do not mistake +me, there is that in thy blood that is in mine--royalty!" + +So she clasped Roy's slim long-fingered hand and held it tight, and the +boy's face changed, his eyes grew startled, he shivered slightly. + +"Yea!" he said, "now I do remember. Mother was like you, and she told me +I had the mark of Kingship strong enough, for all the rebels might +say--" As he spoke, he drew down his loose garments, and there upon the +clear olive of his breast, just above the heart, showed a small dark +stain. + +Dearest-Lady bent close to look at it. "What is't?" she asked. + +"Mother said it was the sign of uttermost truth, and that we all had +it," he replied, speaking dreamily. + +"But who were we?" persisted Dearest-Lady, her kind eyes on the lad's. + +Just at that moment, however, Tumbu, who had, of course, accompanied +them, burst out with a series of shrill, short barks, and Roy was on his +feet in a second, his hand on Old Faithful's sword, lest any newcomer +might bring danger to his little master. But as it turned out Tumbu was +only excited by a water-rat! All the same the interruption prevented +Dearest-Lady's question from being answered, for the spell was broken. + +"Yea! thou wilt be true to the very uttermost, of that I am sure," said +Dearest-Lady, half pleased, half amused at the young Râjput's quick leap +to arms, "and so long as I have charge of the Heir-to-Empire thou shalt +be his esquire. So go call the litter-men, boy, it is time we returned. +I must remember I am gaoler as well as grand-aunt." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +CRUEL BROTHER KUMRAN + + +If Dearest-Lady was in truth a gaoler, she was a very kind one, and her +prison the pleasantest prison in the world. It would take too long to +tell how happily the next four months passed, not only for the two +children, but for Roy and Foster-father, Head-nurse and Foster-mother. +Even misshapen Meroo, in the kitchen, felt the better for helping to +cook the Khânzâda Khânum's dinner. For that was one of Dearest-Lady's +virtues, she always made people feel contented, and as if they were +doing the right thing. So even Prince Kumran, when he returned to Kâbul, +though he frowned at the big, bold, frank-faced boy who claimed to be +the Heir-to-an-Empire which his own fingers itched to have, did not feel +inclined to interfere with his aunt. The truth being that, like the rest +of the family, he loved and trusted her beyond measure; perhaps more +than did any of his brothers, since she had brought him up as a child. +And she, in her turn, though she knew his faults, though she not only +bewailed them, but resented them, at times most fiercely, could not +forget that he had been her nursling, could not forget, above all, that +he was her dear brother Babar's son. + +Thus all went smoothly in the Bala Hissar, where young Prince Akbar, +now close on three years old, looked and talked and acted like one of +six. This same strength of his was always getting him into scrapes with +people who did not believe he was so young, or, knowing him to be so +young, did not believe him to be so strong! + +He played a similar trick to the one he had played on cousin Yakoob at +Kandahâr on his big cousin Ibrahim, Prince Kumran's son. It was about a +fine kettledrum all tasselled in royal fashion, with gold and silver, +that Ibrahim's father had given him. Being a selfish boy, he would not +allow Akbar to touch it; whereupon the Heir-to-Empire, after a brief +tussle, carried off the kettledrum and beat it loudly through the +palace! + +Kumran hearing of this was very angry, for the beating of a kettledrum +is a sign of Empire. + +"Keep that young fighting cock of thine in better order, madam," he said +to his aunt, "or I shall have to find him a sterner gaoler." + +Whereupon she flashed out and told him fairly that short of killing the +child, and for that crime even _he_ was not prepared, there was no way +of preventing the Heir-to-Empire from being what he was, a born king. +That was her way of quelling Kumran. By boldly setting aside the thought +of murder as impossible, she hoped to make it so; but she was not sure, +and after this she kept Mirak and Bija under control. + +It was not much good, however, when just as autumn was coming on news +arrived from Kandahâr that Humâyon had at last succeeded in taking the +city, and, disappointed in not finding his son in the palace, was +preparing to march on Kâbul. + +Then the worst side of Prince Kumran showed itself at once. Like all +deceitful people, he was a coward at heart, and cowardice made him think +of immediate revenge upon his victorious brother. Of what use would even +two victories be to him if the Heir-to-Empire was beyond recall? + +So Kumran's charming polished manner vanished in an instant, and one +day, without any warning, little Mirak, playing in the garden, was +kidnapped by two stalwart Abyssinian slaves and carried off, howling +horribly and fighting with his fists, to the palace where Kumran's wife +lived. Tumbu, who was with him at the time, made a gallant show of +resistance, and actually bit one of the kidnapper's calves to the bone; +but when he found himself confronted with a whole regiment of armed men +who ran out to their assistance, he gave up the hopeless fight, and flew +off to tell Roy what had happened. And Roy, missing his little master, +fled to tell Dearest-Lady. Her face paled, but she did not hesitate. + +"My litter! page!" she cried, and drawing her white veil closer round +her, she went straight to the audience hall, where Kumran was receiving +his nobles; her great age, her great nobility, giving her a right, even +as a woman, to appear amongst them. + +All eyes turned to her tall, upright, slim figure, every ear thrilled to +the tones of her clear voice. + +"By what right," she asked, "has Kumran, the nephew I have nurtured, +stolen from my care the son of his elder brother, the Heir to that +Empire which Babar the Brave gave, dying, into the hands of Humâyon, his +eldest son? I say there can be no right; and if it be wrong then will +God's curse light on the man who undoes his father's work. Lo! he is +worse than parricide, for he would kill that for which his father gave +his life." + +Now this appeal was a very strong one; for the story of how Babar the +Brave gave up his own life to save that of his darling son, Humâyon, is +one of the most touching tales in Indian history, and none of Babar's +immediate family could even think of it without strong emotion. So it +was Kumran's turn to grow pale. + +"August lady," he replied, evading her question, "this is a matter of +policy with which women have naught to do. King Humâyon hath taken +Kandahâr, he hath imprisoned and degraded his brother Askurry, and for +this, I, Kumran, challenge him!" + +"And wherefore?" asked Dearest-Lady boldly. "Did not Askurry deserve it? +Nay! did he not deserve death? Did he not steal the King-of-Empire? Did +he not defy the king? Did he not send the Heir-to-Empire away, instead +of returning him to his father's keeping? I tell you, nephew Kumran, +that your father, Babar the Brave, Babar the Kindly, Babar the Generous, +Babar the Just, whom all men loved for his mercy, would have given +_death_ for such faults--and given it rightly. And will you, like a +fool, court death also?" She looked round the assembly to see many a +sullen, suspicious face, and understood that danger lay close at hand. +So her resolution was taken in a moment. "See you!" she went on, +"nothing has been done yet to make forgiveness impossible. Well! +I--Khânzâda Khânum,--old as I am, will go forth to meet King Humâyon and +plead thy cause. I will ask what boon you wish, and I promise it shall +be yours. Humâyon will give much in exchange for his son, and none have +ever denied me anything. Shall it be so?" Then seeing hesitation she put +in a crafty word: "There will be time afterwards for--anything----" + +Kumran looked round his nobles, then into his own heart. What he saw +there was such a tissue of lies and deceit that he could find no clear +decision; so, as usual, he temporised. "It is worth a trial," he +murmured. "I might ask for much." + +"Ask for all and everything," said Dearest-Lady, who felt she had gained +her point; "I make but one condition. The child must remain unharmed +until I return." + +Again Kumran hesitated. Again he looked in his own heart. Again he found +no clear cause for decision there; so he said doubtfully: + +"Until you return?" + +"Nay! swear it," came the high, insistent voice. "Say before them all, +'By the memory of my dear father no harm shall come to the child ere you +return.'" + +Half unwillingly Kumran repeated the words and Dearest-Lady gave a sigh +of relief. She had gained her point. But now that she had to face the +consequences of her offer to go forth and meet Humâyon her heart sank +within her; for she was very old and not over strong. The journey was +long; winter was coming on fast. Still it had to be done, and at once. +For Kumran's promise of safety to the Heir-to-Empire was only _during +her absence_, and who knew whether his craft might not claim freedom to +do as he chose ere she started! + +So she made her arrangements for that very evening, and she had much to +do. To begin with she must see the Heir-to-Empire the very last thing, +and make certain that he was well cared for. Then she had to arrange for +the safety and comfort of Head-nurse, Foster-mother and little Bija, for +it was unlikely they would be allowed to be with the little Prince. He +must, however, have some one with him to whom the child was accustomed, +and Roy, being still quite a lad, might not be considered dangerous. +Then his gift of story-telling might make the ladies in the women's +apartments more inclined to have him. Anyhow she must try her best to +secure his stopping with his young master, and to this end she ordered +him some fine clothes and gave him a finely bedizened lute; for since he +came to Kâbul they had found out that he could play the _vina_ +beautifully. + +Thus just before sunsetting, leaving poor Head-nurse and Foster-mother +in floods of tears, while poor little Bija was sobbing her very heart +out, and good dog Tumbu was slowly wagging his tail as his eyes asked +sorrowfully if he might not come, too, she started on her journey, going +round by the Chief Palace on her way. + +Now, Dearest-Lady's visits were considered to be an honour, so she had +no difficulty in gaining admittance. And once inside the women's +apartments she simply turned to the first attendant and said curtly that +she had come to see the Heir-to-Empire and say farewell to him; +therefore he must either be brought to her or she must go to him. +Boldness succeeded, as it always does, and she was shown into a room +where she found little Prince Akbar playing contentedly with Down the +cat, who was running about after a ball like a young kitten. She stopped +when she saw Dearest-Lady, and giving an apologetic _miaow_, as who +should say, "I was obliged to amuse him somehow," settled herself down +on the rug and began as usual to purr. Of course Mirak forgot all about +her in his joy at seeing Dearest-Lady and Roy, and it was some time +before the former could ask the attendant how the cat had managed to get +there. + +"Highness," said the woman, "it is impossible to keep cats out if they +want to come in. She appeared at the window three times, and three times +I put her downstairs. Then I gave in. It is no use quarrelling with +cats." + +Meanwhile notice of Her Highness Dearest-Lady's arrival had reached +Kumran's wife and she hastened to little Akbar's prison room. But once +more Dearest-Lady was bold and took the first word. + +"I came to bid the boy farewell, content to trust him to thy kind care, +my niece," she said; "and also to leave with him this Râjput singer, who +has the art of amusing the child--and other folk also. Roy! sing us one +of thy tales, that the Princess may hear thee." + +And Roy, knowing his part, sang as he had never sung before. "I will +sing of how the palm squirrels helped the Great Râm to find his wife, +Sita the Peerless, whom the wicked Giant Râvana had carried off. We sing +it to the squirrels when we feed them in our country. Perhaps Her +Highness does not know what a palm squirrel is. It is tiny, tiny, no +bigger than a rat, but it has a bushy tail and four dark stripes like +finger marks down its goldy-coloured back. And it never does anything +but play, is never anything but happy; and this is why": + +Then he smote the strings of the _vina_ till they thrilled again, and +began, his high voice warbling and carolling like a summer bird. + + "Pretty! Pretty! Pretty! are you there, my sweet, + In your leafy seat, where the branches meet? + Wasting all the sunny hours + Pulling down the mango flowers + With your dainty feet. + + "Pretty, prettiest thing yawning as you lie + Watching with glad eye, busy life go by. + Not the tiniest sense of duty + In your careless days, my beauty, + 'Neath the cloudless sky. + + "Happiest, merriest ways, + Knowing no gainsays, so the story says, + Since the Great Râm loved and blessed you, + With his care-worn hand caressed you, + In the olden days. + + "Then, when he was seeking Sita, peerless maid, + By his foes dismayed, Râm, her lover, bade + All the beasts and birds and fishes + Leave their play to do his wishes, + Fight to give him aid. + + "And the golden squirrel sprang at his behest, + Nestled to his breast, first to join the quest. + But Great Râm's grave eyes grew tender, + Smiled upon the warrior slender, + Braver than the rest! + + "'Nay! thou art too pretty! fearless little heart, + Thou should'st have no part in Strife's bitter art; + Live to show man, worn and weary, + One blythe soul for ever cheery, + Free from sorrow's smart.' + + "Laid his kind hand softly on its golden hair, + So palm squirrels bear, where Râm's fingers were, + Four dark shadows on them, showing + Gladdest life must lose its glowing + From the touch of care. + + "So the squirrels' birthright is to want for naught, + Have no grief or thought, know not 'must' or 'ought.' + Yet upon their gold there lingers + Shades of care, that Great Râm's fingers + For their blessing wrought." + +"_Wah! Wah!_" cried the Queen, delighted. "He can stop if he likes." + +Ten minutes after Roy had finished his song Dearest-Lady's litter paused +for a moment on a high-perched corner of the road towards Kandahâr, to +give her a last look of the fair city of Kâbul. Her bright old face was +bright still, undimmed by care. She was old and frail, she was going a +wearisome, trying journey; yet, for the present, she knew that she had +saved the Heir-to-Empire's life. That at any rate was secure until she +returned--and she might never return! The thought made her smile. +"Forward, slaves!" she cried cheerfully, and Kâbul, the city she loved +so well, was left behind without one regret. + +And she was right. She had saved the Heir-to-Empire's life; for at that +very minute the door of little Prince Akbar's room opened wide, and Roy +starting up found himself face to face with cruel Uncle Kumran followed +by two men with drawn swords. And, alas for Roy! he had no sword to +draw, for Old Faithful's sabre did not fit the disguise of a Râjput +bard. Despite that, he stepped forward boldly, though his heart beat to +suffocation. For Kumran's face was cruel indeed. + +Still, for one second, the latter's attention was distracted. He had +wanted no witnesses to what he meant to do. + +"How camest thou hither, slave?" he asked fiercely. + +And Roy gave him back the simple truth, no more, no less; but it was +sufficient. + +"Her Highness Khânzâda Khânum brought me hither to be with the +Heir-to-Empire ere she left at sunset." + +Kumran started back. "Left? Hath she left already?" he asked, his face +paling. So he stood for a moment irresolute, the words of his own oath +pealing through his brain, "By the memory of my father I promise." That +was not one which any son of Babar's was ever likely to break. "Sheath +your swords, fools!" he said at last bitterly; "they are not needed. I +am not the first man who has been outwitted by a woman." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +IMPRISONMENT + + +But if Kumran was let and hindered by his oath from actually killing the +Heir-to-Empire in cold blood, or, in lesser degree, from treating him so +harshly that he might die, he did not feel so bound towards the others; +and being cruel by nature, he set to work upon them at once. +Foster-father he sent to the State prison, which was down a well in the +big courtyard. There were two of these prison-wells, in which the water +was reached by a flight of steep steps, and where dark, underground +cells opened on to the deep silent pool. They were terribly damp, but +here poor Foster-father had to drag out long, miserable days, cut off +even from news of the others. Until one day, just when the sentry was +eating his mid-day meal, he heard a violent barking, and by swinging +himself up by the bars of the tiny shaft of the well he could just get a +glimpse of Tumbu on the steps. Why had he come? Perhaps he had been +sent; if so he would come again at the same time. All that night +Foster-father lay awake, feverishly wondering what Tumbu had meant, and +all the next morning, having no means of telling the time, he waited and +waited anxiously, until, just as he was beginning to give up hope, the +familiar bark echoed down the well, and there was good old Tumbu on the +steps! So he must have been sent by some one; and therefore some one +must be alive and desire him to know the fact. + +In truth, both his wife, Foster-mother, and Head-nurse had been racking +their brains how to find out where either the Heir-to-Empire or +Foster-father were imprisoned until little Bija had said, "Tell Tumbu to +seek for them. If you show him Mirak's cap and say, 'Go seek,' he will +go." + +And so he did; but it was a long, long time before he found out where +Mirak had hidden himself, for he had gone to the big palace in a litter, +and so had left no trace. Then little Bija came to the rescue once more. + +"You say, Foster-mother, that you feel sure that Down must have gone +away to keep Mirak company. Now she _can't_ be prisoned, 'cos cats won't +be caught unless they want to be caught, and she doesn't want to be, _of +course_. So she must be going about, so why don't you tell Tumbu to seek +for Down; then we should find where Mirak was." + +"But we haven't got anything of Down's to show him," argued +Foster-mother. And that was a puzzler. + +At last Head-nurse said, "I believe all cats have the same smell, else +why do all dogs go after all cats? At any rate, it would be worth +trying." + +So they got a fine, large, handsome white cat in the bazaar, and said +to Tumbu, "Go seek!" And then there was the most awful scrimmage that +ever was seen. Tumbu was after the cat in a second, and the cat jumped +for protection on Head-nurse, and Head-nurse howled, while Tumbu +deafened everybody by yowls; for the cat had caught him on the nose! +Peace was not restored till pussy had made her escape back to the bazaar +through the window. + +"That was not a success," sighed poor Head-nurse as she put herself +tidy; but after all it was not such a failure, since, either from +putting two and two together, or by mere chance, Tumbu appeared the very +next day barking and frolicking after his usual fashion when he wanted +them to go out, and then led them straight to a lonely corner of the +palace garden, whence, looking upwards, they could plainly see Down +seated on a narrow window sill. And the next moment, hearing the +familiar bark, who should pop his head out of the window but Roy! + +"All's well," he whispered rapidly seeing them below him; then withdrew +his head swiftly. For he had determined never by anything or in any way +to risk being sent away from the little Heir-to-Empire. + +But the others were more than satisfied with the whisper. + +"Now," said little Bija, who was beginning to manage her nurses, "Tumbu +must find Foster-father and tell _him_." And this, we have seen, he +did. + +Even so, with the daily content of knowing that all were at least safe, +the time passed with deadly slowness, for the days grew to weeks, the +weeks to months, bringing no change. Denied, as he was, the outdoor +life, the fresh air to which he had been accustomed, little Prince Akbar +grew pale and thin. But his spirits did not flag, and he would laugh +over the tale of how Râjah Rasâlu swung the Seventy Maidens as heartily +as ever, though sometimes his little lip would go down and he would say, +"If Bija were only here I'd never ask her to tumble down. I would go on +swinging till she wanted me to stop." + +So the winter came on, but still Dearest-Lady did not return. A letter +had come from her saying she had reached Kandahâr in safety--that she +was staying in the Kâr Garden outside the town which her father had +planted--that King Humâyon was not angry--that he had already forgiven +Prince Askurry--that Kumran had nothing to fear if he only kept to his +promise. + +The prisoners, of course, knew nothing of this letter, but the effect of +it showed in a greater freedom. Foster-father was moved to a more +comfortable dungeon and Bija, Head-nurse and Foster-mother were allowed +to go and see the Heir-to-Empire. Their delight may be imagined, and +even Tumbu shared in the joy, for, when he was refused admittance and +left down below, he dashed up the stairs, evading the sentries and +barked furiously at the door to be let in. And the meeting between him +and Mirak was so pretty that the sentry had not the heart to insist on +poor doggie going down again. And this, in its way, was a good thing, +for it was the beginning of a sort of friendship between the young +Prince and this particular Afghan sentry. Sometimes, after he had been +relieved, he would come up to the little captive's room for a bit, and +listen to Roy's stories, or tell a few in his turn; for he had wandered +about, over half India, giving the use of his sword to any one who would +pay him well for it. + +"Lo! I have not heard that tale since I was in Râjputana!" he said one +day after Roy had been singing an old-world legend of fighting days. "It +was an old Brahman of Suryâmer told it me of the Sun-Heroes." + +Roy's face flushed up in a second. "Suryâmer is mine!" he said proudly; +"I am of the Sun-Heroes!" + +Then he started to his feet, pale as ashes. "I have remembered! I have +remembered at last," he said almost with a cry. "It is true! I was Râjah +of Suryâmer! It has come back to me at last!" + +Then as suddenly he crouched down again and covered his face with both +hands. + +"Roy!" said little Prince Akbar gravely. "Why should you cry because you +are a King? I don't." + +The sentry laughed. "By my word," he remarked, "there is a blessed pair +of you Kings!" + +"Of course there is," assented the Heir-to-Empire with the greatest +dignity. "I have been one ever since I was born, and I always knew Roy +belonged to me!" Then in quick impulse he ran over to the Râjput lad and +flung his arms round his neck crying, "Oh Roy! Roy! I'm so glad you are +my brother!" + +"Not so fast, young sir," objected the sentry, who was hugely amused and +interested; "what proof can you bring of this, stripling?" + +Roy lifted a scared face; then hung his head. + +"None, save my memory, and this mark upon my breast. My mother said we +all had the stamp of truth over our hearts." + +The sentry shrugged his shoulders. "That is not much in this wicked +world," he said carelessly. "And anyhow it matters little if either or +both of you be Kings, since ye are in cruel Kumran's power." + +"Not till my Dearest-Lady returns," dissented little Akbar gravely. +"Head-nurse said so; and if cruel Uncle Kumran is to get me, +Dearest-Lady _won't_ come back. I _know_ she won't--so there!" + +And, as events turned out, the Heir-to-Empire was right! + +But a few days afterwards a messenger, bearing a blue handkerchief in +his hand--the sign of death tidings to the Royal Family--appeared in +hot haste before the nobles assembled in the Audience Hall. + +"News! News!" he cried breathlessly. "Cover your heads with dust, ye +people, while ye thank the Merciful One that Khânzâda Khânum of the +House of Babar hath found freedom, that after a long and godly life she +hath found rest and peace. Bismillah--ul----" + +The long Arabic sentence went rolling through the Hall, while Kumran +stood stunned by the suddenness of his aunt's death. And yet it might +have been expected; the journey was far too trying for one of her years. +And she had risked it--for what? + +With a rush Kumran realised that his promise still held good, and for +the moment disappointment, anger, savage desire for revenge swept away +his regret. Yet even he could not fail to be touched by the letter his +brother Humâyon had sent him by the hand of the messenger. Dearest-Lady +had, he said, pled his, Kumran's, cause well, and he, Humâyon, was ready +to forgive for the sake of the dead woman who had loved them both, whom +they both loved, and who had died with a smile. + +But such softer feelings did not, could not linger long in a mind that +had no fixed belief in anything. Before a day had passed the feeling +that he had been tricked onto an oath he dared not break came uppermost +again. Foster-father was ordered back to his damp dungeon, the little +Heir-to-Empire and Roy were taken from the Palace and given over to the +charge of a man noted for his hardness of heart. Only the women and +little Bija, being of no account, were turned out into the streets to +beg or starve as they chose. + +Then followed a terrible month in which the little party were cut off +from news of one another. Only Down, the cat, wandering over roofs and +Heaven knows where and how, looked in here and there to settle on some +one's lap and purr. + +"Cats," said poor Head-nurse, as she sat opposite Foster-mother, +grinding for all they were worth at a stone hand-mill in order to gain +enough to keep Bija from starving, "are of all God's creatures the most +contented; and so little pleases them. Hark! to Down how she purrs, just +because she has found us poor miserable women." + +"Allah!" replied Foster-mother more cheerfully. "Is love such a little +thing? I think not, and Down hath seen my darling. Of that I feel sure; +she would not come and purr otherwise." + +Still it was silent comfort and there was so much going on; so much that +even the "miserable women" could not hear, though they were free to come +and go. But one day when Down was purring on Bija's lap in the straw +thatch which was all the three had for lodging, a passer-by paused to +say: + +[Illustration: _And one day the door did open.... "My son--my little +son."_] + +"That is the cat I used to see with the little King. Have you ought to +do with him, sister?" + +"I _am_ his sister," replied Bija haughtily, whereat the sentry, for it +was he, laughed; but for all that he paused to tell the two women what +he knew; though that was not much. It could not be long, however, he +said, before news of one sort or another came to them; for King Humâyon +was, so they said, within a day's march of Kâbul, and any time they +might hear the guns begin. Then would be his turn. He would fight till +all was blue, and then if the outsiders won, turn round and fight for +them as hardily, since all he required was plenty of fighting and plenty +of food and wine. + +He was right in one thing. The very next day about noon, a sudden +_pouf_--_bing-bing_--_thud_, told that the first shot had been fired. +And after that there was no peace and little safety. Only Foster-father +in his dungeon was free even from anxiety; for fever had seized on him +and he lay unconscious. And in his close prison room, where there was +little air and less light, and where Roy racked his brain for stories +wherewith to while away the leaden-footed hours, the little +Heir-to-Empire lay listless also, yet not ill. Only weary, weary. + +"I want Tumbu," he would say, "I want to run a race with him. I want to +be out of doors." + +And so while the city was alive with armed men, when there were +assaults and repulses and sorties and forlorn hopes going on day after +day, Roy would tell Mirak that some day something would happen. Some day +the door would open and---- + +And one day the door did open. And a tall man stood for a second, +half-blinded by the darkness. But the next he strode forward and caught +the little Heir-to-Empire to his heart, murmuring, "My son--my little +son!" + +It was King Humâyon; for Kumran, after pleading for a few hours' truce +to allow him to make submission, had taken advantage of this breathing +time to make his escape with the more desperate of his followers. Fear +had overcome him once more. Having nothing in himself on which he could +rely, he could not trust to the generosity of his brother. + +So, after more than two and a half years of separation Akbar found his +father again. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE GARDEN OF GAMES + + +And now, for the time at any rate, Prince Akbar's adventures were over, +and all the little party prepared to enjoy themselves. Foster-father, +taken out of his dungeon, soon recovered consciousness, and the news of +King Humâyon's victory and the Heir-to-Empire's safety, being the best +tonic in the world, he was soon about again. + +Head-nurse, at last absolutely restored to her proper position in Court, +found, however, that her young charge had considerably outgrown the +nursery. To begin with, his father, overjoyed at recovering his son, +could not see too much of him, and took him about with him wherever he +went. + +"Time enough for his education to begin when he is four," said Humâyon, +when Foster-father pointed out that the boy was old beyond his years and +that if he did not soon begin schooling it would be difficult for him +by-and-bye. + +"Let be--friend, let be!" continued the fond father; "let us have a +while to amuse ourselves, now the trouble is over! I tell you I have +been in such straits these last four years that I have had no time to +amuse myself. Now I mean to show Kâbul that life isn't so bad after +all!" + +So tall, handsome, good-natured, with a vivid love of colour and beauty +and a light-heartedness almost beyond belief,--light-heartedness which +had carried him through dangers that might have proved too much for one +less gay--Humâyon set to work to lavish his money on the most +magnificent entertainments that ever were seen. + +So long as winter lasted these had to be held in the Bala Hissar, where +a sound of music and a ripple of laughter was to be heard day and night; +but as spring began once more to carpet the barren hills with millions +of flowers, Humâyon's amusements went further afield. One day he and his +Court, a glittering cohort of merry men, flashing with diamonds, and +prepared to enjoy everything, would ride out many miles to see the great +groves of Judas trees flushed with their pink blossoms; ride out to find +a magnificent camp awaiting them, a magnificent repast prepared, and all +the best singers and dancers in Kâbul ready to amuse them. Then the next +day, mayhap, they would all go a-hawking, and at each and all of these +diversions Humâyon's little son was part of his father's enjoyment, and +so naturally, became more and more of a man every day. + +He used to ride on Horse-chestnut, and Tumbu was always of the party, +getting in consequence rather too fat, by reason of the rich food which +was given him. + +But despite all this fun and jollity little Prince Akbar was not quite +satisfied. + +"You took my mother away with you to the hills," he would say to his +father. "Why didn't you bring her back with you? I want to see her." + +Then King Humâyon would laugh--for he was always merry--and bid his +little son be patient. His mother would come with the spring. At present +she was in Persia, but so soon as the passes were open she would start +for Kâbul. And then there would be fun! Whereupon little Prince Akbar +would smile a dignified smile, and say, _of course_ there would be fun! + +Now out of this arose a plan which came into King Humâyon's head, as so +many other plans came, without very much thought; for he was full of +kindly, not over-wise fancies. And this one was that little Prince Akbar +should choose his own mother! + +It would be rather a hard task for a child who had not seen her for two +years and a half, and who was but a baby of less than eighteen months +old when he had parted from her! But Humâyon was convinced that _his_ +son would remember; and anyway, even if he did not, no harm would be +done and it would be very amusing. So orders were given for a huge +entertainment in the Arta Gardens just outside Kâbul. They were the most +beautiful gardens, not close cropped and orderly like English gardens, +but with wide, bare, marble-paved walks and squares, big marble-stepped +tanks full of waterlilies, all set in tangles of widespread roses and +jasmine and gardenia. And here Humâyon's fancy set up a Mystic Palace of +three Houses: The House of Pleasure; The House of Fortune, and the House +of Power. Never was such a beautiful Palace. By day it shone with the +reflected light of thousands and thousands of looking-glasses, by night +it rose outlined in every detail by thousands and thousands of little +lamps. Every marble path was spread with priceless silken carpets, the +very fountains were scented with attar-of-rose. All the musicians and +dancers and acrobats and jugglers of Kâbul were commanded to be there, +snow came from the higher hills to ice the drinks, and cooks worked day +and night to prepare the most wonderful dishes. + +"That is what I call a King," remarked the Afghan sentry, whom Roy, +going with his little master to see the preparations, found keeping +guard at the gate. "None of your skinflints like Kumran. Aye!" he +continued, seeing Roy's look of surprise and distaste, "I have done what +I said I would--fought for Kumran till there was no more fighting to be +done. And now, like His Gracious Majesty King Humâyon, I am enjoying +myself. I want no more! Ha! Ha!" + +Little Prince Akbar, who was standing by, turned on him sharply. "Thou +art a slave, fellow, and know nothing of Kingship. Roy and I do. In his +country Kings ride and shoot and play polo, and--and do things. +Besides," he added, "I want my mother." + +"Your Highness will have to choose her then, so I hear," began the +sentry almost rudely, and Roy started to rebuke him, but Prince Akbar +was first. + +"Of course I shall choose my own mother, slave. She is quite different, +you know, from any one else in the world. Isn't she, Roy?" + +The Râjput lad passed his hand over his forehead. "Mine was, Most Noble! +I should know her again if I ever saw her, but I never shall." + +"Say not that, boy," said the sentry, who, despite his roughness, had a +kind heart and was touched by the sorrow in Roy's voice. "I have an old +comrade down Suryâmer way and I will speak to him of thee and see what +he says; then who knows but----" + +Little Akbar interrupted him gravely. "It is as God chooses. Roy always +says that. Don't you, Roy?" + +"By my word!" said the sentry, saluting, "you are a proper pair of +Kings." + +There were to be three days festival. On the first, that of Pleasure, +everybody was to be dressed in white, on the second day of Power all +were to be in scarlet, and on the third, the day of Fortune, the day on +which little Prince Akbar was to choose his mother, every one was to +wear green. Head-nurse and Foster-mother spent all their time in +devising wonderful new designs for their darling's dresses, and Humâyon +himself added many little fanciful touches, for he had a most wonderful +imagination, and this festival, which was to welcome his wife to Kâbul +and give her back her little son, occupied all his thoughts. + +The queen arrived on the first day, but, according to custom, in a +closed litter, and she went straight to the secluded balcony arranged +for the royal ladies, whence she could see without being seen. So she +had the advantage of her little son, who, in a magnificent costume of +white and silver, looked such a darling that Queen Humeeda longed to hug +him. + +"Has my Amma-_jân_ come?" whispered the little Prince to his father, "is +she up there behind the lattice of roses?" + +"Yea! she is there sure enough, little rogue," laughed Humâyon. "So give +a good look right through the flowers." + +"No!" said little Akbar, "I've got to shut my eyes; then I can see her +with my other eyes." + +But his father was too busy directing the festival to hear what he said. + +So the first day passed on and everybody thought it was the very finest +entertainment that ever was seen. But the second day surpassed it. The +crowds, all in scarlet, filling the gardens, looked like bright roses +amid the green leaves, and the blare of golden trumpets, the scattering +of golden coins as _largesse_, the stately processions of soldiers made +it, indeed, a marvellous show of power; and this was increased by the +arrival of ambassadors from the Shah of Persia, who had so much helped +King Humâyon. They brought magnificent presents and hearty +congratulations on success. So, nothing was lacking; and at night, lit +up by red fires, the scene was one never to be forgotten. But with the +dawn everything changed! A thousand servants set to work, and in one +short half hour the garden showed green. Green carpets, green trees, +green water falling from the fountains like liquid emeralds. And +by-and-bye came green crowds, every shade of green mixing and mingling +in harmony. And inside the arched pavilion of the house of Good Fortune +were green rustlings of silk, green shimmerings of satin as three +hundred ladies of the Court, all veiled with green veils, took their +seats in a semicircle. Three hundred ladies in green all dressed alike! +Which was Queen Humeeda? _That_, it was the part of a child of four to +tell, a child who had not seen his mother for two and a half years! + +The crowd outside, pale green, sage green, emerald green, leaf green, +were hushed to silence, waiting; but from every thicket of rose and +jasmine a chorus of singing birds, deftly concealed in cages behind the +leaves, filled the air as Humâyon and his little son advanced to take +their places. The king was dressed in green also, a fine figure in royal +robes embroidered with a thousand allegorical designs. He took his seat +on a golden throne. + +And little Prince Akbar! + +He was the one spot of colour! He was the flower of the whole garden! +Dressed in rose satin of various shades, he looked indeed what +Head-nurse had called him fondly, thus adding to her string of titles, +"The Rose of the World." + +And now the great moment approaches! The little fellow takes his stand +fearlessly below his father; before him the semicircle of green veiled +ladies; a hundred in the first row, a hundred in the second row, a +hundred in the third row. + +But little Akbar's eyes as he stands there do not wander from row to +row. To tell the truth, his eyes are not open at all! He has them fast +closed; for so, he knows, he can see his mother. + +"Ladies! Unveil!" comes the king's voice. It sounds a little anxious. + +[Illustration: "_Ladies! unveil!_"] + +There is a rustling of silks and satins, a faint swishing of gauze and +muslins, and three hundred faces flash out, like flowers against leaves, +from their green draperies. + +Which is Queen Humeeda's? + +For an instant the child stands silent, his lips trembling, his face +flushing. Then his eyes open and he sees something. + +What is it? + +Is one face less smiling than another? + +Where is it? In the first row, or the second row, or the third row? + +What matter? There is a glad cry of---- + +"Amma-_jân_! My Amma-_jân_. There you are!" And a little flying figure +in rose-coloured satin has dashed across the floor to fling itself into +the arms of--Queen Humeeda. + +Little Akbar has found his own darlingest mother, and there is not a dry +eye in the whole assemblage. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +BETWIXT CUP AND LIP + + +Now it may indeed seem that all our little Heir-to-Empire's troubles +were over; but there is still somewhat to tell of our young hero. To +begin with, Queen Humeeda was a wise woman, and she saw that it was not +good for the little lad to be always at play. She knew that as a King's +son in the East, he would have small time after he was ten for +schooling, and as he was now close on four that did not leave many years +for teaching. + +So a tutor was found for him; but it is to be feared that he was by no +means an industrious scholar. Indeed, we hear of such dreadful things as +playing truant, so that when a day was fixed for an examination by +learned men as to how the Heir-to-Empire was getting on with his +studies, "at the master moment it was found that the scholar, having +attired himself for sport, had disappeared!" Then his first tutor was +dismissed because he encouraged his pupil in pigeon flying, and we read +of his applying his thoughts more to dog-fancying and Arab horses than +to his books. Still he did learn one thing, and a good thing, too. + +The day he was four years and four days old he was taught, as all little +Mohammedans are taught, to understand _what_ he was, _what_ the world +about him was, and to recognise that neither he himself, nor the world +he lived in were the Beginning and the End of all things. It was a +stately ceremonial, not beautiful, and lavish, and expensive like the +Festival of the Mystic Palace, but one which left its mark for always on +the mind of the child. + +Despite his dislike to books as the only way of learning to be wise, he +never forgot the day in the Great Mosque, when, before all his +relations, he had to stand up dressed in his simple every day clothes +and take the Holy Book from the hands of the high priest. And he never +forgot the high priest's words: + +"Read in the Name of Him who hath made all things in Heaven and earth, +and Who hath given men power to be wise." + +"_Bismillah!_--_Irruhman-nirruheem!_" he had answered as in duty bound, +which means, "Thanks be to Him who is merciful in this world and +merciful in the next world." + +In this way young Prince Akbar learned that every man has power to be +wise, and that the great mystery of birth and death is a merciful +mystery. + +Thus the summer passed and in early autumn King Humâyon, who had now +wasted nearly a whole year in amusement, found it necessary to quell +rebellion in a neighbouring province. + +So the governorship of Kâbul was made over to a trusted noble of the +Court, one Shurruf Khân by name, who was made as it were Regent for +little Prince Akbar, who was left with his attendants in regal state at +the palace in the Bala Hissar, while Queen Humeeda went back to India, +taking Bija with her, on a visit to her mother's relations. + +Roy, whose story had become known in the Court, was now made equerry to +the young prince, and very handsome he looked in his chain armour, with +the noonday sun all rayed and shiny in gold on his breast, in token that +he claimed to be a Sun-hero. As, indeed, seemed likely, since the Afghan +sentry's old Suryâmer friend had a tale about a young Râjah who had been +kidnapped and, it was supposed, left in the desert to die. But whether +Roy was the young Râjah or not, who could tell? They might send the +story to Suryâmer and see what befell. Meanwhile Roy was happy, and +little Akbar and he became more and more like elder and younger brother. +How much in after years the prince owed to the companionship of this +friend of his childhood it is impossible to say. Perhaps it accounts for +the marvellous way in which the Great Emperor Akbar ruled his Hindoo +subjects. + +Humâyon had expected to return in a month's time, but luck was against +him. A King cannot waste a whole year in amusement and so let wicked men +have time to hatch plots without suffering for it. And Humâyon did +suffer. He had to march and counter-march with winter coming on apace, +until he was struck down by sudden illness. At first the news caused no +alarm, for he was known to be strong and healthy; but there came a day +when folk began to whisper that the King was said to be lying +unconscious, that death might come any moment. + +The news stirred the whole city of Kâbul to its depths. It had but +lately passed into the hands of Humâyon. There were not wanting many who +preferred Kumran, and Kumran was in exile waiting an opportunity. + +And that came with the suddenness of a summer storm. One night the gates +of the town were closed by the Regent Shurruf Khân in Humâyon's name; +the next dawn saw the Iron Entry, after a brief scuffle, opened in the +name of Kumran! There was a rush of armed men through the streets of the +town, a murder or two of loyal men in high authority. And then? + +Up at the Bala Hissar, Foster-father roused from his sleep, went in +haste to the Regent, expecting to hear bugles, to find troops gatherings +for defence; but the gates of the Fort were open! + +Shurruf Khân was traitor! He had gone over to the enemy. Ere an hour was +over Kumran, scowling, walked up and down the royal apartments, a King +once more; but biting his lips and frowning over something that stood +between him and perfect revenge! + +Foster-father, good old fool, was back in his dungeon in the well, +where this time he would rot. The women, as a change, were walled up in +a tiny room, where, bread and water being thrust in to them, they might +eat and live, or starve and die as they chose. + +But the Heir-to-Empire? What of him? Ah! fool that he had been to make +that promise to a crafty old woman who had died in order to spite him. +Kumran's anger rose fierce; he would have given anything to break his +oath; but he could not. He was not strong enough; even his wickedness +was not real. + +But, short of death, the young heir should have no shelter. Kumran flung +him into a miserable cell close to the Iron Gate and thought no more of +him. And now, but for faithful Roy, Akbar would indeed have been in +sorry plight. They had barely enough to eat, but Roy stinted himself, +eating nothing but the hard half-burned crusts of the coarse +hearth-cakes and excusing himself from even touching the miserable mess +of pease-porridge on the ground that he did not like it. So he grew thin +and his brown deer-eyes had a startled look. Indeed, he hardly slept at +all, but watched and dozed beside his little master all night long. + +Yet he was always cheerful. Always ready with stories and songs. When he +could not remember any new-old ones, he took to inventing tales of +people who were always in dangers and difficulties, but who took no +notice of them, who went on their way trusting in the Truth. + +"For! see you!" he would finish gravely, + + "He who has Truth + Need fear no ruth." + +So, ever and always his hero came out of his trials scathless. + +And, by degrees, this faith in final good grew deep into both the boys' +hearts, and showed in their very faces. + +"By my word!" said the Afghan sentry, whom chance one day sent to guard +them. "Ye be a precious pair of Kings!" + +He could admire them, though he did not seem in the least ashamed of +having yet once more turned his coat; for he was again on Kumran's side. + +How time passed none of the prisoners cared to count. But one day the +sudden roar of a great gun told them that the city was once more +besieged. In truth, Humâyon hearing, while still on his bed of sickness, +the fatal news of Shurruf Khân's treachery, had strained every nerve, +ill as he was, to come to the rescue of his little son. It was +midwinter, the passes were blocked with snow, he and his troops had to +meet endless hardships; but at last they were before Kâbul once more. +Camped on the Arkabân hill, opposite the Iron Gate, the artillery were +brought into position, the first shot fired. + +It would take too long to follow all the varied incidents of the siege. +But one thing was constant. Night after night recruits from inside the +town managed to scale the walls and join King Humâyon's forces. They +were getting tired of Kumran, who, unable to satisfy his cruelty on the +little Heir-to-Empire, vented it on all and sundry. And day by day as +the number of the besieged dwindled, bit after bit of the town fell into +the besiegers' hands, until at last only the Bala Hissar remained. But +the Bala Hissar is a town in itself, and many a time has it withstood a +siege successfully. + +Now, however, it was near to the death. There could be no more talk or +thought of escape. Kumran, ever half-hearted, tried it one night and +failed, losing many followers in the attempt. + +After that his face hardened. He went about dreaming of revenge--revenge +on Humâyon, even revenge on Dearest-Lady, who had tied his hands. + +"_Till I return!_" + +No! Dead folks can never return to the worldly. Even their memory comes +seldom, save to the pure in heart. + +And one night he hit on a plan. The fort was almost at its last gasp. +All day Sumbal Khân, Humâyon's famous artillery general, had been +pounding away at the Iron Gate with deadly aim. A few more well-sent +shots would leave the bastion crumbling, and then---- + +Then would come the assault through the breach, and Kumran knew he could +not face it. His force was too small. + +So about midnight the door of Akbar's prison room was opened and Kumran +with a few armed men stood within. + +Roy, startled from a doze, was on his feet in a second. + +"What want ye?" he challenged fiercely. + +"Let the Hindoo fool alone," said Kumran to those who would have seized +on the Râjput lad. "All we want is the child. Take him, slaves, and be +quick about it." + +Ere the words were out of his mouth a stalwart man bent to lift the +sleeping Heir-to-Empire. Roy's sword flashed the same second, but, held +back by sneering men, he was helpless. + +"What want ye with him? I say, what want ye with him?" panted the poor +lad as he struggled madly. + +Kumran paused at the door to turn an icy cold look of cruelty upon him. +"What! Thou wouldst know? Then thou shalt have it, young idolater. It +may cool thy hot blood. I will dress him in dust colour like the walls +of Kâbul and hang him over the battlement at dawn as a mark for my +brother's artillery. Then we shall see the breach in my citadel made! +Then we shall see my revenge--but it will not be of my making! His +father shall kill him." + +So with a mirthless laugh he followed his men, who were bearing away the +Heir-to-Empire, still but half awake. + +Roy stood for one second like a stone, too horror stricken for full +belief; but the echoing laugh convinced him; with a wild cry he rushed +to the narrow window and shook fruitlessly at its iron bars like a wild +animal when it is newly caged. But they were immovable. + +Yet something must be done--something--something---- + +The thought of dawn was too dreadful. The beautiful, calm, peaceful +April dawn, shadowy grey! Just light enough to see the outline of the +Bala Hissar, just light enough to begin upon the breach once more; but +too dark to see what was in the line of fire. + +Yes! Something must be done, and done swiftly. Not four hours left +before the eastern hills would begin to show dark against the coming of +day. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +ESCAPED + + +Once more Roy felt helpless and hopeless before the great task which +seemed to be laid upon him. He alone out of all the little +Heir-to-Empire's guardians knew the dire danger he was in. Yet how could +he, a poor, prisoned Râjput lad, save the young prince? + +Still he had to be saved; he must be saved; and there was no time to be +lost. At dawn the firing would recommence from the Arkabân hill; at dawn +the helpless child would be in the half-breached bastion exposed to that +fire! + +Yes! He, Roy, must get out somehow. If he could only loosen one bar of +the window so that he could squeeze through, then he might be able to +let himself down by a rope twined out of his long waist-cloth and +turban! Thus he might be able to get out of the fort! He might be able +to gain the camp on the Arkabân hill before dawn! So he might be able to +warn the guns not to fire on the bastion; might be able to tell them +that the Heir-to-Empire hung there! + +What a number of "might be ables"; but would he be able, even for the +first task? + +He took up his sword and began forthwith on the iron bar; but the mortar +was hard, he could scarcely make a mark upon it. Still, it must be done. +In order to free his arms better for the work he took off all his +clothes save his flimsy, sleeveless waistcoat and the loin-cloth that +was girt about him, and buckled down steadily. But when more than an +hour had passed the bar seemed as firm as ever. As he crouched down on +the window sill he could see through it to the flat roof of the +neighboring palaces; for it was a bright moonlight night still, though +the moon must be nigh to her setting. So the thought crossed his mind +that if he could only squeeze through he might be able to reach one of +those roofs; since, if he remembered aright, a wide cornice ran just +below. He paused for a second in his labour to see if this was so, +craning his head through the crossbars. Yes, the cornice was there! +Scarcely wide enough for a cat to walk, but if he got through in time he +would risk it. He must risk it! + +But would he get through in time? He set to work again feverishly until +suddenly a familiar sound reached his ear from outside; the sound of a +cat purring! + +Could it be Down? She had not found them out in their new prison, but if +she had happened to be on the roof when he looked out of the window she +might have seen him or smelled him--yes! There was a white cat on the +cornice, and the next moment Down was on the sill, arching her back and +purring away contentedly. + +So she had found them at last--no! not _them_, for the Heir-to-Empire +was not there--he had been stolen away! Roy could have leaned his head +on Down's soft fur and cried his heart out in despair at his own +helplessness, but he set his teeth instead and dug harder with the sword +point. + +Would the bar never loosen? So the minutes passed without a sound save +the grating of the eager sword and the soft, soothing purr of the cat as +she sat beside him watching him indifferently. Then suddenly the latter +ceased and Down leaped swiftly to the floor of the cell. Doubtless she +heard something. Cats hear so many things humans do not hear, and they +seem to know so many things humans do not know, so perhaps she heard a +mouse far down the arched passage, or even in the next cell. Anyhow she +marched straight to the door and stood by it, _miaowing_ to be let out. +Ah! if he only could let her out! If the door were only open, thought +poor Roy, as he worked away at the still immovable bar. + +"No! Down, no! I can't," he murmured bitterly as the cat _miaowed_ more +and more insistently. + +But still the _miaowing_ went on. Down became quite plaintive, then +ill-used; finally she leaped onto Roy's shoulder, licked his ear with +her rough red tongue as if to coax him, and was back again at the door +asking to be let out. + +Why was she so set on it? Roy turned to look at her half stupidly and +for a moment forgot his task; forgot how rapidly time was passing; +forgot everything save that Down was asking to be let out. So wearily he +passed to the door, and scarcely conscious of what he was doing, laid +his hand on the latch. + +"I can't, Down," he said; "I can't open--" He broke off hurriedly. + +For the latch yielded, the door opened!! + +It could never have been locked!! + +Had they forgotten, or, having secured the Heir-to-Empire, had they not +cared what became of the henchman? The latter, most likely, for there +was no sentry in the arched passage along which Down had already +disappeared. + +Another second and Roy, sword in hand, had disappeared down it also, +remembering as he ran a certain little fretted marble balcony which gave +on the gardens below. For Roy, of course, knew every turn of the Bala +Hissar. This balcony opened onto an unused gallery room. To gain this, +bolt the heavy door behind him, and so, secure from interruption, set to +work twining a rope from strips torn from his turban and waistband did +not take long; but it was a good twenty minutes before he had knotted +all fast; though while he worked he thought of nothing else; of nothing +but somehow reaching the garden. Once there he would face the next +difficulty. One was enough at a time. And then, when he had made the +rope fast to one of the marble pillars and slid down it, it proved too +short. He swung with his feet just touching the topmost branch of a +blossoming peach tree. There was nothing for it but to let go, snatch at +the branches as he fell and trust to chance for safety. He found it; and +dropped to the ground amid a perfect shower of shed peach petals. + +So he stood for an instant to consider what must come next. A gate! Aye! +but which? The farthest from the point of attack would be the best, as +there would be less vigilance there. That meant the Delhi gate, and +meant also a long round; yet he must be quick, for already there was a +faint lightening of the eastern sky. But the moon had set and the +shadows, always darker in the hour before dawn, lay upon all things. + +And luckily he knew every turn of the Bala Hissar garden, knew every +point where danger might be expected. So he began to make his way +carefully. He dodged more than one sentry by creeping on through the +bushes while the man passed away from him, and crouched among them, +still as a mouse, while the measured march came toward him. And once he +had to run for bare life from a shower of arrows which a company of +soldiers sent into the darkness after a suspicious rustling in the +bushes. But mostly the men on duty had too much to think of outside the +walls to trouble themselves much about the things inside them. + +So with doublings and turnings he came at last on the Delhi gate, a +small, round, flat-roofed building pierced by a high archway. It was too +dark for him to see its outline, but he knew it well, and paused against +the outside wall to consider what he had to do next. The place seemed +almost deserted, but a glimmer of light from the archway and the even +tramp of a sentry's footstep told it was not all unguarded. + +What was he to do? It would be useless for him to try and steal past the +sentry, as the gate beyond must be locked, or at any rate bolted and +barred. He must either, therefore, try and overpower the man or else try +to gain the flat roof by the stairs--of which he knew the position--and, +trusting to find a rope or something of the sort in the upper room of +the gate, let himself down into the ditch outside. + +Now, Roy was a well-grown lad of nigh fifteen, tall for his age, and +with his light, youthful sinews of iron might well be a match for many a +man, especially as his purpose was like steel, and that is ever half the +battle. But there was the chance of other soldiers being within call, +and that might mean failure. Now, _that_ must not be. Roy had to +succeed--he must! + +Therefore the roof was the wiser, safer plan; he must make for the +stairs, trusting to escape notice when the sentry's back was turned. +Till then--silence! + +But even as he settled this in his mind Fate was against him. As he +crouched in the darkness something cold suddenly touched his face, and +the next moment a clamour of excited yappings and joyful barks arose, +as something warm and furry and cold and slobbery flung itself all over +him. + +Tumbu! It could be nothing but blundering, bumbling Tumbu! He made one +useless effort to still the dog, then rose to his feet feeling himself +discovered, prepared to run for it. But it was too late. A sentry, +lantern in hand, roused by the commotion, barred the way. All seemed +lost, but a ray of hope shone when the familiar voice of the Afghan +sentry, the unrepentant turncoat, was heard as the lantern waved in +Roy's very face. + +"By my word, one of the Kings! How come you hither at this time o' +night, friend?" + +The voice was a little thick, as if the owner, finding the quiet of the +Delhi Gate wearisome, had sought amusement in a skin of wine. + +Roy gave a gasp--he was too confused for thought. "The dog--" he began. + +"Aye! The dog that was yours and is mine," jeered the sentry. "So he +nosed you out, did he? Knows his duty--good dog, Tumbu! Knows his master +now! Knows who saved him from starvation when he was lurking about in +the gutter. Eh! you brute!" + +He lunged a kick at Tumbu, who retreated a step, looking from the new to +the old master, feeling, in truth, a trifle confused. For the Afghan +sentry had certainly found him homeless, friendless, and the dog had +stuck by him, feeling that here at least was something vaguely connected +with the past life. But now he stood doubtful, expectant, his little +ears pricked, his small eyes watchful. + +"Well," continued the sentry with a half-drunken laugh, "dog or no dog, +you've no business here, so come along with me, my King." + +He reached out a heavy hand, and Roy shrunk from it. As he did so there +came a sound which sent the blood to Roy's heart with a spasm of instant +hope, of possible escape. It was Tumbu's low growl as he realised that +some one wanted to touch his old master and that his old master did not +want to be touched. + +"At him, Tumbu! At him, good dog!" The words came to Roy in a flash, and +like a flash the great, powerful dog leaped forward, his fur a-bristle, +his white teeth gleaming, and the next instant, taken by the suddenness +of the attack, the sentry lay on his back half stunned by the fall, +while Tumbu, on the top of him, checked even a cry by a clutch at his +throat. A soft clutch so far; but one that would tear through flesh if +needful. + +Roy was on his knees beside the fallen man. + +"Hist! not a sound or the dog shall kill you. He can. Give me the keys. +I want to get out of the gate! The keys, do you hear?" + +The sentry tried to struggle, but warned by the weight of the dog on his +breast and those sharp teeth ready to close upon his throat, murmured +hoarsely, "It is only barred, but the bolts are difficult. If you will +let me get up and call off your dog----" + +But Roy took no heed of his words. "Keep him there, Tumbu," he whispered +as he ran to the gate. + +Bolted and barred it was, and in the darkness of the archway it was hard +to see, for the lantern had gone out in the scuffle. But there was no +time to lose, for already beyond the archway it showed faintly light. +One bar down! The sentry made a faint effort to stir, that was answered +by an ominous growl from Tumbu. + +Only one more bolt now! + +Roy's long fingers were at it--his whole strength went to it--it +creaked--groaned--slid, and with a sob of exultation Roy felt the fresh +air of dawn in his face as he stood outside the Bala Hissar. + +But he had still much to do. The city must be skirted, the hill of +Arkabân gained, and already a faint primrose streak in the eastern sky +told of coming light. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +DAWN + + +Upon the Arkabân hill the artillery men were already at work. In those +days guns were not what they are now, quick loading, quick firing. + +It needed a good hour to ram the coarse powder down, adjust the round +ball and prepare the priming; to say nothing of the task of aiming. So, +long ere dawn, the glimmering lights were seen about the battery, which, +perched on a hill, gave on the half-breached bastion. Between the two +stretched an open space of undulating ground. Sumbal, "the master +fireworker," as he is called in the old history books, was up betimes +seeing to his men, and with him came a grave, silent man, who, though he +had no interest in the quarrels of Humâyon and his brothers, was as +eager as any to get within the walls of Kâbul and find what he sought--a +Râjput lad of whom word had been brought to a little half-desert Râjput +state lying far away in the Jesulmer plain. + +For the grave, silent man, who showed so much knowledge of warfare, who +was keen to see everything new in weapons and the handling of them, was +a messenger sent by a widowed mother to see if indeed it could be her +long-lost son, of whom a certain old trooper had spoken on his return +from Kâbul. + +"See you!" said Sumbal, who was a bit of a boaster, "give me time to aim +and I'll warrant me 'Thunder of God'" (that was the name let in with +gold on the breech of the gun) "will hit the mark within a yard every +time. Thou shalt see it ere-long. There is a sort of pigeon place on the +face of the bastion where I will aim, and thou shalt see the splinters +of it spin!" He shaded his eyes with his hand and looked piercingly into +the shadows. "'Tis too dark to see it yet, but so soon as it shows I +will let fly, and then----" + +And then? + +Roy, who had never stopped for a breath yet in his headlong race, was at +that very moment rounding on the bastion, and looking up, saw what he +had feared to see--a little figure bound hand and foot to a framework of +wood that hung close to what Sumbal had called the pigeon place, seeming +to form part of it. The child was not crying. Perhaps he was past that. +Perhaps he had never cried, but had taken this last and urgent danger as +he had taken others, with grave dignity. + +All we know is that he hung there on the wall, and that before his very +eyes the light was growing in the east, and over in the hill battery a +dozen men were sweating away to bring the "Thunder of God" into +position. Roy gave a gasp. Should he call to the little Heir-to-Empire +and let him know that a friend was near, that help might come? No! +perhaps he did not realise his danger. It was better to let be. + +So gathering all his forces for a last effort, he dashed into the open +for the final five minutes' run. And there could be no dodging here. +Every loophole of the bastion was, he knew, crammed with the matchlocks +of many marksmen. And there was now, worse luck, little darkness to +cover him! + +"Three minutes more, friend!" said Sumbal boastfully, "and thou shalt +see what thou wilt see. Slave! the port fire, quick. I will give the +signal. Lo! What is up?" + +A rattle of musketry rose on the still air of dawn, and an artillery man +leaned over the low embrasure to see better into the intervening valley. + +"Some one escaping," he said with a yawn, for he had been up half the +night. "Lo! he runs like a hare! But they will have him, for sure." + +"Quick," called Sumbal, "we will silence their noise. The portfire, I +say. I will fire old Thunderer myself." + +The man carrying the flaming flashlight handed it to his superior, but +in so doing by some mischance it dropped, and in the dropping went out! + +"Fool!" cried Sumbal passionately. "Are we to stand insulted here +without reply while thou fetchest another? Put him in irons, sergeant, +and bring light at once!" + +But the grave, silent Râjput was watching the runner. "He is but a +boy," he said slowly, "yet see how he runs. And they have hit him, for +he staggers. Yet he comes on. He must bring news, friend, for sure!" + +[Illustration: "_I stay my hand while I count ten--no more._"] + +"News!" echoed Sumbal contemptuously; "we have half a hundred such +runaways coming in every day. It is no news that King Humâyon is better +liked than Kumran. Lo! hast thou it at last?" He snatched the portfire +from the sergeant and went toward the gun. + +"Stay one moment, friend!" said the grave and silent man with sudden +command in his voice. "A moment's hastiness may bring disaster. +Discretion is better than valour. Yonder boy brings news--he waves his +arms--he shouts! Stay at least till we can hear what he says." + +Sumbal laughed. "Bah! But, see you, I stay my hand while I count ten--no +more." + +"One! two! three! four!" + +The artillery men, amused at the race, leaned over. "He runs well!--He +will win!--He will lose!--He climbs like a hill cat!"---- + +"_Five! six! seven! eight! nine!_" + +And now, unintelligible from sheer breathlessness, Roy's voice is heard. +The grave, silent Râjput leaps out to meet him. + +"_Ten!_" + +Sumbal's hand swings the portfire to the breech. + +Roy sees it, throws up his arms wildly, and with a cry-- + +"The bastion! The bastion! The Heir-to-Empire!" falls headlong into the +Râjput's arms. + +"What did he say?" asked the master fireworker, pausing half surprised, +half angry. + +But the Râjput was too busy tearing aside Roy's flimsy, bloodstained +waistcoat to answer. + +"Something about the bastion and the Heir-to-Empire, master!" said the +sergeant doubtfully. "Mayhap 'twould be as well to wait till we can see +more clearly. Kumran," he added in a lower voice, "would stick at +naught----" + +Sumbal hesitated, then put down the portfire and walked over to the +fallen lad, beside whom the stranger was kneeling. + +"He is not dead! He is not dead!" said the grave, silent Râjput, looking +up, his face working, the tears streaming down his bronzed cheek. "My +master is not dead!" + +"Who?" asked Sumbal, uncomprehending. + +"I knew it must be he!" went on the man exultantly, even in his grief. +"None could do that sort of thing save a Sun hero! My Master! my King! +See, here the race mark on his breast! The sign of uttermost truth! My +Master! My King!" + +But Roy did not hear himself called thus. He did not even know for days +afterwards if he had succeeded or if he had failed; for a wound just +above the heart, close to the sign-mark of his race, very nearly carried +him off into the Shadowy Land where all things are remembered, yet all +are forgotten. + +But he _had_ succeeded. He had saved the Heir-to-Empire's life that +dawn, and a day or two afterwards Kumran, daily more hated for his +cruelty, had escaped, and the soldiers, rejoiced to get rid of him, +flung open the gates of the Bala Hissar, thus ending Prince Akbar's +adventures. + +But when Roy came to himself Mirak was sitting beside him and Down was +purring on Bija's lap; Bija, who had just returned from India with Queen +Humeeda in time to console the Heir-to-Empire for all he must have +suffered during the few days he was left alone with cruel Uncle Kumran. +How much he had suffered no one knew, and the little fellow refused to +say anything about it. It was a way he had when the luck went against +him. So, just as he had remarked when he had fallen down the ravine, +when the white cat and the black dog first came to him, that he had +"tumbu-down," so now he simply said that it wasn't "very comfy," but +that Tumbu had come to see him more than once. And this was possible, +for you may be sure that once he allowed the Afghan sentry to rise, +Tumbu, being a wise dog, never went near him again. Therefore he _had_ +to find his old master. + +And Foster-father, Foster-mother and Head-nurse were all there, the +latter greatly subdued for the time, and in her gratitude to Roy +inclined to give him some of the titles she was wont to bestow on little +Prince Akbar. + +For there was no doubt whatever that the lad was the rightful Râjah of +Suryâmer, whom wicked rebels had exposed in the desert to die, who had +been found and kept alive by wandering goatherds and had finally been +discovered when unconscious from sunstroke by the royal fugitives. + +And out of this arose the only sadness of the happy May days when the +little party once more journeyed out to Babar's tomb towards evening to +sit under the _arghawân_ trees and watch the sunset. + +Of course Dearest-Lady was not there, but all the others were assembled, +and Down, the cat, purred as loud as ever, while Tumbu, the dog, +frolicked round even more like a golliwog than before. But it was not +the absence of the Khânzâda Khânum which made faces thoughtful at times. +She, they knew, was at rest, and they laid flowers for her beside those +they gathered in memory of Firdoos Gita Makâni--on whom be peace! + +No! it was the knowledge that Roy could not remain with them. So soon as +he was strong again he must go back to his mother, go back to a people +who, tired of rebellion, were longing for their old rulers. + +"You see, brother, I am a King," said Roy sorrowfully, "and Kings cannot +always do what they like." + +"Do you think they ever do, _really_?" asked the little Heir-to-Empire +gravely, "for I don't." + +And here we come to the end--for a time at least--of Prince Akbar's +adventures. + +Now, if you want to know how much of this so-called veracious story is +really true, I cannot quite say. + +Did some one like Roy _really_ tell the master fireworker that the +Heir-to-Empire was hung over the battlements of the bastion? If some one +did not, how did the master-fireworker find it out? And he did; indeed, +in the history books he takes great credit to himself for _having_ found +it out. But then he was a boaster. + +Then did Dearest-Lady really bind Kumran by an oath not to harm the +Heir-to-Empire until she returned? + +If she did not, then why did she, an old, frail woman of seventy, go out +into the wilderness just as winter was coming on, and why did not cruel +Kumran kill the Heir-to-Empire when he had him in his power? + +These are all questions; but what is certain is that Baby Akbar did go +through all these adventures before he was five years old. + +So good-bye, brave little lads! Good-bye, stout old Foster-father and +kindly Foster-mother! Good-bye, worthy Head-nurse with your strings of +titles, and good-bye, dainty little Bija! Good-bye also to grinning +Meroo, to purring Down, and frolicking Tumbu! + +And for those other three whose memory remained--Old Faithful, Dearest +Lady, and the Great Emperor, Firdoos Gita Makâni, who all helped the +little prince to safety, what of them? + +"Heaven," as the marble slab among the tulips and violets of the +Garden-of-the-New-Year says, + + "'Is their eternal abode.'" + + +WOODS & SONS, LTD., PRINTERS, LONDON, N. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Adventures of Akbar, by Flora Annie Steel + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF AKBAR *** + +***** This file should be named 18307-8.txt or 18307-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/3/0/18307/ + +Produced by Suzanne Lybarger, Brian Janes and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Adventures of Akbar + +Author: Flora Annie Steel + +Illustrator: Byam Shaw + +Release Date: May 4, 2006 [EBook #18307] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF AKBAR *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Lybarger, Brian Janes and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="bbox"> +<div class="boxtext"> +<p><b>Transcriber's Note:</b> The following variant spellings used by the author +were retained as printed: Babar/Baber, Sultanum/Sultanam, gray/grey, Allah/Alâh, meaowed/miaowed. Also, +for this HTML version, illustrations have been moved to their relevant locations +in the text, though the original page references in the List of Illustrations have been preserved.) +</p> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<h1>THE ADVENTURES OF AKBAR</h1> + +<p class="figcenter"><img src="./images/cover.jpg" +alt="cover illustration" title="cover illustration" /></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="bbox"> +<div class="boxtext"> +<h3><i>Uniform with this Volume</i></h3> + +<p style="text-align: center">Price 6/-net each</p> + + +<p>THE SECRET GARDEN, by <span class="smcap">Frances Hodgson Burnett</span>, author of "The Shuttle," +etc., illustrated by <span class="smcap">Charles Robinson</span>.</p> + +<p>THE FOUR GARDENS, by <span class="smcap">"Handasyde</span>," illustrated by <span class="smcap">Charles Robinson</span>.</p> + +<p>ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND, by <span class="smcap">Lewis Carroll</span>, illustrated by +<span class="smcap">Arthur Rackham</span>.</p> + +<p>ÆSOP'S FABLES, translated by <span class="smcap">V. S. Vernon Jones</span>, with an introduction by +<span class="smcap">G. K. Chesterton</span>, illustrated by <span class="smcap">Arthur Rackham</span>.</p> + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> + +<p style="text-align: center;"> +<span class="smcap">London</span>: WILLIAM HEINEMANN<br /> +21, BEDFORD STREET, W.C.<br /> +</p> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><a name="illus001"></a></p> +<p class="figcenter"><img src="./images/illus001.jpg" +alt="On a shelving bank of dry sand Baby Akbar sitting up and rubbing his eyes." +title="On a shelving bank of dry sand Baby Akbar sitting up and rubbing his eyes." /></p> + +<p class="figcenter caption"><i>On a shelving bank of dry sand Baby Akbar sitting up and +rubbing his eyes.</i></p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1>THE ADVENTURES OF AKBAR</h1> + +<h3>by</h3> + +<h2>FLORA ANNIE STEEL</h2> + +<h3>ILLUSTRATED BY BYAM SHAW</h3> + +<p class="figcenter"><img src="./images/title.jpg" +alt="title page" title="title page" /></p> + +<h4>LONDON · WILLIAM HEINEMANN · 1913</h4> + +<hr style="width: 35%;" /> + +<p style="text-align: center;"><i>All rights reserved</i></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>A DEDICATION</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oft when the house lay silent in the heat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My thoughts would be so full of you, my sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That dreaming half—I seemed to hear once more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your little fingers fluttering at the door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pitter patter of your childish feet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In joyous rhythm cross the echoing floor.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then small, soft hands would nestle into mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And warm soft arms around my neck would twine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As soft and warm the dream child on my knees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cuddling so close in clear young voice would tease<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tease and tease in mimicked glad young whine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For "Just one little story if you please."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So half in jest and half in earnest, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mostly I think to dream my dreaming true,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd conjure up long tales of lands afar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And days gone by that yet remembered are;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shaping my stories with this end in view<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To gain the verdict "Tell some more, Mamma."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For I was happy when I had beguiled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into my life the spirit of a child.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus one by one the weary hours flew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And page by page a little volume grew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So—that my dreams with truth be reconciled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take it, my darling, it was writ for you.<br /></span> +<span class="i20"><i>April, 1875</i></span> +</div></div> + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Long years have sped since that poor book was penned.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None read the pages. Therefore at the end<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of this world's life I dedicate to two<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Small boys—her sons—whose question'ng eyes of blue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell me that dreams of childhood never end<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>This</i> book. So take it boys—'twas writ for you.<br /></span> +<span class="i20"><i>1911</i></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>PREFACE</h2> + + +<p>This book is written for all little lads and lasses, but especially for +the former, since it is the true—<i>quite</i> true—story of a little lad +who lived to be, perhaps, the greatest king this world has ever seen.</p> + +<p>It is a strange, wild tale this of the adventures of Prince Akbar among +the snowy mountains between Kandahâr and Kâbul, and though the names may +be a bit of a puzzle at first, as they will have to be learned by and +bye in geography and history lessons, it might be as well to get +familiar with them in a story-book; though, indeed, as everybody in it +except Roy the Râjput, Meroo the cook boy; Tumbu, the dog; and Down, the +cat (and these four <i>may</i> have been true, you know, though they have not +been remembered) really lived, I don't know whether this book oughtn't +to be considered real history, and therefore</p> + +<p style="text-align: center;"> +A LESSON BOOK<br /> +</p> + +<p>Anyhow, I hope you won't find it dull.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align='right' colspan='2'><span class="smcap">page</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>PREFACE</td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><b>CHAPTER I</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>FAREWELL</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><b>CHAPTER II</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE FIRST VICTORY</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><b>CHAPTER III</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE ROYAL UMBRELLA</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_20">20</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><b>CHAPTER IV</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>TUMBU-DOWN</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_27">27</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><b>CHAPTER V</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>ON THE ROAD</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_39">39</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><b>CHAPTER VI</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>AT COURT</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><b>CHAPTER VII</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>WINTER</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_58">58</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><b>CHAPTER VIII</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>DOWN'S STRATAGEM</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><b>CHAPTER IX</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>SPRING</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><b>CHAPTER X</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE NIGHT OF RECORD</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_88">88</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><b>CHAPTER XI</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A WINTER MARCH</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_100">100</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><b>CHAPTER XII</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>SNOW AND ICE</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_109">109</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><b>CHAPTER XIII</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>OVER THE PASS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_119">119</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><b>CHAPTER XIV</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>IN THE VALLEY</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_128">128</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><b>CHAPTER XV</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>DEAREST-LADY</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_138">138</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><b>CHAPTER XVI</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CRUEL BROTHER KUMRAN</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_147">147</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><b>CHAPTER XVII</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>IMPRISONMENT</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_159">159</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><b>CHAPTER XVIII</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE GARDEN OF GAMES</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_169">169</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><b>CHAPTER XIX</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>BETWIXT CUP AND LIP</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_178">178</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><b>CHAPTER XX</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>ESCAPED</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_187">187</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><b>CHAPTER XXI</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>DAWN</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_196">196</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations"> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#illus001">ON A SHELVING BANK OF DRY SAND BABY AKBAR SITTING UP AND RUBBING HIS EYES</a></td><td align='right'><i>Frontispiece</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='right'><i>To face page</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#illus002">PRINCE ASKURRY ... STRODE ... INTO THE TENT</a></td><td align='right'>16</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#illus003">THE CHILD HAD SLIPPED IT ONTO HIS LITTLE FOREFINGER</a></td><td align='right'>62</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#illus005">SO THEY BOTH TOUCHED THE COLD MARBLE FLOOR WITH THEIR WARM LITTLE FOREHEADS</a></td><td align='right'>98</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#illus006">AHEAD OF THEM, A SHADOW SHOWED, A SHAMBLING SHADOW! TUMBU ... WITH A BOUND WAS OFF FULL TILT AFTER IT</a></td><td align='right'>126</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#illus007">AND ONE DAY THE DOOR DID OPEN.... "MY SON—MY LITTLE SON!"</a></td><td align='right'>166</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#illus008">"LADIES! UNVEIL!"</a></td><td align='right'>176</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#illus009">"I STAY MY HAND WHILE I COUNT TEN—NO MORE"</a></td><td align='right'>198</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h2>FAREWELL</h2> + + +<p style="text-align: center;"><i>Bismillah Al-la-hu Akbar!</i></p> + +<p>These queer-looking, queer-sounding words, which in Arabic mean "thanks +be to God," were shrilled out at the very top of Head-nurse's voice. Had +she been in a room they would have filled it and echoed back from the +walls; for she was a big, deep-chested woman. But she was only in a +tent; a small tent, which had been pitched in a hurry in an +out-of-the-way valley among the low hills that lead from the wide plains +of India to Afghanistan. For Head-nurse's master and mistress, King +Humâyon and Queen Humeeda, with their thirteen months' old little son, +Prince Akbar, were flying for their lives before their enemies. And +these enemies were led by Humâyon's own brothers, Prince Kumran, Askurry +and Hindal. It is a long story, and a sad story, too, how Humâyon, so +brave, so clever, so courteous, fell into misfortune by his own fault, +and had to fly from his beautiful palaces at Delhi and wander for years, +pursued like a hare, amid the sandy deserts and pathless plains of +Western India. And now, as a last resource, his followers dwindled to a +mere handful, he was making a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> desperate effort to escape over the +Persian border and claim protection at the hands of Persia's King.</p> + +<p>So the poor tent was ragged and out at elbows, for all that it was made +of costly Kashmir shawls, and that its poles were silver-gilt.</p> + +<p>But Head-nurse's "Thanks be to God!" came from a full heart.</p> + +<p>"What is it? What <i>is</i> it?" called an anxious voice from behind the +curtain which divided the tent in two.</p> + +<p>"What?" echoed Head-nurse in high glee. "Only this: His Imperial +Highness, Prince Akbar, the Admired-of-the-World, the Source-of-Dignity, +the Most-Magnificent-Person-of-the-Period—" She went on, after her +wont, rolling out all the titles that belonged of right to the little +Prince, until the soft, anxious voice lost patience and called again, +"Have done—have done; what is it? Heaven save he hath not been in +danger."</p> + +<p>Head-nurse, stopped in her flow of fine words, sniffed contemptuously. +"Danger! with me to guard him? No! 'Tis that the High-in-Pomp hath cut +his first real back tooth! He can eat meat! He has come to man's estate! +He is no longer dependent upon milk diet." Here she gave a withering +glance at the gentle looking woman who was Baby Akbar's wet-nurse, who, +truth to tell, was looking just a little sad at the thought that her +nursling would soon leave her consoling arms.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Heavens!" exclaimed the voice from within, "say you so?" And the next +instant the curtain parted, and there was Queen Humeeda, Baby Akbar's +mother, all smiling and eager.</p> + +<p>Now, if you want to know what she was like, you must just think of your +own dearest dear mummie. At least that was what she seemed to little +Prince Akbar, who, at the sight of her, held out his little fat arms and +crowed, "Amma! Amma!" Now, this, you will observe, is only English +"Ma-Ma" arranged differently; from which you may guess that English and +Indian children are really very much alike.</p> + +<p>And Queen Humeeda took the child and kissed him and hugged him just as +any English mother would have done. Head-nurse, however, was not a bit +satisfied with this display of affection. That would have been the +portion of any ordinary child, and Baby Akbar was more than that: he was +the heir apparent to the throne of India! If he had only been in the +palaces that belonged to him, instead of in a miserable tent, there +would have been ceremonials and festivities and fireworks over this +cutting of a tooth! Aye! <i>Certainly</i> fireworks. But how could one keep +up court etiquette when royalty was flying for its life? Impossible! +Why, even her determination that, come what might, a royal umbrella must +be held over the blessed infant during their perilous journeys had very +nearly led to his being captured!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p> + +<p>Despite this recollection, as she listened impatiently to the cooings +and gurglings, she turned over in her mind what she could do to +commemorate the occasion. And when pretty Queen Humeeda (thinking of her +husband, the king, who, with his few followers, had ridden off to see if +a neighboring chief would help them) said, "This will be joyful news +wherewith to cheer my lord on his return," Head-nurse's irritation found +voice.</p> + +<p>"That is all very well," she cried. "So it would be to any +common father of any common child, Your Royal Highness! This one +is the Admired-of-the-Whole-World, the Source-of-Dignity, the +Most-Magnificent-Person-of-the-Period——"</p> + +<p>And she went on rolling out queer guttural Arabic titles till +Foster-mother implored her to be silent or she would frighten the child. +Could she not see the look on the darling's face?</p> + +<p>For Baby Akbar was indeed listening to something with his little finger +up to command attention. But it was not to Head-nurse's thunderings, but +to the first long, low growl of a coming storm that outside the +miserable tent was turning the distant hills to purple and darkening the +fast-fading daylight.</p> + +<p>"Frighten?" echoed Head-nurse in derision. "The son of Humâyon the +heroic, the grandson of Baber the brave could never be frightened at +anything!"</p> + +<p>And in truth the little lad was not a bit afraid, even<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> when a distant +flash of lightning glimmered through the dusk.</p> + +<p>"Heavens!" cried gentle Queen Humeeda, "his Majesty will be drenched to +the skin ere he returns." She was a brave woman, but the long, long +strain of daily, hourly danger was beginning to tell on her health, and +the knowledge that even this coming storm was against them brought the +tears to her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Nay! Nay! my royal mistress," fussed Head-nurse, who, in spite of her +love of pomp, was a kind-hearted, good woman, "this must not be on such +an auspicious day. It must be celebrated otherwise, and for all we are +so poor, we can yet have ceremonial. When the child was born were we not +in direst danger? Such danger that all his royal father could do in +honor of the glad event was to break a musk-bag before his faithful +followers as sign that the birth of an heir to empire would diffuse +itself like perfume through the whole world? Even so now, and if I +cannot devise some ceremony, then am I no Head-nurse!"</p> + +<p>So saying she began to bustle around, and ere long even poor, unhappy +Queen Humeeda began to take an interest in the proceedings.</p> + +<p>A mule trunk, after being ransacked for useful odds and ends, was put in +a corner and covered with a worn satin quilt. This must do for a throne. +And a strip of red muslin wound about the little gold-embroidered skull +cap Baby Akbar wore must, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> the heron's plume from his father's +state turban, make a monarch of the child.</p> + +<p>In truth he looked very dignified indeed, standing on the mule trunk, +his little legs very wide apart, his little crimson silk trousers very +baggy, his little green brocade waistcoat buttoned tight over his little +fat body, and, trailing from his shoulders in great stiff folds, his +father's state cloth-of-gold coatee embroidered with seed pearls.</p> + +<p>So, as he always wore great gold bracelets on his little fat arms, and +great gold jingling anklets fringing his little fat feet, he looked very +royal indeed. Very royal and large and calm, for he was a grave baby +with big, dark, piercing eyes and a decided chin.</p> + +<p>"He is as like his grandfather as two splits of a pea!" cried Head-nurse +in rapture, and then she went to the tent door and shrilled out:</p> + +<p>"Slaves! Quick! Come and perform your lowly salute on the occasion of +the cutting of a back tooth belonging to the Heir-to-Empire, the +Most——"</p> + +<p>She cut short her string of titles, for a crash of thunder overhead +warned her she had best be speedy before the rain soaked through the +worn tent.</p> + +<p>"Quick, slaves!" she added; "keep us not waiting all day. Enter and +prostrate yourselves on the ground with due reverence! Quick! Quick!"</p> + +<p>She need not have been in such a hurry, for it did not take long for the +"slaves," as she called them, to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> perform their lowly salaam by touching +the very ground with their foreheads. There were but three of them—Old +Faithful, the trooper; Roy, the Râjput boy; and Meroo, the scullion; the +rest were away with their master, King Humâyon.</p> + +<p>Old Faithful, however, tall, lank, grey-bearded, brought enough devotion +for half a dozen followers. He had served with little Akbar's +grandfather, Babar the brave, and when he saw the child standing so fair +and square, he gave almost a sharp cry of remembrance and delight. And +when he stood up after his prostration, in soldier fashion he held out +the hilt of his old sword for the baby to touch in token that its +service was accepted. Queen Humeeda, who stood beside her little son, +guided his fat fingers to the sword; but at the very moment a vivid +flash of lightning made her give a shriek and cover her face with her +hands. But little Prince Akbar having got a hold of the hilt, would not +let go. And to Old Faithful's huge delight he pulled and pulled till the +sword came out of the scabbard.</p> + +<p>"An omen! An omen!" cried the old man. "Like his grandfather, he will +fight battles ere he be twelve!"</p> + +<p>Then there was Roy, the Râjput lad, whom the royal fugitives had found +half dead from sunstroke in the wide, sandy Râjputana deserts, and whom, +with their customary kindness, they had succoured and befriended, +putting him on as a sort of page boy to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> the little Heir-to-Empire. He +was a tall, slim lad for his twelve years, was Roy, with a small, +well-set head and a keen, well-cut face. And his eyes! They were like a +deer's—large, brown, soft, but with a flash in them at times.</p> + +<p>For the sunstroke which had so nearly killed the lad had left his mind a +little confused. As yet he could remember nothing of what had happened +to him before it, and could not even recollect who he was, or anything +save that his name was Roy. But every now and again he would say +something or do something which would make those around him look +surprised, and wonder who he could have been to know such things and +have such manners.</p> + +<p>After him came Meroo, the misshapen cook-boy. He was an odd fellow, all +long limbs and broad smiles, who, when his time arrived, shambled +forward, cast himself in lowliest reverence full length on the ground +and blubbered out his delight—now that the princely baby could really +eat—at being able to supply all sorts of toothsome stews full of onions +and green ginger, to say nothing of watermelons and sugar cane. These +things, strange to say, being to little Indian children very much what +chocolate creams and toffee are to English ones.</p> + +<p>So far all had gone well, and now there only remained one more salute to +be made. But little Adam, who was Head-nurse's own son, and who had +hitherto<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> been Baby Akbar's playmate, refused absolutely to do as he was +bid. He was a short, sturdy boy of five, and nothing would induce him to +go down on his knees and touch the ground with his forehead. In vain +Meroo, the cook-boy, promised him sweets if he would only obey orders; +in vain Old Faithful spoke of a ride on his old war-horse, and Roy, who +was a most wonderful story-teller, promised him the best of all, +Bopuluchi. In vain his mother, losing patience at such a terrible piece +of indecorum, rushed at him and cuffed him soundly. He only howled and +kicked.</p> + +<p>And then suddenly Baby Akbar, who had been listening with a solemn face, +brought his little bare foot down on the mule trunk with such a stamp +that the golden anklets jingled and jangled, and his little forefinger +went up over his head in the real Eastern attitude of royal command.</p> + +<p>"Salute, slave, salute," he said with a tremendous dignity. And there +was something so comical about the little mite of a child, something so +masterful in the tiny figure, something so commanding in the loud, +deep-toned baby voice, that every one laughed, and somehow or other Adam +forgot his obstinacy and made his obeisance like a good boy.</p> + +<p>And then once more pretty Queen Humeeda hugged and kissed her little +son, and all the rest applauded him, and made so much of him that he +began<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> to think he had done something very fine indeed, and crowed and +clapped his hands in delight.</p> + +<p>But the merriment did not last long, for there was a clatter of horses +and swords outside the tent.</p> + +<p>"My husband!" cried Queen Humeeda in a flutter. "What news does my lord +bring?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h2>THE FIRST VICTORY</h2> + + +<p>The next moment a tall, handsome man entered the tent; but one look at +his pale, anxious face was enough to tell those inside that the news was +bad. So for an instant there was silence; and in the silence, with a +deafening roar and a blinding blaze of blue light, came a terrific crash +of thunder followed by a sudden fierce pelt of hail upon the taut tent +roof.</p> + +<p>It sent a shiver through the listeners. They felt that the storm had +broken indeed upon their heads, that danger was close beside them.</p> + +<p>Then the King stepped to his wife's side and took her hand, and as he +spoke there was a sob in his breath as of an animal who after a long +chase finds himself at last driven to bay.</p> + +<p>"Come!" he said briefly, "there may yet be a chance for us. My horse, +weary though it be, will suffice for thy light weight. In the mountains +lies possible safety. Come! There is not a moment to lose."</p> + +<p>"But—but the child—" faltered the Queen.</p> + +<p>King Humâyon's voice failed him. He could not speak for a moment; but he +shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I will not leave the child—" began the wretched mother. "My lord! thou +canst not have the heart——"</p> + +<p>"It is his only chance—" interrupted the poor King,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> his face full of +grief and anger, of bitter, bitter regret—"His only chance of life! In +the mountains yonder, with winter snow upon us, lies certain death for +one so young. Were we to stay with him here, he would find death with +us—for my brother Askurry is close behind us. But if we are gone, God +knows, but he might spare the child. Askurry is not all unkind, and the +little lad favors my father so much that his blessed memory may be +safeguard. God send it so. It is his best chance, his only chance. So +come——"</p> + +<p>"I cannot! I cannot!" moaned the poor mother distractedly.</p> + +<p>"There is no other way, sweetheart!" said the King, "so be brave, little +mother, and come for thy son's sake. He will be safer here than with +thee. Come! trusting in God's mercy for the child. And come quickly +while the darkness of the storm shrouds our going."</p> + +<p>Then he looked round on those others—Head-nurse, Wet-nurse, Old +Faithful, Roy the Râjput, and Meroo the cook-boy—not much of a +bodyguard for the young prince, and yet, since force would be useless, +perhaps as good as any other, if they had a head between them. But the +nurses were women, Faithful nothing but an old soldier, and the two +others were mere boys. Some one else must be left. Who? Then he +remembered Foster-father, Foster-mother's hus<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>band. He was the man. +Solid, sober, clear-headed. So, as Queen Humeeda was being hurriedly +wrapped in a shawl by the two weeping nurses, he gave them a few +directions. They were to stay where they were, no matter what happened, +until Foster-father returned from showing the fugitives a path he knew +to the mountains, and then——</p> + +<p>King Humâyon could say no more. Only as, after a hurried, tearless, +hopeless farewell to his little son, he paused at the tent door to take +a last look, his half-fainting wife in his arms, he said suddenly in a +sharp, loud voice:</p> + +<p>"Remember! In your charge lies the safety of the Heir-to-Empire."</p> + +<p>The words sank into the very hearts of those who stood watching the +group of hurrying figures making its way rapidly toward the hills.</p> + +<p>"Pray Heaven," muttered Old Faithful anxiously, "that they be over the +rise before those who follow see them."</p> + +<p>So they stood fearfully watching, watching. And Heaven was kind, for +though one great blue blaze of lightning showed the fugitives clear +against the sky line, when the next came there was nothing but the +rugged rocks.</p> + +<p>Then for the first time Baby Akbar, who had been silent in his nurses' +arms, watching with the rest, lifted up his deep-toned baby voice:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Daddy, Amma," he said contentedly, "gone up in a 'ky."</p> + +<p>Whereupon Foster-mother wept loudly and prayed that good angels might +protect her darling.</p> + +<p>But Head-nurse was more practical, and set about considering how best +that safety might be secured. Who was there who could help? No one of +much use, truly, though every one was brimful of devotion and ready to +give his or her life for the Heir-to-Empire.</p> + +<p>"I will kill the first man who dares—" began Old Faithful.</p> + +<p>"Aye! The first! But how about the last, old man?" interrupted +Head-nurse. "Force will be of no avail. Askurry hath half an army with +him."</p> + +<p>"Harm shall only come to the child through my body," wept Foster-mother, +whereat Head-nurse laughed scornfully.</p> + +<p>"Woman's flesh is a poor shield, fool! God send we find better +protection than thy carcass."</p> + +<p>"Boo! hoo!" blubbered Meroo the cook-boy. "Lo! Head-nurse! I could kill +a whole army by poisoning their suppers."</p> + +<p>Head-nurse nodded faint approval. "Now, there is some sense in that, +scullion, but what about that they may do supperless? If they should +dare——"</p> + +<p>"They will not dare," said a clear, sharp voice, and Roy the Râjput lad +stepped forward, a light in his great eyes. "My mother used to say, +'Fear not! A<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> king's son is a king's son always, so be that he forgets +not kingship.'"</p> + +<p>Head-nurse stood puzzled for a second, then she caught the meaning of +the lad's words, for she was a clever, capable woman, and had all a +woman's quickness.</p> + +<p>"Thou art right, my lad," she said slowly, looking curiously at Roy, +from whose face the flash of memory seemed to have passed. "Thou art +right. In royalty lies safety. The Heir-to-Empire must receive his +enemies as a King! Quick! slaves! Close the tent door and let us bring +forth all we have, and make all things as regal as we can. There is no +time to lose."</p> + +<p>And they did not lose any. The result being that when, quarter of an +hour afterward, Prince Askurry, bitterly disappointed at finding that +his real quarry, the King and Queen, had escaped, strode with some of +his followers into the tent where he was told Baby Akbar was to be +found, he paused at the door, first in astonishment and then in +amusement.</p> + +<p><a name="illus002"></a></p> +<p class="figcenter"><img src="./images/illus002.jpg" +alt="Prince Askurry ... strode ... into the tent." +title="Prince Askurry ... strode ... into the tent." /></p> + +<p class="figcenter caption"><i>Prince Askurry ... strode ... into the tent.</i></p> + +<p>It was really rather a pretty picture which he saw. To begin with the +tent had been lit up with the little rushlight lamps they call in India +<i>chiraghs</i>—tiny saucers which can be made of mud in which a cotton wick +floats in a few drops of oil—and a row of these outlined the mule trunk +throne. Then Meroo's misshapen limbs had been hidden under a chain +corselet and helmet, so he made quite a respectable fellow to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> Old +Faithful, as the two supporters stood bolt upright with drawn swords one +on either side, while beneath them, on the ragged old Persian carpet +which had been spread to hide the dirty tent drugget, crouched +Head-nurse and Foster-mother, their faces veiled with their best gold +embroidered veils.</p> + +<p>A great pile of cushions had been placed on the muletrunk, and in the +centre of these sat Baby Akbar, the Royal heron's plume of his turban +waving gently in the breeze caused by the slow dignified sweep of the +Royal fan which Roy, who stood behind his young master, was swinging +backwards and forwards.</p> + +<p>But it was not the prettiness of the picture which made Prince Askurry +pause. It was the child's open fearless face which reminded him at +once—as King Humâyon had hoped it might—of that dear, beloved father +whose memory, even in their worst wickednesses, was ever a good +influence in the lives of his sons. Babar the Brave! Babar of the +Generous Heart! the Kindly Smile! Who could forget him?</p> + +<p>But behind Prince Askurry were others who did not remember; who were +eager to kill and have done with Humâyon and his son for ever.</p> + +<p>And when they saw Prince Askurry pause, they were quick with advice.</p> + +<p>"It is unwise to spare snakes' spawn," said one.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The boy is father to the man," said another. "He who is wise kills +young rats as well as old ones."</p> + +<p>And still Prince Askurry paused while poor Head-nurse and Wet-nurse went +sick with fear under their veils at what might be going to happen, and +Old Faithful's hand clasped the hilt of his sword tighter, since come +what may he meant to strike one blow for his young master. But Roy's +keen eyes showed—as the peacock's feather fan swept past them backwards +and forwards—like a hawk's as it hovers above a partridge. There was in +them a defiance, a certainty that victory must come.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a wicked laugh filled the tent. "Peace! brothers," said a +sneering voice, "Prince Askurry prefers to leave the snake to fight with +his own son in the future."</p> + +<p>The taunt told. It was true! Better to scotch the snake now, than to +leave it to be dangerous by and by; dangerous perhaps to his own little +son who was but a few years older than Baby Akbar.</p> + +<p>Prince Askurry strode forward drawn sword in hand; but whether he really +meant to use it or not cannot be told, for a very strange thing +happened. Baby Akbar had been listening to the fierce voices just as he +had listened to the angry voices when Adam had refused to salute. And +now he saw some one before him who appeared to have no intention—as +Adam had no intention—of making his reverence; so,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> remembering the +fine thing he had done when the latter had been naughty, up went the +little hand again, and once more the loud, deep, baby voice said +imperiously:</p> + +<p>"Salute! Slave! salute!"</p> + +<p>The words were barely uttered when by pure chance Prince Askurry's foot +caught in the ragged carpet, and——?</p> + +<p>And down he came flat as a pancake on the floor in the very lowliest +salute that ever was made!</p> + +<p>The next moment, however, he sat up, half-stunned, and looked wrathfully +at his little nephew.</p> + +<p>But Baby Akbar's honest open face was full of grieved sympathy.</p> + +<p>"Poor, poor!" he said, shaking his quaintly crowned head, "tumbu down. +Nanna kiss it, make it well."</p> + +<p>Prince Askurry sat stupidly staring for a moment or two. Then the memory +of many a childish hurt cured by like gracious offer from his father +came back to him, making his heart soft. He sprang to his feet and waved +by his councillors to cruelty.</p> + +<p>"Go, my lords!" he cried fiercely. "Go seek the King who is no true King +if ye will, and kill him. But this boy goes with me to Kandahâr; the +stuff of which he is made counts for life, not for death."</p> + +<p>Then with a sudden generous impulse, for he was at heart his father's +son, he held the hilt of his drawn sword in token of vassalage for Baby +Akbar to touch.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> + +<p>And the child, clever, observant beyond his years, remembering how his +mother had guided his fingers to Old Faithful's weapon, put out his +little hand solemnly and touched it.</p> + +<p>Behind their close-folded veils Head-nurse and Wet-nurse wept for joy. +And the old trooper's grip relaxed and the hard relentless look faded +from Roy's face.</p> + +<p>For here was safety, for a while at any rate, for the Heir-to-Empire.</p> + +<p>He, and Fate between them, had won his first victory. No! his second, +since the first had been the conquering of Adam's obstinacy.</p> + +<p>But for that Baby Akbar might not have behaved with such dignity.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h2>THE ROYAL UMBRELLA</h2> + + +<p>That night even Roy the Râjput, who as a rule woke every hour to see to +his little master's safety, slept sound. And so did the others, though +they sat up till Foster-father crept in to the tent about midnight, +after having seen the Royal Fugitives safely over the Persian border. Of +course, there was nothing but miles on miles of snowy mountains before +them, nothing but long struggle and privation to be hoped for; still +they were out of India, out of an enemy's country. For which Heaven be +thanked!</p> + +<p>So they wrapped themselves in their quilts and lay down to rest with +hearts eased for the time of immediate anxiety.</p> + +<p>Head-nurse, however, began at once, after her wont, to make plans for +resuming some of the courtly ways which hurry had made impossible. The +gold embroidered royal red umbrella was one thing she was determined to +have.</p> + +<p>But who was to hold it over the Royal Infant? Roy would get tired of it +during a long march. He was but a boy; and after all there should be a +Deputy, Assistant, Second, Umbrella Bearer to Majesty.</p> + +<p>Could Meroo, properly dressed, of course, be promoted to the position?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> + +<p>She actually woke Foster-father from his well-earned first sleep to +propound this knotty question.</p> + +<p>"Good woman," he murmured patiently, "make what court appointments ye +will. Create the scullion Prime Minister, so I have my sleep."</p> + +<p>And he was snoring almost before the words were out of his mouth.</p> + +<p>So next morning Head-nurse, refusing the baggage camel with panniers +which Prince Askurry sent for the use of the little Heir-to-Empire, +organised a procession of her own.</p> + +<p>First of all came Foster-father, stout and solid, on his skew-bald hill +pony which was called Horse-chestnut because it was patched all over, +like an unripe chestnut, with yellow, brown and white.</p> + +<p>It had a lovely tail that touched the ground, and a coat that was long +and wavy like an Irish setter's. A wise, sober pony was Horse-chestnut; +he never attempted to climb up anything he thought too difficult, but +just gave a look at it to make sure and then put down his head calmly, +and began to graze until his rider found an easier path.</p> + +<p>Next came Trooper Faithful on his old white charger Lightning. Once upon +a time it had been like its name, swift exceedingly, but now, like its +master, it was slow and stiff.</p> + +<p>Then followed Head-nurse, astride, in Indian fashion, the bay Belooch +mare which had been Queen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> Humeeda's favourite mount until it had had to +be left behind in one of the hasty moves which had of late been so +common in the hunted life of the Royal Fugitives. The mare, of course, +had been taken by the pursuers, and brought along with them; and the +groom in charge of it had come grinning with delight to Foster-father +when he found himself in the same camp again. Foster-father was for +riding the bay mare himself and giving sober Horse-chestnut to the +Heir-to-Empire, but Head-nurse would not hear of this. The bay mare was, +she said, altogether more royal. So there she was, with Baby Akbar +astride a cushion in front, perched on the skittish creature, feeling at +heart very nervous, for she was but a poor rider. However, she held on +very tight with one hand, held Baby Akbar still tighter with the other, +and trusted to Providence, while Roy and Meroo ran beside her on either +side, alternately holding up the Royal Umbrella as best they could.</p> + +<p>Foster-mother on a mule, with little Adam perched in front of her +brought up the rear of the procession. It was a poor one for progress +even along the levels, because of the bay mare's fidgeting and +caperings, but when the steep hill sides were reached it became +impossible to keep up with the rest of the equipage. So Prince Askurry +and his men pushed on ahead leaving the little party alone, since escape +was impossible on that wild mountain road, especially with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> the rear +guard of the camp coming a few miles behind them. And, indeed, if such +an idea had entered the heads of any of the party it must soon have fled +before the difficulty of getting along at all. It was a steep zig-zag +path, and looking upwards you could see it zigging and zagging right +away to the sky line. Poor Foster-mother, who came last, could not take +her eyes off it, for the bends immediately above her were filled with +the most terrifying sights. First her stout husband, who seemed to be in +the act of slipping over Horse-chestnut's tail. On the next Old +Faithful, driven to dismounting and laboriously lugging Lightning up by +the bridle. But the last zig-zag in front of her called forth piercing +shrieks. For the bay mare, not having been ridden for some time, was +full of beans. Baby Akbar insisted on holding the reins, and Meroo, +whose turn it was to hold the umbrella, <i>would</i> slip and slither among +the stones, thereby bringing its fringe right on the bay mare's nose.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Head-nurse, have a care! The blessed child!" shrieked poor +Foster-mother as a more than usually bad stumble sent the umbrella on to +the mare's tail.</p> + +<p>This was too much for it. Frightened out of its senses, it gave a +frenzied bound forwards, then rearing straight up, hung over the edge of +the path, as if it meant to take a downward plunge.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> + +<p>All seemed lost! Foster-father and Faithful stood petrified with +despair. Meroo would have dashed forward to catch at the rein but Roy, +knowing with that curious instinct of his, that that would only make +matters worse, as it would still further frighten the mare, held him +back by main force. The only person who was not spellbound with fear was +Baby Akbar. He thought it a fine joke that his mount should stand up on +its hind legs and paw the air. So he shrieked with delight, and dropped +the reins to clap his hands, as he always did when he was pleased. Now +this was the very best thing he, or anybody else, could have done. The +mare, feeling herself free, thought better of it, and wheeling round +dropped her fore feet on the path once more.</p> + +<p>Foster-father's loud Arabic thanksgiving ended in an equally loud order. +"Get off the mare, woman. Horse-chestnut is the only mount thou art fit +for. Roy! carry that foolish umbrella behind."</p> + +<p>"In front—the emblems are ever carried in front," protested Head-nurse +feebly.</p> + +<p>"I said behind," was all the answer she got, and behind it went while +they toiled up and up.</p> + +<p>After a while the road became surprisingly bad; nothing in fact but a +watercourse, and Foster-father began to doubt if they could be on the +right way. Possibly, when they were all excited over the mare's bad +behaviour, they had taken a wrong turning. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> as the path led ever +upwards, he judged it better to go on, though it was terribly hard work. +Every moment the road became worse and worse until it ceased to be more +than a mere ladder of rocks which puzzled even Horse-chestnut. More than +once he stopped dead and would no doubt have refused any further attempt +to climb had there been anything at which to graze. But there was +nothing; nothing but rocks. So, after a pause he made the best of a bad +bargain, raised himself on his hind legs, sought a foothold for his fore +feet in some crevice, and then scrambled up. Only the two children +enjoyed themselves, Baby Akbar laughing with delight and clapping his +hands over all the slips and slitherings which even nimble +Horse-chestnut made, and which reduced Head-nurse and Wet-nurse to +piteous wails to Roy not for Heaven's sake to let go of the +Heir-to-Empire's baggy trousers. And Adam enjoyed himself, also, running +on in front and making snowballs in the drifts which, ere long, were to +be seen sheltering from the sun in the clefts of the rocks.</p> + +<p>The sight of them made Foster-father frown. "We go too high," he said. +"Heaven send we have not to climb to a higher pass."</p> + +<p>His remark made Head-nurse give way altogether. She wept loudly, saying +in that case she had better stay and die where she was, thus saving them +the trouble of carrying her down the hill.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> + +<p>At that very moment, however, Adam who had run far ahead began waving +his arms and shouting:</p> + +<p>"He says 'The top! the top!'" cried Roy, who was keen in hearing as in +everything else. "Courage, mother! our troubles are over!"</p> + +<p>They had not <i>quite</i> ended, but in a few minutes more they had reached +the beginning of the pass proper. Before them lay a grassy boggy slope +curling gently upwards between higher rockier slopes. A little stream +plashed softly adown it, through a perfect wilderness of flowers, and +without one word the tired travellers threw themselves beside it for +rest and refreshment.</p> + +<p>But Baby Akbar looked a little troubled.</p> + +<p>"Amma, Dadda 'way 'way in a 'ky," he said solemnly, and essayed to crawl +on over the grass. For he could not walk yet, though he spoke so well. +They say he began to talk when he was nine months old.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h2>TUMBU-DOWN</h2> + + +<p>After a while the party started on their way once more feeling greatly +brisked up. But the heat of the day was now upon them, and though the +snow lay close beside the path, the fierce sun melting it made the +vapour rise and turned the narrow valley into a regular steam bath.</p> + +<p>The perspiration ran down the travellers' faces and especially down poor +Head-nurse's; for she had insisted on taking off her veil to twist it +turbanwise round Baby Akbar's head since the Royal Umbrella was +forbidden. Foster-mother had tried to take off hers also, but Head-nurse +had angrily forbidden her to do any such thing. If she, Head-nurse, died +of sunstroke what matter, but if Foster-mother failed, what—even though +one back tooth had been gloriously cut—would become of the +Heir-to-Empire, the Admired-of-the-World, the Great-in-Pomp, etc.?</p> + +<p>So, to comfort herself she went on mumbling titles as she struggled +along, the sun beating fiercely on her bare head. Such a quaint head, +with sleek black hair parted and plaited and hung with jewels, even down +the long pigtail of brown wool that was added on to the back to make the +hair look more plentiful.</p> + +<p>It was a piteous sight and Foster-mother was so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> conscious of the +devotion it meant that she said "Lo! Head-nurse, thou art a good, good +soul though a hard one to me; but I will never, never, never, forget +this day."</p> + +<p>"Nor I," groaned Head-nurse, "but 'tis for the Heir-to-Empire."</p> + +<p>It was a full hour before the slope ended in a level bog, on the other +side of which began a visible descent. Then in the angled hills a blue +shadow began to rise, telling of a valley below them.</p> + +<p>"Bismillah!" (Thanks be to God) cried Foster-father piously. And every +one echoed the remark except Baby Akbar. He turned round and looked back +at the snowy peaks which were beginning to show behind them.</p> + +<p>"Amma, Dadda 'way 'way mountains," he said regretfully and his little +mouth went down as for a cry, when everybody's attention was distracted +by the sudden appearance of a huge furry black dog which came bounding +down the hill side, its big white teeth gleaming as it uttered shrill, +sharp, growling barks.</p> + +<p>Head-nurse and Foster-mother shrieked with fright, little Adam ran like +a hare for the shelter of his mother's petticoats, and Meroo the +cook-boy, remembering his bare legs—for like all Indian scullions he +wore short cotton drawers—squatted down where he was standing, in order +to protect them. Even Roy, brave boy that he was, looked uncomfortable, +and both<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> Foster-father and Old Faithful whipped out their swords.</p> + +<p>These were not needed, however, for the next instant a wild-looking +figure clad in a brown blanket started up from behind a rock and shouted +to the dog. It stopped instantly, but stood still—snarling, though +obedient.</p> + +<p>It was the funniest looking dog you can imagine. Bigger than a big +collie, it was furry all over even to its tail. And it was black as ink. +In fact with its tiny prick ears and small sharp pointed muzzle all lost +in a huge soft black ruff and nothing to be seen but red tongue, white +teeth and beady black eyes, it was a regular golliwog of a dog.</p> + +<p>When Foster-father saw the man in the brown blanket, who from his crook +was evidently a shepherd, he heaved a sigh of relief. "Now," he said, +"we shall be able to find out our way."</p> + +<p>But he was mistaken. The man did not understand a word they said, +neither could they understand a word he said.</p> + +<p>Head-nurse was in despair. "He speaks like a ghost of the desert," she +wept. "We shall all die of starvation before he understands."</p> + +<p>"Die?" echoed Foster-father stoutly. "Not so, woman! There is one +language all understand."</p> + +<p>Whereupon he placed himself right in front of the shepherd, opened his +mouth wide and then shook his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> head. Next he pointed to his stomach and +shook his head again. Finally he began to chew violently, rubbed his +stomach and grinned.</p> + +<p>The shepherd grinned too and rubbed <i>his</i> stomach, whereupon +Foster-father turned triumphantly to Head-nurse.</p> + +<p>"Said I not sooth, woman," he asked. "Hunger hath a tongue of its own, +and all men know it."</p> + +<p>Once begun, signs soon brought so much understanding, that, whistling to +his dog, the shepherd started down the hill at a great pace, beckoning +them to follow.</p> + +<p>"Not so fast, friend, not so fast!" panted Foster-father, "we be not all +born on a mountain as thou art. And there are women and children, too." +He pointed to poor Head-nurse and Foster-mother, who were indeed +dropping with fatigue, and the man seemed to understand, for he pulled +up. But he had to keep some way off because his dog, who kept close as a +shadow to his master's heels, never ceased growling. So they tramped on +wearily until just below them they saw a <i>marg</i> or mountain upland, +where some goats were grazing. One part of this dipped down into a +little valley, and there, in the shelter of some huge rocks, they saw +two or three small brown blanket tents, such as shepherds use on the +Beluchistan hills. They were just like waggon tilts only not so large.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p> + +<p>Here, at any rate, was prospect of food and rest, and the poor +travellers brisked up again. But alas! between them and the tents lay a +formidable obstacle. Nothing less than a birch-twig bridge over a +rushing stream which filled up the bottom of a wide rift or chasm in the +upland. This chasm stretched right across the upland from a steep rock +which blocked up the head of the little valley, and out of which the +stream gushed, and there was no way of crossing it, so the shepherd +explained by signs, except the birch-twig bridge. Now a birch-twig +bridge is a very terrifying thing to anybody who is not accustomed to +them. It is simply a strong flat plait of birch twigs about nine inches +wide which is flung from one side to the other, and which, of course, +droops and sags like a rope in the middle. Into this plait are stuck +every few feet or so cross sticks, and to these sticks a rope is +fastened as a sort of hand rail. Across such a bridge as this the hill +children walk as easily as an English child does over a great brick +span; but Head-nurse resolutely refused to set foot over it herself, +much less to allow the Heir-to-Empire to risk his neck on such an +appallingly dangerous structure. In vain Foster-father, in order to set +a good example, allowed himself to be led over by the shepherd with his +eyes carefully bandaged lest he should get giddy in the middle by +looking down. As a matter of fact, this only made Head-nurse more +frightened, for, of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> course, the bridge swung and swayed with the weight +of the men on it. She would sooner, she declared, try to climb Heaven on +a rainbow! That was at least steady. Roy tried to hearten her up by +walking over himself with open eyes, though he felt frightfully dizzy +and had to fling himself flat on the grass to recover when he did get +over. Then Meroo, blubbering loudly that he was going to his death for +his young master, climbed up on the shepherd's back and allowed himself +to be carried over just to show how easy it was.</p> + +<p>It was all in vain! Head-nurse was firm. They must bring the tents to +the Heir-to-Empire; the Heir-to-Empire should not go across a tight rope +to the tents. And there she would have remained had not a great, tall +burly woman with a fat baby on her hip come out of one of the tents, and +grasping the position, stalked over the bridge without even touching the +hand rail, caught Baby Akbar from Foster-mother, who was too taken aback +to resist, set him on her other hip and calmly stalked back again, +leaving the two women too surprised and horrified even to scream.</p> + +<p>But when they saw the Heir-to-Empire safe on the other side, they +consented to be carried across pick-a-back.</p> + +<p>So there they were before long eating goats' milk<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> cheese fried like a +beefsteak and drinking long draughts of a sort of sour milk.</p> + +<p>One of the shepherds could speak a little Persian, and from him +Foster-father, to his great relief, learned that Prince Askurry's camp +was only a mile or two down the valley, so, feeling certain of being +able to reach it before sundown, he called a halt, and they all lay down +to rest in one of the tents, Baby Akbar between his two nurses for +safety sake. For one could never tell, Head-nurse remarked, what might +happen amongst people who spoke the language of ghosts in the desert, +and kept such strange animals. A great golliwog of a black dog who sat +on one side of the tent like an image, watching them as if he meant to +eat them, and a great fluff of a white cat sitting on the other with her +eyes shut as if she did not want to watch them.</p> + +<p>No! Indeed it was impossible to tell what might not happen!</p> + +<p>And that is exactly how it turned out. What <i>really</i> did happen no one +knew. It was Foster-mother who, waking first, let loose a shriek while +still half awake. This roused Head-nurse, who let loose another. For +Baby Akbar was no longer between them. The Heir-to-Empire had gone—had +disappeared—was not to be found!</p> + +<p>Roy was out of the tent in a second, treading in his haste on Meroo, who +was sleeping outside, and who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> began to howl confusedly. Old Faithful +fumbled for his sword, Foster-father rubbed his eyes as if <i>they</i> must +be at fault.</p> + +<p>But there was no Baby! And what is more, both the black dog and the +white cat had disappeared also; at least they were no longer on the +watch.</p> + +<p>Never was there such a commotion. The rocks resounded with cries and +every one searched everywhere; even in the great tall basket panniers in +which hill shepherds carry their goods and chattels.</p> + +<p>But not one sign of the little fellow was to be found, until—horribly, +dreadfully, near to that awful birch-twig bridge—Foster-mother seized +on a tiny gold-embroidered skull cap that was lying on the grass.</p> + +<p>"It is his!" she sobbed, "it is my darling's! He hath tried to get to +the mountains to his Amma, and he hath fallen from that accursed cats' +cradle. He is dead! He is killed!"</p> + +<p>Every face, except the shepherds', who did not, of course, understand +what was said, turned pale. It was indeed possible, perhaps probable, +that the faithful little soul, who remembered when others forgot, had +tried——</p> + +<p>It was a terrible thought. But the shepherds, seeing the cap, at once +whistled to their dog, and the one who spoke Persian explained that if +it were shown the cap it would take up the track of the child at once.</p> + +<p>But though they whistled and whistled no dog came.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then the shepherds began to look grave and mutter among themselves.</p> + +<p>"What are they saying? What gibberish are they talking?" shrilled poor +Head-nurse, trying to keep hope alive by being angry. The man who spoke +Persian looked at her cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"Only that perhaps the dog has eaten the child. We keep it hungry that +it may chase the wild animals."</p> + +<p>This was too much for the womankind. They simply rent the air with +heartbroken sobs.</p> + +<p>But Foster-father, grave and silent, would not give up hope. Every foot +of the ravine must be searched, first downwards, as, had the child +really fallen into the stream it must have been carried with it. Then as +a last forlorn hope upwards. So, peering down carefully from either +side, they traced the ravine till, gradually becoming shallower, less +steep, it merged into the grassy valley. But there was no sign. Then +sadly they commenced their upward search, until they were close to the +high cliff whence the stream gushed out. Here they found that the ravine +was wider, and at the bottom of it a patch of sand and boulders showed +that there was foothold beside the roaring torrent.</p> + +<p>"I will climb down and see if there is aught," said Roy; "it is easier +here—if he had fallen here, he might—" the tears in his voice +prevented more, as he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> tucked up his garments preparatory to the +difficult descent.</p> + +<p>But the shepherds raised an urgent outcry. There was a demon in the +cavern, they said, whence the water came. There was no use angering it, +no use in losing another life.</p> + +<p>Roy struggled madly in their detaining hands, but Old Faithful and +Foster-father looked at each other. Whether there was a demon or not it +was a risk to another life and that should not be a young one.</p> + +<p>"No, boy!" said the old warrior stoutly. "This is my task, not thine. I +am good swordsman to begin with, and demons—if there be any—like not a +clean sword thrust. Also I have been pilgrim to Holy Mecca and +demons—if there be any—like not pilgrims' flesh."</p> + +<p>So, muttering prayers and holding his drawn sword in his teeth, since +both hands were needed for the parlous descent, he commenced his task +while the others watched him eagerly.</p> + +<p>About half way down he paused, looked up and called back; but they could +not hear what he said.</p> + +<p>"Take thy sword out of thy mouth, man," shrieked Head-nurse almost +beside herself with grief and rage; "it isn't manners to speak with the +mouth full."</p> + +<p>True enough, but Old Faithful had some difficulty in obeying orders. +However, he managed to steady himself for a moment on his two feet; so +sword in hand he bawled back.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Tis true! There <i>is</i> a demon. It growls. I hear it plainly. Farewell! +I go on, secure in my sword and Holy——"</p> + +<p>Here a foot slipped and he went sliding, slithering, slipping down to +the bottom where, happily only bruised, he sat half-stunned staring in +front of him.</p> + +<p>And then there echoed up to the listeners the most terrible barking, and +yelping, and growling, and spitting, that ever was heard!</p> + +<p>"The demon! The demon!" yelled the shepherds in terror, and ran for +their lives.</p> + +<p>But Roy, ear over the cliff, listened for a second, and the next had +followed Old Faithful. Foster-father was not long behind him, and Meroo +was close on his heels. Foster-mother and Head-nurse were not to be left +out, and somehow they all managed to get down in safety.</p> + +<p>And then they all stood and sat silent and agape with surprise and +delight.</p> + +<p>For what they saw was this. A low cavern in the rock, and on a shelving +bank of dry sand Baby Akbar sitting up and rubbing his eyes, while on +one side of him was the golliwog of a black dog, his fur all bristling, +his white teeth gleaming as he filled the air with furious barks; while +on the other was the white fluff of a cat, her back arched, her tail the +size of two, spitting and growling fiercely.</p> + +<p>How had he got there? Foster-father looked at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> Foster-mother, Head-nurse +looked at Old Faithful, and Roy looked at Meroo, and they all looked at +each other.</p> + +<p>But Baby Akbar only put out one fat hand towards the black dog and said +"Tumbu," and the other fat hand towards the cat and said "Down," and +that was all he would say.</p> + +<p>He had tumbled down; but how, when, and where, and how the dog and the +cat came to be with him no one ever knew from that day to this.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h2>ON THE ROAD</h2> + + +<p>Naturally when, after an uneventful journey with the shepherd as guide, +they reached Prince Askurry's camp that evening, they came to talk over +the incident. Foster-father was not sparing of Head-nurse. The whole +tissue of misfortunes, which had ended in Baby Akbar so nearly losing +his life—and that he had been spared was simply a miracle—arose from +her insisting on a Royal Procession. But for that, both she and the +child would have gone comfortably on a camel. They would have kept up +with the other baggage animals and none of the distressful events would +have happened. It should not, however, happen again. Of course, +Head-nurse tried to brazen it out and assert that the Heir-to-Empire +could always count on a miracle in his favour; but in her +heart-of-hearts she knew that Foster-father was right.</p> + +<p>So next morning she said nothing when she saw a camel with two panniers +kneeling in front of the tent, ready for its load. <i>That</i> had to be +endured, but she revenged herself by objecting to the black dog and the +white cat, who sat expectantly one on either side, evidently prepared +for a start.</p> + +<p>"Whose are those uncouth beasts?" she asked of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> Roy angrily. "Did I not +tell those ghosts of the desert who call themselves shepherds to remove +them last night? Why have they come back? Take them away! Catch them! +Tie them up! Such mean born animals have no right to attend the +Mighty-in-Pomp, the Lord-of-Light," etc., etc.</p> + +<p>She rolled out the titles sonorously, determined that if she was docked +of dignity in one way she would have it in another.</p> + +<p>Now it was not very hard to catch the big black golliwog of a dog, even +though he did snarl and snap and try to bite. There were a lot of camp +followers who were only too glad to have the amusement of capturing him, +so, after a very short space poor "Tumbu," for Baby Akbar insisted on +calling him so, was being dragged off at the end of a long rope to his +masters the shepherds, looking very sad, with his tail between his legs.</p> + +<p>But it was quite different with "Down," the cat. She had made up her +mind to stay where she was, and it is very hard, indeed, to make a cat +change its mind when it is once made up.</p> + +<p>So she moved about gently, from one place to the other, purring softly +and looking as mild as milk, her blue eye—for real Persian cats often +have their eyes of different colours and one of them is always +blue—ever so friendly, as if she were just longing to be picked up. +Only the very tip of her bushy tail swayed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> a little, and that is a sure +sign that a cat is contrary. And contrary Down was. The very instant any +one tried to pick her up—why! she was somewhere else!</p> + +<p>Head-nurse ere long joined in the chase, saying all the rest didn't +understand cats. But she soon lost patience and declaring that she had +never been done by a dumb animal yet, started capture by force. A circle +was formed round the point where Down sat blinking in the sunlight, and +shawls and veils were held up to make it complete. Then step by step +they advanced towards the cat, who, in truth, viewed the enclosing wall +with polite indifference. It was really rather a funny sight to see +stout Head-nurse without her veil tip-toeing in line towards pussy and +shrilling out her orders to the others to close in and be sure to leave +no loopholes. Step by step her voice became more and more triumphant, +and it really seemed as if the cat <i>must</i> be caught this time, for Down +sat sweetly purring until she was actually hidden from sight behind the +high-held screening cloths.</p> + +<p>"Now then! quick!" shrilled Head-nurse. "Close in—close——"</p> + +<p>But her order ended in a scream of fright, for there was pussy in one +flying leap on her bare head, scrabbling up her scanty hair, and with +another away up the hillside leaving nothing but claw-marks behind her!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> + +<p>Head-nurse wept with angry tears; but Foster-father, always sensible, +said "Enough! cry on the camel if you will, but now is the time to slip +away before the obstinate animal can return."</p> + +<p>There was wisdom in this; therefore Head-nurse composed herself +comfortably in one pannier while Foster-mother, who was lighter, settled +into the other with Baby Akbar. So off they set at the dignified lollop +which camels affect, and Head-nurse began to congratulate herself on +having successfully evaded the "uncouth beasts."</p> + +<p>But there is no counting on cats. If they are here one moment and gone +the next, they are also gone one moment and here the next. So, as the +camel was passing under a thorn tree about half a mile out from camp, a +great fluff of white hair sprang from the branches and landed right in +Head-nurse's broad lap. And there was Mistress Down looking as if butter +wouldn't melt in her mouth, and purring away like a kettle on the boil.</p> + +<p>Head-nurse gave in <i>altogether</i> then. "When a cat really makes up its +mind," she said with forced wisdom, "it is little use any one else +making up theirs!"</p> + +<p>So pussy sat in her lap, and after a while the warmth of the pretty +creature and even the very roughness of the small three-cornered red +tongue that licked her hand, as half-unconsciously she began to stroke +the long soft fur, made her say suddenly:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Who knows but it is the Will of the Creator! This mean-born +thing may in the future be of use to the Light-of-the-World, the +Observed-of-all-Observers," etc., etc., etc.</p> + +<p>And her words were to come true, for, as you will see by and bye, Down +was of great use to her little master. Nevertheless when, at the very +next camping ground, a great big black golliwog of a dog with a gnawed +end of rope still round his neck was seen calmly awaiting them at the +door of the tent that was pitched for their reception, Head-nurse became +tearful again and said that if Providence intended to send all the wild +beasts of the field to look after Baby Akbar, there was no need for her; +so she would give up her place.</p> + +<p>But the little Prince himself was delighted. He plumped down on the hot +sand beside the dog and hugged it, calling it "Dear Tumbu," and when the +white cat jealously rubbed her back against his little fat person he +hugged her too and called her "Darling Down."</p> + +<p>"Hark to the Lord-of-the-Universe giving his creatures names!" said +Foster-mother piously. So after that everybody called the golliwog dog +Tumbu, and the fluffy cat Down.</p> + +<p>This was the beginning of a whole week on camel back; a very pleasant +week too, though the minds of the elders were rather on the stretch<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +concerning the fate of King Humâyon and Queen Humeeda.</p> + +<p>Still the sky was as blue as blue could be, the sun shone bright and the +air was crisp with coming winter. Head-nurse spent most of her days +dozing and mumbling long strings of titles in one pannier, while Down +slept and purred on her lap. In the other pannier were Foster-mother and +Baby Akbar. The little fellow did not sleep much, but spent most of his +time craning over the pannier side to see everything there was to be +seen. But what amused him most was to watch Tumbu, who would look up and +bark and gambol for hours to attract his little master's attention. +Whereat Down would become impatient and come over the camel's hump from +the other pannier, rub her back against the little Prince and watch, +too, with a sort of dignified contempt. It was the way of dogs to be +loud and effusive, and gushing; but it didn't mean much. Tumbu, for +instance, despite his display of affection, would leave his post to run +after every wild thing he saw; and though he always came back to it, he +was so helplessly breathless, with half a yard of red tongue hanging +out, that he would have been little use had an enemy turned up and his +protection been needed.</p> + +<p>Cats were far wiser. They sat still and watched; so they were always +ready.</p> + +<p>And one evening Down watched to some purpose.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> Baby Akbar was asleep on +some quilts and Down, as usual, lay keeping his feet warm, her eyes +closed, purring away like a steaming kettle.</p> + +<p>You would have sworn she was half asleep, but in a second there was one +spring, something reared itself at her to strike, but her paws were too +quick. One, two, three, came the blows swiftly like boxes on the ears, +and there was a snake squirming and helpless in the dust. Old Faithful's +armoured feet were on its head in a second and the danger was over.</p> + +<p>"Truly a cat is a terrible thing," said Head-nurse in a twitter. "There +is no fear in them. The reptile had not a chance."</p> + +<p>But Down was back on her young master's feet, her eyes closed, purring +away as if nothing had happened.</p> + +<p>Tumbu was in favour, however, next evening, but for a different cause. +He appeared with a great prickly porcupine held gingerly in his mouth +and laid it before Baby Akbar.</p> + +<p>"Ohi! Porcupine for supper!" cried Meroo, the cook boy, who knew what a +delicacy it was; but Head-nurse shrieked, "Take it away quick—the +Heir-to-Empire will prick himself with the quills and they are +poisonous. Take it away at once, I say."</p> + +<p>But alas! The Heir-to-Empire was wilful, like all Eastern Princelings, +and he shrieked to match at the suggestion. So there arose such a +hubbub, which was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> only calmed by Baby Akbar being allowed to do as he +chose.</p> + +<p>"Poor! Poor!" he said as his little hand touched the sharp prickles and +no one found out, till Foster-mother came to put him to bed, that he +really <i>did</i> scratch himself. There was quite a little runnel of blood +on the palm; but Akbar, even when he was a baby, was proud. He knew how +to bear discomfort and punishment when it was his own fault.</p> + +<p>They were all rather merry that night, for they had roast porcupine +stuffed with pistachio nuts for supper. And afterward Roy sat by Baby +Akbar's pile of quilts and sang him to sleep with this royal lullaby:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Baby, Baby-ling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You are always King;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Always wear a crown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though you tumble down;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Call each thing your own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Find each lap a throne;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dearest, sweetest King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Baby! Baby-ling!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>When the child had fallen asleep Roy sat at the door of the tent and +looked at the stars, which shone, as they do in the East, all colours, +like jewels in the velvety sky. They seemed so far away, but not farther +than he seemed to be from himself. For Roy's head had been dreadfully +confused by that sunstroke<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> in the desert. Only that morning something +had seemed to come back to him in a flash, and he had so far forgotten +he was only a page boy as to call the little Heir-to-Empire "Brother," +but Head-nurse's cuff had brought him back to reality in double quick +time. And as he sat there in the dark he saw a man creeping stealthily +to the tent. He was on his feet in a moment challenging him.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" whispered the newcomer, "I bring a message from King Humâyon. I +must see Foster-father at once."</p> + +<p>The good man was already between the quilts, but he got up quickly, and +when he had heard the message he sent for Head-nurse and Foster-mother +and Old Faithful, for he felt that a most momentous decision had to be +made. Yet the message was a very simple one. Those in charge of the +child were to creep away that very night with the messenger, who would +guide them in safety to King Humâyon, who had found help and shelter in +Persia.</p> + +<p>Head-nurse and Foster-mother wept tears of joy at the glad news, and +proposed at once that they should wrap the child in a blanket and start. +But Foster-father was more wary.</p> + +<p>"You come as a thief in the darkness," he said. "Where is your token +from the king, that I may know who you are?"</p> + +<p>But there was no token.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then the child stays where he is," asserted Foster-father boldly. "Am I +not right oh! Faithful?"</p> + +<p>"Assuredly my lord is right. Who knows but this man may be an emissary +of those who would wile away the little lad from his uncle, Prince +Askurry's protection. His other uncle, Kumran, is not so kind."</p> + +<p>The messenger scowled at the old man. "As you please," he began +blusteringly, "but those who disobey the King's order may find their +lives forfeit."</p> + +<p>"Mine is forfeit already to the child's service," replied Foster-father +with spirit. "And without a token I stir not—Peace! woman," he added to +Head-nurse, who would fain have sided with the messenger, "and go fetch +the Heir-to-Empire's cap. That shall go as sign that he is his father's +vassal, to do what he is told when the order comes accredited. So take +that as my answer to those who sent you, sir messenger!"</p> + +<p>So despite Head-nurse's protestations the man went off with nothing but +the little gold-laced skull cap. And he had not to go far; only into a +tent on the outskirts of the camp. For Foster-father's suspicions had +been correct, and he had been sent to try and entice the child by some +of Prince Kumran's partisans who, booted and spurred, and with a swift +pacing camel for the child, were waiting eagerly for the return of their +messenger.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> + +<p>Their faces fell as he flung the little cap upon the ground.</p> + +<p>"The old fox is too wary," he said. "We must get at the child some other +way."</p> + +<p>One of the party took up the cap and fingered it, half idly. "He has a +large-sized head for his years," he remarked; "if it be full of brains, +hereafter he may do well."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h2>AT COURT</h2> + + +<p>Of course, the messenger never returned from King Humâyon with the +token; but Foster-father was a good-natured man and did not boast of his +wisdom to Head-nurse, who, however, remained wonderfully meek and silent +until at the end of a fortnight's marching they saw, against the blue of +the distant valley, the white domes of the town of Kandahâr with the +citadel rising above them. Then, with the chance of a court before her +once more, she began chattering of ceremonials and titles and +etiquettes.</p> + +<p>"Praise be!" she shrilled in her high voice. "No more jiggettings and +joggettings on camel back. I shall be on my own feet once more, and it +shall not be my fault if His just dues are not given to the +Great-in-Pomp——" etc., etc.</p> + +<p>Foster-mother interrupted the string of titles. "So that they harm not +the child," she said, clasping her charge tight. She was always thinking +of his safety, always alarmed for danger; but he, young Turk that he +was, struggled from her arms and pointed to the hills they were leaving +behind them.</p> + +<p>"Dadda, Amma 'way 'way mountains," he repeated once more; then added +cheerfully, "Akka 'way, too."</p> + +<p>"It is a prophecy!" said Old Faithful, overhearing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> the remark. "Sure +his grand-dad Baber—on whom be peace—had the gift, and this babe may +have inherited it."</p> + +<p>"May have," echoed Head-nurse indignantly. "He has inherited it, and has +much of his own besides. Mark my words! if this child live—which Heaven +grant—he will be the King of Kings! Not two summers old and he talks as +one of three."</p> + +<p>"Aye!" assented Foster-mother, "but he does not walk yet."</p> + +<p>Head-nurse sniffed. "Thou are a foolish soul, woman! Sure either the +feet or the tongue must come first, and for my part I prefer the tongue. +Any babe can walk!"</p> + +<p>And Foster-mother was silent; it was true one could not have everything.</p> + +<p>Their last camp was pitched just outside the city of Kandahâr, so that +Prince Askurry could make a regular triumphal entry the next morning and +let everybody see with their own eyes that he had come back victorious, +holding Baby Akbar as prisoner and hostage.</p> + +<p>But this did not suit Head-nurse at all. She had no notion that her +Heir-to-Empire should be stared at as a captive; so, though she started +from camp humbly as ever on the baggage camel, no sooner had they passed +through the arched gate of the city with Prince Askurry well ahead of +them in the narrow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> streets, than out she whipped the Royal Umbrella +which she had patched up with an old scarlet silk petticoat, and there +was Baby Akbar under its shadow; and, having—young as he was—been +taught to salute to a crowd, he began waving his little fat hand with +much dignity, until the people who had come out to gape whispered among +themselves and said:</p> + +<p>"He looks every inch a king's son."</p> + +<p>"And that is what he is," said a bold voice in the crowd; but though +folk turned to see who spoke, there was no sign of the speaker. For +loyal men had to hide their loyalty in those days. Still the populace +were pleased with the little Prince's bearing, and many a hand was +raised to welcome him.</p> + +<p>Before they reached the frowning palace, indeed, where Prince Askurry +kept a right royal court as Governor of Kandahâr, Head-nurse's mind was +full of the things she intended to insist upon for the honour and +dignity of her small charge. Meanwhile she had to obey the order to take +him at once into Princess Sultanam's apartments. Now Princess Sultanam +was Prince Askurry's wife, and she had a boy of her own who was about +three years older than Baby Akbar, and a little daughter who had just +been born about a month before. So, as she lay among cushions at the +farther end of the long room, with Prince Askurry, who had hurried to +see his wife on his return, beside her, she looked suspiciously at the +child which Head-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>nurse put down on the Persian carpet as soon as she +came into the room; since though others might carry him to the upstarts +at the farther end, <i>she</i> was not going to do so, when <i>they</i> were +clearly bound to come humbly to the Heir-to-Empire and prostrate +themselves before him!</p> + +<p>So there stood Baby Akbar, fair and square, steadying himself by +Head-nurse's petticoats, but for all that looking bold and big and +brave.</p> + +<p>Now Princess Sultanam was a kindly foolish woman at heart, much given to +impulses, and the sight of the upstanding little boy made her think +instantly what a fine man he would make, and that brought another +thought which made her sit up delightedly and clap her hands.</p> + +<p>"I have it, my lord!" she exclaimed, turning to Prince Askurry. "It is a +grand idea! We will betroth our little Amina to this young master. That +will settle everything and they will be the handsomest couple in the +country!"</p> + +<p>Now, strange as this may sound to my readers, Prince Askurry, who was +accustomed to the Indian habit of settling that quite little boys and +girls should marry each other when they grew up, could not help at once +seeing that his wife's suggestion was not such a bad one. It would help +him to keep a hold over the little Heir-to-Empire. If King Humâyon +returned it would make him more inclined to forgive, and if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> he did not, +why! it would prevent cruel brother Kumran from stepping in and getting +all, since as father-in-law to the young king he, Askurry, would be +Regent.</p> + +<p>Still, taken aback, he hummed and hawed.</p> + +<p>"It would be a long time to wait until they are old enough to marry," he +began.</p> + +<p>"Long!" interrupted the lively Princess gaily. "All the longer for +merriment and festivities. Thy daughter, my lord, is already beautiful, +and I'll wager the boy will be a grown man ere we have time to turn +round. So that is settled. Therefore come hither, oh nephew! Jallaluddin +Mahomed Akbar, since that is thy long name, and kiss thy cousin +Amina—Nurse! bring my sweeting hither. Now then, woman," she continued +sharply, addressing Head-nurse, who stood petrified with astonishment +and anger at the very idea of such scant ceremony. "If the boy cannot +walk, carry him!"</p> + +<p>Head-nurse could scarcely speak. To be called "Woman" by an upstart—for +Prince Askurry had married Princess Sultanam for her beauty—was too +much!</p> + +<p>"The Feet-of-the-Most-Condescending-of-Majesties," she began pompously, +"have not yet conferred happiness on the earth by treading it underfoot, +neither——"</p> + +<p>Here she broke off hurriedly, for at that very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> instant, as if in denial +of her words, Baby Akbar gave a little crow of assent, let go her +petticoats, and with outspread balancing arms, and legs very wide apart, +launched himself boldly for his very first steps!</p> + +<p>"<i>Bismillah!</i>" (Well done!) shrieked Foster-mother in delight.</p> + +<p>"<i>Bismillah! Bismillah!</i>" echoed every one in the room, while all eyes +full of smiles were on the stalwart young toddler as he lurched forward, +his face one broad grin.</p> + +<p>Princess Sultanam clapped her hands again. "Thy turban, my lord!" she +cried in a flutter of amusement. "Thy turban, quick; as his father is +not here 'tis thy place to prevent him falling of himself—thy +turban—quick! quick!"</p> + +<p>Prince Askurry, full of laughter, pulled off the soft turban he wore—it +was all wound round and round to fit the head like a cap—and in +obedience to the Indian custom, which always prevents a child from +falling of itself in its first attempt at walking, flung it full at the +little lad. It caught him between his outspread balancing arms and over +he went on to the thick pile carpet.</p> + +<p>Foster-mother was beside him in a second, eager to snatch him up and +cover him with kisses; but Baby Akbar wriggled himself from her hold. He +had set himself a task and he meant to do it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Go way!" he said with determination. "Tumbu down. Get up again."</p> + +<p>So, calmly reaching round for the turban which lay beside him, which he +evidently thought had tumbled down too, he clapped it on his head with +both hands, rose to his feet and recommenced his forward lurch; a yard +or two of the fringed turban, which had become unrolled, trailing behind +him like a royal robe.</p> + +<p>It was a quainter little figure than before, but nobody laughed now. +They looked at each other, then at the child staggering along under the +Prince's plumed turban, then at Prince Askurry himself standing +bareheaded before his nephew.</p> + +<p>It was an ill omen. And yet as Head-nurse said proudly when they got +back to the rooms that had been given them in a frowning bastion of the +palace, Baby Akbar had once more scored off his uncle.</p> + +<p>Indeed, she was so cock-a-hoop about it that she stickled for this, and +she stickled for that until the attendants, who were at first inclined +to be civil, began to look askance, and Foster-father had to bid her +hold her tongue.</p> + +<p>"Wise folk leave steel traps alone," he said; "fiddling with them lets +off the spring. Then—pouf!"</p> + +<p>He shook his head significantly.</p> + +<p>"Steel traps?" echoed Head-nurse sniffily, "who is talking of steel +traps?"</p> + +<p>"I am, woman!" replied Foster-father sternly. "I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> tell you this Kandahâr +is as a steel trap ready to snap on us at any moment."</p> + +<p>Head-nurse was silent, even though he also had ventured to call her +"woman"; but she was beginning to learn that nine times out of ten +Foster-father was right.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h2>WINTER</h2> + + +<p>The winter settled in early that year, and with the passes of the hills +blocked by snow, the caravans of laden camels which, in addition to +merchandise of all sorts, brought news from the world to the east and +the world to the west of mountain-clipped Kandahâr, ceased to come into +the big bazaar. And the cold kept most people at home, or shivering +beside the glowing braziers set outside the shops. It was not the season +for active work, and so Prince Askurry let it slip by without really +making up his mind what he was to do with Baby Akbar. Meanwhile the +child could live in the bastion of the palace, and play with his little +cousins. Whether he was to be betrothed to Baby Amina or not could be +decided in the spring; this was the time for rest and home comfort +without fear of any disturbing, since none could cross the passes in +winter.</p> + +<p>Princess Sultanam, however, to whom in her seclusion winter and summer +were much alike, grew fond of the little lad, and never ceased to urge +on her husband the wisdom of so treating Prince Akbar, that should King +Humâyon by good luck—and he <i>had</i> a knack of being lucky—find himself +again with an army at his back, his hands would be tied from revenge on +the Court at Kâbul.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now, Askurry was no fool; he saw that, for the present at any rate, +until Humâyon's fate was decided, it would be wiser to be kind; so he +decided that when he held the New Year's assemblage he would present the +little prince in due form to the chiefs and nobles.</p> + +<p>Head-nurse was almost crazy with delight at the very idea. She and +Foster-mother sent all their jewels to the goldsmith to be made up into +suitable ornaments for Baby Akbar, and they ransacked the shops for odd +scraps of brocade with which to make him the finest of fine state robes.</p> + +<p>And on the eventful day they began the child's toilette early, pressing +Roy the Râjput into service as tire-woman to hold the ointments, and +scents, and what not, that they deemed necessary for the due dressing of +a Prince.</p> + +<p>So that it rather dashed their spirits when Foster-father came in with a +sober face and the news that a man had come into the bazaar bringing bad +tidings of the King and Queen. They had, he said, been lost in the snow; +but whether this was true or not, who could tell?</p> + +<p>"Then what is the use of worrying?" snapped Head-nurse, who was too much +occupied in making her charge beautiful to think of other things. "Lo! +Foster-father, evil is never lost on the road. It arrives sooner or +later, so why watch for it at the door?"</p> + +<p>"That is true," replied Foster-father, "but mark<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> my words, all depends +on good news. If that comes, the child is safe; if evil—then God help +him!"</p> + +<p>Roy, who, Baby Akbar being nearly dressed, was now holding the pot of +lamp-black and oil with which Head-nurse, after the Indian custom, would +put a finishing touch to her work by smearing a big black smut on the +child's forehead, lest he should be too sweet and so attract an envious, +evil eye, looked up at the words, his face full of light and +remembrance.</p> + +<p>"God does help true kingship," he said proudly. "Mother used to say so, +and that is why she was never afraid—" He paused and the light in his +face faded. "I—I don't remember any more," he added apologetically.</p> + +<p>"Remembrance or no," snapped Head-nurse, "hold the pot straight, boy, or +thou wilt spill it over the Mighty-in-Pomp, the Admired-of-the-World," +etc.</p> + +<p>But Foster-father looked at Old Faithful and laid his hand kindly on +Roy's shoulder. "It matters not, Roy! It is there within thee, all the +same. And 'twill come back some day, never fear. And I for one," he +added aside to the old trooper, "should not wonder at much; for the +lad's manners are ever above his present station."</p> + +<p>Old Faithful shook his head wisely. "'Tis not the boy's manners, +friend," he said, "but his breed. A man may compass manners for himself, +but not that his father should have had them also."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> + +<p>By this time the black smear was on Baby Akbar's forehead, and despite +the smudge, he looked a very fine little fellow indeed. So much so that +quite a murmur of delighted admiration ran round the assemblage when +Askurry appeared, leading him by the hand; for he had quickly learned to +run about and was now quite steady on his legs.</p> + +<p>"A chip of the old block," said an ancient mountain chief, who had known +his grandfather Babar, and many others nodded assent. Then Prince +Askurry began a set speech, little Akbar seated on his knee the while.</p> + +<p>It was a very clever, crafty speech, that could be taken two ways, and +Prince Askurry was so much interested in it, and making sure that he was +neither too disloyal or too loyal to his unfortunate brother, the King, +that he did not notice what was passing on his knee until a sudden lack +of attention on the part of his audience made him follow their eyes, and +look down at the child upon his lap.</p> + +<p>And then?</p> + +<p>Then he sat dumbfounded, his face flushing to a dull, dark red, for he +saw in a moment what the thing that had happened would mean to those +others—the audience before him—the men he had summoned to listen to +his half-hearted words.</p> + +<p>Yet it was a very simple little thing. Baby Akbar, tired, doubtless, of +his uncle's speechifying, had found<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> amusement in a slender gold chain +which hung round his uncle's neck; had traced it to a secret pocket in +his inner waistcoat, and so had drawn out from its hiding place a golden +signet ring, set with an engraved emerald. A toy indeed! So after +playing with it for a bit the child had slipped it onto his little +forefinger, which he held up the better to admire his new-found +treasure. So it came to pass that as Askurry's smooth, oily voice went +on and on, those who listened could see a little image sitting on his +knee.</p> + +<p><a name="illus003"></a></p> +<p class="figcenter"><img src="./images/illus003.jpg" +alt="The child had slipped it onto his little forefinger." +title="The child had slipped it onto his little forefinger." /></p> + +<p class="figcenter caption"><i>The child had slipped it onto his little forefinger.</i></p> + +<p>A dignified, gracious-looking image with forefinger held up in the +attitude of kingly command; and on that forefinger—what?</p> + +<p>The Signet of the King!</p> + +<p>The Ring of Empire!</p> + +<p>It was unmistakable! Askurry must have found it in his fugitive +brother's tent. He must have concealed it. Uncertain what part he meant +to play in the end, he must have worn it on his person until the +child—the true Heir-to-Empire——</p> + +<p>The chiefs looked at each other furtively. There was a pause. Then +suddenly an old, thin voice—the voice of the old mountain chief, who +remembered Babar the brave—rose on the silence.</p> + +<p>"God save the Heir-to-Empire!"</p> + +<p>It gave the lead, and from every side rose the cry:</p> + +<p>"God save the Heir-to-Empire!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> + +<p>Prince Askurry's face fell. He had not meant to rouse loyalty, but he +was quick and clever, so he saw that it <i>had</i> been roused, and that now +was not the time to try and stifle it. So his frown turned to a smile as +he caught the child to him and rose, holding him in his arms.</p> + +<p>"The rogue, my lords," he said lightly, "has forestalled me. I meant to +place the ring upon his finger myself before you all, in token that he +does in truth represent our King, but praise be to Heaven! he has saved +me the task. Long live the Heir-to-Empire!"</p> + +<p>But the nobles as they passed out of the assembly, and the people who +heard the tale outside, said it was a strange happening that the +innocent child should so claim his right. And cruel brother Kumran's +party laid their heads together once more, and swore it was time to end +Prince Askurry's foolish hesitation. They must get at the child somehow.</p> + +<p>But by this time, if Prince Askurry had not quite made up his mind how +he should treat Baby Akbar, he had quite settled that no one else—least +of all cruel brother Kumran—should have anything to do with the child. +So the little prince was carefully watched and guarded, rather to +Foster-father's and Old Faithful's relief. Indeed, as time went on they +almost forgot to watch themselves, being accustomed to see the sentry +walking up and down before the entry to the narrow stairs that led up to +the three rooms in the old bastion which were given them as lodgings. +They<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> were large, comfortable rooms, and the inner one was used by +Foster-mother, Head-nurse and Baby Akbar, the outer one by the two men +and the two boys, while the middle one, a great wide hall of a place, +they used as a living room. It was lighter than the others, since it had +slits of windows—without glass, of course—high up in the walls, and +though these let the cold as well as the winter sunshine into the room, +there was a roaring great fireplace, which kept the farther end of the +hall nice and warm. And here on very frosty nights the women folk would +drag their beds and sleep, while during the snowy days they would spread +quilts on the floor, and Baby Akbar would have high jinks with Tumbu and +Down, who were his constant playmates. Then, when he was tired, Roy +would cradle his young master in his arms and sing to him. Not +lullabies, for little Akbar's mind kept pace with his body, and every +month saw him more and more of a boy and less and less of a baby.</p> + +<p>"Tell me how Râjah Rasâlu did this," or "Tell me how Râjah Rasâlu did +that," he would say; and so Roy's boyish voice would go over the old +story of endless adventures, which has delighted so many Indian children +for so many generations.</p> + +<p>So time passed quite merrily until one night, when something dreadful +happened. So dreadful that it will really require another chapter to +describe it. But it was one night when Roy had been telling the little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +prince how "Râjah Rasâlu's friends forsook him for fear." And as this is +rather a nice story, it shall be told here.</p> + +<p>"You know, great Kingly child," began Roy, "how Râjah Rasâlu was born +and how Râjah Rasâlu set out into the world to seek for fortune, taking +with him his dear horse, Baunwa-iraki, his parrot, Kilkila, who had +lived with him since he was born, besides the Carpenter-lad and the +Goldsmith-lad, who had sworn never to leave their young master. So he +journeyed north to a lonely place, all set with sombre trees. And the +night was dark, so he set a watch, and the goldsmith took the first, +while the young prince slept by the Carpenter-lad, on a couch of clean, +sweet leaves. And lest the heart of the prince should sink, they sang a +cheering song:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Cradled till now on softest down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaves are thy bed to-night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet grieve not thou at fortune's frown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brave men heed not her slight.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"And while they slept and the goldsmith watched, a snake slid out from +the trees. 'Now, who are you?' quoth the Goldsmith-lad, 'who come to +disturb his rest?' 'Lo! I have killed all living things that have +ventured within ten miles of this my place of rest,' it hissed, 'and now +I will slay you, too!' So they fought and fought, but the Goldsmith-lad +he killed the snake<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> in the end. Then he hid the body under his shield, +lest the others might be afraid, and he roused from his rest the +Carpenter-lad, to take his share of the watch, while he, in his turn, on +the clean, sweet leaves lay down beside the prince. And while they +slept, and the Carpenter watched, a dragon slid from the trees. 'Now, +who are you?' quoth the Carpenter-lad, 'who come to disturb his rest?' +'Lo! I have killed all living things for twenty miles round this place; +and I'll kill you, too,' it roared, 'and crack your bones to eat.' So +they fought and fought and fought till he killed the dragon at last. +Then he hid the body behind a bush lest the others should be afraid, and +roused Rasâlu from out his sleep to take his share of the watch; while +he in turn by the Goldsmith-lad lay down to take his rest.</p> + +<p>"And while they slept and Rasâlu waked a THING slid out from the trees; +an awful THING! No man could tell th' unspeakable horror of it. But +Rasâlu smiled in its face of dread, and laughed in, its horrible eyes. +'Pray, who are you to disturb our rest, and why do you dare to come?' +'Lo! I have killed all living things for twenty times twenty miles, and +I will kill you, upstart boy, and crack your bones to dust.'</p> + +<p>"So they fought and fought and fought, and Rasâlu drew his bow, and the +arrow fled like the wind and pierced the Awful Horror through. Then it +fled to a cave close by, with Rasâlu at its heels. So they fought and +fought and fought till the dawn showed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> clear in the sky, and the Awful +Horror gave up with a groan and rolled on its side and died. Now, just +as Rasâlu wiped his sword the sleepers awoke from their sleep. 'See +here!' said the Goldsmith-lad with pride, 'what I killed in my lonely +watch.' 'Pooh! only a snake!' said the Carpenter-lad; 'see the dragon I +have killed.' But Rasâlu took them both by the hand and led them into +the cave; but dead as it was, they shrieked with fear at the Awful +Horror they saw. And they fell at Rasâlu's feet and groaned and moaned +and prayed and wept. 'Let us go! Oh, hero, we are but men. We dare not +follow you now. It is nothing to you; it is death to us to follow and be +your friends.'</p> + +<p>"Then tears came into Rasâlu's eyes, but he said no word of nay. 'Do as +you will,' he said to them. '<i>I</i> will not bid you stay.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Aloes linger long before they flower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gracious rain too soon is overpast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Youth and strength are with us but an hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All glad life must end in death at last.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But king reigns king without consent of courtier,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rulers may rule, though none heed their command;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaven-crowned heads, stoop not, but rise the haughtier,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone and friendless in a strangers' land.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"So his friends forsook him and fled. But Rasâlu went on his way."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h2>DOWN'S STRATAGEM</h2> + + +<p>Now the terrible thing that happened was one which Foster-father might +have expected, but for two things.</p> + +<p>One was the sentry who walked up and down all night long below the high +second-story windows of the central room. He would be bound to see any +attempt to gain an entrance through them, even if they were wide enough +to admit the entry of a grown man, which they were not.</p> + +<p>The other was the fact that he, Old Faithful, Meroo and Roy all slept in +the outer room, into which the only door opened, so that any intruder +would have to force an entrance over their bodies; for they slept with +drawn swords beside them.</p> + +<p>So as the days passed on Foster-father's vigilance—though he knew that +cruel brother Kumran's agents were on the lookout for any opportunity of +kidnapping the Heir-to-Empire—slackened somewhat, especially when the +afternoons drew in, the fire in the big hall was made up, the quilts put +down and Baby Akbar, surrounded by his admiring circle, listened to +Roy's stories or tumbled about with his playmates, Tumbu, the dog, and +Down, the cat.</p> + +<p>One day, however, Down did not appear until little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> Akbar was having his +supper, and then she came in a great hurry out of a small archway by the +big fireplace, which led to a sort of cupboard in the masonry, where +charcoal had been kept, gobbled up a plate of bread and milk, and +hurried in again as if she had to catch a train.</p> + +<p>"She has had kittens," said Foster-mother; "I wonder if they are white +or black."</p> + +<p>"Black!" sniffed Head-nurse. "What else could they be in that hole? Have +a care, woman! or the Heir-to-Empire will be blacking himself, too. The +archway is large enough for him to creep in, and Heaven only knows +whither it might lead."</p> + +<p>"That is true," replied Foster-mother, alarmed, as she distracted the +child's attention.</p> + +<p>But in a day or two his quick ear caught the sound of a feeble mewing +inside the arch, and, of course, he wanted to know what it was. So he +was told that kittens had to be kept quiet and that Down would be very +vexed if her kitten was disturbed; but that by-and-bye she would +doubtless bring it out for him to see, and then, of course, he could +play with it. Now, Baby Akbar was always a reasonable little fellow, so +he waited patiently; though every night when he went to bed and Down +came out for her supper, his little mouth would go down and he would +hold up his little hands and twiddle them round and say mournfully:</p> + +<p>"Kitty not 'weady. Kitty not 'weady."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now, one night there was a great festival in the palace, and the +Heir-to-Empire had to go and pay his respects, after the Indian manner +on feast days, to his aunt and uncle. Then, when he returned, they sent +him, after Indian wont, trays full of fruit and sugar-toffee made in the +shape of animals, and a few pieces of muslin and stuffs to make new +dresses for the party. In addition to this there was a trayful of +supper, which came afterward, when daylight had gone, with the Princess +Sultanum's best compliments. At least so said the man who brought it; +but he did not wait to be questioned, and disappeared so soon as Meroo +had taken the tray from him.</p> + +<p>But it was full of the most delicious dainties, including a bowl of +sweet milk made with almonds and honey and rice meal for Baby Akbar.</p> + +<p>Head-nurse, however, would not let him eat it. She was always afraid of +the little lad being poisoned, so Meroo always cooked with his own hands +everything the child ate. Therefore they gave it to Tumbu instead; for, +having been brought up by shepherds, he loved milk, and he licked his +lips after it and was soon sound asleep by the fire.</p> + +<p>The lamb stewed with pistachio nuts and full of saffron looked, however, +so delicious that after Meroo had tasted it and pronounced it quite +safe, since all knew that saffron would not go with real poison, they +set to work and finished the platter.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> + +<p>They were all as jolly as could be afterward, though the heat of the +fire and their heavy supper made them sleepy; so Head-nurse, declaring +it was far too cold in the inner room, dragged her bed and +Foster-mother's close to the fire, the others retired to the outer room, +and before long they were all snoring away quite happily.</p> + +<p>For if the supper had not truly been poisoned, it had been drugged. +Drugged with sleep-bringing drugs.</p> + +<p>So, as the firelight flickered over the room faintly, it showed +Head-nurse's face and Foster-mother's face and even Tumbu's black muzzle +in a dead sleep that was almost unconsciousness. And in the outer room +Foster-father snored, and even Roy's keen, hawk-face lay like one dead. +Only Baby Akbar tossed and turned in his comfortable nest between his +two nurses.</p> + +<p>Save for this, due to Head-nurse's precaution in not allowing the +Heir-to-Empire sweet milk for supper, all was as cruel brother Kumran's +agents had planned when they had sent the pretended messenger from the +palace with the platter of delicacies. Even the sentry below was +sleeping sound after his share of kid curry.</p> + +<p>Thus, those who were on the roof waiting until the moon had set and they +could without fear of discovery lower the young lad, who was to steal +Baby Akbar, down to the window (through which, being slender,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> the thief +could slip easily), felt that their task was almost done.</p> + +<p>But they reckoned without a great white fluff which after a time showed +itself at the entry to the charcoal bunker, yawning and stretching and +blinking its eyes. Head-nurse had been quite wrong in saying Down's +kitten must be black in that hole! Its mother, anyhow, was beautifully +white, perhaps because Down was a sensible cat and had only chosen the +charcoal bunker because she had found a lot of old straw and a blanket +tucked away in its farther corner. Besides, as she only had one kitten, +she could spend all her time in licking it and cleaning it with her +rough, red tongue, after the manner of cats. Anyhow, there it lay, right +out of reach of any one, a little bundle of white fluff, and Down was +just beginning to feel that there were other things in the world besides +kittens. For instance, was that scratching on the roof, think you, a +mouse? If so—? She passed to the fire. It was warm and nice; just the +very place for a kitten's first look at the world, and there were no +troublesome people about; not but what she was anxious to show her +kitten to Baby Akbar. But who knew if horrid Head-nurse might not try to +catch it? But Head-nurse was asleep. Down whisked her tail, disappeared +through the archway, and reappeared again gingerly, carrying the kitten +in her mouth. It sprawled in the firelight and mewed piteously. And +there was that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> scratching on the roof again ... really, kittens were a +bore when one wanted to mouse....</p> + +<p>So far it is easy to follow Down's thoughts. What came next is more +difficult. No one can say whether the cat had <i>really</i> any notion that +danger to her young master was abroad, or whether she only wanted to +show him her kitten, or whether she wanted it taken care of—for Persian +cats, if they kill a rat at night, have often been known to jump on +their master's bed and insist on his taking custody of their prize lest +it should somehow come to life again if they left it alone—only this +was certain, Baby Akbar woke with a rough, red tongue licking his nose, +and there, on the quilt, was Down beside the fluffiest, darlingest +little kitten that ever was!</p> + +<p>He made a grab at it with his little fat hands. Whether this frightened +its anxious mother or whether Down really had a purpose in view, who can +say? Only this is sure: she was off the bed in a second, Miss Kitten in +her mouth. A minute afterward Baby Akbar was off it also with a little +crow of delight. But the drugged nurses did not stir; they were away in +the Land of Dreams. And hark! what was that curious noise outside the +window, as if something was slipping down the wall? Perhaps it was +<i>that</i> that frightened Down once more; for just as Baby Akbar's hand +reached out to lay hold of the kitten, which she had set down by the +fire, Down snatched it up again and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> was off with it back to the +charcoal bunker, with Baby Akbar after her, his face full of solemn +resolve. He meant to play with that kitty.</p> + +<p>And play with her he did. At least, after he disappeared down the +archway by the fireplace he did not come out again. Only Down reappeared +and seated herself at the entrance, her ears cocked, her eyes fixed on +the window.</p> + +<p>For something very funny had happened there, which, though the flicker +of the fire had died down, she could see with her cat's eyes.</p> + +<p>A lad had slipped in, carrying the end of a rope, to which was attached +a network bag. And now, since it was dark, he was striking a light. A +feeble little glimmer, but sufficient to show the two sleeping nurses +and the comfy little nest of quilts between them. But it was empty!</p> + +<p>The boy seemed puzzled, and went into the inner room, only to return +without what he sought. Then he stole into the outer room, but came back +softly with a puzzled look on his face. Then he began to peer about him +on the floor, and in the corners, holding the feeble light in front of +him. Whereupon Down, apparently to satisfy herself that her kitten +really was safe in the corner of the charcoal bunker where she had left +it, retreated for a moment, so that as the searcher came round he saw +nothing but the low, round arch. The next he gave a stifled yell, for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +something white that was all claws leaped right in his face, over he +went and out went his light.</p> + +<p>"I look no more," he said, shivering as, after five minutes' hasty +retreat, he stood on the roof among those who had sent him down. "Let +some one else go; but I tell you the child is not there."</p> + +<p>But one of the crafty, cruel men had sharp wits. "Could he have crept +into the charcoal bunker?" he suggested, and the faces round him lit up. +But the lad's remained sullen, as he wiped the blood from Down's +scratches.</p> + +<p>"Mayhap," he said. "<i>But I go not near that cat again!</i>"</p> + +<p>So, as no one else was small enough to slip through the narrow slits of +windows, the conspirators could only curse their bad luck.</p> + +<p>Thus it came to pass that the hours passed by without further attempt at +baby-theft, while Foster-father snored and Head-nurse dreamed the most +heavenly dreams of wonderful court ceremonials, and all the others were +wrapped in the profoundest slumbers.</p> + +<p>But they all woke at last, and once more there was the most terrible +hullabaloo until Foster-mother recollected the kitten in the charcoal +bunker. Whereupon every one in turn flattened themselves on the floor +and reached in, and Roy actually got his head and one shoulder in; but +no one could feel anything or find<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> out how big it was or anything about +it. Whereupon the two women began mutual recriminations and the men +stood helpless, when suddenly Down appeared with the kitten in her +mouth, and Baby Akbar, who had evidently been comfortably asleep on the +blanket amid the straw, came crawling after his new pet.</p> + +<p>"So far so good!" said Foster-father, who, noticing a fallen piece of +mortar at the window-sill, had been carefully examining certain signs +and scratches both without and within, "but if I be not much mistaken, +some one hath been through here this night. And that we were all drugged +ye must know if the inside of your mouths be like mine! So we have to +thank Heaven and the cat for an escape!"</p> + +<p>And so they had, though it was a sore trial once more to the women to +have nothing but guesswork to go upon.</p> + +<p>"I wish I knew," murmured poor Foster-mother mournfully, as she watched +Baby Akbar, and Down, and the kitten, and Tumbu, all playing together +before the fire.</p> + +<p>But once more Baby Akbar was silent, and Down told nobody—unless it was +Tumbu. Perhaps he <i>did</i> know, because he allowed Down's kitten to play +with his tail!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h2>SPRING</h2> + + +<p>Winter passed to spring and spring to early summer, and yet no certain +news came of King Humâyon or Queen Humeeda. Foster-father almost gave up +hope, yet he said little, though he took counsel with Old Faithful, and +he in his turn consulted the old mountain chief, who at the assemblage +had been the first to cry, "Long live the Heir-to-Empire."</p> + +<p>But the old man shook his head. The times were new, he said; very few +people remembered, as he did, the old ways, the old Kings. But for the +sake of Babar the brave they might always count on his sword and the +sabres of fifty or more of his followers. So, if the worst came to the +worst, they were welcome to an asylum in his eagle's eyrie of a +fortress, where at any rate they could all die together fighting for the +King; and what more did any brave man want?</p> + +<p>This was not much consolation to Foster-father, who felt that there was +nothing to be done, save by every means in his power, to curry favour +with the Princess Sultanum.</p> + +<p>But, indeed, the little Heir-to-Empire made himself friends wherever he +went; they could not help liking the frank little fellow who spoke to +them so freely, with a certain grave dignity of his own. For by the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +time the peach gardens around Kandahâr lay like clouds of pink and white +about the old domed city, little Prince Akbar was in looks and ways a +child of three or even four; so big and strong was he. He spoke +perfectly in his childish way, with great emphasis and a curious, soft +burr over his r's and h's. And he actually tried to wrestle with his +cousin Ibrahim, who was, however, rather a puny boy, despite the fact +that he was three years older than the little Heir-to-Empire.</p> + +<p>But with Roy as playmate Akbar began all sorts of games. There was a +high, walled peach garden not far from the bastion, where the little +Prince used to be allowed to go; and there, during the long sunny hours, +the Râjput lad, to whom such things were all curiously familiar, taught +the child how to ride on Tumbu's back, and how to hold a spear. Aye! and +to take a tent peg, too; the peg being only a soft carrot stuck in the +earth! But the great game was shooting with a bow and arrow, and in +this, before spring passed to summer, the pupil was a match with his +teacher except in strength; for, from the very beginning, Akbar showed +himself steady and straight as a shot; so it is no wonder he grew up to +be the finest marksman in India. But it would take too long to tell all +the games they played, all the manly sports which the little prince +learned without any difficulty. There was a shallow marble tank in the +middle of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> garden, where he took to the water like a duck, and would +lie on his back and kick and shout with laughter as the tank got rough +with waves, till Foster-mother would beg him not to drown, as the water +splashed over him high in the air.</p> + +<p>But Foster-father always reproved her for her fears. "Leave the lad to +learn King's ways," he said, "and thank Heaven the Râjput foundling is +here to teach him. Think you <i>I</i> could tumble head over heels in air or +water or ride bareback standing on one leg?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed!" would reply Head-nurse, who stifled her terrors from a +sense of duty, "none, seeing thy figure, friend, would ask so much of +thee."</p> + +<p>Then, when Akbar grew tired, Roy would sit leaning his back against a +peach tree so as to make a soft pillow for his little master, and Akbar +would lean against him and listen to endless stories while the soft +fresh breeze stole over the garden wall, and sent showers of pink peach +petals on both the boys. And sometimes the little Prince, outwearied, +would fall asleep, and then Roy would sit still as a mouse, gently +flicking away with the end of his muslin turban the blossoms that fell +on the little sleeper's face. But his thoughts would be busy, wondering +above other things why it was that, do what he would, he could not help +when they were alone at play sometimes calling the Heir-to-Empire +"little brother." It was dreadfully<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> wrong of him, of course, and +Head-nurse would rightly cuff his ears if she overheard it!</p> + +<p>Then Akbar would wake and call imperiously for some favourite story, and +as often as not it would be the tale of "How Râjah Rasâlu swung the +Seventy Maidens."</p> + +<p>And Roy would reply submissively: "It is ordered, Highness!" and begin:</p> + +<p>"Now Râjah Rasâlu, soft heart and strong, heard a pitiful voice as he +rode along. 'Oh traveller! traveller! turn aside, and help God's +creature,' it moaned and cried. So the Prince turned straight and saw +that a fire had caught a bush, blazing higher and higher, while a tiny +cricket lay gasping for breath, half-scorched, half-choked, and nigh to +its death. Then Râjah Rasâlu, soft hearted and stout, put his hand in +the fire and snatched it out! And the cricket drew forth a feeler and +said: 'Take this, my preserver, 'twill bring you aid; should <i>any</i> thing +<i>ever</i> prove troublesome, burn <i>this</i> in the fire and <i>I</i> will come.' +Then Rasâlu laughed with a great big laugh, 'I thank you, weakling! But +none of your chaff! <i>You</i> couldn't help <i>me</i> I'll go bail.' So he rode +on careless o'er hill and dale, a glittering knight in his shining mail, +till he came to the city of King Surkâp, whom he'd sworn to kill with +his sword so sharp. Now as he rode through a garden gay, Seventy Maidens +barred the way; Seventy Maidens young and fair,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> with flowers decking +their golden hair. Seventy daughters of the king, come out to play and +laugh and swing and jibe at the stripling who'd sworn to slay their +father, the mightiest king of this day. But the youngest maid had a +heart of gold, and when she saw Rasâlu so bold, and strong and handsome +riding to death, on his horse Irâki, she caught her breath, and +whispered to him as he passed her way:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Fair prince on thy charger so gray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turn thee back, turn thee back.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thou lowerest thy lance for the fray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy head will be forfeit to-day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dost love life? then, stranger! I pray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turn thee back—turn thee back.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"But Rasâlu smiled in the maiden's face, and drew his rein for an +instant's space, while he gave her answer with courtly grace: 'Fair +maiden, I come from afar, sworn conqueror in love and in war. Thy father +my coming will rue, for his head in four pieces I'll hew. Then forth as +a bridegroom I'll ride with you, little maid, as my bride.'</p> + +<p>"Now at these words, and his face so kind, and strong, and brave, the +maiden's mind fluttered, the blood through her heartstrings whirled, she +felt she could follow him through the world; but her sixty-nine sisters +were jealous and cried: 'Not so fast, young man! If <i>she</i> be your bride, +<i>you</i> be our younger<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> brother, beside! So do our bidding or go on your +way.' 'Fair sisters,' quoth he, 'let me hear your say!' Now the sisters +vowed he should not succeed, so they took a whole hundred-weight of +seed, as fine as the hundred-weight of sand they mixed it with, then +gave command: 'If you wish to marry our sister, sir, take the seed from +the sand without demur.'</p> + +<p>"Then Râjah Rasâlu stood aghast; but he thought of the cricket's gift at +last, and taking it out of his pocket thrust it into the fire, and a +cloud as dust showed in the sky and the distant whirr of thousands of +wings caused the air to stir, as, dark'ning the day like a fun'ral pall, +a flight of crickets appeared at the call. 'What is our task?' asked his +friend with a laugh; 'only <i>that</i>? I've brought too many by half!' So +they set to work with a will indeed, till the sand lay separate from the +seed, and sixty-nine maidens pouted and frowned as they wondered <i>what</i> +new task could be found, to puzzle Rasâlu and keep him there a slave to +the wishes of maidens fair. 'Now swing us all, sir, one by one, when we +grow tired your task is done!'—they laughed in their sleeve, for they +knew right well, that when they'd be tired, none could tell!</p> + +<p>"But Rasâlu laughed: 'What! seventy girls—for my little bride is the +pearl of pearls—and only one man to swing the lot! Shall I spend my +life in such silly rot? No! into one swing the seventy go; I'll fasten +the rope to my mighty bow, and shoot an arrow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> for all I know, so in +with you, girls, sit all in a row, and don't be frightened, my little +dears, I'll swing till you're tired, so have no fears.'</p> + +<p>"Then the seventy clambered into one swing—so merry, so careless, their +voices ring. And Rasâlu stood in his shining array, as merry and +careless as happy as they. He fastened the ropes to his mighty bow, and +bent till it would no further go; then with a twang he loosed the +string, and like an arrow the laden swing with its burden of seventy +maidens fair, shot like an arrow into the air. Merry and careless with +laugh and smile, up in the sky for many a mile; like a soaring bird in +the distant blue, while merry and careless, and tall and true, Rasâlu +waited upon the plain, till the swing swung back to its place again. +Then he out with his sword and laughed anew, 'Ye have had a fine ride, +ye giggling crew; enough and to spare, so out with you there!' Then he +severed the ropes with one mighty sweep, and the seventy maidens fell in +a heap; and some were broken and some were bruised, and the only one +that was not ill-used was the youngest maid, for she did not drop till +the very last, so she fell on top!"</p> + +<p>And here Prince Akbar used always to laugh gravely and say: "Glad she +didn't tumble down <i>really</i>, for she was a nice little girl."</p> + +<p>One day when the peach blossoms had all floated away, leaving in their +place grey-green fluffy ovals<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> that by-and-bye would be luscious ripe +fruits, Foster-father arrived in a great state of excitement just as +Rasâlu had finished swinging his Seventy Maidens.</p> + +<p>"News, news!" he cried; "real news at last; and thank Heaven they are +good! My master, the King, has not only secured shelter, but help, and +hath written to his brother, Prince Askurry, advising him not to listen +to ill advice, but to give in his allegiance at once, when all shall be +forgotten. In token of which clemency he is sending to his +still-dearly-beloved brother, Her Royal Highness the Princess Bakshee +Bâni Begum, that she may be a companion to her half-brother, the +Heir-to-Empire."</p> + +<p>Prince Akbar, who was leaning on Roy's breast, suddenly sat up. "Is that +my sister?" he asked eagerly, "is she a nice little girl like Rasâlu's +bride?"</p> + +<p>Head-nurse laughed. "Nice enough I'll warrant, though I never saw her; +she has been since she was born, six years past, with her mother's +people; but so long as they send no fine ladies of nurses with her she +is welcome."</p> + +<p>Little Prince Akbar stood up and stretched himself, and looked at +Head-nurse critically.</p> + +<p>"Akka will welcome her, and Akka will tell you to be her nurse, and Akka +will swing her a great big swing."</p> + +<p>So far as he was concerned <i>that</i> settled the question; but up at the +Court there were endless question<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>ings of heart. Prince Askurry was, as +ever, in two minds as to what he should do. Cruel brother Kumran, who +was Governor at Kâbul, pressed his advice to stand firm, to send the +child to him, to let him show King Humâyon that paid Persian troops +could not stand up against Indian ones. But Princess Sultanum had really +become fond of the little Heir-to-Empire, and felt sure that if they +only played their cards carefully the king, out of gratitude, would +consent to a betrothal between his son and her little daughter Amina. +And in the end the wife's counsel prevailed. So a better lodgment was +found for the royal children in an old palace surrounded by a lovely +garden, and here, just as the roses were beginning to bloom, little +Prince Akbar, dressed in his best, stood awaiting his sister's arrival. +He had insisted on having, like Râjah Rasâlu, a coat of mail; so +Foster-mother had made him a tight-fitting corselet of silver tissue, in +which he looked very fine indeed, as he stood brandishing a wooden sword +covered with tin foil.</p> + +<p>But when the red and gold bedecked camel did finally come up the +marble-paved pathway with silent soft elastic swing, little Akbar forgot +all about the part he was playing, and when he saw his sister, just ran +up to her and hugged her tight, and said breathlessly: "Ah! you are a +nice little girl!"</p> + +<p>And a very nice little girl she was! Very small for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> her age, with a +little oval delicate face, big hazel eyes, and brownish hair all plaited +in tiny, tiny little plaits on her forehead.</p> + +<p>And she was dressed just like a grown-up, with little ear-rings and +wristlets and anklets and necklaces and rings, with the dearest, +daintiest of flimsey gauze veils set with little silver stars wound all +about her! Never, said Head-nurse, had been such a darling little +marionette, and when the small person fell gracefully at her brother's +feet and begged his favour in a little piping voice, that stern believer +in court etiquette was perfectly enchanted.</p> + +<p>"It will be a real boon to the First-Gentleman-of-the-World, the +Courtly-one-of-Courts, etc., etc., to have the society of his equals," +she said with a darkling look at Princess Sultanum's Head-nurse, who had +brought Prince Ibrahim and Baby Amina to welcome their cousin.</p> + +<p>But, after all, Bakshee Bâni Begum did not turn out so demure as she +looked! Indeed, when Head-nurse was not by, she was a regular tomboy; +and after a whole morning spent in most lady-like fashion either playing +with her dolls, or stringing beads, while Down, the cat, on her lap +blinked and purred and stared out on the world with her big blue eyes +and her little white feet tucked well inside, she would, when the women +retired to get ready the mid-day meal, spring up like a squirrel, +scattering beads and cats as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> if they were of no account! Then the +garden would re-echo to children's laughter.</p> + +<p>And she would let Mirak, as she elected to call her brother, swing her +for hours, but she obstinately refused to tumble down!</p> + +<p>"But, Bija," expostulated the little lad, "the princess did tumble down +in the story."</p> + +<p>"I am not a princess <i>in a story</i>," said Bija calmly, "I am Her Royal +Highness Princess Bakshee Bâni Begum."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h2>THE NIGHT OF RECORD</h2> + + +<p>So the summer days passed and winter set in once more. Though more +satisfied, Foster-father felt still that safety depended on King +Humâyon's success or failure.</p> + +<p>So, whenever one of the long files of camels tied together in a string, +head-and-tail, showed on the hill road above Kandahâr, he was off to the +halting-place outside the city to see what news it had collected in its +march from Hindustan; for caravans in those days were the postmen.</p> + +<p>And sometimes he heard one thing, and sometimes another, but as often as +not he returned as he went, without any remedy but patience.</p> + +<p>"Anyhow the child grows in stature and strength," Head-nurse would say, +"and our present lodging is better than our last!"</p> + +<p>Which was true; for the old house of three stories which they now +inhabited was full of little rooms leading one out of the other like a +rabbit-warren. And if there was no furniture in them, so much the better +for the children's games of "I espy" and "Touch who Touch can."</p> + +<p>For Bija and Mirak played such games with infinite zest. As Head-nurse +had foretold, the coming<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> of his little sister had been an immense gain +to the Heir-to-Empire; not only in manners, but also in his outlook upon +life. For Princess Bakshee Bâni Begum was a very determined small +person, who did not in the least see why the elder sister of a boy +should give way to him in all things, simply because he was +Heir-to-Empire.</p> + +<p>"I won't have it, Mirak," she would say with a stamp of her little foot; +"you shall not break my doll's head just because you want to."</p> + +<p>So Prince Akbar, who was full of sound common sense, began to think she +had reason on her side; and this was of great advantage to him, for with +Head-nurse, and Foster-mother and the others, he stood a great chance of +being spoiled.</p> + +<p>And after a time he became quite devoted to the prim little maid, who, +for all her primness in general, could be as wild as a hawk on occasion.</p> + +<p>And out of that arose an incident which, unfortunately, turned Princess +Sultanum against the little lad and so endangered his safety. It came +about in this way. Prince Askurry's son Yakoob was, as has been said, +three years older than Akbar, a lanky, rather weedy lad-ling of nearly +six. Now Prince Askurry was himself a noted wrestler, and was determined +his son should be one also. So he had the boy carefully taught, and set +a good deal of store by the quickness of the little fellow in learning +the grips,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> and how to trip up an adversary. On high days and holidays, +indeed, Prince Askurry and his wife used often to amuse themselves by +seeing the discomfiture of other less experienced children who were set +up to compete with the young wrestler. Baby Akbar had been one of these, +and being so much younger, he had always gone down before Yakoob's +skill; but he had always taken his overthrow in good part, though +Head-nurse had felt as if she could not keep her fingers off the victor. +It was not fair, she would say afterwards, to match a baby of two with a +child of six, and then she would try to hug the vanquished +Heir-to-Empire and cover him with kisses; but Akbar, always independent, +resented this. "Akbar tumble <i>him</i> down some day," he would say +philosophically; and indeed there seemed every chance of it, for, mere +baby as he was, there was more promise of future strength in his little +finger than in Yakoob's whole body.</p> + +<p>Now, as winter came on, the children were driven indoors for their play, +and Old Faithful at their earnest request, rigged up a swing in a large +empty room in the palace, and here Princess Bija would be swung like the +Seventy Maidens, until Prince Akbar wearied of swinging her; and knowing +that nothing would induce his elder sister to tumble down like the +princesses in the story, would say quite plaintively:</p> + +<p>"Please, Bija, get down; I'm tired of being<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> Rasâlu," when the little +maid would descend gracefully and they would play at something else.</p> + +<p>But one day, just after the New Year, Prince Yakoob came to spend the +day with his cousins, and the children fell to acting the adventures of +Râjah Rasâlu; Yakoob, as the guest, playing the hero's part.</p> + +<p>They got through several of them quite successfully, Princess Bija +making a spirited carpenter's lad and killing his dragon with great +vigour, while the Heir-to-Empire, disguising his deep baby voice in a +high squeak, doubled the parts of the seventy-nine maidens and the +cricket. So all went merry as a marriage bell until Rasâlu had to order +the giggling crew out of the swing.</p> + +<p>Then, of course, Bija refused; whereupon Yakoob, a spoiled boy, cast +aside the tinsel-covered wooden sword, and whipped out from his belt a +toy dagger his father had given him that morning. It was not very sharp, +but very little cuts a taut rope, and one furious slash severed some of +the strands, the weight of the two children did the rest, and there they +were both on the marble floor!</p> + +<p>And unfortunately the "pearl of pearls," Râjah Rasâlu's bride, did <i>not</i> +fall on top. She fell underneath the Heir-to-Empire, and the +Heir-to-Empire was heavy! So there was her poor little lip all cut and +her pretty little nose all bleeding. Then <i>two</i> Head-nurses rushed in, +and <i>two</i> Foster-mothers, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> ever so many pairs of nursery attendants, +each taking the part of their respective nurslings, and there was a +terrible to-do, for, of course, one Head-nurse said it was the fault of +the other Head-nurse, and so on. In fact peace did not return until the +party separated and the offender, Prince Yakoob, was being joggetted +back to his mother by his excited attendants, while Princess Bija was +having her swollen nose soothed by cold water. She did not cry much, but +she was terribly indignant with every one, including her brother.</p> + +<p>He couldn't have prevented his cousin from cutting the rope, of course, +but he might have made his cousin's nose bleed also! If she hadn't been +otherwise occupied she could have done it herself; she was quite sure +she could; or at any rate have done something quite as disagreeable!</p> + +<p>She looked very fierce as she spoke, while Akbar listened with grieved +attention. In fact, what Bija would have done, had Head-nurse not had +her in her arms cossetting her, became quite a subject of conversation +between the two children, Bija sitting demurely threading beads and +inventing new methods of just punishment, and the Heir-to-Empire lolling +on the floor pretending to sharpen his tinfoil sword, and interposing +objections such as, "But you couldn't do <i>that</i>, Bija, you're not +<i>strong</i> enough," or "<i>That</i> wouldn't be fair, Bija, for he only hurt +you a little, you know." For Akbar was born with a sense of fair-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span>play +and justice which never forsook him, because he always gave <i>it</i> fair +play.</p> + +<p>So the idea of somehow getting the better of Yakoob became a fixed one +in the little lad's mind until an opportunity for action came to him.</p> + +<p>It was about a month afterwards, on the "Festival of Record"; that is to +say, the day when good Mohammedans pray for guidance during the coming +year, and believe that God's Angel, accompanied by the spirits of their +dead ancestors, appears on earth to judge the record of the past year, +and write on the forehead of each man and woman and child what reward or +punishment is deserved in the next. In the evening, thousands of little +lamps are lit, so that there shall be no darkness anywhere, but all +things shall be made manifest, and when the little platters of sweets +and food are set out lest any of the spirits, who come to plead for +their descendants, should feel hungry, it is a very solemn affair; but +the day is generally spent in amusement.</p> + +<p>So Princess Sultanum arranged an entertainment, and, as usual, there was +to be a bout of wrestling between her son and some little companions, +amongst them the Heir-to-Empire. Head-nurse was furious, of course. The +show was invented, she declared, to disgrace the Mighty-in-Pomp, the +Pole-star of the Universe, etc., etc.</p> + +<p>Akbar himself took it very complacently and al<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>lowed himself to be +undressed and oiled all over, so as to make a grip very hard; for these +are the Indian customs. And a very sturdy specimen he looked as he stood +up and crossed his arms and then slapped himself with resounding slaps +before crossing them again; also after Indian fashion, for so much he +had learned of wrestling.</p> + +<p>Then the signal was given, and Yakoob, as was his wont, began, in +imitation of grown-up wrestlers, to steal an advance on his adversary.</p> + +<p>But Akbar would none of that. Whether, watching real wrestling, he had +noticed the method of attack he employed, or whether Roy had taught him, +or whether he got it out of his own head, does not matter; but the +little fellow rushed forward furiously and charging like a butting ram, +caught his cousin full in the stomach, then making a snatch at his ankle +tripped him up. So there in a second was Yakoob on his back, and Akbar, +breathless but triumphant, on top of him.</p> + +<p>"Now <i>you've</i> tumbled down," remarked the Heir-to-Empire suavely, as, +astride his cousin's prostrate body, he paused for breath ere getting +up.</p> + +<p>Of course, some people said it wasn't fair; but others admitted that +though not the <i>polite</i> style of wrestling, such a method was strictly +within the rules. All, however, admired the big, bold, strong little +Heir-to-Empire; all but his aunt and uncle; and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> former bid +Head-nurse take away her young savage at once, while the latter's crafty +face, uneasy before, settled into a scowl.</p> + +<p>But Head-nurse could hardly contain her joy, even when Foster-father +shook his wise old head and said he would not have had it happen for all +the wealth of the world, for of late, if he were not much mistaken, +things had been shaping ill for his young master, and that very morning +a secret messenger had come in from Kâbul. What it might portend who +could say; but it was bad fortune the child should lose favour at Court +to such slight purpose.</p> + +<p>"Slight, indeed!" sniffed Head-nurse. "Is it not something to have shown +that woman that her brat cannot stand up before true Kingship?"</p> + +<p>"I would it were so, woman," replied Foster-father, "but a child under +three with but two old men and two boys for protection cannot show much +fight."</p> + +<p>Head-nurse tossed her head. "So we women are not to count—" she began; +but Baby Akbar had been listening seriously and now put in with his deep +childish voice, and a wise little shake of the head:</p> + +<p>"And there's Tumbu and Down, too; they can bite and scratch beautifully +for me when they like."</p> + +<p>Whereupon Foster-mother caught him up, and wept, and swore that Heaven +must and would protect such a heart's darling.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> + +<p>Perhaps it was this conversation which put the idea of getting help into +the children's heads, but after a time it was evident they had some plan +between them, for after watching the women light hundreds of little +lamps, and set out a quantity of tiny platters full of sweets, they +stole off by themselves to an empty room which was almost dark and began +to whisper.</p> + +<p>"I think it had better be grand-dad," said the Heir-to-Empire gravely, +"'cos my father isn't dead yet, and they must be deaders, you know, if +they are <i>really</i> to help."</p> + +<p>"And we'll take the little summer room at the very top of the house, +Mirak, so's we'll be able to stop him on his way down, 'case any one +else has got a platter for him," said Bija the practical. "Now, Mirak, +I'll fetch the sweets if you'll get some lamps. They won't be missed, +you know, if we take them betwixt and between."</p> + +<p>After that there was much secret hurrying up and down stairs and secret +gurglings of delight as the preparations advanced.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mirak! Won't it be lovely? He's sure to come in when he sees it!" +said the little girl, clasping her hands. "And Old Faithful was saying +that Grand-dad Babar was as good as twenty other men in a fight, so +<i>then</i> you'll be quite safe."</p> + +<p>But Mirak's face was solemn. "If Grand-dad doesn't know it's for him he +won't come in, and he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> won't eat the sweets either. It's greedy to eat +sweets as doesn't belong to you, and <i>he</i> wasn't greedy. Old Faithful +says he wasn't. He was a real King."</p> + +<p>"Don't you think he might be greedy just to help you?" suggested Bija +mournfully; but after thinking a little she clapped her hands. "I have +it, Mirak! If his name was on it that would do! I think I could write +'Ba-ba.' It's only the two first letters, you see, and I know <i>them</i>; +and you could prick yourself for some blood to write with, and I could +use my little finger as a pen. It's very, very tiddly wee."</p> + +<p>It was, indeed! and Mirak sat large-eyed in admiration of his sister's +ingenuity, while she, mistress of the situation, did this and that until +even she was satisfied. And really the little arched and domed cupola +set in Eastern fashion on the roof, looked quite pretty with the little +glittering lights in a square on the white marble floor, and the platter +of sweets placed in the middle of the square, whereon in smeared red +letters showed this:</p> + +<p class="figcenter"><img src="./images/illus004.jpg" +alt="BA BA" +title="BA BA" /></p> + +<p class="figcenter caption">BA BA</p> + +<p>"And now, Mirak!" chattered Bija, "we'll go down and go to bed like good +boys and girls, and then when the others are saying their prayers and +going to sleep we can come up again and sleep here."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Won't it be very cold, Bija?" asked Mirak, whose little nose was half +frost-bitten already, for a cold wind was blowing off the snow hills.</p> + +<p>"We will bring quilts," said the little lady with a superior air.</p> + +<p>So, about an hour afterwards, after the children had been put to bed and +their elders had begun the serious work of watching and waiting and +dozing through the night, two little figures, well wrapped up in quilted +cotton gowns and dragging quilted cotton blankets behind them, stole up +the stairs to the roof of the house.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to ask God to let him come," said Baby Akbar solemnly. So +they both touched the cold marble floor with their warm little foreheads +and said:</p> + +<p>"Please Great God! Let our grand-dad Babar come and take care of us, and +be kind to us, and not let the Angel write nasty things on our foreheads +for this next year!"</p> + +<p><a name="illus005"></a></p> +<p class="figcenter"><img src="./images/illus005.jpg" +alt="So they both touched the cold marble floor with their warm little foreheads." +title="So they both touched the cold marble floor with their warm little foreheads." /></p> + +<p class="figcenter caption"><i>So they both touched the cold marble floor with their +warm little foreheads.</i></p> + +<p>Then they cuddled themselves closely together in the blankets and were +soon fast asleep.</p> + +<p>So fast asleep that even when, after the short hullaballoo which +followed on the discovery that they were not in their beds, they were +traced to the roof, they did not thoroughly wake up, but were carried +down again without knowing much about it.</p> + +<p>"Shall I blow out the lights?" asked Roy, as Head-nurse prepared to +descend also.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> + +<p>Head-nurse looked round to Foster-father for his opinion.</p> + +<p>"No!" he said shortly, "leave them! The children have asked some one to +eat those sweets. Let be! They may want all the help they can get."</p> + +<p>So all the night long the little lamps twinkled and twinkled.</p> + +<p>But when morning came there was not a sweet left!</p> + +<p>"It must have been the rats," said Meroo, who, as cook, had gone up to +see what he could save. "I saw the tail of one disappearing."</p> + +<p>But Foster-father said swiftly: "I would it were some other helper, for +the time has come for help. Prince Askurry hath sent to say we start for +Kâbul and cruel brother Kumran at noon to-day!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h2>A WINTER MARCH</h2> + + +<p>It was only too true! The escort which was to see them on the road was +already occupying the garden, the horses champing their bits and +fretting because the long branches of the roses at which they snatched +held nothing but thorns.</p> + +<p>Prince Akbar, indeed, was too much interested in watching them and +wondering if they were very hungry to take much heed of anything else, +but Princess Bakshee Bâni Begum, who was a very practical little person, +at once began to pack up her favourite doll.</p> + +<p>"You had better choose out some toy, Mirak," said she, "or you will be +wanting to play with mine, and I won't let you."</p> + +<p>But Mirak was busy with the horses.</p> + +<p>"I sha'n't want anything but my sword," he replied valiantly. "I'm a big +boy now, and I'm going to play with real things." Then he turned to one +of the troopers with a quaint air of authority. "Your horse is too thin. +When I am King I shall see that my men give their horses enough to eat."</p> + +<p>Foster-father, who overheard the child, paused in the hasty arrangements +he was making to look at the little Heir-to-Empire and put up a prayer +that the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> fates might let him be King; but the future looked black +indeed. The road to Kâbul must still be blocked with snow, even if more +did not fall by the way. A likely happening, with the bitter north wind +and the dull lowering sky. And if the young child escaped the danger of +extreme cold and extreme hardship, what might not be before him in Kâbul +itself?</p> + +<p>Better, it might have been, for those in charge of him, to have risked +all, taken refuge with the old mountain chief, and died like brave men. +There was but one comfort in the whole affair. Prince Askurry must know +that Humâyon or his friends were close at hand, or he would not be in +such a desperate hurry to send away the Heir-to-Empire.</p> + +<p>And this, indeed, was the truth. The fear of a rescue was so real and +immediate that Prince Askurry had had to make his decision in a minute. +So there was scarcely any time for preparation, and by noon the party +had started for the three hundred and odd miles of mountainous country +that lay between them and Kâbul. Only the children's faces were +cheerful; even Roy's showed grave and anxious.</p> + +<p>They rode fast and far till dusk fell, when they had covered full twenty +miles. For the last few, both the women, who were mounted behind +troopers, had almost been dropping with fatigue, but the captain of the +escort was under orders to go as far as possible that night, so he +pushed on to reach a place<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> called Robât. Here they were all +unceremoniously bundled into one large room, and by the steady tramp +through the night of a sentry outside, Foster-father judged they were +complete prisoners. Luckily they were given plenty of fuel to replenish +the fire that roared in the wide chimney, so the elders squatted round +it and dozed, holding the children in their laps. They slept as soundly +as if they had been in their beds, and so did Tumbu and Down, who had +both insisted on being of the party; the latter having quite calmly +taken her place on Horse-chestnut's broad wavy back on the wide cushion +of felt which Foster-father used as a saddle-cloth. She had left her +kitten behind her as it was now quite a big tom-cat, and able to take +care of itself.</p> + +<p>In a way, both Tumbu and Down had already been of service to their young +master, for the troopers of the Escort had been amused by the golliwog's +gambols, and had admired Down's dignity, so they were more inclined to +treat the whole party in kindly fashion. Indeed, next morning, the +Captain of the Escort, whose anxiety about a rescue had, perhaps, been +lessened by the uneventful night, was much less strict in his orders, +and took Prince Akbar on his own saddle and let him hold the reins.</p> + +<p>"He is a brave, bold lad," he said to Foster-father; "were he to live, +he would make a good King." Then he frowned, his mouth hardened and +Foster-father,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> watching him, augured ill for the safety of the +Heir-to-Empire. For the time, however, all went well, though +Foster-father remarked that they kept off the direct track as much as +possible; no doubt to avoid pursuit. And at Ghuznee, where they halted +the second night, the Captain of the Escort sent nearly all his men into +the city by one gate, taking with them, despite their protestations, Roy +and Meroo and Old Faithful, while he himself, with but one or two +troopers, Foster-father, Foster-mother, Head-nurse and the two children, +entered by another and found lodging in the caravanserai as common +travellers. Evidently, Foster-father surmised, it was thought best for +some reason or another to conceal the fact that the Heir-to-Empire was +being carried off to Kâbul; and something happened that evening to make +him certain that this was the case. It was dark ere they arrived, so the +other travellers in the <i>serai</i> took little heed of the small party, +especially as there were women and children in it, and it is not polite +in Eastern countries to take any notice of them. But while Head-nurse +and Foster-mother were busy settling down the children's quilts in the +little dark archway room, which was all the accommodation available, and +Foster-father had gone to purchase them some milk for their supper, the +little Prince and Princess, greatly excited at the novelty of their +surroundings, wandered out into the dark square enclosure, where fires +burned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> here and there in the open, lit by travellers who were cooking +their evening meal. They stood by these watching what was going on with +quick interest, answering questions that were put to them with frank +smiles and laughter. Being dressed in heavy sheepskin outer coats to +keep out the cold, no one guessed that they were other than they seemed, +poor travellers' children, until at the end of a long row of picketed +horses at the further end of the courtyard, Akbar saw Horse-chestnut, +Foster-father's pony. Now Foster-father had only had time to tie the +poor beast head and heel, so there the honest creature stood, looking +very dejected, with emptiness before it, while the troopers' horses +beside him were enjoying great bundles of green grass. The little fellow +flushed up in a moment; he called loudly to a man who stood near:</p> + +<p>"Ho! slave there! bring my pony grass—dost hear? and be quick!"</p> + +<p>The man laughed. "Alâh!" he said; "whose son be you to give orders that +fashion?"</p> + +<p>"Whose son?" echoed the child passionately. "I am——"</p> + +<p>But Bija clung to his arm. "H'st, Mirak!" she whispered. "Remember what +Head-nurse said that we were not to tell——"</p> + +<p>Akbar stood irresolute; he was wise beyond his years. "But +Horse-chestnut must not be hungry. I won't have it!—he shall have +grass," he said angrily;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> then, without another word he walked up to the +next horse, took a great armful of the grass that lay in front of it and +scattered it before his favourite.</p> + +<p>"So there! slave!" he cried defiantly with a stamp of his foot.</p> + +<p>The man looked at him curiously, said nothing, but went over to some +others and began to whisper.</p> + +<p>A minute afterwards, Foster-father returning, found the children the +centre of a little crowd eager in enquiry whence they came, whither they +were going, and, ere he could get them safely to their quarters, the +attention of the Captain of the Escort had been arrested, he came out +frowning and fuming.</p> + +<p>"We march again in an hour," he said angrily to Foster-father. "On thy +head be it if thou can'st not keep thy young fighting cock in +order—'twill be all over the town by midnight!"</p> + +<p>Foster-father did not often let his temper get the better of his +prudence, but he could not resist saying mildly: "Kingship is like the +musk-bag, friend, that was broken at the royal child's birth. It +diffuses its perfume over the habitable world, and none can mistake it."</p> + +<p>The Captain of the Escort shrugged his shoulders. "Then it shall smell +in the wilderness, friend; for I run no risks of rescue this side the +passes. So bid the women give the young crowing cockerel his supper and +prepare to start again. There will be a moon in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> another hour and we can +push on. Meanwhile I go to warn the other folk where to rejoin us."</p> + +<p>It was a bitter cold night. The wind blew keenly from the snow before +them, and by the time they reached a miserable village, high up on the +slopes of the pass, every one save the two children was chilled to the +bone; but they, well happed in all the coverings the fugitives could +compass, were warm; Akbar, in Foster-father's arms, with Down, the cat, +cuddled up beside him, and acting as a hot bottle! Once more there was +plenty of fuel in the rude hut where they found shelter, and stiffened +limbs and half-frosted fingers soon began to thaw. Tumbu, who had kept +himself supple by, as usual, bounding about, was the only one of the +party who did not doze off at once, now comparative comfort was reached.</p> + +<p>But he was curiously restless. Over and over again he rose, went to the +door and seemed to listen. Then he began to whine a little, then to +scratch at the door as if he wanted to get out. Finally, finding no one +paid any attention, he let loose one short, sharp bark, which awakened +Head-nurse, who with an impatient look to see if her children had been +disturbed, and an angry whisper, "Go, then! thou mean-born beast," rose +softly, set open the door for a second, then closed it again, shivering +with the chill blast that swept in. But Tumbu was out like a flash and +disappeared in the darkness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> + +<p>It must have been an hour afterward that every one's slumber was +disturbed by the most insistent barking that ever was heard. Even Akbar, +usually the soundest of sleepers, sat up and rubbed his eyes.</p> + +<p>"The evil-dispositioned hound!" said Head-nurse in drowsy anger. "I +deemed he had left us forever, and good riddance, too."</p> + +<p>But little Prince Akbar, half awake, protested in defence of his dear +dog.</p> + +<p>"Tumbu only barks when he wants something, nurse; go and see what it +is."</p> + +<p>"A likely story!" cried Head-nurse.</p> + +<p>"Well," interposed Foster-father philosophically, "some one must go if +any one is to sleep."</p> + +<p>Whereat he went to the door; but Tumbu on the doorstep refused to come +in; he barked, bounced off, and returned the next minute to whine and +bark again.</p> + +<p>"He only wants something; go and see what it is," came Mirak's +deep-toned voice. "I know he wants something."</p> + +<p>"Lo! man alive!" grumbled Head-nurse; "shut the door whichever way it +is. I perish with cold!"</p> + +<p>Foster-father was a wise man, so to avoid further discussion he stepped +out and shut the door behind him. Thus for a minute or two there was +peace. Then Foster-father's voice rose urgently from outside.</p> + +<p>"Open! I say open! Quick!"</p> + +<p>Foster-mother flew to obey, and her husband stag<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>gered in, bearing some +one in his arms. "God send the boy be not dead," he said as he laid down +his burden.</p> + +<p>It was Roy the Râjput!</p> + +<p>"I found him quite close, frozen by the cold," he continued, as they set +to work before the fire to rub the poor, stiff limbs and force a few +drops of hot milk through the blue lips.</p> + +<p>It was some time before a faint sigh, a quiver of the eyelids told that +Roy was once more coming back to the world; but after that it was not +long before he could sit up and tell them what had happened.</p> + +<p>He had managed to evade the eyes of the troopers, and had arrived at the +<i>serai</i> just after the startled party had left it; had followed on their +traces until he had lost his way. In despair he had been stumbling along +aimlessly when Tumbu had suddenly appeared. Following his lead, he had +struggled on, gradually benumbed by cold, until at last his feet had +failed him, and he remembered no more.</p> + +<p>"Tumbu wanted Roy!" said little Prince Akbar gravely. "I told you he +wanted something."</p> + +<p>And Tumbu, hearing his name, roused his furry head from his furry paws +and looked at his young master with his sharp, beady, black eyes, as who +should say:</p> + +<p>"Of course I did, because I knew you wanted him."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h2>SNOW AND ICE</h2> + + +<p>The Captain of the Escort was not over pleased to find Roy when he came +in the next morning, and said curtly that the boy, having found his way +on foot, must make it on foot, and that none should wait for him. To +this the Râjput lad made no demur. His long limbs on that hilly country +were more than an equal even for Horse-chestnut's climbing powers, and +the cold was so intense that it was a relief not to sit still on +horseback. So he raced on ahead with Tumbu or held by Horse-chestnut's +stirrup, and, as he ran, told stories to amuse the Heir-to-Empire; for +neither of the nurses was in a fit state to do more than sit tight, tied +by leathern belts to the troopers behind whom they rode.</p> + +<p>About sunset time they arrived at a lonely shed at the beginning of the +highest bit of the main road, which they were now obliged to take, as +there was no other way over the mountains ahead of them. Here, at the +end—as poor Head-nurse wailed—of the habitable world, the Captain of +the Escort had expected to find the remainder of his men; but they were +not there, and as his provisions were running short, he could not go on +till they did arrive. So, in an ill humor, he ordered a halt, and the +whole outwearied party hastily cooked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> themselves a meagre supper and +lay down in hot haste for rest at last. And rest they had, for that +night the snow, which had been threatening, began to fall, and by +daylight a good nine inches lay on the ground. The children, who had +never seen such thick snow before, were delighted; but Foster-father +looked fearfully at the passes before them, while the Captain of the +Escort fumed and fretted at the non-arrival of his men. Unless they came +soon, he said, if more snow fell, the pass immediately in front of them +might be closed for days. Not that there seemed much likelihood of +further storm, for the sky was blue as blue, the air, though keen, +pleasant. About noon, there being still no sign of the missing men with +provisions, the captain became impatient, and told Foster-father curtly +that he and his three troopers would ride back some fifteen miles to a +village, where perchance the others were waiting, and that meanwhile the +rest of them could wait till he returned; there were provisions enough +for a day or two. Foster-father protested against being left alone in +the snow with but a boy, two helpless women and two young children; but +the Captain only laughed and rode off, taking with him Horse-chestnut, +as a precaution, doubtless, against any attempt to escape with the +Heir-to-Empire.</p> + +<p>There was nothing to be done, Foster-father felt, save to wait with what +patience he could; but his heart sank as, while Head-nurse and +Foster-mother slept,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> outwearied by the past two days' fatigue, and the +children under Roy's care played snowballs, he sat and watched the sky. +At first there was only a cloud or two in the west; then a sudden wind +sprang up and drove the fine, powdery snow in drifts. But still the sun +shone, though it seemed to grow a little dimmer, a little paler; +finally, about two hours after the others had left, Foster-father felt +uncertain whether it was all drift that seemed to fill the air with a +fine white film, or whether fresh snow was falling.</p> + +<p>An hour later there was no doubt about it. Great flakes were circling +down silently, the sun had vanished, all things had become grey. +Head-nurse heaped up the fire, set a quilt before it for the children to +play upon, and then opened out the wallets to see what she could find +for supper. There was not much left, and she was about to knead up all +the flour to bake hearth cakes when Foster-father crossed over to her +and whispered:</p> + +<p>"Half will do, sister; otherwise there may be none for to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"None?" she echoed. "But they will be back——"</p> + +<p>Foster-father pointed to the snow that, driven now by a rising wind, had +drifted underneath the door. "Not through that, sister! We may have to +stay here till the weather moderates, for none save friends will risk +their lives, and these men love us not!"</p> + +<p>But even as he spoke there was a bustling at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> door, Tumbu flew +forward, barking loudly, and in stumbled——</p> + +<p>Old Faithful and Meroo the cook-boy!</p> + +<p>They were heavily burdened, half-blinded by the snow, and they had a +disquieting tale to tell. About twelve miles back, just as the snow +began to fall, their party, which had been delayed on the main road by a +flooded river, had come upon the Captain of the Escort and his three +troopers. Then had ensued a hurried consultation, in which several of +the men had flatly refused to go on in face of the coming storm. It was, +they said, sheer madness. Better return to the nearest township and +await better weather. As for the prisoners, they had food enough to keep +life in them for a day or two, and after that they must take their +chance. Whereupon Old Faithful and Meroo had offered to go on, carrying +some of the provisions they had with them, and trusting to be able to +follow the tracks left by the horses in the snow. This had been agreed +upon, and—here they were!</p> + +<p>"For," as Old Faithful went on, "see you, I am not afraid of snow, +having been with Babar the brave (on whom be peace) when he marched from +Herât to Kâbul and was nigh lost on the Great Zirrin pass."</p> + +<p>Little Akbar, who was playing at cat's cradle with his sister, looked up +eagerly. "Was Grand-dad<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> ever in the snow? 'Cos if he was, he's quite +sure to help us, for he ate all our sweeties, didn't he, Bija?"</p> + +<p>The little girl shook her head and put her finger to her lip, in warning +to him not to give away their secret; but Head-nurse was sharp.</p> + +<p>"Ohé," said she, "so that was it! Listen, Foster-father! these babes set +the platter for Firdoos Gita Makâni—on whom be peace! Is not that good +omen for us all?"</p> + +<p>"Mayhap!" said Foster-father, clearing his throat cautiously, "and my +heart is comforted also by the presence of Faithful, who was with the +great king in his battle with snow and ice."</p> + +<p>The Heir-to-Empire dropped his cat's cradle and went over to the old +trooper and stood before him with grave, questioning eyes.</p> + +<p>"Is it so, slave? Were you with Grand-dad in the snow?"</p> + +<p>"Most-Honourable! I was," replied the old man boastfully, "and I +remember as if 'twas yesterday——"</p> + +<p>"Tell us the tale, trooper," interrupted Head-nurse. "'Twill hearten us +all up ere we sleep, since there is naught else to be done."</p> + +<p>"That will I, mother," replied Old Faithful with alacrity, "and in the +very words of my revered master as written in that book of books, his +Memoirs, which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> doubtless the most Learned-of-the-Universe will read +some day."</p> + +<p>Mirak, who was back at his cat's cradle, looked up with grave +superiority.</p> + +<p>"Nay, slave! They shall read it to Akbar. He will be King."</p> + +<p>"Hark to him!" ejaculated Foster-mother, delighted. "His words are all +fortunate."</p> + +<p>"We have need of more fortune by works, not words, woman," said +Foster-father sternly. "So proceed, friend Faithful; the recitation of +brave deeds can never come amiss."</p> + +<p>Old Faithful settled himself by the fire and began. "First you must know +that Firdoos Gita Makâni, or Babar the brave, had to get back to Kâbul, +because wicked men were waiting to be punished. Now, it was winter time, +and none dreamed of travelling over the passes at that season. But +Firdoos Gita Makâni was not one to hold back when a thing had to be +done. So we started, and this is what happened, in his own words:</p> + +<p>"From the time we left Herât it snowed incessantly; the farther we +advanced the deeper it became. After three days it reached above the +stirrups. In places the horses' feet did not reach the ground; yet the +snow continued to fall. One Bishâi was our guide. I do not know whether +it was from old age, or from his heart failing him, but having once lost +the road,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> he never could find it again; so, as it was not to be found +with all our exertions, we were brought to a complete stand. Seeing no +other remedy, we returned back to a place where there was abundance of +firewood, and despatched sixty or seventy chosen men to retrace our +footsteps and find on lower ground any people who might be wintering +there, and bring back another guide. We halted thus for three or four +days awaiting the return of our messengers; but when they did appear it +was without any one to show the way. Placing my reliance on God alone, +therefore, I went on. For about a week we continued beating down the +snow so as to form a road, only advancing two or three miles a day. +Accompanied by ten or fifteen of my personal followers, I worked myself +with the others. Every step we took forward we sank up to the middle, +but still we went on, trampling till we got firm foothold. And as the +first person wearied of the exertion, he stood back and another took his +place. So, after a time, we managed to lead on a riderless horse. It +generally sank to the stirrups, and after floundering on a dozen paces +was worn out. But the second did better. Thus in this way the twenty or +so of us managed to prepare a sort of road for the rest, who with +hanging heads (though many of them had seemed our best men) advanced +along it without even dismounting! But this was no time for reproof or +authority. Every man of spirit hastens to such work<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> of himself, and the +rest do not count. In this way after three or four days we reached a +cave at the foot of the Zirrin Pass. That day the wind and storm were +dreadful; the snow fell in quantities; we all expected to meet death +together. The snow was so deep, the path so narrow, the days were at +shortest. The first of the troops reached the cave while it was yet +daylight; but some men had to wait for morning on horseback. The cave +seemed to be too small for all, so I would not go in. I felt that for me +to be warm and comfortable while my men were in snow and drift; for me +to sleep at my ease while my followers were in trouble and distress, +would be unfair. I felt that whatever their sufferings might be, I ought +to share them. So I took a hoe and dug down into the snow as deep as my +breast; this gave me some shelter from the wind, and I sat down in the +hole. By bedtime prayers the snow had fallen so fast that four inches of +it had settled on my head——'"</p> + +<p>Here Old Faithful paused and shook his head gravely. "His Majesty," he +went on, "writes in the margin, 'That night I caught a cold in my ear.' +It is only wonder he did not catch his death."</p> + +<p>"But what happened next?" asked Akbar impatiently. "Did poor Grand-dad +sit in the snow all night?"</p> + +<p>"No, Most-Honourable. He goes on to say, 'The cave was properly explored +and found to be large<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> enough to hold us all. So I ordered all to go in, +and thus we escaped from the terrible cold, snow, and drift, into a +wonderfully warm, safe, comfortable place. And next morning the snow and +tempest ceased and we moved on, trampling down the snow as before; but +ere we quite got through the pass, night fell. Though the wind had +fallen, the cold was dreadful, and several lost fingers, toes, even +hands and feet from frostbite, as we waited for dawn in the open. As +early as we could we moved down the glen, descending, without road, over +difficult and precipitous places, the extreme depth of the snow enabling +us to pass over countless dangers. Thus our enemy became our friend.</p> + +<p>"'It was evening prayer time ere we got from the mouth of the valley, +bedtime prayers when we reached the village of Auleng. The people +carried us to their warm houses, brought out fat sheep for us, a +superfluity of hay and grain for our horses, with abundance of wood to +kindle our fires. To pass from the cold and snow into such a village +with its warm houses, to find plenty of good food as we did after days +of hunger is an enjoyment that can only be understood by those who have +suffered similar hardship, have endured such heavy distress.'"</p> + +<p>Old Faithful paused and sighed. "That is so like Firdoos Gita Makâni," +he said. "When danger was over he would sit down and write beautiful +things<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> about it; but when it was there he never seemed to think of +anything but trampling it down."</p> + +<p>"That is like all Kings," said Roy proudly, "and brave men are always +Kings in danger."</p> + +<p>But Foster-father was looking at the fire. "Abundance of fuel," he +murmured, "that is what we have not."</p> + +<p>"We shall not need it here, friend," replied the old trooper. "Meroo, +remove that log; 'tis too hot as it is, and if the snow continues to +drift as it was doing a while agone—" he moved to the door, which +opened inward and set it wide. A great white wall reaching almost to the +eaves showed filling up the doorway! "It is as I thought," he said; "we +are prisoned here till the storm passes. Thank God we have provision +enough for some days."</p> + +<p>"And thanks to others also," put in Foster-father heartily; "but for +thee and Meroo, old friend——"</p> + +<p>"As Firdoos Gita Makâni used to say," remarked the old man with an air +of great virtue, "'Gratitude comes when danger has gone,' so she must +wait a bit yet."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h2>OVER THE PASS</h2> + + +<p>Gratitude had longer to wait than even Foster-father, who always took a +gloomy view of things, had thought for, since the next morning found the +shed almost hidden beneath a snowdrift. Still, as Old Faithful remarked, +it was not altogether to be regretted since the covering kept out the +cold and allowed them to save their small store of firewood for cooking. +The lack of light was, however, terrible until Old Faithful, whose +experience with Babar the brave made him full of expedients, hit on the +plan of setting Tumbu to work to dig out a hole through the drift, for +they had nothing with them to use as a spade. What he did was to set the +door wide, cut a narrow tunnel with his sword as far as he could reach +in the banked-up snow, and thrust a bit of food in its farther end. Then +Roy brought Tumbu and said:</p> + +<p>"Fetch it out, good dog! fetch it out!" while Mirak and Bija looked on +delightedly, calling, "Good dog! Dig it out! dig it out!" Tumbu, the +most playful of animals, soon entered into the fun, and set to work +shovelling out the snow till he found the food. Then another bit was +thrust in, always in an upward direction.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Tis slow," said Old Faithful, "but not so slow as trampling down a +road!"</p> + +<p>Not half so slow, for after a time Tumbu seemed to understand what they +would be at, and needed no more bits of food to make him dig, but went +on solidly, every now and again giving a yap just to make himself +believe he really <i>was</i> digging something out. In fact, he got on so +fast that Roy, who, as the slimmest of the party, had to keep the tunnel +clear of the dug-out snow, had almost more to do than he could manage. +It was frightfully exciting, and Mirak and Bija were dancing about, +unable to keep still, when a sudden shaft of light that burst into the +dark shed, and a furiously joyful barking that came down the funnel as +if it had been a speaking trumpet, announced Tumbu's arrival in free +air.</p> + +<p>"Now, we shall do," said Old Faithful with much importance. "Lo! how one +clever idea begets another. But for Firdoos Gita Makâni trampling a road +I should never have thought of a tunnel!"</p> + +<p>Roy, however, was already hard at work improving on the idea by widening +the way with Old Faithful's sword, being only let from doing more by +Head-nurse's exclamation that the melting snow would flood the shed.</p> + +<p>"Let be, boy!" said Foster-father; "the hot air from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> within, rising +through the tunnel, will melt the sides by degrees. To-morrow will see +it large enough for you, at any rate, to pass through."</p> + +<p>And so it proved. Not next day, but the day after, not only Roy, but +Mirak and Bija, had managed to climb up to the outer world by the +notches which Roy cut in the snow walls.</p> + +<p>It was a strange, chill world which they saw. Far as the eye could +reach, nothing but snow, the air frosty and sharp, though the sun was +shining once more. Mirak was keen to snowball, but Roy would not hear of +it; the snow was melting with the faint heat of the mid-day sun, he +said, and a step might make the frost film break, and down into the +powdery drift they might go, never to come up again. So they only stood +looking about them for a few minutes and then prepared to go back.</p> + +<p>"Take care, my lord, take care!" cried Roy, as Mirak, who was preparing +to descend legs foremost, as he had been told to do, suddenly looked up +with a face full of mischief, let go with his hands, and pouf! +disappeared down the slippery tunnel like a pea in a pea-shooter. A +burst of laughter from below told them he had arrived safely, and +nothing would suit Bija but to do likewise, Roy being still too tight a +fit to slide quickly. In fact, the children were eager to climb up once +more and do it again, but Head-nurse said she could not hear of it; +their clothes were wet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> enough as it was; besides, it was most +unlady-like for a real Princess!</p> + +<p>The days, therefore, did not pass so uncomfortably, though pressing +anxiety sat on Foster-father's honest face, and every time Roy returned +from a climb up to outer air he would ask him if he had seen anything.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," Roy would reply, "and the snow wastes but little, we are so +high up."</p> + +<p>At last one night, after the children were asleep, Foster-father +summoned a council of war. It would not be wise, he said, to remain +where they were, without making any effort at escape, until their +provisions were exhausted. Then they would be helpless. Now they still +had enough for two or three days, and it behooved them to make a +push—but whither?</p> + +<p>"Not back on our steps," advised Old Faithful. "Firdoos Gita Makâni +always said: 'No retreat till there is no advance.' Besides, see you, if +we go down, the snow will be melting and give us no foothold. But at +night the frost will hold on the pass. And it is but little farther to +the next shelter; for, see you, I have come twice this way from +Kandahâr; but never the other way back. So my memory of land-marks—if +there be any—would be nothing on the downward journey. But upward it +might come to life. Again, upward there is less chance of missing the +way, as all the valleys converge to the Pass, whereas downward they +spread out in different directions."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> + +<p>In fact, there were so many points in favour of advance that the +decision was made for it, and the next night settled on for the start. +There were not many preparations to make except for the women, who had +to bake what flour they had into hearth cakes. They had a little wheat +and pulse, too, and this they roasted and tied up in the corners of +their veils. Everything that was heavy had to be left behind, for they +knew that even unburdened they might have difficulty in getting the +frost film on the snow to bear their weight. It was a bright, starlight +night when, the snow tunnel having been enlarged by Roy, regardless of +flooding the shed, the whole party crept out and stood on the wide, +snowy expanse. Tumbu was first, and with joyful yaps began to career +about in circles curved like a comma, biting and snapping at the snow. +Down came last, and <i>meaowed</i> piteously, lifting up first one cold foot, +then another, and shaking it in disgust. Finally an idea seemed to come +into her head; she made a bound toward Tumbu, and the next moment was on +his back, clawing onto his fluffy black fur; whereat everybody laughed. +So, with many a prayer for guidance, the little party set off, Old +Faithful leading the way. At first they managed pretty well, though the +men and women, being heavy, sank over the ankles at each step. But both +Bija and Mirak, and even Roy, being light, found the surface hard enough +to bear them; so they ran on ahead and chattered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> and laughed, the whole +business being to them a huge joke. Thus an hour passed cheerfully +enough; then Bija began to get tired, and Foster-father took her in his +arms. The result sent his heart into his mouth with sudden fear, sudden +certainty that no help could come that way. Even her slight additional +weight sent him almost waist deep into the snow. He could scarcely move! +And ere long the Heir-to-Empire would doubtless weary also; then what +was to be done? For every hour after midnight would bring the thawing +sun nearer and nearer; they might have to remain on the Pass till night +brought frost again, and in that case what would become of the children?</p> + +<p>Then suddenly his eye caught Tumbu, who was marching along sullenly, +Down nestling, fast clawed in his broad, furry back. Could the dog carry +a child? A creature with four feet had greater purchase of foothold than +one with two.</p> + +<p>"Roy," he said, "turn the cat off and put the Heir-to-Empire on the +dog's back; he must be tired also."</p> + +<p>Mirak, nothing loath, climbed quickly to his mount; but ere he had +settled himself on its back Tumbu had begun to sink slowly. The little +lad's weight was too much for even four feet; there was a struggle, over +went the little Prince, and both he and Tumbu had to be picked up and +set on their legs again on a fresh, unbroken place.</p> + +<p>Foster-father looked in despair at Old Faithful,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> and for a minute no +one said anything. Then the old man's face lit up. "Lo! I had forgotten +it utterly, but the time and place bring memory back. Firdoos Gita +Makâni—who knew all things under the sun—had a favourite horse, that +strained itself falling into a drift. They were for leaving it to die, +but that did not suit Firdoos Gita Makâni, who was kind to all God's +creatures. So, having read of the like somewhere, he set us to make a +sort of platform with our lances and blankets underneath the poor brute, +and so we dragged him over the snow, until we reached a place where +there was water and grass."</p> + +<p>"We have no lances," said Foster-father, "and there is no wood." He +looked around helplessly.</p> + +<p>"My lord has a sword," put in Roy eagerly, "and so has Faithful. If he +were to tie them crossways to the scabbards—" He had already thrown off +his skin coat and was unwinding his long muslin waistband to tear it +into strips to use as a cord.</p> + +<p>"It is worth the trying, friend Foster-father," said Old Faithful, +unbuckling his sword.</p> + +<p>"Aye!" continued Roy, elated with the idea, "and Tumbu can drag it. He +makes no mark on the snow, so it will be smooth and slippy—and the +curved scabbards will be like runners."</p> + +<p>His dexterous fingers were hard at work binding the long sword blades to +place. Then a strip of woollen shawl was fastened to them as a seat, +Meroo's turban<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> served as harness, and in less time than could have been +imagined the quaint sledge was ready for trial.</p> + +<p>Mirak sat on it first. "Now then, Tumbu! Good dog!" said Roy in a +flutter for fear of failure. Tumbu turned round, looked at his little +master with a broad grin of red tongue and white teeth, gave a little +grunt, and started.</p> + +<p>The sledge slid on over the frozen snow quite easily!</p> + +<p>"Now praise be to God!" cried Foster-father, overjoyed.</p> + +<p>"And Grand-dad!" said the little Prince, who always listened to +everything; "but I knew he would help us, didn't you, Bija?"</p> + +<p>"But I want to go on the thing, too," she whimpered.</p> + +<p>"Mayhap it might support them both," put in Head-nurse; "she is but a +featherweight, and there is plenty of room."</p> + +<p>Ere five minutes were over the little party, greatly heartened up by +finding this unexpected way out of their difficulties, started once +more, Roy encouraging Tumbu, who, in truth, seemed to feel his task +quite a light one, while Foster-father, in his relief and gratitude, +allowed Down, the cat, to creep once more inside his fur coat. Her +weight made him sink a little farther into the snow, but he was strong, +and felt he could have done more for the sake of the children's safety.</p> + +<p>On and on they went, the frost film giving firmer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> foothold on the +top of the pass, while the chill which always precedes dawn took away +still more from the difficulty of Tumbu's task. In fact, the curved +scabbards slipped over the hard snow as if it had been ice.</p> + +<p>So they went on till a glimmer of dawn showed them that the summit had +been reached, the downward slope begun. But still, far and near, nothing +but snow was to be seen. Then suddenly, ahead of them, a shadow showed, +a shambling shadow! Tumbu stopped dead, sniffed, then with a bound was +off full tilt after it, the sledge, with the two children in it, flying +behind him!</p> + +<p><a name="illus006"></a></p> +<p class="figcenter"><img src="./images/illus006.jpg" +alt="Ahead of them, a shadow showed, a shambling shadow! Tumbu ... with a bound was off full tilt after it." +title="Ahead of them, a shadow showed, a shambling shadow! Tumbu ... with a bound was off full tilt after it." /></p> + +<p class="figcenter caption"><i>Ahead of them, a shadow showed, a shambling shadow! Tumbu ... with a bound was off full tilt after it.</i></p> + +<p>For an instant the others were too much astonished to speak. Then Roy, +with frantic cries to Tumbu to come back, was off after them. In vain! +As he crested a little rise he saw by the growing light a big brown +Isabelline bear shambling along contentedly, seeming to go no pace at +all, yet gaining steadily on the sledge that was giving chase.</p> + +<p>"I will follow as fast as I can!" panted the Râjput lad breathlessly, as +Foster-father, Meroo, and Old Faithful, hampered by their greater +weight, ran up. "It is a bear; but they cannot catch it—and Tumbu will +tire—then he always comes back. Follow you on my tracks with the +women."</p> + +<p>With that he was off like an arrow from a bow behind the bear, Tumbu, +the sledge, the Heir-to-Empire and the Princess Bakshee Bâni Begum, who +by this time had all disappeared behind the hilly horizon.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h2>IN THE VALLEY</h2> + + +<p>Roy ran and ran and ran until he was breathless; yet still he ran, until +little by little he recovered his breath again as wild animals do. Every +moment he hoped to see Tumbu either returning or standing still, panting +and waiting for the others to come up. But he saw nothing save, +stretching away as far as the eye could reach, a smooth, not over steep, +snowy slope. So far there was little fear of the sledge being overset.</p> + +<p>Then, after he had run a long way, he paused, for there were now two +tracks instead of one. The marks of the bear went up a little side +valley, the marks of the sledge went down the slope. What could have +happened? Had Tumbu in his haste missed the bear's trail? That was not +likely. Having come so far, had he determined to go on? That was not +likely either, unless the children had urged him forward. Knowing +Mirak's bold, adventurous spirit, this seemed possible, and Roy's heart +sank; but he started off running again, knowing that no matter what had +happened he must follow his little master, and follow fast.</p> + +<p>But as he ran downward and downward the frost film on the snow became +less and less firm. The sun was rising now, and even its earliest rays +seemed to melt his foothold, and he began to sink at every step.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> The +sledge, however, appeared from the faint marks it left to have slid on +without difficulty. No doubt, he thought, because of the children's +light weight, and because the platform between the swords and scabbards +which supported them was so large; many times larger than his own feet! +Why, even Tumbu's four broad, furry paws had sunk into the snow a +little, and would doubtless have sunk more but for the pace at which he +must have been going.</p> + +<p>The sledge was the thing! How clever it was of Old Faithful to remember +Firdoos Gita Makâni's way of saving his horse; but after all, when one +came to think of it, the thanks were due to Babar the brave for being a +real King, kind-hearted to animals.</p> + +<p>And now Roy's task became dangerous as well as hard, for every moment +lessened the firmness of the ice film. And he was now running down a +shallow valley, which was completely blocked up by drift, except in the +very middle, where every now and again you got a glimpse of a roaring +torrent—kept unfrozen by its snowy covering—hollowing its way +downward; but for the most part it was invisible, the only sign of it +being a roar, a tremble beneath your feet. Thus he was, as it were, on a +snow bridge, of which the surface might at any moment give way. And that +meant certain death in the dark pools below. In one place, indeed, he +was all but lost; however, a wild leap landed him on safe ground, and +with a gasp of fear, not for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> himself, but for the children ahead of +him, he ran on, comforted by the sight of the sledge track going on and +on.</p> + +<p>After a while he had to cease running from sheer fatigue; but still he +plodded on, telling himself that even half an hour would have made a +difference in the snow. That where he found danger, the children might +have found safety; and always before him that track of the +scabbard-sledge showed him that so far, at any rate, all had gone well.</p> + +<p>And then, as he turned a sharp curve in the shallow, snow-covered +valley, he saw a little below him something that made him turn sick with +fear. It was the sledge, empty, deserted! A second glance, however, +showed him that it was not overset. Those who had been in it must have +left it of their own accord; and the cause of this was soon made clear. +Within a few yards the snow ended and a rocky descent began, down which +the sledge could not have gone. So either Tumbu or the children had been +wise; and they were still in front of him, but how far off who could +tell? The sun was already high, hours must have passed since he first +started in chase; but now that they were on foot there was some chance +of overtaking them before anything dreadful happened.</p> + +<p>In his hurry Roy almost flung himself from rock to rock down the +descent; but he had to pause to take off his fur coat, for in this +sheltered spot the sun beat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> shadelessly, the snow melted as he passed, +the stones ran with moisture, and in the crannies of the rocks young +green things were everywhere starting into growth. The past storm of +bitter cold had ended winter; spring had begun. And now the rushing +torrent, escaping finally from its snowy blanket, dashed over the +boulders beside him, carrying with it great blocks of melting snow.</p> + +<p>On and on he went, thinking the descent would never end, till at a turn +he saw below him a tiny valley, just a sort of cup in the hills, through +which the stream rushed, sparkling in the sunshine. The banks were still +brown, but they were patched with great beds of rose-pink primula, blue +gentian, and yellow dog pansies. And on a perfect carpet of these sat +three dark figures! Never in his life was Roy so overjoyed. He forgot +his fatigue, and ran on until he could plainly see Princess Bakshee Bâni +Begum making cowslip balls out of the pink primulas, the Heir-to-Empire +contentedly munching a cold hearth cake, and giving bits of it to Tumbu, +who, with his head cocked on one side, had evidently heard Roy's distant +step. The next instant a furious barking showed that he was on the alert +to defend his young charges, and Roy had to call to him again and again +before he was satisfied that the newcomer was a friend.</p> + +<p>"Why, what a long time you've been coming," said the Heir-to-Empire +calmly. "We've had our break<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>fast, 'cos we couldn't wait any longer. You +can't have come as fast as you could. No more would Tumbu, only we made +him not be lazy, 'cos Head-nurse says—what is it she says, Bija?"</p> + +<p>The little girl looked solemn. "She says every one should do everything +as quick as ever they can. So we shouted at Tumbu and pulled his tail +just a liddly-wee bit like the bullock drivers do. And then we had the +loveliest ride, and Tumbu wasn't a bit cross; but he wouldn't go down +the rocks and growled. So we had to get out and walk. And then we came +here, and first of all we picked flowers; then I had hearth cakes and +popcorn in my veil, and so we ate our breakfast, and then you came—and +that's all, thank you!" She had just finished a lovely soft ball and she +flung it full at the Heir-to-Empire. It hit him, but he took no notice. +He was thinking of something else.</p> + +<p>"But where," he began, and his little lip went down, "is Head-nurse—and +Foster-father—and Foster-mother—and Old Faithful—and Meroo—and Down? +What have you done with them, slave?"</p> + +<p>He was half angry, half ready to cry, so Roy, though his own heart +failed him as he thought of the dangers of the road, had to soothe and +comfort him by saying, as cheerfully as he could, that they would come +before long. But would they? Now that the relief of finding the children +were safe was over, poor Roy began to see the difficulties before him. +If those<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> others did not come, what would he, a mere lad, do? How could +he care for his little master and mistress? They had had their +breakfast, it is true—Roy forgot he had had none himself!—but what +could they have for supper? He could not even think, he felt too giddy +and tired even to sleep; so, after he had rolled his fur coat into a +soft pillow for the little Prince and Princess, who were drowsy for +their mid-day rest, and covered them over with their own, he sat with +his head between his hands, his eyes closed, wishing he were not so +stupid, wishing he could only think of something to do; for in reality +he was quite wearied out. If the others did not come! Of course they +might come at any moment; and yet the moments passed to minutes, the +minutes to hours, while the children slept in the sunshine, and Roy felt +that he was a fool.</p> + +<p>And then something cold touched his hand. He opened his eyes and saw +that it was Tumbu's nose; Tumbu, who had something strange in his +mouth—something like a rabbit and yet like a squirrel!</p> + +<p>In reality it was a fresh-killed young marmot, an animal that lives amid +the snow and ice and rocks of the very highest hills. Tumbu, having +handed over charge of the children, must have gone off on his own +hunting, found a colony of the quaint creatures, and, as usual, brought +home his bag! Roy did not in the least know what the marmot was, but he +saw it was something to eat! The relief was too much for him!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> Here, at +least, was supper. He flung his arms round Tumbu's neck and burst into +tears, murmuring with choking sobs that he, Roy, had been foolish, but +Tumbu was a wise, wise, good doggie. And so he was!</p> + +<p>After this Roy felt better, and having, as all Indian boys used to have +in those days, a flint and steel with him, began to look around for fuel +with which to light a fire and cook the supper. There were, of course, +no trees and no bushes; but right away at the farther end of the long +valley there were some patches of very dark green. They did not look +promising, but he would go and see. They proved to be a creeping sort of +evergreen plant that trailed its stiff branches right on the very +ground. He picked a bit, and on trying to light it, found to his +surprise, that it blazed up in a fierce flame. For it was juniper, and +so full of resin.</p> + +<p>He now had the possibility of fire, so that evening the little cup in +the hills held quite comfortable encampment.</p> + +<p>Roy had brought down the sledge, and using the swords and their +scabbards as supports, had made a lean-to tent against a warm rock out +of the strip of shawl. In this he had strewn juniper branches to make a +soft bed, and the children could just creep into it. Then they had the +marmot, roasted in its skin, for supper, and all the three were too +hungry to ask themselves if marmot flesh was as toothsome as rabbit or +as bitter as squirrel! And Tumbu ate the bones<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> with an air as if he +would say, "It is not bad, but to-morrow I must catch two marmots."</p> + +<p>After that there was peace and quiet in the camp, Roy sitting beside the +fire and making it blaze up every now and again by putting on a fresh +juniper branch. For he knew that since the others had not arrived by +daylight, they must either all have perished on the road or else be +waiting until the cold of night once more froze the ice-film on the +snow. In this case the firelight seen from afar might be a guide.</p> + +<p>So the night passed. More than once Roy fell asleep, for despite his +care the smoke of the juniper branches could not quite be avoided, and +that, every one knows, is terribly sleepifying. He woke every time, +however, before the fire was quite out, and hastened to send up a flare +of flame. As he did so the last time it was answered by a <i>hulloo</i> from +the rocks above, and shortly afterward Meroo, the scullion's, blubbering +voice could be heard as he uttered thanks to Heaven.</p> + +<p>"And the others?" asked Roy anxiously, as out of the darkness Meroo +appeared and cast himself at the lad's feet, bellowing joy.</p> + +<p>"They come, they come! They are but a short way back. I saw the fire, +and the sight of it warmed the cockles of my heart! Lo! I shall cook +once more! I shall not die hungry in the wilderness. Nay! go not," for +Roy was starting up. "True! the women are nigh<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> dead, and Foster-father +hath his fingers frost-bitten, but—nay, put more flame to the fire, +boy! It is the fire they need!"</p> + +<p>He was half beside himself, but he was right. As the fresh juniper +branches blazed up Head-nurse came tottering and stumbling into its +light. Roy sprang to help her, but she pushed him aside.</p> + +<p>"The Heir-to-Empire?" she muttered, her lips almost refusing to form the +words. "The Heir-to-Empire, the Admired-of-the-World——"</p> + +<p>Roy pointed to the little tent. "There! Safe! Well! Asleep!" he cried; +and the poor woman with a sob sank as she stood, and lay prone muttering +long strings of titles.</p> + +<p>Before a minute had passed Foster-father and Foster-mother struggled +into the circle of light, and after a word of question and reply, sank +down also.</p> + +<p>Then there was a long pause, but no sign came of good Old Faithful's +tall, gaunt figure. At last Roy spoke.</p> + +<p>"Faithful?" he asked in a low whisper. "What of him?"</p> + +<p>There was no answer at first; only Foster-father covered his face with +his hands. At last he spoke gently.</p> + +<p>"He was faithful to death. He was going first, as ever, cheering us all +with his sayings of Firdoos Gita Makâni. I saw him there one moment +turning to tell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> us words of wisdom—the next the snow bridge had given +way beneath his feet and he was gone. We waited on the bank of the awful +chasm for a long time, but there was no sound save the roaring of the +stream below. Firdoos Gita Makâni, his master, had called him. Peace be +with them both!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h2>DEAREST-LADY</h2> + + +<p>For two whole days the little party was too weary even to attempt a +move. They had some provisions with them, and Tumbu, as good as his +word, brought in more and more marmots; for being unaccustomed to dogs, +they were easily caught.</p> + +<p>The death of Old Faithful weighed upon the spirits of all, and for the +first twelve hours or so the Heir-to-Empire was inconsolable for the +loss of his beloved cat; for Foster-father had found it impossible to +carry Down farther, and she had remained behind in the snow, protesting +piteously. It was a terrible grief, and the child had almost wept +himself sick, when, to every one's surprise and delight, Mistress Down +was seen walking sedately across the flowers, her bushy tail carried +very high, not one hair of her silky white coat awry. She took no notice +of anybody, but passed to the fire, sat down beside it with stiff +dignity, curled her tail round her paws, yawned and then began to purr +gently. It was as if nothing had happened. And she certainly was not +hungry, for she turned up her dainty nose at Tumbu's marmot bones.</p> + +<p>"Cats," said Head-nurse, who had just awakened from a long sleep of many +hours, "are not to be counted as other beasts. Having nine lives, they +could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> afford to lose one; but they never do. They always fall on their +feet. It is the way of the world; the more you have the more you get. +Still, I am glad she has returned; and I wish there were a chance of +others turning up also," she added with a sigh.</p> + +<p>The Heir-to-Empire looked up gravely. "But Faithful can't come back, you +know. He went to help Grand-dad to help us."</p> + +<p>"Hark to the innocent," cried Foster-mother, half in smiles, half in +tears, "but it is true. If ever poor mortals were watched over by saints +in Paradise, we were; and for my part if ever I get to Kâbul, my duty +shall be paid to the tomb of Firdoos Gita Makâni—on whom be peace."</p> + +<p>"Amen!" added her husband devoutly; "but for the memory of that good man +we should not be here now."</p> + +<p>It was on the third day that leaving Meroo in charge for a few hours +Foster-father and Roy set off to explore. They were fortunate in finding +some shepherds' huts within a walking distance for even footsore women, +and returned ere nightfall with a skin bag of fresh milk.</p> + +<p>Early next morning, therefore, they all set off, Roy girding on dead +Faithful's sword from the sledge that was wanted no more, and from that +moment feeling himself indeed bodyguard to the Heir-to-Empire.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p> + +<p>Once they had reached safety from starvation in the shepherds' huts, a +great desire for rest came upon them all; and for three whole days they +did nothing but eat, and sleep, and rejoice in the early spring +sunshine, and the early spring flowers. For the late snap of extreme +cold had passed and every green thing was hurrying to be ahead of its +neighbour. Bija made endless cowslip balls out of the beautiful +rose-pink primulas, while Roy and Mirak, following the shepherds' boys, +came back with their hands full of young rhubarb shoots and green fern +croziers, which they ate like asparagus. But this sort of thing could +not last long, since they were close to the caravan route from Kandahâr +to Kâbul; and sure enough, no sooner had the snow on the uplands melted +than travellers began to pass through.</p> + +<p>Thus news that the little party had escaped death soon filtered from +mouth to mouth, till it reached the Captain of the Escort, and ere long +Foster-father found himself and those in his care once more +semi-prisoners on their way to cruel brother Kumran; all the more cruel, +doubtless, because King Humâyon had already begun the siege of Kandahâr, +believing his little son to be still within its walls.</p> + +<p>Now Kumran was a far cleverer fellow than his brother Askurry; but there +was in him a love of deceit for deceit's sake, which spoiled all his +cleverness, for it made him uncertain what he would do in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> end. This +indeed is always the case with deceitful people. They know that what +they say and do is <i>not</i> straightforward and true, and so they are like +sailors without a compass. They have no fixed pole by which to steer.</p> + +<p>And, in addition, Kumran liked to be considered clever; so he was always +outwardly very courteous, very polite, very charming; but what he was +within none could say for long.</p> + +<p>Thus Foster-father's heart sank within him, when in the distance, down +the rocky ravine through which the Kâbul River dashes, and along which +the caravan road took its high-perched way, he saw the battlemented wall +of the city, cresting the low hills on which the town was built. It was +a fully fortified town through which the river ran, and at its extreme +end, commanding the wider plain below, stood the citadel called the Bala +Hissar or High Fort. To reach this the travellers had to cross the iron +bridge and wend their way through the narrow bazaars.</p> + +<p>Such wonderful bazaars as they were, too! Crowded with tiny dark arched +shops, like caverns, full to the brim with Persian silk carpets, furs +from the north, turquoises and all kinds of precious stones from +out-of-the-way places with unpronounceable names. And there were such a +quantity of cats! Grey Persian cats and white ones, and tabbies and +black cats who sat on the balconies and stared at Down as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> she lay on +Horse-chestnut's broad, wavy back. For the Captain of the Escort had +found out what an excellent creature the old pony was, and had brought +it along with him.</p> + +<p>The High Fort was a huge place with great gardens within its battlements +and several separate palaces. Here, to Foster-father's unbounded +delight, they found that Prince Kumran was himself away, having gone out +with a small body of men to the Kandahâr frontier, where King Humâyon's +arrival had aroused loyalty. But what was still more cheering was the +news that he had left orders for the Heir-to-Empire and his sister to be +handed over on arrival to the charge of Dearest-Lady! Foster-father +could hardly believe his ears; for Dearest-Lady (as she was always +called by all her family, by all her nephews and nieces, by all her +grand nephews and nieces, and cousins, and every one who was lucky +enough to belong to her) was simply—Well! what was she not? Wise, and +gentle, and good, and clever—all this and more. She was the sort of +Dearest-Lady who lived so long in the hearts of those who knew her, +that, years after she was dead they would say, if there was any +difficult point to be settled—"We wonder what Dearest-Lady would have +said?"</p> + +<p>She was old, of course, for she was Babar the Brave's elder sister; the +sister to whom he had been devoted, who had always been to him also "his +Dear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>est-One." Now, when you come to think of it, boys and girls, that +is a nice sort of fame to have—to remain for—let me see how many +hundred years?—nearly four—Dearest-Lady, or Dearest-Gentleman to all +the world.</p> + +<p>This Dearest-Lady was, of course, the Heir-to-Empire's grand-aunt, and +the mere sound of her name was enough to calm Foster-father's fears. +Even Head-nurse, though she sniffed a little and said she had heard tell +that the Khânzâda Khânum was a trifle careless of ceremonials, was +satisfied. There was no doubt that she was the Highest-Born-in-the-Land.</p> + +<p>As for little Prince Akbar himself, he only opened his big, grave eyes +widely when the tall white figure clasped him closely in its arms and +kissed his hair softly.</p> + +<p>"So like his grandfather," she murmured, "so like! so like!—the very +hands, the very feet—so strong, so shapely." And both in turn felt the +touch of the soft old lips. "And thou, too, small maiden," she continued +kindly, "welcome to one who has never yet let it be said in her hearing +that God made women weaker than man! Thou shalt learn here to be proud +thou wast born a girl. And you also, Nurse! Bring cooling sherbets, +slaves, while she tells me all that has happened."</p> + +<p>Then she sat and listened while Head-nurse told the tale of what had +happened, and her faded, gay,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> old face flashed and sparkled and grew +grave by turns.</p> + +<p>"But where is Tumbu?" she interrupted, "and where is Down? Bring them +hither, slaves! Lo! I love all animals, as my dear brother did!"</p> + +<p>And she laughed over their doings, and wept over Old Faithful's death, +while Bija and Mirak sat cuddled up close beside her, listening also and +enjoying the tale of their own adventures as if they had happened to +other children!</p> + +<p>"Surely," she said softly when Head-nurse ended, "my dearest brother—on +whom be peace—must have protected them! Lo! Mirak! and Bija—for I +shall call you naught else since they are sweet kindly names, better +than fine sounding titles—this very afternoon ye shall come with me to +the garden he loved, and where his earthly form lies at rest, and lay +flowers on his grave for thanks. Since he loved flowers as he loved +everything."</p> + +<p>So that evening, about an hour before sunset time, they were all carried +in litters to the Garden of the New Year, about a mile beyond the city. +It was a most peaceful, lovely spot, right up on the hillside with a +splendid view from it of valley and mountain and river. A fresh bubbling +spring ran through it, and beneath the Judas trees, whose leafless +branches were flushed with pink blossoms, stretched great carpets of +spring flowers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Pluck him yonder tulips, Mirak," said Dearest-Lady with a smile. "He +loved to count their kinds and those—as he wrote—are 'yellow, double, +and scented like a rose'!"</p> + +<p>And the boy who was to grow to be a greater man even than his +grandfather, though he could scarcely be a more lovable one, plucked a +posy of the tulips and laid them on the plain marble slab which bore +nothing but the words, "Heaven is the eternal home of the Emperor +Babar." And when Bija, with many a little feminine ceremonial, had +deposited her nosegay of sweet violets, and Head-nurse and Foster-mother +had offered up their respects, they all went and sat down on a grassy +spot, and Dearest-Lady, who was always full of youthful curiosities +concerning all things, began to question Roy, who as a mere lad had been +allowed to come with them, as to what he could remember of the time +before he was picked up in the desert.</p> + +<p>"Hold my hand, child, and think," she said at last, "mayhap it may come +to thee then. The touch of kinship has power, and if I do not mistake +me, there is that in thy blood that is in mine—royalty!"</p> + +<p>So she clasped Roy's slim long-fingered hand and held it tight, and the +boy's face changed, his eyes grew startled, he shivered slightly.</p> + +<p>"Yea!" he said, "now I do remember. Mother was like you, and she told me +I had the mark of Kingship<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> strong enough, for all the rebels might +say—" As he spoke, he drew down his loose garments, and there upon the +clear olive of his breast, just above the heart, showed a small dark +stain.</p> + +<p>Dearest-Lady bent close to look at it. "What is't?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Mother said it was the sign of uttermost truth, and that we all had +it," he replied, speaking dreamily.</p> + +<p>"But who were we?" persisted Dearest-Lady, her kind eyes on the lad's.</p> + +<p>Just at that moment, however, Tumbu, who had, of course, accompanied +them, burst out with a series of shrill, short barks, and Roy was on his +feet in a second, his hand on Old Faithful's sword, lest any newcomer +might bring danger to his little master. But as it turned out Tumbu was +only excited by a water-rat! All the same the interruption prevented +Dearest-Lady's question from being answered, for the spell was broken.</p> + +<p>"Yea! thou wilt be true to the very uttermost, of that I am sure," said +Dearest-Lady, half pleased, half amused at the young Râjput's quick leap +to arms, "and so long as I have charge of the Heir-to-Empire thou shalt +be his esquire. So go call the litter-men, boy, it is time we returned. +I must remember I am gaoler as well as grand-aunt."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h2>CRUEL BROTHER KUMRAN</h2> + + +<p>If Dearest-Lady was in truth a gaoler, she was a very kind one, and her +prison the pleasantest prison in the world. It would take too long to +tell how happily the next four months passed, not only for the two +children, but for Roy and Foster-father, Head-nurse and Foster-mother. +Even misshapen Meroo, in the kitchen, felt the better for helping to +cook the Khânzâda Khânum's dinner. For that was one of Dearest-Lady's +virtues, she always made people feel contented, and as if they were +doing the right thing. So even Prince Kumran, when he returned to Kâbul, +though he frowned at the big, bold, frank-faced boy who claimed to be +the Heir-to-an-Empire which his own fingers itched to have, did not feel +inclined to interfere with his aunt. The truth being that, like the rest +of the family, he loved and trusted her beyond measure; perhaps more +than did any of his brothers, since she had brought him up as a child. +And she, in her turn, though she knew his faults, though she not only +bewailed them, but resented them, at times most fiercely, could not +forget that he had been her nursling, could not forget, above all, that +he was her dear brother Babar's son.</p> + +<p>Thus all went smoothly in the Bala Hissar, where<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> young Prince Akbar, +now close on three years old, looked and talked and acted like one of +six. This same strength of his was always getting him into scrapes with +people who did not believe he was so young, or, knowing him to be so +young, did not believe him to be so strong!</p> + +<p>He played a similar trick to the one he had played on cousin Yakoob at +Kandahâr on his big cousin Ibrahim, Prince Kumran's son. It was about a +fine kettledrum all tasselled in royal fashion, with gold and silver, +that Ibrahim's father had given him. Being a selfish boy, he would not +allow Akbar to touch it; whereupon the Heir-to-Empire, after a brief +tussle, carried off the kettledrum and beat it loudly through the +palace!</p> + +<p>Kumran hearing of this was very angry, for the beating of a kettledrum +is a sign of Empire.</p> + +<p>"Keep that young fighting cock of thine in better order, madam," he said +to his aunt, "or I shall have to find him a sterner gaoler."</p> + +<p>Whereupon she flashed out and told him fairly that short of killing the +child, and for that crime even <i>he</i> was not prepared, there was no way +of preventing the Heir-to-Empire from being what he was, a born king. +That was her way of quelling Kumran. By boldly setting aside the thought +of murder as impossible, she hoped to make it so; but she was not sure, +and after this she kept Mirak and Bija under control.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was not much good, however, when just as autumn was coming on news +arrived from Kandahâr that Humâyon had at last succeeded in taking the +city, and, disappointed in not finding his son in the palace, was +preparing to march on Kâbul.</p> + +<p>Then the worst side of Prince Kumran showed itself at once. Like all +deceitful people, he was a coward at heart, and cowardice made him think +of immediate revenge upon his victorious brother. Of what use would even +two victories be to him if the Heir-to-Empire was beyond recall?</p> + +<p>So Kumran's charming polished manner vanished in an instant, and one +day, without any warning, little Mirak, playing in the garden, was +kidnapped by two stalwart Abyssinian slaves and carried off, howling +horribly and fighting with his fists, to the palace where Kumran's wife +lived. Tumbu, who was with him at the time, made a gallant show of +resistance, and actually bit one of the kidnapper's calves to the bone; +but when he found himself confronted with a whole regiment of armed men +who ran out to their assistance, he gave up the hopeless fight, and flew +off to tell Roy what had happened. And Roy, missing his little master, +fled to tell Dearest-Lady. Her face paled, but she did not hesitate.</p> + +<p>"My litter! page!" she cried, and drawing her white veil closer round +her, she went straight to the audience hall, where Kumran was receiving +his nobles; her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> great age, her great nobility, giving her a right, even +as a woman, to appear amongst them.</p> + +<p>All eyes turned to her tall, upright, slim figure, every ear thrilled to +the tones of her clear voice.</p> + +<p>"By what right," she asked, "has Kumran, the nephew I have nurtured, +stolen from my care the son of his elder brother, the Heir to that +Empire which Babar the Brave gave, dying, into the hands of Humâyon, his +eldest son? I say there can be no right; and if it be wrong then will +God's curse light on the man who undoes his father's work. Lo! he is +worse than parricide, for he would kill that for which his father gave +his life."</p> + +<p>Now this appeal was a very strong one; for the story of how Babar the +Brave gave up his own life to save that of his darling son, Humâyon, is +one of the most touching tales in Indian history, and none of Babar's +immediate family could even think of it without strong emotion. So it +was Kumran's turn to grow pale.</p> + +<p>"August lady," he replied, evading her question, "this is a matter of +policy with which women have naught to do. King Humâyon hath taken +Kandahâr, he hath imprisoned and degraded his brother Askurry, and for +this, I, Kumran, challenge him!"</p> + +<p>"And wherefore?" asked Dearest-Lady boldly. "Did not Askurry deserve it? +Nay! did he not de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>serve death? Did he not steal the King-of-Empire? Did +he not defy the king? Did he not send the Heir-to-Empire away, instead +of returning him to his father's keeping? I tell you, nephew Kumran, +that your father, Babar the Brave, Babar the Kindly, Babar the Generous, +Babar the Just, whom all men loved for his mercy, would have given +<i>death</i> for such faults—and given it rightly. And will you, like a +fool, court death also?" She looked round the assembly to see many a +sullen, suspicious face, and understood that danger lay close at hand. +So her resolution was taken in a moment. "See you!" she went on, +"nothing has been done yet to make forgiveness impossible. Well! +I—Khânzâda Khânum,—old as I am, will go forth to meet King Humâyon and +plead thy cause. I will ask what boon you wish, and I promise it shall +be yours. Humâyon will give much in exchange for his son, and none have +ever denied me anything. Shall it be so?" Then seeing hesitation she put +in a crafty word: "There will be time afterwards for—anything——"</p> + +<p>Kumran looked round his nobles, then into his own heart. What he saw +there was such a tissue of lies and deceit that he could find no clear +decision; so, as usual, he temporised. "It is worth a trial," he +murmured. "I might ask for much."</p> + +<p>"Ask for all and everything," said Dearest-Lady, who felt she had gained +her point; "I make but one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> condition. The child must remain unharmed +until I return."</p> + +<p>Again Kumran hesitated. Again he looked in his own heart. Again he found +no clear cause for decision there; so he said doubtfully:</p> + +<p>"Until you return?"</p> + +<p>"Nay! swear it," came the high, insistent voice. "Say before them all, +'By the memory of my dear father no harm shall come to the child ere you +return.'"</p> + +<p>Half unwillingly Kumran repeated the words and Dearest-Lady gave a sigh +of relief. She had gained her point. But now that she had to face the +consequences of her offer to go forth and meet Humâyon her heart sank +within her; for she was very old and not over strong. The journey was +long; winter was coming on fast. Still it had to be done, and at once. +For Kumran's promise of safety to the Heir-to-Empire was only <i>during +her absence</i>, and who knew whether his craft might not claim freedom to +do as he chose ere she started!</p> + +<p>So she made her arrangements for that very evening, and she had much to +do. To begin with she must see the Heir-to-Empire the very last thing, +and make certain that he was well cared for. Then she had to arrange for +the safety and comfort of Head-nurse, Foster-mother and little Bija, for +it was unlikely they would be allowed to be with the little Prince. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> +must, however, have some one with him to whom the child was accustomed, +and Roy, being still quite a lad, might not be considered dangerous. +Then his gift of story-telling might make the ladies in the women's +apartments more inclined to have him. Anyhow she must try her best to +secure his stopping with his young master, and to this end she ordered +him some fine clothes and gave him a finely bedizened lute; for since he +came to Kâbul they had found out that he could play the <i>vina</i> +beautifully.</p> + +<p>Thus just before sunsetting, leaving poor Head-nurse and Foster-mother +in floods of tears, while poor little Bija was sobbing her very heart +out, and good dog Tumbu was slowly wagging his tail as his eyes asked +sorrowfully if he might not come, too, she started on her journey, going +round by the Chief Palace on her way.</p> + +<p>Now, Dearest-Lady's visits were considered to be an honour, so she had +no difficulty in gaining admittance. And once inside the women's +apartments she simply turned to the first attendant and said curtly that +she had come to see the Heir-to-Empire and say farewell to him; +therefore he must either be brought to her or she must go to him. +Boldness succeeded, as it always does, and she was shown into a room +where she found little Prince Akbar playing contentedly with Down the +cat, who was running about after a ball like a young kitten. She stopped +when she saw Dearest-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>Lady, and giving an apologetic <i>miaow</i>, as who +should say, "I was obliged to amuse him somehow," settled herself down +on the rug and began as usual to purr. Of course Mirak forgot all about +her in his joy at seeing Dearest-Lady and Roy, and it was some time +before the former could ask the attendant how the cat had managed to get +there.</p> + +<p>"Highness," said the woman, "it is impossible to keep cats out if they +want to come in. She appeared at the window three times, and three times +I put her downstairs. Then I gave in. It is no use quarrelling with +cats."</p> + +<p>Meanwhile notice of Her Highness Dearest-Lady's arrival had reached +Kumran's wife and she hastened to little Akbar's prison room. But once +more Dearest-Lady was bold and took the first word.</p> + +<p>"I came to bid the boy farewell, content to trust him to thy kind care, +my niece," she said; "and also to leave with him this Râjput singer, who +has the art of amusing the child—and other folk also. Roy! sing us one +of thy tales, that the Princess may hear thee."</p> + +<p>And Roy, knowing his part, sang as he had never sung before. "I will +sing of how the palm squirrels helped the Great Râm to find his wife, +Sita the Peerless, whom the wicked Giant Râvana had carried off. We sing +it to the squirrels when we feed them in our country. Perhaps Her +Highness does not know what a palm squirrel is. It is tiny, tiny, no +bigger than a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> rat, but it has a bushy tail and four dark stripes like +finger marks down its goldy-coloured back. And it never does anything +but play, is never anything but happy; and this is why":</p> + +<p>Then he smote the strings of the <i>vina</i> till they thrilled again, and +began, his high voice warbling and carolling like a summer bird.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Pretty! Pretty! Pretty! are you there, my sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In your leafy seat, where the branches meet?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wasting all the sunny hours<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pulling down the mango flowers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With your dainty feet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Pretty, prettiest thing yawning as you lie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Watching with glad eye, busy life go by.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not the tiniest sense of duty<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In your careless days, my beauty,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Neath the cloudless sky.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Happiest, merriest ways,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knowing no gainsays, so the story says,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since the Great Râm loved and blessed you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With his care-worn hand caressed you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the olden days.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then, when he was seeking Sita, peerless maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By his foes dismayed, Râm, her lover, bade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the beasts and birds and fishes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leave their play to do his wishes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fight to give him aid.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And the golden squirrel sprang at his behest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nestled to his breast, first to join the quest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Great Râm's grave eyes grew tender,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smiled upon the warrior slender,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Braver than the rest!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Nay! thou art too pretty! fearless little heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou should'st have no part in Strife's bitter art;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Live to show man, worn and weary,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One blythe soul for ever cheery,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Free from sorrow's smart.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Laid his kind hand softly on its golden hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So palm squirrels bear, where Râm's fingers were,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Four dark shadows on them, showing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gladdest life must lose its glowing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the touch of care.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"So the squirrels' birthright is to want for naught,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have no grief or thought, know not 'must' or 'ought.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet upon their gold there lingers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shades of care, that Great Râm's fingers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For their blessing wrought."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"<i>Wah! Wah!</i>" cried the Queen, delighted. "He can stop if he likes."</p> + +<p>Ten minutes after Roy had finished his song Dearest-Lady's litter paused +for a moment on a high-perched corner of the road towards Kandahâr, to +give her a last look of the fair city of Kâbul. Her bright old face was +bright still, undimmed by care. She was old and frail, she was going a +wearisome, trying jour<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span>ney; yet, for the present, she knew that she had +saved the Heir-to-Empire's life. That at any rate was secure until she +returned—and she might never return! The thought made her smile. +"Forward, slaves!" she cried cheerfully, and Kâbul, the city she loved +so well, was left behind without one regret.</p> + +<p>And she was right. She had saved the Heir-to-Empire's life; for at that +very minute the door of little Prince Akbar's room opened wide, and Roy +starting up found himself face to face with cruel Uncle Kumran followed +by two men with drawn swords. And, alas for Roy! he had no sword to +draw, for Old Faithful's sabre did not fit the disguise of a Râjput +bard. Despite that, he stepped forward boldly, though his heart beat to +suffocation. For Kumran's face was cruel indeed.</p> + +<p>Still, for one second, the latter's attention was distracted. He had +wanted no witnesses to what he meant to do.</p> + +<p>"How camest thou hither, slave?" he asked fiercely.</p> + +<p>And Roy gave him back the simple truth, no more, no less; but it was +sufficient.</p> + +<p>"Her Highness Khânzâda Khânum brought me hither to be with the +Heir-to-Empire ere she left at sunset."</p> + +<p>Kumran started back. "Left? Hath she left already?" he asked, his face +paling. So he stood for a moment irresolute, the words of his own oath +pealing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> through his brain, "By the memory of my father I promise." That +was not one which any son of Babar's was ever likely to break. "Sheath +your swords, fools!" he said at last bitterly; "they are not needed. I +am not the first man who has been outwitted by a woman."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h2>IMPRISONMENT</h2> + + +<p>But if Kumran was let and hindered by his oath from actually killing the +Heir-to-Empire in cold blood, or, in lesser degree, from treating him so +harshly that he might die, he did not feel so bound towards the others; +and being cruel by nature, he set to work upon them at once. +Foster-father he sent to the State prison, which was down a well in the +big courtyard. There were two of these prison-wells, in which the water +was reached by a flight of steep steps, and where dark, underground +cells opened on to the deep silent pool. They were terribly damp, but +here poor Foster-father had to drag out long, miserable days, cut off +even from news of the others. Until one day, just when the sentry was +eating his mid-day meal, he heard a violent barking, and by swinging +himself up by the bars of the tiny shaft of the well he could just get a +glimpse of Tumbu on the steps. Why had he come? Perhaps he had been +sent; if so he would come again at the same time. All that night +Foster-father lay awake, feverishly wondering what Tumbu had meant, and +all the next morning, having no means of telling the time, he waited and +waited anxiously, until, just as he was beginning to give up hope, the +familiar bark echoed down the well, and there was good old Tumbu<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> on the +steps! So he must have been sent by some one; and therefore some one +must be alive and desire him to know the fact.</p> + +<p>In truth, both his wife, Foster-mother, and Head-nurse had been racking +their brains how to find out where either the Heir-to-Empire or +Foster-father were imprisoned until little Bija had said, "Tell Tumbu to +seek for them. If you show him Mirak's cap and say, 'Go seek,' he will +go."</p> + +<p>And so he did; but it was a long, long time before he found out where +Mirak had hidden himself, for he had gone to the big palace in a litter, +and so had left no trace. Then little Bija came to the rescue once more.</p> + +<p>"You say, Foster-mother, that you feel sure that Down must have gone +away to keep Mirak company. Now she <i>can't</i> be prisoned, 'cos cats won't +be caught unless they want to be caught, and she doesn't want to be, <i>of +course</i>. So she must be going about, so why don't you tell Tumbu to seek +for Down; then we should find where Mirak was."</p> + +<p>"But we haven't got anything of Down's to show him," argued +Foster-mother. And that was a puzzler.</p> + +<p>At last Head-nurse said, "I believe all cats have the same smell, else +why do all dogs go after all cats? At any rate, it would be worth +trying."</p> + +<p>So they got a fine, large, handsome white cat in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> bazaar, and said +to Tumbu, "Go seek!" And then there was the most awful scrimmage that +ever was seen. Tumbu was after the cat in a second, and the cat jumped +for protection on Head-nurse, and Head-nurse howled, while Tumbu +deafened everybody by yowls; for the cat had caught him on the nose! +Peace was not restored till pussy had made her escape back to the bazaar +through the window.</p> + +<p>"That was not a success," sighed poor Head-nurse as she put herself +tidy; but after all it was not such a failure, since, either from +putting two and two together, or by mere chance, Tumbu appeared the very +next day barking and frolicking after his usual fashion when he wanted +them to go out, and then led them straight to a lonely corner of the +palace garden, whence, looking upwards, they could plainly see Down +seated on a narrow window sill. And the next moment, hearing the +familiar bark, who should pop his head out of the window but Roy!</p> + +<p>"All's well," he whispered rapidly seeing them below him; then withdrew +his head swiftly. For he had determined never by anything or in any way +to risk being sent away from the little Heir-to-Empire.</p> + +<p>But the others were more than satisfied with the whisper.</p> + +<p>"Now," said little Bija, who was beginning to manage her nurses, "Tumbu +must find Foster-father and tell <i>him</i>." And this, we have seen, he +did.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> + +<p>Even so, with the daily content of knowing that all were at least safe, +the time passed with deadly slowness, for the days grew to weeks, the +weeks to months, bringing no change. Denied, as he was, the outdoor +life, the fresh air to which he had been accustomed, little Prince Akbar +grew pale and thin. But his spirits did not flag, and he would laugh +over the tale of how Râjah Rasâlu swung the Seventy Maidens as heartily +as ever, though sometimes his little lip would go down and he would say, +"If Bija were only here I'd never ask her to tumble down. I would go on +swinging till she wanted me to stop."</p> + +<p>So the winter came on, but still Dearest-Lady did not return. A letter +had come from her saying she had reached Kandahâr in safety—that she +was staying in the Kâr Garden outside the town which her father had +planted—that King Humâyon was not angry—that he had already forgiven +Prince Askurry—that Kumran had nothing to fear if he only kept to his +promise.</p> + +<p>The prisoners, of course, knew nothing of this letter, but the effect of +it showed in a greater freedom. Foster-father was moved to a more +comfortable dungeon and Bija, Head-nurse and Foster-mother were allowed +to go and see the Heir-to-Empire. Their delight may be imagined, and +even Tumbu shared in the joy, for, when he was refused admittance and +left down below, he dashed up the stairs, evading<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> the sentries and +barked furiously at the door to be let in. And the meeting between him +and Mirak was so pretty that the sentry had not the heart to insist on +poor doggie going down again. And this, in its way, was a good thing, +for it was the beginning of a sort of friendship between the young +Prince and this particular Afghan sentry. Sometimes, after he had been +relieved, he would come up to the little captive's room for a bit, and +listen to Roy's stories, or tell a few in his turn; for he had wandered +about, over half India, giving the use of his sword to any one who would +pay him well for it.</p> + +<p>"Lo! I have not heard that tale since I was in Râjputana!" he said one +day after Roy had been singing an old-world legend of fighting days. "It +was an old Brahman of Suryâmer told it me of the Sun-Heroes."</p> + +<p>Roy's face flushed up in a second. "Suryâmer is mine!" he said proudly; +"I am of the Sun-Heroes!"</p> + +<p>Then he started to his feet, pale as ashes. "I have remembered! I have +remembered at last," he said almost with a cry. "It is true! I was Râjah +of Suryâmer! It has come back to me at last!"</p> + +<p>Then as suddenly he crouched down again and covered his face with both +hands.</p> + +<p>"Roy!" said little Prince Akbar gravely. "Why should you cry because you +are a King? I don't."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span></p> + +<p>The sentry laughed. "By my word," he remarked, "there is a blessed pair +of you Kings!"</p> + +<p>"Of course there is," assented the Heir-to-Empire with the greatest +dignity. "I have been one ever since I was born, and I always knew Roy +belonged to me!" Then in quick impulse he ran over to the Râjput lad and +flung his arms round his neck crying, "Oh Roy! Roy! I'm so glad you are +my brother!"</p> + +<p>"Not so fast, young sir," objected the sentry, who was hugely amused and +interested; "what proof can you bring of this, stripling?"</p> + +<p>Roy lifted a scared face; then hung his head.</p> + +<p>"None, save my memory, and this mark upon my breast. My mother said we +all had the stamp of truth over our hearts."</p> + +<p>The sentry shrugged his shoulders. "That is not much in this wicked +world," he said carelessly. "And anyhow it matters little if either or +both of you be Kings, since ye are in cruel Kumran's power."</p> + +<p>"Not till my Dearest-Lady returns," dissented little Akbar gravely. +"Head-nurse said so; and if cruel Uncle Kumran is to get me, +Dearest-Lady <i>won't</i> come back. I <i>know</i> she won't—so there!"</p> + +<p>And, as events turned out, the Heir-to-Empire was right!</p> + +<p>But a few days afterwards a messenger, bearing a blue handkerchief in +his hand—the sign of death tidings to the Royal Family—appeared in +hot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> haste before the nobles assembled in the Audience Hall.</p> + +<p>"News! News!" he cried breathlessly. "Cover your heads with dust, ye +people, while ye thank the Merciful One that Khânzâda Khânum of the +House of Babar hath found freedom, that after a long and godly life she +hath found rest and peace. Bismillah—ul——"</p> + +<p>The long Arabic sentence went rolling through the Hall, while Kumran +stood stunned by the suddenness of his aunt's death. And yet it might +have been expected; the journey was far too trying for one of her years. +And she had risked it—for what?</p> + +<p>With a rush Kumran realised that his promise still held good, and for +the moment disappointment, anger, savage desire for revenge swept away +his regret. Yet even he could not fail to be touched by the letter his +brother Humâyon had sent him by the hand of the messenger. Dearest-Lady +had, he said, pled his, Kumran's, cause well, and he, Humâyon, was ready +to forgive for the sake of the dead woman who had loved them both, whom +they both loved, and who had died with a smile.</p> + +<p>But such softer feelings did not, could not linger long in a mind that +had no fixed belief in anything. Before a day had passed the feeling +that he had been tricked onto an oath he dared not break came uppermost +again. Foster-father was ordered back to his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> damp dungeon, the little +Heir-to-Empire and Roy were taken from the Palace and given over to the +charge of a man noted for his hardness of heart. Only the women and +little Bija, being of no account, were turned out into the streets to +beg or starve as they chose.</p> + +<p>Then followed a terrible month in which the little party were cut off +from news of one another. Only Down, the cat, wandering over roofs and +Heaven knows where and how, looked in here and there to settle on some +one's lap and purr.</p> + +<p>"Cats," said poor Head-nurse, as she sat opposite Foster-mother, +grinding for all they were worth at a stone hand-mill in order to gain +enough to keep Bija from starving, "are of all God's creatures the most +contented; and so little pleases them. Hark! to Down how she purrs, just +because she has found us poor miserable women."</p> + +<p>"Allah!" replied Foster-mother more cheerfully. "Is love such a little +thing? I think not, and Down hath seen my darling. Of that I feel sure; +she would not come and purr otherwise."</p> + +<p>Still it was silent comfort and there was so much going on; so much that +even the "miserable women" could not hear, though they were free to come +and go. But one day when Down was purring on Bija's lap in the straw +thatch which was all the three had for lodging, a passer-by paused to +say:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That is the cat I used to see with the little King. Have you ought to +do with him, sister?"</p> + +<p>"I <i>am</i> his sister," replied Bija haughtily, whereat the sentry, for it +was he, laughed; but for all that he paused to tell the two women what +he knew; though that was not much. It could not be long, however, he +said, before news of one sort or another came to them; for King Humâyon +was, so they said, within a day's march of Kâbul, and any time they +might hear the guns begin. Then would be his turn. He would fight till +all was blue, and then if the outsiders won, turn round and fight for +them as hardily, since all he required was plenty of fighting and plenty +of food and wine.</p> + +<p>He was right in one thing. The very next day about noon, a sudden +<i>pouf</i>—<i>bing-bing</i>—<i>thud</i>, told that the first shot had been fired. +And after that there was no peace and little safety. Only Foster-father +in his dungeon was free even from anxiety; for fever had seized on him +and he lay unconscious. And in his close prison room, where there was +little air and less light, and where Roy racked his brain for stories +wherewith to while away the leaden-footed hours, the little +Heir-to-Empire lay listless also, yet not ill. Only weary, weary.</p> + +<p>"I want Tumbu," he would say, "I want to run a race with him. I want to +be out of doors."</p> + +<p>And so while the city was alive with armed men,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> when there were +assaults and repulses and sorties and forlorn hopes going on day after +day, Roy would tell Mirak that some day something would happen. Some day +the door would open and——</p> + +<p>And one day the door did open. And a tall man stood for a second, +half-blinded by the darkness. But the next he strode forward and caught +the little Heir-to-Empire to his heart, murmuring, "My son—my little +son!"</p> + +<p><a name="illus007"></a></p> +<p class="figcenter"><img src="./images/illus007.jpg" +alt="And one day the door did open.... “My son—my little son.”" +title="And one day the door did open.... “My son—my little son.”" /></p> + +<p class="figcenter caption"><i>And one day the door did open.... "My son—my little +son."</i></p> + +<p>It was King Humâyon; for Kumran, after pleading for a few hours' truce +to allow him to make submission, had taken advantage of this breathing +time to make his escape with the more desperate of his followers. Fear +had overcome him once more. Having nothing in himself on which he could +rely, he could not trust to the generosity of his brother.</p> + +<p>So, after more than two and a half years of separation Akbar found his +father again.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h2>THE GARDEN OF GAMES</h2> + + +<p>And now, for the time at any rate, Prince Akbar's adventures were over, +and all the little party prepared to enjoy themselves. Foster-father, +taken out of his dungeon, soon recovered consciousness, and the news of +King Humâyon's victory and the Heir-to-Empire's safety, being the best +tonic in the world, he was soon about again.</p> + +<p>Head-nurse, at last absolutely restored to her proper position in Court, +found, however, that her young charge had considerably outgrown the +nursery. To begin with, his father, overjoyed at recovering his son, +could not see too much of him, and took him about with him wherever he +went.</p> + +<p>"Time enough for his education to begin when he is four," said Humâyon, +when Foster-father pointed out that the boy was old beyond his years and +that if he did not soon begin schooling it would be difficult for him +by-and-bye.</p> + +<p>"Let be—friend, let be!" continued the fond father; "let us have a +while to amuse ourselves, now the trouble is over! I tell you I have +been in such straits these last four years that I have had no time to +amuse myself. Now I mean to show Kâbul that life isn't so bad after +all!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p> + +<p>So tall, handsome, good-natured, with a vivid love of colour and beauty +and a light-heartedness almost beyond belief,—light-heartedness which +had carried him through dangers that might have proved too much for one +less gay—Humâyon set to work to lavish his money on the most +magnificent entertainments that ever were seen.</p> + +<p>So long as winter lasted these had to be held in the Bala Hissar, where +a sound of music and a ripple of laughter was to be heard day and night; +but as spring began once more to carpet the barren hills with millions +of flowers, Humâyon's amusements went further afield. One day he and his +Court, a glittering cohort of merry men, flashing with diamonds, and +prepared to enjoy everything, would ride out many miles to see the great +groves of Judas trees flushed with their pink blossoms; ride out to find +a magnificent camp awaiting them, a magnificent repast prepared, and all +the best singers and dancers in Kâbul ready to amuse them. Then the next +day, mayhap, they would all go a-hawking, and at each and all of these +diversions Humâyon's little son was part of his father's enjoyment, and +so naturally, became more and more of a man every day.</p> + +<p>He used to ride on Horse-chestnut, and Tumbu was always of the party, +getting in consequence rather too fat, by reason of the rich food which +was given him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p> + +<p>But despite all this fun and jollity little Prince Akbar was not quite +satisfied.</p> + +<p>"You took my mother away with you to the hills," he would say to his +father. "Why didn't you bring her back with you? I want to see her."</p> + +<p>Then King Humâyon would laugh—for he was always merry—and bid his +little son be patient. His mother would come with the spring. At present +she was in Persia, but so soon as the passes were open she would start +for Kâbul. And then there would be fun! Whereupon little Prince Akbar +would smile a dignified smile, and say, <i>of course</i> there would be fun!</p> + +<p>Now out of this arose a plan which came into King Humâyon's head, as so +many other plans came, without very much thought; for he was full of +kindly, not over-wise fancies. And this one was that little Prince Akbar +should choose his own mother!</p> + +<p>It would be rather a hard task for a child who had not seen her for two +years and a half, and who was but a baby of less than eighteen months +old when he had parted from her! But Humâyon was convinced that <i>his</i> +son would remember; and anyway, even if he did not, no harm would be +done and it would be very amusing. So orders were given for a huge +entertainment in the Arta Gardens just outside Kâbul. They were the most +beautiful gardens, not close cropped and orderly like English gardens, +but with wide, bare, marble-paved walks and squares, big marble-stepped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> +tanks full of waterlilies, all set in tangles of widespread roses and +jasmine and gardenia. And here Humâyon's fancy set up a Mystic Palace of +three Houses: The House of Pleasure; The House of Fortune, and the House +of Power. Never was such a beautiful Palace. By day it shone with the +reflected light of thousands and thousands of looking-glasses, by night +it rose outlined in every detail by thousands and thousands of little +lamps. Every marble path was spread with priceless silken carpets, the +very fountains were scented with attar-of-rose. All the musicians and +dancers and acrobats and jugglers of Kâbul were commanded to be there, +snow came from the higher hills to ice the drinks, and cooks worked day +and night to prepare the most wonderful dishes.</p> + +<p>"That is what I call a King," remarked the Afghan sentry, whom Roy, +going with his little master to see the preparations, found keeping +guard at the gate. "None of your skinflints like Kumran. Aye!" he +continued, seeing Roy's look of surprise and distaste, "I have done what +I said I would—fought for Kumran till there was no more fighting to be +done. And now, like His Gracious Majesty King Humâyon, I am enjoying +myself. I want no more! Ha! Ha!"</p> + +<p>Little Prince Akbar, who was standing by, turned on him sharply. "Thou +art a slave, fellow, and know nothing of Kingship. Roy and I do. In his +country<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> Kings ride and shoot and play polo, and—and do things. +Besides," he added, "I want my mother."</p> + +<p>"Your Highness will have to choose her then, so I hear," began the +sentry almost rudely, and Roy started to rebuke him, but Prince Akbar +was first.</p> + +<p>"Of course I shall choose my own mother, slave. She is quite different, +you know, from any one else in the world. Isn't she, Roy?"</p> + +<p>The Râjput lad passed his hand over his forehead. "Mine was, Most Noble! +I should know her again if I ever saw her, but I never shall."</p> + +<p>"Say not that, boy," said the sentry, who, despite his roughness, had a +kind heart and was touched by the sorrow in Roy's voice. "I have an old +comrade down Suryâmer way and I will speak to him of thee and see what +he says; then who knows but——"</p> + +<p>Little Akbar interrupted him gravely. "It is as God chooses. Roy always +says that. Don't you, Roy?"</p> + +<p>"By my word!" said the sentry, saluting, "you are a proper pair of +Kings."</p> + +<p>There were to be three days festival. On the first, that of Pleasure, +everybody was to be dressed in white, on the second day of Power all +were to be in scarlet, and on the third, the day of Fortune, the day on +which little Prince Akbar was to choose his mother, every one was to +wear green. Head-nurse and Foster-mother spent all their time in +devising wonderful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> new designs for their darling's dresses, and Humâyon +himself added many little fanciful touches, for he had a most wonderful +imagination, and this festival, which was to welcome his wife to Kâbul +and give her back her little son, occupied all his thoughts.</p> + +<p>The queen arrived on the first day, but, according to custom, in a +closed litter, and she went straight to the secluded balcony arranged +for the royal ladies, whence she could see without being seen. So she +had the advantage of her little son, who, in a magnificent costume of +white and silver, looked such a darling that Queen Humeeda longed to hug +him.</p> + +<p>"Has my Amma-<i>jân</i> come?" whispered the little Prince to his father, "is +she up there behind the lattice of roses?"</p> + +<p>"Yea! she is there sure enough, little rogue," laughed Humâyon. "So give +a good look right through the flowers."</p> + +<p>"No!" said little Akbar, "I've got to shut my eyes; then I can see her +with my other eyes."</p> + +<p>But his father was too busy directing the festival to hear what he said.</p> + +<p>So the first day passed on and everybody thought it was the very finest +entertainment that ever was seen. But the second day surpassed it. The +crowds, all in scarlet, filling the gardens, looked like bright roses +amid the green leaves, and the blare of golden trumpets, the scattering +of golden coins as <i>largesse</i>, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> stately processions of soldiers made +it, indeed, a marvellous show of power; and this was increased by the +arrival of ambassadors from the Shah of Persia, who had so much helped +King Humâyon. They brought magnificent presents and hearty +congratulations on success. So, nothing was lacking; and at night, lit +up by red fires, the scene was one never to be forgotten. But with the +dawn everything changed! A thousand servants set to work, and in one +short half hour the garden showed green. Green carpets, green trees, +green water falling from the fountains like liquid emeralds. And +by-and-bye came green crowds, every shade of green mixing and mingling +in harmony. And inside the arched pavilion of the house of Good Fortune +were green rustlings of silk, green shimmerings of satin as three +hundred ladies of the Court, all veiled with green veils, took their +seats in a semicircle. Three hundred ladies in green all dressed alike! +Which was Queen Humeeda? <i>That</i>, it was the part of a child of four to +tell, a child who had not seen his mother for two and a half years!</p> + +<p>The crowd outside, pale green, sage green, emerald green, leaf green, +were hushed to silence, waiting; but from every thicket of rose and +jasmine a chorus of singing birds, deftly concealed in cages behind the +leaves, filled the air as Humâyon and his little son advanced to take +their places. The king was dressed in green also, a fine figure in royal +robes embroidered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> with a thousand allegorical designs. He took his seat +on a golden throne.</p> + +<p>And little Prince Akbar!</p> + +<p>He was the one spot of colour! He was the flower of the whole garden! +Dressed in rose satin of various shades, he looked indeed what +Head-nurse had called him fondly, thus adding to her string of titles, +"The Rose of the World."</p> + +<p>And now the great moment approaches! The little fellow takes his stand +fearlessly below his father; before him the semicircle of green veiled +ladies; a hundred in the first row, a hundred in the second row, a +hundred in the third row.</p> + +<p>But little Akbar's eyes as he stands there do not wander from row to +row. To tell the truth, his eyes are not open at all! He has them fast +closed; for so, he knows, he can see his mother.</p> + +<p>"Ladies! Unveil!" comes the king's voice. It sounds a little anxious.</p> + +<p><a name="illus008"></a></p> +<p class="figcenter"><img src="./images/illus008.jpg" +alt="“Ladies! unveil!”" +title="“Ladies! unveil!”" /></p> + +<p class="figcenter caption">"<i>Ladies! unveil!</i>"</p> + +<p>There is a rustling of silks and satins, a faint swishing of gauze and +muslins, and three hundred faces flash out, like flowers against leaves, +from their green draperies.</p> + +<p>Which is Queen Humeeda's?</p> + +<p>For an instant the child stands silent, his lips trembling, his face +flushing. Then his eyes open and he sees something.</p> + +<p>What is it?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p> + +<p>Is one face less smiling than another?</p> + +<p>Where is it? In the first row, or the second row, or the third row?</p> + +<p>What matter? There is a glad cry of——</p> + +<p>"Amma-<i>jân</i>! My Amma-<i>jân</i>. There you are!" And a little flying figure +in rose-coloured satin has dashed across the floor to fling itself into +the arms of—Queen Humeeda.</p> + +<p>Little Akbar has found his own darlingest mother, and there is not a dry +eye in the whole assemblage.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<h2>BETWIXT CUP AND LIP</h2> + + +<p>Now it may indeed seem that all our little Heir-to-Empire's troubles +were over; but there is still somewhat to tell of our young hero. To +begin with, Queen Humeeda was a wise woman, and she saw that it was not +good for the little lad to be always at play. She knew that as a King's +son in the East, he would have small time after he was ten for +schooling, and as he was now close on four that did not leave many years +for teaching.</p> + +<p>So a tutor was found for him; but it is to be feared that he was by no +means an industrious scholar. Indeed, we hear of such dreadful things as +playing truant, so that when a day was fixed for an examination by +learned men as to how the Heir-to-Empire was getting on with his +studies, "at the master moment it was found that the scholar, having +attired himself for sport, had disappeared!" Then his first tutor was +dismissed because he encouraged his pupil in pigeon flying, and we read +of his applying his thoughts more to dog-fancying and Arab horses than +to his books. Still he did learn one thing, and a good thing, too.</p> + +<p>The day he was four years and four days old he was taught, as all little +Mohammedans are taught, to understand <i>what</i> he was, <i>what</i> the world +about him was,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> and to recognise that neither he himself, nor the world +he lived in were the Beginning and the End of all things. It was a +stately ceremonial, not beautiful, and lavish, and expensive like the +Festival of the Mystic Palace, but one which left its mark for always on +the mind of the child.</p> + +<p>Despite his dislike to books as the only way of learning to be wise, he +never forgot the day in the Great Mosque, when, before all his +relations, he had to stand up dressed in his simple every day clothes +and take the Holy Book from the hands of the high priest. And he never +forgot the high priest's words:</p> + +<p>"Read in the Name of Him who hath made all things in Heaven and earth, +and Who hath given men power to be wise."</p> + +<p>"<i>Bismillah!</i>—<i>Irruhman-nirruheem!</i>" he had answered as in duty bound, +which means, "Thanks be to Him who is merciful in this world and +merciful in the next world."</p> + +<p>In this way young Prince Akbar learned that every man has power to be +wise, and that the great mystery of birth and death is a merciful +mystery.</p> + +<p>Thus the summer passed and in early autumn King Humâyon, who had now +wasted nearly a whole year in amusement, found it necessary to quell +rebellion in a neighbouring province.</p> + +<p>So the governorship of Kâbul was made over to a trusted noble of the +Court, one Shurruf Khân by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> name, who was made as it were Regent for +little Prince Akbar, who was left with his attendants in regal state at +the palace in the Bala Hissar, while Queen Humeeda went back to India, +taking Bija with her, on a visit to her mother's relations.</p> + +<p>Roy, whose story had become known in the Court, was now made equerry to +the young prince, and very handsome he looked in his chain armour, with +the noonday sun all rayed and shiny in gold on his breast, in token that +he claimed to be a Sun-hero. As, indeed, seemed likely, since the Afghan +sentry's old Suryâmer friend had a tale about a young Râjah who had been +kidnapped and, it was supposed, left in the desert to die. But whether +Roy was the young Râjah or not, who could tell? They might send the +story to Suryâmer and see what befell. Meanwhile Roy was happy, and +little Akbar and he became more and more like elder and younger brother. +How much in after years the prince owed to the companionship of this +friend of his childhood it is impossible to say. Perhaps it accounts for +the marvellous way in which the Great Emperor Akbar ruled his Hindoo +subjects.</p> + +<p>Humâyon had expected to return in a month's time, but luck was against +him. A King cannot waste a whole year in amusement and so let wicked men +have time to hatch plots without suffering for it. And Humâyon did +suffer. He had to march and counter-march with winter coming on apace, +until he was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> struck down by sudden illness. At first the news caused no +alarm, for he was known to be strong and healthy; but there came a day +when folk began to whisper that the King was said to be lying +unconscious, that death might come any moment.</p> + +<p>The news stirred the whole city of Kâbul to its depths. It had but +lately passed into the hands of Humâyon. There were not wanting many who +preferred Kumran, and Kumran was in exile waiting an opportunity.</p> + +<p>And that came with the suddenness of a summer storm. One night the gates +of the town were closed by the Regent Shurruf Khân in Humâyon's name; +the next dawn saw the Iron Entry, after a brief scuffle, opened in the +name of Kumran! There was a rush of armed men through the streets of the +town, a murder or two of loyal men in high authority. And then?</p> + +<p>Up at the Bala Hissar, Foster-father roused from his sleep, went in +haste to the Regent, expecting to hear bugles, to find troops gatherings +for defence; but the gates of the Fort were open!</p> + +<p>Shurruf Khân was traitor! He had gone over to the enemy. Ere an hour was +over Kumran, scowling, walked up and down the royal apartments, a King +once more; but biting his lips and frowning over something that stood +between him and perfect revenge!</p> + +<p>Foster-father, good old fool, was back in his dun<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>geon in the well, +where this time he would rot. The women, as a change, were walled up in +a tiny room, where, bread and water being thrust in to them, they might +eat and live, or starve and die as they chose.</p> + +<p>But the Heir-to-Empire? What of him? Ah! fool that he had been to make +that promise to a crafty old woman who had died in order to spite him. +Kumran's anger rose fierce; he would have given anything to break his +oath; but he could not. He was not strong enough; even his wickedness +was not real.</p> + +<p>But, short of death, the young heir should have no shelter. Kumran flung +him into a miserable cell close to the Iron Gate and thought no more of +him. And now, but for faithful Roy, Akbar would indeed have been in +sorry plight. They had barely enough to eat, but Roy stinted himself, +eating nothing but the hard half-burned crusts of the coarse +hearth-cakes and excusing himself from even touching the miserable mess +of pease-porridge on the ground that he did not like it. So he grew thin +and his brown deer-eyes had a startled look. Indeed, he hardly slept at +all, but watched and dozed beside his little master all night long.</p> + +<p>Yet he was always cheerful. Always ready with stories and songs. When he +could not remember any new-old ones, he took to inventing tales of +people who were always in dangers and difficulties, but who took<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> no +notice of them, who went on their way trusting in the Truth.</p> + +<p>"For! see you!" he would finish gravely,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He who has Truth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Need fear no ruth."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>So, ever and always his hero came out of his trials scathless.</p> + +<p>And, by degrees, this faith in final good grew deep into both the boys' +hearts, and showed in their very faces.</p> + +<p>"By my word!" said the Afghan sentry, whom chance one day sent to guard +them. "Ye be a precious pair of Kings!"</p> + +<p>He could admire them, though he did not seem in the least ashamed of +having yet once more turned his coat; for he was again on Kumran's side.</p> + +<p>How time passed none of the prisoners cared to count. But one day the +sudden roar of a great gun told them that the city was once more +besieged. In truth, Humâyon hearing, while still on his bed of sickness, +the fatal news of Shurruf Khân's treachery, had strained every nerve, +ill as he was, to come to the rescue of his little son. It was +midwinter, the passes were blocked with snow, he and his troops had to +meet endless hardships; but at last they were before Kâbul once more. +Camped on the Arkabân hill, opposite the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> Iron Gate, the artillery were +brought into position, the first shot fired.</p> + +<p>It would take too long to follow all the varied incidents of the siege. +But one thing was constant. Night after night recruits from inside the +town managed to scale the walls and join King Humâyon's forces. They +were getting tired of Kumran, who, unable to satisfy his cruelty on the +little Heir-to-Empire, vented it on all and sundry. And day by day as +the number of the besieged dwindled, bit after bit of the town fell into +the besiegers' hands, until at last only the Bala Hissar remained. But +the Bala Hissar is a town in itself, and many a time has it withstood a +siege successfully.</p> + +<p>Now, however, it was near to the death. There could be no more talk or +thought of escape. Kumran, ever half-hearted, tried it one night and +failed, losing many followers in the attempt.</p> + +<p>After that his face hardened. He went about dreaming of revenge—revenge +on Humâyon, even revenge on Dearest-Lady, who had tied his hands.</p> + +<p>"<i>Till I return!</i>"</p> + +<p>No! Dead folks can never return to the worldly. Even their memory comes +seldom, save to the pure in heart.</p> + +<p>And one night he hit on a plan. The fort was almost at its last gasp. +All day Sumbal Khân, Humâyon's famous artillery general, had been +pound<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>ing away at the Iron Gate with deadly aim. A few more well-sent +shots would leave the bastion crumbling, and then——</p> + +<p>Then would come the assault through the breach, and Kumran knew he could +not face it. His force was too small.</p> + +<p>So about midnight the door of Akbar's prison room was opened and Kumran +with a few armed men stood within.</p> + +<p>Roy, startled from a doze, was on his feet in a second.</p> + +<p>"What want ye?" he challenged fiercely.</p> + +<p>"Let the Hindoo fool alone," said Kumran to those who would have seized +on the Râjput lad. "All we want is the child. Take him, slaves, and be +quick about it."</p> + +<p>Ere the words were out of his mouth a stalwart man bent to lift the +sleeping Heir-to-Empire. Roy's sword flashed the same second, but, held +back by sneering men, he was helpless.</p> + +<p>"What want ye with him? I say, what want ye with him?" panted the poor +lad as he struggled madly.</p> + +<p>Kumran paused at the door to turn an icy cold look of cruelty upon him. +"What! Thou wouldst know? Then thou shalt have it, young idolater. It +may cool thy hot blood. I will dress him in dust colour like the walls +of Kâbul and hang him over the battlement at dawn as a mark for my +brother's artillery. Then we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> shall see the breach in my citadel made! +Then we shall see my revenge—but it will not be of my making! His +father shall kill him."</p> + +<p>So with a mirthless laugh he followed his men, who were bearing away the +Heir-to-Empire, still but half awake.</p> + +<p>Roy stood for one second like a stone, too horror stricken for full +belief; but the echoing laugh convinced him; with a wild cry he rushed +to the narrow window and shook fruitlessly at its iron bars like a wild +animal when it is newly caged. But they were immovable.</p> + +<p>Yet something must be done—something—something——</p> + +<p>The thought of dawn was too dreadful. The beautiful, calm, peaceful +April dawn, shadowy grey! Just light enough to see the outline of the +Bala Hissar, just light enough to begin upon the breach once more; but +too dark to see what was in the line of fire.</p> + +<p>Yes! Something must be done, and done swiftly. Not four hours left +before the eastern hills would begin to show dark against the coming of +day.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<h2>ESCAPED</h2> + + +<p>Once more Roy felt helpless and hopeless before the great task which +seemed to be laid upon him. He alone out of all the little +Heir-to-Empire's guardians knew the dire danger he was in. Yet how could +he, a poor, prisoned Râjput lad, save the young prince?</p> + +<p>Still he had to be saved; he must be saved; and there was no time to be +lost. At dawn the firing would recommence from the Arkabân hill; at dawn +the helpless child would be in the half-breached bastion exposed to that +fire!</p> + +<p>Yes! He, Roy, must get out somehow. If he could only loosen one bar of +the window so that he could squeeze through, then he might be able to +let himself down by a rope twined out of his long waist-cloth and +turban! Thus he might be able to get out of the fort! He might be able +to gain the camp on the Arkabân hill before dawn! So he might be able to +warn the guns not to fire on the bastion; might be able to tell them +that the Heir-to-Empire hung there!</p> + +<p>What a number of "might be ables"; but would he be able, even for the +first task?</p> + +<p>He took up his sword and began forthwith on the iron bar; but the mortar +was hard, he could scarcely make a mark upon it. Still, it must be done. +In order<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> to free his arms better for the work he took off all his +clothes save his flimsy, sleeveless waistcoat and the loin-cloth that +was girt about him, and buckled down steadily. But when more than an +hour had passed the bar seemed as firm as ever. As he crouched down on +the window sill he could see through it to the flat roof of the +neighboring palaces; for it was a bright moonlight night still, though +the moon must be nigh to her setting. So the thought crossed his mind +that if he could only squeeze through he might be able to reach one of +those roofs; since, if he remembered aright, a wide cornice ran just +below. He paused for a second in his labour to see if this was so, +craning his head through the crossbars. Yes, the cornice was there! +Scarcely wide enough for a cat to walk, but if he got through in time he +would risk it. He must risk it!</p> + +<p>But would he get through in time? He set to work again feverishly until +suddenly a familiar sound reached his ear from outside; the sound of a +cat purring!</p> + +<p>Could it be Down? She had not found them out in their new prison, but if +she had happened to be on the roof when he looked out of the window she +might have seen him or smelled him—yes! There was a white cat on the +cornice, and the next moment Down was on the sill, arching her back and +purring away contentedly.</p> + +<p>So she had found them at last—no! not <i>them</i>, for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> the Heir-to-Empire +was not there—he had been stolen away! Roy could have leaned his head +on Down's soft fur and cried his heart out in despair at his own +helplessness, but he set his teeth instead and dug harder with the sword +point.</p> + +<p>Would the bar never loosen? So the minutes passed without a sound save +the grating of the eager sword and the soft, soothing purr of the cat as +she sat beside him watching him indifferently. Then suddenly the latter +ceased and Down leaped swiftly to the floor of the cell. Doubtless she +heard something. Cats hear so many things humans do not hear, and they +seem to know so many things humans do not know, so perhaps she heard a +mouse far down the arched passage, or even in the next cell. Anyhow she +marched straight to the door and stood by it, <i>miaowing</i> to be let out. +Ah! if he only could let her out! If the door were only open, thought +poor Roy, as he worked away at the still immovable bar.</p> + +<p>"No! Down, no! I can't," he murmured bitterly as the cat <i>miaowed</i> more +and more insistently.</p> + +<p>But still the <i>miaowing</i> went on. Down became quite plaintive, then +ill-used; finally she leaped onto Roy's shoulder, licked his ear with +her rough red tongue as if to coax him, and was back again at the door +asking to be let out.</p> + +<p>Why was she so set on it? Roy turned to look at her half stupidly and +for a moment forgot his task; forgot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> how rapidly time was passing; +forgot everything save that Down was asking to be let out. So wearily he +passed to the door, and scarcely conscious of what he was doing, laid +his hand on the latch.</p> + +<p>"I can't, Down," he said; "I can't open—" He broke off hurriedly.</p> + +<p>For the latch yielded, the door opened!!</p> + +<p>It could never have been locked!!</p> + +<p>Had they forgotten, or, having secured the Heir-to-Empire, had they not +cared what became of the henchman? The latter, most likely, for there +was no sentry in the arched passage along which Down had already +disappeared.</p> + +<p>Another second and Roy, sword in hand, had disappeared down it also, +remembering as he ran a certain little fretted marble balcony which gave +on the gardens below. For Roy, of course, knew every turn of the Bala +Hissar. This balcony opened onto an unused gallery room. To gain this, +bolt the heavy door behind him, and so, secure from interruption, set to +work twining a rope from strips torn from his turban and waistband did +not take long; but it was a good twenty minutes before he had knotted +all fast; though while he worked he thought of nothing else; of nothing +but somehow reaching the garden. Once there he would face the next +difficulty. One was enough at a time. And then, when he had made the +rope fast to one of the marble pillars and slid down it,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> it proved too +short. He swung with his feet just touching the topmost branch of a +blossoming peach tree. There was nothing for it but to let go, snatch at +the branches as he fell and trust to chance for safety. He found it; and +dropped to the ground amid a perfect shower of shed peach petals.</p> + +<p>So he stood for an instant to consider what must come next. A gate! Aye! +but which? The farthest from the point of attack would be the best, as +there would be less vigilance there. That meant the Delhi gate, and +meant also a long round; yet he must be quick, for already there was a +faint lightening of the eastern sky. But the moon had set and the +shadows, always darker in the hour before dawn, lay upon all things.</p> + +<p>And luckily he knew every turn of the Bala Hissar garden, knew every +point where danger might be expected. So he began to make his way +carefully. He dodged more than one sentry by creeping on through the +bushes while the man passed away from him, and crouched among them, +still as a mouse, while the measured march came toward him. And once he +had to run for bare life from a shower of arrows which a company of +soldiers sent into the darkness after a suspicious rustling in the +bushes. But mostly the men on duty had too much to think of outside the +walls to trouble themselves much about the things inside them.</p> + +<p>So with doublings and turnings he came at last on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> the Delhi gate, a +small, round, flat-roofed building pierced by a high archway. It was too +dark for him to see its outline, but he knew it well, and paused against +the outside wall to consider what he had to do next. The place seemed +almost deserted, but a glimmer of light from the archway and the even +tramp of a sentry's footstep told it was not all unguarded.</p> + +<p>What was he to do? It would be useless for him to try and steal past the +sentry, as the gate beyond must be locked, or at any rate bolted and +barred. He must either, therefore, try and overpower the man or else try +to gain the flat roof by the stairs—of which he knew the position—and, +trusting to find a rope or something of the sort in the upper room of +the gate, let himself down into the ditch outside.</p> + +<p>Now, Roy was a well-grown lad of nigh fifteen, tall for his age, and +with his light, youthful sinews of iron might well be a match for many a +man, especially as his purpose was like steel, and that is ever half the +battle. But there was the chance of other soldiers being within call, +and that might mean failure. Now, <i>that</i> must not be. Roy had to +succeed—he must!</p> + +<p>Therefore the roof was the wiser, safer plan; he must make for the +stairs, trusting to escape notice when the sentry's back was turned. +Till then—silence!</p> + +<p>But even as he settled this in his mind Fate was against him. As he +crouched in the darkness something cold suddenly touched his face, and +the next<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> moment a clamour of excited yappings and joyful barks arose, +as something warm and furry and cold and slobbery flung itself all over +him.</p> + +<p>Tumbu! It could be nothing but blundering, bumbling Tumbu! He made one +useless effort to still the dog, then rose to his feet feeling himself +discovered, prepared to run for it. But it was too late. A sentry, +lantern in hand, roused by the commotion, barred the way. All seemed +lost, but a ray of hope shone when the familiar voice of the Afghan +sentry, the unrepentant turncoat, was heard as the lantern waved in +Roy's very face.</p> + +<p>"By my word, one of the Kings! How come you hither at this time o' +night, friend?"</p> + +<p>The voice was a little thick, as if the owner, finding the quiet of the +Delhi Gate wearisome, had sought amusement in a skin of wine.</p> + +<p>Roy gave a gasp—he was too confused for thought. "The dog—" he began.</p> + +<p>"Aye! The dog that was yours and is mine," jeered the sentry. "So he +nosed you out, did he? Knows his duty—good dog, Tumbu! Knows his master +now! Knows who saved him from starvation when he was lurking about in +the gutter. Eh! you brute!"</p> + +<p>He lunged a kick at Tumbu, who retreated a step, looking from the new to +the old master, feeling, in truth, a trifle confused. For the Afghan +sentry had certainly found him homeless, friendless, and the dog<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> had +stuck by him, feeling that here at least was something vaguely connected +with the past life. But now he stood doubtful, expectant, his little +ears pricked, his small eyes watchful.</p> + +<p>"Well," continued the sentry with a half-drunken laugh, "dog or no dog, +you've no business here, so come along with me, my King."</p> + +<p>He reached out a heavy hand, and Roy shrunk from it. As he did so there +came a sound which sent the blood to Roy's heart with a spasm of instant +hope, of possible escape. It was Tumbu's low growl as he realised that +some one wanted to touch his old master and that his old master did not +want to be touched.</p> + +<p>"At him, Tumbu! At him, good dog!" The words came to Roy in a flash, and +like a flash the great, powerful dog leaped forward, his fur a-bristle, +his white teeth gleaming, and the next instant, taken by the suddenness +of the attack, the sentry lay on his back half stunned by the fall, +while Tumbu, on the top of him, checked even a cry by a clutch at his +throat. A soft clutch so far; but one that would tear through flesh if +needful.</p> + +<p>Roy was on his knees beside the fallen man.</p> + +<p>"Hist! not a sound or the dog shall kill you. He can. Give me the keys. +I want to get out of the gate! The keys, do you hear?"</p> + +<p>The sentry tried to struggle, but warned by the weight of the dog on his +breast and those sharp teeth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> ready to close upon his throat, murmured +hoarsely, "It is only barred, but the bolts are difficult. If you will +let me get up and call off your dog——"</p> + +<p>But Roy took no heed of his words. "Keep him there, Tumbu," he whispered +as he ran to the gate.</p> + +<p>Bolted and barred it was, and in the darkness of the archway it was hard +to see, for the lantern had gone out in the scuffle. But there was no +time to lose, for already beyond the archway it showed faintly light. +One bar down! The sentry made a faint effort to stir, that was answered +by an ominous growl from Tumbu.</p> + +<p>Only one more bolt now!</p> + +<p>Roy's long fingers were at it—his whole strength went to it—it +creaked—groaned—slid, and with a sob of exultation Roy felt the fresh +air of dawn in his face as he stood outside the Bala Hissar.</p> + +<p>But he had still much to do. The city must be skirted, the hill of +Arkabân gained, and already a faint primrose streak in the eastern sky +told of coming light.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<h2>DAWN</h2> + + +<p>Upon the Arkabân hill the artillery men were already at work. In those +days guns were not what they are now, quick loading, quick firing.</p> + +<p>It needed a good hour to ram the coarse powder down, adjust the round +ball and prepare the priming; to say nothing of the task of aiming. So, +long ere dawn, the glimmering lights were seen about the battery, which, +perched on a hill, gave on the half-breached bastion. Between the two +stretched an open space of undulating ground. Sumbal, "the master +fireworker," as he is called in the old history books, was up betimes +seeing to his men, and with him came a grave, silent man, who, though he +had no interest in the quarrels of Humâyon and his brothers, was as +eager as any to get within the walls of Kâbul and find what he sought—a +Râjput lad of whom word had been brought to a little half-desert Râjput +state lying far away in the Jesulmer plain.</p> + +<p>For the grave, silent man, who showed so much knowledge of warfare, who +was keen to see everything new in weapons and the handling of them, was +a messenger sent by a widowed mother to see if indeed it could be her +long-lost son, of whom a certain old trooper had spoken on his return +from Kâbul.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> + +<p>"See you!" said Sumbal, who was a bit of a boaster, "give me time to aim +and I'll warrant me 'Thunder of God'" (that was the name let in with +gold on the breech of the gun) "will hit the mark within a yard every +time. Thou shalt see it ere-long. There is a sort of pigeon place on the +face of the bastion where I will aim, and thou shalt see the splinters +of it spin!" He shaded his eyes with his hand and looked piercingly into +the shadows. "'Tis too dark to see it yet, but so soon as it shows I +will let fly, and then——"</p> + +<p>And then?</p> + +<p>Roy, who had never stopped for a breath yet in his headlong race, was at +that very moment rounding on the bastion, and looking up, saw what he +had feared to see—a little figure bound hand and foot to a framework of +wood that hung close to what Sumbal had called the pigeon place, seeming +to form part of it. The child was not crying. Perhaps he was past that. +Perhaps he had never cried, but had taken this last and urgent danger as +he had taken others, with grave dignity.</p> + +<p>All we know is that he hung there on the wall, and that before his very +eyes the light was growing in the east, and over in the hill battery a +dozen men were sweating away to bring the "Thunder of God" into +position. Roy gave a gasp. Should he call to the little Heir-to-Empire +and let him know that a friend was near, that help might come? No! +per<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>haps he did not realise his danger. It was better to let be.</p> + +<p>So gathering all his forces for a last effort, he dashed into the open +for the final five minutes' run. And there could be no dodging here. +Every loophole of the bastion was, he knew, crammed with the matchlocks +of many marksmen. And there was now, worse luck, little darkness to +cover him!</p> + +<p>"Three minutes more, friend!" said Sumbal boastfully, "and thou shalt +see what thou wilt see. Slave! the port fire, quick. I will give the +signal. Lo! What is up?"</p> + +<p>A rattle of musketry rose on the still air of dawn, and an artillery man +leaned over the low embrasure to see better into the intervening valley.</p> + +<p>"Some one escaping," he said with a yawn, for he had been up half the +night. "Lo! he runs like a hare! But they will have him, for sure."</p> + +<p>"Quick," called Sumbal, "we will silence their noise. The portfire, I +say. I will fire old Thunderer myself."</p> + +<p>The man carrying the flaming flashlight handed it to his superior, but +in so doing by some mischance it dropped, and in the dropping went out!</p> + +<p>"Fool!" cried Sumbal passionately. "Are we to stand insulted here +without reply while thou fetchest another? Put him in irons, sergeant, +and bring light at once!"</p> + +<p>But the grave, silent Râjput was watching the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> runner. "He is but a +boy," he said slowly, "yet see how he runs. And they have hit him, for +he staggers. Yet he comes on. He must bring news, friend, for sure!"</p> + +<p>"News!" echoed Sumbal contemptuously; "we have half a hundred such +runaways coming in every day. It is no news that King Humâyon is better +liked than Kumran. Lo! hast thou it at last?" He snatched the portfire +from the sergeant and went toward the gun.</p> + +<p>"Stay one moment, friend!" said the grave and silent man with sudden +command in his voice. "A moment's hastiness may bring disaster. +Discretion is better than valour. Yonder boy brings news—he waves his +arms—he shouts! Stay at least till we can hear what he says."</p> + +<p>Sumbal laughed. "Bah! But, see you, I stay my hand while I count ten—no +more."</p> + +<p><a name="illus009"></a></p> +<p class="figcenter"><img src="./images/illus009.jpg" +alt="I stay my hand while I count ten—no more." +title="“I stay my hand while I count ten—no more.”" /></p> + +<p class="figcenter caption">"<i>I stay my hand while I count ten—no more.</i>"</p> + +<p>"One! two! three! four!"</p> + +<p>The artillery men, amused at the race, leaned over. "He runs well!—He +will win!—He will lose!—He climbs like a hill cat!"——</p> + +<p>"<i>Five! six! seven! eight! nine!</i>"</p> + +<p>And now, unintelligible from sheer breathlessness, Roy's voice is heard. +The grave, silent Râjput leaps out to meet him.</p> + +<p>"<i>Ten!</i>"</p> + +<p>Sumbal's hand swings the portfire to the breech.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p> + +<p>Roy sees it, throws up his arms wildly, and with a cry—</p> + +<p>"The bastion! The bastion! The Heir-to-Empire!" falls headlong into the +Râjput's arms.</p> + +<p>"What did he say?" asked the master fireworker, pausing half surprised, +half angry.</p> + +<p>But the Râjput was too busy tearing aside Roy's flimsy, bloodstained +waistcoat to answer.</p> + +<p>"Something about the bastion and the Heir-to-Empire, master!" said the +sergeant doubtfully. "Mayhap 'twould be as well to wait till we can see +more clearly. Kumran," he added in a lower voice, "would stick at +naught——"</p> + +<p>Sumbal hesitated, then put down the portfire and walked over to the +fallen lad, beside whom the stranger was kneeling.</p> + +<p>"He is not dead! He is not dead!" said the grave, silent Râjput, looking +up, his face working, the tears streaming down his bronzed cheek. "My +master is not dead!"</p> + +<p>"Who?" asked Sumbal, uncomprehending.</p> + +<p>"I knew it must be he!" went on the man exultantly, even in his grief. +"None could do that sort of thing save a Sun hero! My Master! my King! +See, here the race mark on his breast! The sign of uttermost truth! My +Master! My King!"</p> + +<p>But Roy did not hear himself called thus. He did not even know for days +afterwards if he had succeeded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> or if he had failed; for a wound just +above the heart, close to the sign-mark of his race, very nearly carried +him off into the Shadowy Land where all things are remembered, yet all +are forgotten.</p> + +<p>But he <i>had</i> succeeded. He had saved the Heir-to-Empire's life that +dawn, and a day or two afterwards Kumran, daily more hated for his +cruelty, had escaped, and the soldiers, rejoiced to get rid of him, +flung open the gates of the Bala Hissar, thus ending Prince Akbar's +adventures.</p> + +<p>But when Roy came to himself Mirak was sitting beside him and Down was +purring on Bija's lap; Bija, who had just returned from India with Queen +Humeeda in time to console the Heir-to-Empire for all he must have +suffered during the few days he was left alone with cruel Uncle Kumran. +How much he had suffered no one knew, and the little fellow refused to +say anything about it. It was a way he had when the luck went against +him. So, just as he had remarked when he had fallen down the ravine, +when the white cat and the black dog first came to him, that he had +"tumbu-down," so now he simply said that it wasn't "very comfy," but +that Tumbu had come to see him more than once. And this was possible, +for you may be sure that once he allowed the Afghan sentry to rise, +Tumbu, being a wise dog, never went near him again. Therefore he <i>had</i> +to find his old master.</p> + +<p>And Foster-father, Foster-mother and Head-nurse<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> were all there, the +latter greatly subdued for the time, and in her gratitude to Roy +inclined to give him some of the titles she was wont to bestow on little +Prince Akbar.</p> + +<p>For there was no doubt whatever that the lad was the rightful Râjah of +Suryâmer, whom wicked rebels had exposed in the desert to die, who had +been found and kept alive by wandering goatherds and had finally been +discovered when unconscious from sunstroke by the royal fugitives.</p> + +<p>And out of this arose the only sadness of the happy May days when the +little party once more journeyed out to Babar's tomb towards evening to +sit under the <i>arghawân</i> trees and watch the sunset.</p> + +<p>Of course Dearest-Lady was not there, but all the others were assembled, +and Down, the cat, purred as loud as ever, while Tumbu, the dog, +frolicked round even more like a golliwog than before. But it was not +the absence of the Khânzâda Khânum which made faces thoughtful at times. +She, they knew, was at rest, and they laid flowers for her beside those +they gathered in memory of Firdoos Gita Makâni—on whom be peace!</p> + +<p>No! it was the knowledge that Roy could not remain with them. So soon as +he was strong again he must go back to his mother, go back to a people +who, tired of rebellion, were longing for their old rulers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You see, brother, I am a King," said Roy sorrowfully, "and Kings cannot +always do what they like."</p> + +<p>"Do you think they ever do, <i>really</i>?" asked the little Heir-to-Empire +gravely, "for I don't."</p> + +<p>And here we come to the end—for a time at least—of Prince Akbar's +adventures.</p> + +<p>Now, if you want to know how much of this so-called veracious story is +really true, I cannot quite say.</p> + +<p>Did some one like Roy <i>really</i> tell the master fireworker that the +Heir-to-Empire was hung over the battlements of the bastion? If some one +did not, how did the master-fireworker find it out? And he did; indeed, +in the history books he takes great credit to himself for <i>having</i> found +it out. But then he was a boaster.</p> + +<p>Then did Dearest-Lady really bind Kumran by an oath not to harm the +Heir-to-Empire until she returned?</p> + +<p>If she did not, then why did she, an old, frail woman of seventy, go out +into the wilderness just as winter was coming on, and why did not cruel +Kumran kill the Heir-to-Empire when he had him in his power?</p> + +<p>These are all questions; but what is certain is that Baby Akbar did go +through all these adventures before he was five years old.</p> + +<p>So good-bye, brave little lads! Good-bye, stout old Foster-father and +kindly Foster-mother! Good-bye, worthy Head-nurse with your strings of +titles, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> good-bye, dainty little Bija! Good-bye also to grinning +Meroo, to purring Down, and frolicking Tumbu!</p> + +<p>And for those other three whose memory remained—Old Faithful, Dearest +Lady, and the Great Emperor, Firdoos Gita Makâni, who all helped the +little prince to safety, what of them?</p> + +<p>"Heaven," as the marble slab among the tulips and violets of the +Garden-of-the-New-Year says,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Is their eternal abode.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h4>WOODS & SONS, LTD., PRINTERS, LONDON, N.</h4> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Adventures of Akbar, by Flora Annie Steel + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF AKBAR *** + +***** This file should be named 18307-h.htm or 18307-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/3/0/18307/ + +Produced by Suzanne Lybarger, Brian Janes and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Adventures of Akbar + +Author: Flora Annie Steel + +Illustrator: Byam Shaw + +Release Date: May 4, 2006 [EBook #18307] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF AKBAR *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Lybarger, Brian Janes and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Transcriber's Note: The following variant spellings used by the +author were retained as printed: Babar/Baber, Sultanum/Sultanam, +gray/grey, Allah/Alah, meaowed/miaowed.] + + + + +THE ADVENTURES OF AKBAR + + + + +_Uniform with this Volume_ + +Price 6/-net each + + +THE SECRET GARDEN, by FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT, author of "The Shuttle," +etc., illustrated by CHARLES ROBINSON. + +THE FOUR GARDENS, by "HANDASYDE," illustrated by CHARLES ROBINSON. + +ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND, by LEWIS CARROLL, illustrated by +ARTHUR RACKHAM. + +AESOP'S FABLES, translated by V. S. VERNON JONES, with an introduction by +G. K. CHESTERTON, illustrated by ARTHUR RACKHAM. + + +LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN +21, BEDFORD STREET, W.C. + + + + +[Illustration: _On a shelving bank of dry sand Baby Akbar sitting up and +rubbing his eyes._] + + + + +THE ADVENTURES OF AKBAR + +by + +FLORA ANNIE STEEL + +ILLUSTRATED BY BYAM SHAW + + +LONDON . WILLIAM HEINEMANN . 1913 + +_All rights reserved_ + + + + +A DEDICATION + + + Oft when the house lay silent in the heat + My thoughts would be so full of you, my sweet, + That dreaming half--I seemed to hear once more + Your little fingers fluttering at the door, + The pitter patter of your childish feet + In joyous rhythm cross the echoing floor. + + Then small, soft hands would nestle into mine, + And warm soft arms around my neck would twine, + As soft and warm the dream child on my knees, + Cuddling so close in clear young voice would tease + And tease and tease in mimicked glad young whine + For "Just one little story if you please." + + So half in jest and half in earnest, too, + Mostly I think to dream my dreaming true, + I'd conjure up long tales of lands afar + And days gone by that yet remembered are; + Shaping my stories with this end in view + To gain the verdict "Tell some more, Mamma." + + For I was happy when I had beguiled + Into my life the spirit of a child. + Thus one by one the weary hours flew + And page by page a little volume grew, + So--that my dreams with truth be reconciled, + Take it, my darling, it was writ for you. + + _April, 1875_ + + Long years have sped since that poor book was penned. + None read the pages. Therefore at the end + Of this world's life I dedicate to two + Small boys--her sons--whose question'ng eyes of blue + Tell me that dreams of childhood never end + _This_ book. So take it boys--'twas writ for you. + + _1911_ + + + + +PREFACE + + +This book is written for all little lads and lasses, but especially for +the former, since it is the true--_quite_ true--story of a little lad +who lived to be, perhaps, the greatest king this world has ever seen. + +It is a strange, wild tale this of the adventures of Prince Akbar among +the snowy mountains between Kandahar and Kabul, and though the names may +be a bit of a puzzle at first, as they will have to be learned by and +bye in geography and history lessons, it might be as well to get +familiar with them in a story-book; though, indeed, as everybody in it +except Roy the Rajput, Meroo the cook boy; Tumbu, the dog; and Down, the +cat (and these four _may_ have been true, you know, though they have not +been remembered) really lived, I don't know whether this book oughtn't +to be considered real history, and therefore + +A LESSON BOOK + +Anyhow, I hope you won't find it dull. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE +PREFACE + +CHAPTER I +FAREWELL 1 + +CHAPTER II +THE FIRST VICTORY 11 + +CHAPTER III +THE ROYAL UMBRELLA 20 + +CHAPTER IV +TUMBU-DOWN 27 + +CHAPTER V +ON THE ROAD 39 + +CHAPTER VI +AT COURT 50 + +CHAPTER VII +WINTER 58 + +CHAPTER VIII +DOWN'S STRATAGEM 68 + +CHAPTER IX +SPRING 77 + +CHAPTER X +THE NIGHT OF RECORD 88 + +CHAPTER XI +A WINTER MARCH 100 + +CHAPTER XII +SNOW AND ICE 109 + +CHAPTER XIII +OVER THE PASS 119 + +CHAPTER XIV +IN THE VALLEY 128 + +CHAPTER XV +DEAREST-LADY 138 + +CHAPTER XVI +CRUEL BROTHER KUMRAN 147 + +CHAPTER XVII +IMPRISONMENT 159 + +CHAPTER XVIII +THE GARDEN OF GAMES 169 + +CHAPTER XIX +BETWIXT CUP AND LIP 178 + +CHAPTER XX +ESCAPED 187 + +CHAPTER XXI +DAWN 196 + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + +ON A SHELVING BANK OF DRY SAND BABY AKBAR + SITTING UP AND RUBBING HIS EYES _Frontispiece_ + + _To face page_ + +PRINCE ASKURRY ... STRODE ... INTO THE TENT 16 + +THE CHILD HAD SLIPPED IT ONTO HIS LITTLE FOREFINGER 62 + +SO THEY BOTH TOUCHED THE COLD MARBLE FLOOR WITH THEIR + WARM LITTLE FOREHEADS 98 + +AHEAD OF THEM, A SHADOW SHOWED, A SHAMBLING SHADOW! + TUMBU ... WITH A BOUND WAS OFF FULL TILT AFTER IT 126 + +AND ONE DAY THE DOOR DID OPEN.... "MY SON--MY LITTLE SON!" 166 + +"LADIES! UNVEIL!" 176 + +"I STAY MY HAND WHILE I COUNT TEN--NO MORE" 198 + + + + +CHAPTER I + +FAREWELL + + +_Bismillah Al-la-hu Akbar!_ + +These queer-looking, queer-sounding words, which in Arabic mean "thanks +be to God," were shrilled out at the very top of Head-nurse's voice. Had +she been in a room they would have filled it and echoed back from the +walls; for she was a big, deep-chested woman. But she was only in a +tent; a small tent, which had been pitched in a hurry in an +out-of-the-way valley among the low hills that lead from the wide plains +of India to Afghanistan. For Head-nurse's master and mistress, King +Humayon and Queen Humeeda, with their thirteen months' old little son, +Prince Akbar, were flying for their lives before their enemies. And +these enemies were led by Humayon's own brothers, Prince Kumran, Askurry +and Hindal. It is a long story, and a sad story, too, how Humayon, so +brave, so clever, so courteous, fell into misfortune by his own fault, +and had to fly from his beautiful palaces at Delhi and wander for years, +pursued like a hare, amid the sandy deserts and pathless plains of +Western India. And now, as a last resource, his followers dwindled to a +mere handful, he was making a desperate effort to escape over the +Persian border and claim protection at the hands of Persia's King. + +So the poor tent was ragged and out at elbows, for all that it was made +of costly Kashmir shawls, and that its poles were silver-gilt. + +But Head-nurse's "Thanks be to God!" came from a full heart. + +"What is it? What _is_ it?" called an anxious voice from behind the +curtain which divided the tent in two. + +"What?" echoed Head-nurse in high glee. "Only this: His Imperial +Highness, Prince Akbar, the Admired-of-the-World, the Source-of-Dignity, +the Most-Magnificent-Person-of-the-Period--" She went on, after her +wont, rolling out all the titles that belonged of right to the little +Prince, until the soft, anxious voice lost patience and called again, +"Have done--have done; what is it? Heaven save he hath not been in +danger." + +Head-nurse, stopped in her flow of fine words, sniffed contemptuously. +"Danger! with me to guard him? No! 'Tis that the High-in-Pomp hath cut +his first real back tooth! He can eat meat! He has come to man's estate! +He is no longer dependent upon milk diet." Here she gave a withering +glance at the gentle looking woman who was Baby Akbar's wet-nurse, who, +truth to tell, was looking just a little sad at the thought that her +nursling would soon leave her consoling arms. + +"Heavens!" exclaimed the voice from within, "say you so?" And the next +instant the curtain parted, and there was Queen Humeeda, Baby Akbar's +mother, all smiling and eager. + +Now, if you want to know what she was like, you must just think of your +own dearest dear mummie. At least that was what she seemed to little +Prince Akbar, who, at the sight of her, held out his little fat arms and +crowed, "Amma! Amma!" Now, this, you will observe, is only English +"Ma-Ma" arranged differently; from which you may guess that English and +Indian children are really very much alike. + +And Queen Humeeda took the child and kissed him and hugged him just as +any English mother would have done. Head-nurse, however, was not a bit +satisfied with this display of affection. That would have been the +portion of any ordinary child, and Baby Akbar was more than that: he was +the heir apparent to the throne of India! If he had only been in the +palaces that belonged to him, instead of in a miserable tent, there +would have been ceremonials and festivities and fireworks over this +cutting of a tooth! Aye! _Certainly_ fireworks. But how could one keep +up court etiquette when royalty was flying for its life? Impossible! +Why, even her determination that, come what might, a royal umbrella must +be held over the blessed infant during their perilous journeys had very +nearly led to his being captured! + +Despite this recollection, as she listened impatiently to the cooings +and gurglings, she turned over in her mind what she could do to +commemorate the occasion. And when pretty Queen Humeeda (thinking of her +husband, the king, who, with his few followers, had ridden off to see if +a neighboring chief would help them) said, "This will be joyful news +wherewith to cheer my lord on his return," Head-nurse's irritation found +voice. + +"That is all very well," she cried. "So it would be to any +common father of any common child, Your Royal Highness! This one +is the Admired-of-the-Whole-World, the Source-of-Dignity, the +Most-Magnificent-Person-of-the-Period----" + +And she went on rolling out queer guttural Arabic titles till +Foster-mother implored her to be silent or she would frighten the child. +Could she not see the look on the darling's face? + +For Baby Akbar was indeed listening to something with his little finger +up to command attention. But it was not to Head-nurse's thunderings, but +to the first long, low growl of a coming storm that outside the +miserable tent was turning the distant hills to purple and darkening the +fast-fading daylight. + +"Frighten?" echoed Head-nurse in derision. "The son of Humayon the +heroic, the grandson of Baber the brave could never be frightened at +anything!" + +And in truth the little lad was not a bit afraid, even when a distant +flash of lightning glimmered through the dusk. + +"Heavens!" cried gentle Queen Humeeda, "his Majesty will be drenched to +the skin ere he returns." She was a brave woman, but the long, long +strain of daily, hourly danger was beginning to tell on her health, and +the knowledge that even this coming storm was against them brought the +tears to her eyes. + +"Nay! Nay! my royal mistress," fussed Head-nurse, who, in spite of her +love of pomp, was a kind-hearted, good woman, "this must not be on such +an auspicious day. It must be celebrated otherwise, and for all we are +so poor, we can yet have ceremonial. When the child was born were we not +in direst danger? Such danger that all his royal father could do in +honor of the glad event was to break a musk-bag before his faithful +followers as sign that the birth of an heir to empire would diffuse +itself like perfume through the whole world? Even so now, and if I +cannot devise some ceremony, then am I no Head-nurse!" + +So saying she began to bustle around, and ere long even poor, unhappy +Queen Humeeda began to take an interest in the proceedings. + +A mule trunk, after being ransacked for useful odds and ends, was put in +a corner and covered with a worn satin quilt. This must do for a throne. +And a strip of red muslin wound about the little gold-embroidered skull +cap Baby Akbar wore must, with the heron's plume from his father's +state turban, make a monarch of the child. + +In truth he looked very dignified indeed, standing on the mule trunk, +his little legs very wide apart, his little crimson silk trousers very +baggy, his little green brocade waistcoat buttoned tight over his little +fat body, and, trailing from his shoulders in great stiff folds, his +father's state cloth-of-gold coatee embroidered with seed pearls. + +So, as he always wore great gold bracelets on his little fat arms, and +great gold jingling anklets fringing his little fat feet, he looked very +royal indeed. Very royal and large and calm, for he was a grave baby +with big, dark, piercing eyes and a decided chin. + +"He is as like his grandfather as two splits of a pea!" cried Head-nurse +in rapture, and then she went to the tent door and shrilled out: + +"Slaves! Quick! Come and perform your lowly salute on the occasion of +the cutting of a back tooth belonging to the Heir-to-Empire, the +Most----" + +She cut short her string of titles, for a crash of thunder overhead +warned her she had best be speedy before the rain soaked through the +worn tent. + +"Quick, slaves!" she added; "keep us not waiting all day. Enter and +prostrate yourselves on the ground with due reverence! Quick! Quick!" + +She need not have been in such a hurry, for it did not take long for the +"slaves," as she called them, to perform their lowly salaam by touching +the very ground with their foreheads. There were but three of them--Old +Faithful, the trooper; Roy, the Rajput boy; and Meroo, the scullion; the +rest were away with their master, King Humayon. + +Old Faithful, however, tall, lank, grey-bearded, brought enough devotion +for half a dozen followers. He had served with little Akbar's +grandfather, Babar the brave, and when he saw the child standing so fair +and square, he gave almost a sharp cry of remembrance and delight. And +when he stood up after his prostration, in soldier fashion he held out +the hilt of his old sword for the baby to touch in token that its +service was accepted. Queen Humeeda, who stood beside her little son, +guided his fat fingers to the sword; but at the very moment a vivid +flash of lightning made her give a shriek and cover her face with her +hands. But little Prince Akbar having got a hold of the hilt, would not +let go. And to Old Faithful's huge delight he pulled and pulled till the +sword came out of the scabbard. + +"An omen! An omen!" cried the old man. "Like his grandfather, he will +fight battles ere he be twelve!" + +Then there was Roy, the Rajput lad, whom the royal fugitives had found +half dead from sunstroke in the wide, sandy Rajputana deserts, and whom, +with their customary kindness, they had succoured and befriended, +putting him on as a sort of page boy to the little Heir-to-Empire. He +was a tall, slim lad for his twelve years, was Roy, with a small, +well-set head and a keen, well-cut face. And his eyes! They were like a +deer's--large, brown, soft, but with a flash in them at times. + +For the sunstroke which had so nearly killed the lad had left his mind a +little confused. As yet he could remember nothing of what had happened +to him before it, and could not even recollect who he was, or anything +save that his name was Roy. But every now and again he would say +something or do something which would make those around him look +surprised, and wonder who he could have been to know such things and +have such manners. + +After him came Meroo, the misshapen cook-boy. He was an odd fellow, all +long limbs and broad smiles, who, when his time arrived, shambled +forward, cast himself in lowliest reverence full length on the ground +and blubbered out his delight--now that the princely baby could really +eat--at being able to supply all sorts of toothsome stews full of onions +and green ginger, to say nothing of watermelons and sugar cane. These +things, strange to say, being to little Indian children very much what +chocolate creams and toffee are to English ones. + +So far all had gone well, and now there only remained one more salute to +be made. But little Adam, who was Head-nurse's own son, and who had +hitherto been Baby Akbar's playmate, refused absolutely to do as he was +bid. He was a short, sturdy boy of five, and nothing would induce him to +go down on his knees and touch the ground with his forehead. In vain +Meroo, the cook-boy, promised him sweets if he would only obey orders; +in vain Old Faithful spoke of a ride on his old war-horse, and Roy, who +was a most wonderful story-teller, promised him the best of all, +Bopuluchi. In vain his mother, losing patience at such a terrible piece +of indecorum, rushed at him and cuffed him soundly. He only howled and +kicked. + +And then suddenly Baby Akbar, who had been listening with a solemn face, +brought his little bare foot down on the mule trunk with such a stamp +that the golden anklets jingled and jangled, and his little forefinger +went up over his head in the real Eastern attitude of royal command. + +"Salute, slave, salute," he said with a tremendous dignity. And there +was something so comical about the little mite of a child, something so +masterful in the tiny figure, something so commanding in the loud, +deep-toned baby voice, that every one laughed, and somehow or other Adam +forgot his obstinacy and made his obeisance like a good boy. + +And then once more pretty Queen Humeeda hugged and kissed her little +son, and all the rest applauded him, and made so much of him that he +began to think he had done something very fine indeed, and crowed and +clapped his hands in delight. + +But the merriment did not last long, for there was a clatter of horses +and swords outside the tent. + +"My husband!" cried Queen Humeeda in a flutter. "What news does my lord +bring?" + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE FIRST VICTORY + + +The next moment a tall, handsome man entered the tent; but one look at +his pale, anxious face was enough to tell those inside that the news was +bad. So for an instant there was silence; and in the silence, with a +deafening roar and a blinding blaze of blue light, came a terrific crash +of thunder followed by a sudden fierce pelt of hail upon the taut tent +roof. + +It sent a shiver through the listeners. They felt that the storm had +broken indeed upon their heads, that danger was close beside them. + +Then the King stepped to his wife's side and took her hand, and as he +spoke there was a sob in his breath as of an animal who after a long +chase finds himself at last driven to bay. + +"Come!" he said briefly, "there may yet be a chance for us. My horse, +weary though it be, will suffice for thy light weight. In the mountains +lies possible safety. Come! There is not a moment to lose." + +"But--but the child--" faltered the Queen. + +King Humayon's voice failed him. He could not speak for a moment; but he +shook his head. + +"I will not leave the child--" began the wretched mother. "My lord! thou +canst not have the heart----" + +"It is his only chance--" interrupted the poor King, his face full of +grief and anger, of bitter, bitter regret--"His only chance of life! In +the mountains yonder, with winter snow upon us, lies certain death for +one so young. Were we to stay with him here, he would find death with +us--for my brother Askurry is close behind us. But if we are gone, God +knows, but he might spare the child. Askurry is not all unkind, and the +little lad favors my father so much that his blessed memory may be +safeguard. God send it so. It is his best chance, his only chance. So +come----" + +"I cannot! I cannot!" moaned the poor mother distractedly. + +"There is no other way, sweetheart!" said the King, "so be brave, little +mother, and come for thy son's sake. He will be safer here than with +thee. Come! trusting in God's mercy for the child. And come quickly +while the darkness of the storm shrouds our going." + +Then he looked round on those others--Head-nurse, Wet-nurse, Old +Faithful, Roy the Rajput, and Meroo the cook-boy--not much of a +bodyguard for the young prince, and yet, since force would be useless, +perhaps as good as any other, if they had a head between them. But the +nurses were women, Faithful nothing but an old soldier, and the two +others were mere boys. Some one else must be left. Who? Then he +remembered Foster-father, Foster-mother's husband. He was the man. +Solid, sober, clear-headed. So, as Queen Humeeda was being hurriedly +wrapped in a shawl by the two weeping nurses, he gave them a few +directions. They were to stay where they were, no matter what happened, +until Foster-father returned from showing the fugitives a path he knew +to the mountains, and then---- + +King Humayon could say no more. Only as, after a hurried, tearless, +hopeless farewell to his little son, he paused at the tent door to take +a last look, his half-fainting wife in his arms, he said suddenly in a +sharp, loud voice: + +"Remember! In your charge lies the safety of the Heir-to-Empire." + +The words sank into the very hearts of those who stood watching the +group of hurrying figures making its way rapidly toward the hills. + +"Pray Heaven," muttered Old Faithful anxiously, "that they be over the +rise before those who follow see them." + +So they stood fearfully watching, watching. And Heaven was kind, for +though one great blue blaze of lightning showed the fugitives clear +against the sky line, when the next came there was nothing but the +rugged rocks. + +Then for the first time Baby Akbar, who had been silent in his nurses' +arms, watching with the rest, lifted up his deep-toned baby voice: + +"Daddy, Amma," he said contentedly, "gone up in a 'ky." + +Whereupon Foster-mother wept loudly and prayed that good angels might +protect her darling. + +But Head-nurse was more practical, and set about considering how best +that safety might be secured. Who was there who could help? No one of +much use, truly, though every one was brimful of devotion and ready to +give his or her life for the Heir-to-Empire. + +"I will kill the first man who dares--" began Old Faithful. + +"Aye! The first! But how about the last, old man?" interrupted +Head-nurse. "Force will be of no avail. Askurry hath half an army with +him." + +"Harm shall only come to the child through my body," wept Foster-mother, +whereat Head-nurse laughed scornfully. + +"Woman's flesh is a poor shield, fool! God send we find better +protection than thy carcass." + +"Boo! hoo!" blubbered Meroo the cook-boy. "Lo! Head-nurse! I could kill +a whole army by poisoning their suppers." + +Head-nurse nodded faint approval. "Now, there is some sense in that, +scullion, but what about that they may do supperless? If they should +dare----" + +"They will not dare," said a clear, sharp voice, and Roy the Rajput lad +stepped forward, a light in his great eyes. "My mother used to say, +'Fear not! A king's son is a king's son always, so be that he forgets +not kingship.'" + +Head-nurse stood puzzled for a second, then she caught the meaning of +the lad's words, for she was a clever, capable woman, and had all a +woman's quickness. + +"Thou art right, my lad," she said slowly, looking curiously at Roy, +from whose face the flash of memory seemed to have passed. "Thou art +right. In royalty lies safety. The Heir-to-Empire must receive his +enemies as a King! Quick! slaves! Close the tent door and let us bring +forth all we have, and make all things as regal as we can. There is no +time to lose." + +And they did not lose any. The result being that when, quarter of an +hour afterward, Prince Askurry, bitterly disappointed at finding that +his real quarry, the King and Queen, had escaped, strode with some of +his followers into the tent where he was told Baby Akbar was to be +found, he paused at the door, first in astonishment and then in +amusement. + +It was really rather a pretty picture which he saw. To begin with the +tent had been lit up with the little rushlight lamps they call in India +_chiraghs_--tiny saucers which can be made of mud in which a cotton wick +floats in a few drops of oil--and a row of these outlined the mule trunk +throne. Then Meroo's misshapen limbs had been hidden under a chain +corselet and helmet, so he made quite a respectable fellow to Old +Faithful, as the two supporters stood bolt upright with drawn swords one +on either side, while beneath them, on the ragged old Persian carpet +which had been spread to hide the dirty tent drugget, crouched +Head-nurse and Foster-mother, their faces veiled with their best gold +embroidered veils. + +A great pile of cushions had been placed on the muletrunk, and in the +centre of these sat Baby Akbar, the Royal heron's plume of his turban +waving gently in the breeze caused by the slow dignified sweep of the +Royal fan which Roy, who stood behind his young master, was swinging +backwards and forwards. + +But it was not the prettiness of the picture which made Prince Askurry +pause. It was the child's open fearless face which reminded him at +once--as King Humayon had hoped it might--of that dear, beloved father +whose memory, even in their worst wickednesses, was ever a good +influence in the lives of his sons. Babar the Brave! Babar of the +Generous Heart! the Kindly Smile! Who could forget him? + +But behind Prince Askurry were others who did not remember; who were +eager to kill and have done with Humayon and his son for ever. + +And when they saw Prince Askurry pause, they were quick with advice. + +"It is unwise to spare snakes' spawn," said one. + +[Illustration: _Prince Askurry ... strode ... into the tent._] + +"The boy is father to the man," said another. "He who is wise kills +young rats as well as old ones." + +And still Prince Askurry paused while poor Head-nurse and Wet-nurse went +sick with fear under their veils at what might be going to happen, and +Old Faithful's hand clasped the hilt of his sword tighter, since come +what may he meant to strike one blow for his young master. But Roy's +keen eyes showed--as the peacock's feather fan swept past them backwards +and forwards--like a hawk's as it hovers above a partridge. There was in +them a defiance, a certainty that victory must come. + +Suddenly a wicked laugh filled the tent. "Peace! brothers," said a +sneering voice, "Prince Askurry prefers to leave the snake to fight with +his own son in the future." + +The taunt told. It was true! Better to scotch the snake now, than to +leave it to be dangerous by and by; dangerous perhaps to his own little +son who was but a few years older than Baby Akbar. + +Prince Askurry strode forward drawn sword in hand; but whether he really +meant to use it or not cannot be told, for a very strange thing +happened. Baby Akbar had been listening to the fierce voices just as he +had listened to the angry voices when Adam had refused to salute. And +now he saw some one before him who appeared to have no intention--as +Adam had no intention--of making his reverence; so, remembering the +fine thing he had done when the latter had been naughty, up went the +little hand again, and once more the loud, deep, baby voice said +imperiously: + +"Salute! Slave! salute!" + +The words were barely uttered when by pure chance Prince Askurry's foot +caught in the ragged carpet, and----? + +And down he came flat as a pancake on the floor in the very lowliest +salute that ever was made! + +The next moment, however, he sat up, half-stunned, and looked wrathfully +at his little nephew. + +But Baby Akbar's honest open face was full of grieved sympathy. + +"Poor, poor!" he said, shaking his quaintly crowned head, "tumbu down. +Nanna kiss it, make it well." + +Prince Askurry sat stupidly staring for a moment or two. Then the memory +of many a childish hurt cured by like gracious offer from his father +came back to him, making his heart soft. He sprang to his feet and waved +by his councillors to cruelty. + +"Go, my lords!" he cried fiercely. "Go seek the King who is no true King +if ye will, and kill him. But this boy goes with me to Kandahar; the +stuff of which he is made counts for life, not for death." + +Then with a sudden generous impulse, for he was at heart his father's +son, he held the hilt of his drawn sword in token of vassalage for Baby +Akbar to touch. + +And the child, clever, observant beyond his years, remembering how his +mother had guided his fingers to Old Faithful's weapon, put out his +little hand solemnly and touched it. + +Behind their close-folded veils Head-nurse and Wet-nurse wept for joy. +And the old trooper's grip relaxed and the hard relentless look faded +from Roy's face. + +For here was safety, for a while at any rate, for the Heir-to-Empire. + +He, and Fate between them, had won his first victory. No! his second, +since the first had been the conquering of Adam's obstinacy. + +But for that Baby Akbar might not have behaved with such dignity. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE ROYAL UMBRELLA + + +That night even Roy the Rajput, who as a rule woke every hour to see to +his little master's safety, slept sound. And so did the others, though +they sat up till Foster-father crept in to the tent about midnight, +after having seen the Royal Fugitives safely over the Persian border. Of +course, there was nothing but miles on miles of snowy mountains before +them, nothing but long struggle and privation to be hoped for; still +they were out of India, out of an enemy's country. For which Heaven be +thanked! + +So they wrapped themselves in their quilts and lay down to rest with +hearts eased for the time of immediate anxiety. + +Head-nurse, however, began at once, after her wont, to make plans for +resuming some of the courtly ways which hurry had made impossible. The +gold embroidered royal red umbrella was one thing she was determined to +have. + +But who was to hold it over the Royal Infant? Roy would get tired of it +during a long march. He was but a boy; and after all there should be a +Deputy, Assistant, Second, Umbrella Bearer to Majesty. + +Could Meroo, properly dressed, of course, be promoted to the position? + +She actually woke Foster-father from his well-earned first sleep to +propound this knotty question. + +"Good woman," he murmured patiently, "make what court appointments ye +will. Create the scullion Prime Minister, so I have my sleep." + +And he was snoring almost before the words were out of his mouth. + +So next morning Head-nurse, refusing the baggage camel with panniers +which Prince Askurry sent for the use of the little Heir-to-Empire, +organised a procession of her own. + +First of all came Foster-father, stout and solid, on his skew-bald hill +pony which was called Horse-chestnut because it was patched all over, +like an unripe chestnut, with yellow, brown and white. + +It had a lovely tail that touched the ground, and a coat that was long +and wavy like an Irish setter's. A wise, sober pony was Horse-chestnut; +he never attempted to climb up anything he thought too difficult, but +just gave a look at it to make sure and then put down his head calmly, +and began to graze until his rider found an easier path. + +Next came Trooper Faithful on his old white charger Lightning. Once upon +a time it had been like its name, swift exceedingly, but now, like its +master, it was slow and stiff. + +Then followed Head-nurse, astride, in Indian fashion, the bay Belooch +mare which had been Queen Humeeda's favourite mount until it had had to +be left behind in one of the hasty moves which had of late been so +common in the hunted life of the Royal Fugitives. The mare, of course, +had been taken by the pursuers, and brought along with them; and the +groom in charge of it had come grinning with delight to Foster-father +when he found himself in the same camp again. Foster-father was for +riding the bay mare himself and giving sober Horse-chestnut to the +Heir-to-Empire, but Head-nurse would not hear of this. The bay mare was, +she said, altogether more royal. So there she was, with Baby Akbar +astride a cushion in front, perched on the skittish creature, feeling at +heart very nervous, for she was but a poor rider. However, she held on +very tight with one hand, held Baby Akbar still tighter with the other, +and trusted to Providence, while Roy and Meroo ran beside her on either +side, alternately holding up the Royal Umbrella as best they could. + +Foster-mother on a mule, with little Adam perched in front of her +brought up the rear of the procession. It was a poor one for progress +even along the levels, because of the bay mare's fidgeting and +caperings, but when the steep hill sides were reached it became +impossible to keep up with the rest of the equipage. So Prince Askurry +and his men pushed on ahead leaving the little party alone, since escape +was impossible on that wild mountain road, especially with the rear +guard of the camp coming a few miles behind them. And, indeed, if such +an idea had entered the heads of any of the party it must soon have fled +before the difficulty of getting along at all. It was a steep zig-zag +path, and looking upwards you could see it zigging and zagging right +away to the sky line. Poor Foster-mother, who came last, could not take +her eyes off it, for the bends immediately above her were filled with +the most terrifying sights. First her stout husband, who seemed to be in +the act of slipping over Horse-chestnut's tail. On the next Old +Faithful, driven to dismounting and laboriously lugging Lightning up by +the bridle. But the last zig-zag in front of her called forth piercing +shrieks. For the bay mare, not having been ridden for some time, was +full of beans. Baby Akbar insisted on holding the reins, and Meroo, +whose turn it was to hold the umbrella, _would_ slip and slither among +the stones, thereby bringing its fringe right on the bay mare's nose. + +"Oh! Head-nurse, have a care! The blessed child!" shrieked poor +Foster-mother as a more than usually bad stumble sent the umbrella on to +the mare's tail. + +This was too much for it. Frightened out of its senses, it gave a +frenzied bound forwards, then rearing straight up, hung over the edge of +the path, as if it meant to take a downward plunge. + +All seemed lost! Foster-father and Faithful stood petrified with +despair. Meroo would have dashed forward to catch at the rein but Roy, +knowing with that curious instinct of his, that that would only make +matters worse, as it would still further frighten the mare, held him +back by main force. The only person who was not spellbound with fear was +Baby Akbar. He thought it a fine joke that his mount should stand up on +its hind legs and paw the air. So he shrieked with delight, and dropped +the reins to clap his hands, as he always did when he was pleased. Now +this was the very best thing he, or anybody else, could have done. The +mare, feeling herself free, thought better of it, and wheeling round +dropped her fore feet on the path once more. + +Foster-father's loud Arabic thanksgiving ended in an equally loud order. +"Get off the mare, woman. Horse-chestnut is the only mount thou art fit +for. Roy! carry that foolish umbrella behind." + +"In front--the emblems are ever carried in front," protested Head-nurse +feebly. + +"I said behind," was all the answer she got, and behind it went while +they toiled up and up. + +After a while the road became surprisingly bad; nothing in fact but a +watercourse, and Foster-father began to doubt if they could be on the +right way. Possibly, when they were all excited over the mare's bad +behaviour, they had taken a wrong turning. But as the path led ever +upwards, he judged it better to go on, though it was terribly hard work. +Every moment the road became worse and worse until it ceased to be more +than a mere ladder of rocks which puzzled even Horse-chestnut. More than +once he stopped dead and would no doubt have refused any further attempt +to climb had there been anything at which to graze. But there was +nothing; nothing but rocks. So, after a pause he made the best of a bad +bargain, raised himself on his hind legs, sought a foothold for his fore +feet in some crevice, and then scrambled up. Only the two children +enjoyed themselves, Baby Akbar laughing with delight and clapping his +hands over all the slips and slitherings which even nimble +Horse-chestnut made, and which reduced Head-nurse and Wet-nurse to +piteous wails to Roy not for Heaven's sake to let go of the +Heir-to-Empire's baggy trousers. And Adam enjoyed himself, also, running +on in front and making snowballs in the drifts which, ere long, were to +be seen sheltering from the sun in the clefts of the rocks. + +The sight of them made Foster-father frown. "We go too high," he said. +"Heaven send we have not to climb to a higher pass." + +His remark made Head-nurse give way altogether. She wept loudly, saying +in that case she had better stay and die where she was, thus saving them +the trouble of carrying her down the hill. + +At that very moment, however, Adam who had run far ahead began waving +his arms and shouting: + +"He says 'The top! the top!'" cried Roy, who was keen in hearing as in +everything else. "Courage, mother! our troubles are over!" + +They had not _quite_ ended, but in a few minutes more they had reached +the beginning of the pass proper. Before them lay a grassy boggy slope +curling gently upwards between higher rockier slopes. A little stream +plashed softly adown it, through a perfect wilderness of flowers, and +without one word the tired travellers threw themselves beside it for +rest and refreshment. + +But Baby Akbar looked a little troubled. + +"Amma, Dadda 'way 'way in a 'ky," he said solemnly, and essayed to crawl +on over the grass. For he could not walk yet, though he spoke so well. +They say he began to talk when he was nine months old. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +TUMBU-DOWN + + +After a while the party started on their way once more feeling greatly +brisked up. But the heat of the day was now upon them, and though the +snow lay close beside the path, the fierce sun melting it made the +vapour rise and turned the narrow valley into a regular steam bath. + +The perspiration ran down the travellers' faces and especially down poor +Head-nurse's; for she had insisted on taking off her veil to twist it +turbanwise round Baby Akbar's head since the Royal Umbrella was +forbidden. Foster-mother had tried to take off hers also, but Head-nurse +had angrily forbidden her to do any such thing. If she, Head-nurse, died +of sunstroke what matter, but if Foster-mother failed, what--even though +one back tooth had been gloriously cut--would become of the +Heir-to-Empire, the Admired-of-the-World, the Great-in-Pomp, etc.? + +So, to comfort herself she went on mumbling titles as she struggled +along, the sun beating fiercely on her bare head. Such a quaint head, +with sleek black hair parted and plaited and hung with jewels, even down +the long pigtail of brown wool that was added on to the back to make the +hair look more plentiful. + +It was a piteous sight and Foster-mother was so conscious of the +devotion it meant that she said "Lo! Head-nurse, thou art a good, good +soul though a hard one to me; but I will never, never, never, forget +this day." + +"Nor I," groaned Head-nurse, "but 'tis for the Heir-to-Empire." + +It was a full hour before the slope ended in a level bog, on the other +side of which began a visible descent. Then in the angled hills a blue +shadow began to rise, telling of a valley below them. + +"Bismillah!" (Thanks be to God) cried Foster-father piously. And every +one echoed the remark except Baby Akbar. He turned round and looked back +at the snowy peaks which were beginning to show behind them. + +"Amma, Dadda 'way 'way mountains," he said regretfully and his little +mouth went down as for a cry, when everybody's attention was distracted +by the sudden appearance of a huge furry black dog which came bounding +down the hill side, its big white teeth gleaming as it uttered shrill, +sharp, growling barks. + +Head-nurse and Foster-mother shrieked with fright, little Adam ran like +a hare for the shelter of his mother's petticoats, and Meroo the +cook-boy, remembering his bare legs--for like all Indian scullions he +wore short cotton drawers--squatted down where he was standing, in order +to protect them. Even Roy, brave boy that he was, looked uncomfortable, +and both Foster-father and Old Faithful whipped out their swords. + +These were not needed, however, for the next instant a wild-looking +figure clad in a brown blanket started up from behind a rock and shouted +to the dog. It stopped instantly, but stood still--snarling, though +obedient. + +It was the funniest looking dog you can imagine. Bigger than a big +collie, it was furry all over even to its tail. And it was black as ink. +In fact with its tiny prick ears and small sharp pointed muzzle all lost +in a huge soft black ruff and nothing to be seen but red tongue, white +teeth and beady black eyes, it was a regular golliwog of a dog. + +When Foster-father saw the man in the brown blanket, who from his crook +was evidently a shepherd, he heaved a sigh of relief. "Now," he said, +"we shall be able to find out our way." + +But he was mistaken. The man did not understand a word they said, +neither could they understand a word he said. + +Head-nurse was in despair. "He speaks like a ghost of the desert," she +wept. "We shall all die of starvation before he understands." + +"Die?" echoed Foster-father stoutly. "Not so, woman! There is one +language all understand." + +Whereupon he placed himself right in front of the shepherd, opened his +mouth wide and then shook his head. Next he pointed to his stomach and +shook his head again. Finally he began to chew violently, rubbed his +stomach and grinned. + +The shepherd grinned too and rubbed _his_ stomach, whereupon +Foster-father turned triumphantly to Head-nurse. + +"Said I not sooth, woman," he asked. "Hunger hath a tongue of its own, +and all men know it." + +Once begun, signs soon brought so much understanding, that, whistling to +his dog, the shepherd started down the hill at a great pace, beckoning +them to follow. + +"Not so fast, friend, not so fast!" panted Foster-father, "we be not all +born on a mountain as thou art. And there are women and children, too." +He pointed to poor Head-nurse and Foster-mother, who were indeed +dropping with fatigue, and the man seemed to understand, for he pulled +up. But he had to keep some way off because his dog, who kept close as a +shadow to his master's heels, never ceased growling. So they tramped on +wearily until just below them they saw a _marg_ or mountain upland, +where some goats were grazing. One part of this dipped down into a +little valley, and there, in the shelter of some huge rocks, they saw +two or three small brown blanket tents, such as shepherds use on the +Beluchistan hills. They were just like waggon tilts only not so large. + +Here, at any rate, was prospect of food and rest, and the poor +travellers brisked up again. But alas! between them and the tents lay a +formidable obstacle. Nothing less than a birch-twig bridge over a +rushing stream which filled up the bottom of a wide rift or chasm in the +upland. This chasm stretched right across the upland from a steep rock +which blocked up the head of the little valley, and out of which the +stream gushed, and there was no way of crossing it, so the shepherd +explained by signs, except the birch-twig bridge. Now a birch-twig +bridge is a very terrifying thing to anybody who is not accustomed to +them. It is simply a strong flat plait of birch twigs about nine inches +wide which is flung from one side to the other, and which, of course, +droops and sags like a rope in the middle. Into this plait are stuck +every few feet or so cross sticks, and to these sticks a rope is +fastened as a sort of hand rail. Across such a bridge as this the hill +children walk as easily as an English child does over a great brick +span; but Head-nurse resolutely refused to set foot over it herself, +much less to allow the Heir-to-Empire to risk his neck on such an +appallingly dangerous structure. In vain Foster-father, in order to set +a good example, allowed himself to be led over by the shepherd with his +eyes carefully bandaged lest he should get giddy in the middle by +looking down. As a matter of fact, this only made Head-nurse more +frightened, for, of course, the bridge swung and swayed with the weight +of the men on it. She would sooner, she declared, try to climb Heaven on +a rainbow! That was at least steady. Roy tried to hearten her up by +walking over himself with open eyes, though he felt frightfully dizzy +and had to fling himself flat on the grass to recover when he did get +over. Then Meroo, blubbering loudly that he was going to his death for +his young master, climbed up on the shepherd's back and allowed himself +to be carried over just to show how easy it was. + +It was all in vain! Head-nurse was firm. They must bring the tents to +the Heir-to-Empire; the Heir-to-Empire should not go across a tight rope +to the tents. And there she would have remained had not a great, tall +burly woman with a fat baby on her hip come out of one of the tents, and +grasping the position, stalked over the bridge without even touching the +hand rail, caught Baby Akbar from Foster-mother, who was too taken aback +to resist, set him on her other hip and calmly stalked back again, +leaving the two women too surprised and horrified even to scream. + +But when they saw the Heir-to-Empire safe on the other side, they +consented to be carried across pick-a-back. + +So there they were before long eating goats' milk cheese fried like a +beefsteak and drinking long draughts of a sort of sour milk. + +One of the shepherds could speak a little Persian, and from him +Foster-father, to his great relief, learned that Prince Askurry's camp +was only a mile or two down the valley, so, feeling certain of being +able to reach it before sundown, he called a halt, and they all lay down +to rest in one of the tents, Baby Akbar between his two nurses for +safety sake. For one could never tell, Head-nurse remarked, what might +happen amongst people who spoke the language of ghosts in the desert, +and kept such strange animals. A great golliwog of a black dog who sat +on one side of the tent like an image, watching them as if he meant to +eat them, and a great fluff of a white cat sitting on the other with her +eyes shut as if she did not want to watch them. + +No! Indeed it was impossible to tell what might not happen! + +And that is exactly how it turned out. What _really_ did happen no one +knew. It was Foster-mother who, waking first, let loose a shriek while +still half awake. This roused Head-nurse, who let loose another. For +Baby Akbar was no longer between them. The Heir-to-Empire had gone--had +disappeared--was not to be found! + +Roy was out of the tent in a second, treading in his haste on Meroo, who +was sleeping outside, and who began to howl confusedly. Old Faithful +fumbled for his sword, Foster-father rubbed his eyes as if _they_ must +be at fault. + +But there was no Baby! And what is more, both the black dog and the +white cat had disappeared also; at least they were no longer on the +watch. + +Never was there such a commotion. The rocks resounded with cries and +every one searched everywhere; even in the great tall basket panniers in +which hill shepherds carry their goods and chattels. + +But not one sign of the little fellow was to be found, until--horribly, +dreadfully, near to that awful birch-twig bridge--Foster-mother seized +on a tiny gold-embroidered skull cap that was lying on the grass. + +"It is his!" she sobbed, "it is my darling's! He hath tried to get to +the mountains to his Amma, and he hath fallen from that accursed cats' +cradle. He is dead! He is killed!" + +Every face, except the shepherds', who did not, of course, understand +what was said, turned pale. It was indeed possible, perhaps probable, +that the faithful little soul, who remembered when others forgot, had +tried---- + +It was a terrible thought. But the shepherds, seeing the cap, at once +whistled to their dog, and the one who spoke Persian explained that if +it were shown the cap it would take up the track of the child at once. + +But though they whistled and whistled no dog came. + +Then the shepherds began to look grave and mutter among themselves. + +"What are they saying? What gibberish are they talking?" shrilled poor +Head-nurse, trying to keep hope alive by being angry. The man who spoke +Persian looked at her cheerfully. + +"Only that perhaps the dog has eaten the child. We keep it hungry that +it may chase the wild animals." + +This was too much for the womankind. They simply rent the air with +heartbroken sobs. + +But Foster-father, grave and silent, would not give up hope. Every foot +of the ravine must be searched, first downwards, as, had the child +really fallen into the stream it must have been carried with it. Then as +a last forlorn hope upwards. So, peering down carefully from either +side, they traced the ravine till, gradually becoming shallower, less +steep, it merged into the grassy valley. But there was no sign. Then +sadly they commenced their upward search, until they were close to the +high cliff whence the stream gushed out. Here they found that the ravine +was wider, and at the bottom of it a patch of sand and boulders showed +that there was foothold beside the roaring torrent. + +"I will climb down and see if there is aught," said Roy; "it is easier +here--if he had fallen here, he might--" the tears in his voice +prevented more, as he tucked up his garments preparatory to the +difficult descent. + +But the shepherds raised an urgent outcry. There was a demon in the +cavern, they said, whence the water came. There was no use angering it, +no use in losing another life. + +Roy struggled madly in their detaining hands, but Old Faithful and +Foster-father looked at each other. Whether there was a demon or not it +was a risk to another life and that should not be a young one. + +"No, boy!" said the old warrior stoutly. "This is my task, not thine. I +am good swordsman to begin with, and demons--if there be any--like not a +clean sword thrust. Also I have been pilgrim to Holy Mecca and +demons--if there be any--like not pilgrims' flesh." + +So, muttering prayers and holding his drawn sword in his teeth, since +both hands were needed for the parlous descent, he commenced his task +while the others watched him eagerly. + +About half way down he paused, looked up and called back; but they could +not hear what he said. + +"Take thy sword out of thy mouth, man," shrieked Head-nurse almost +beside herself with grief and rage; "it isn't manners to speak with the +mouth full." + +True enough, but Old Faithful had some difficulty in obeying orders. +However, he managed to steady himself for a moment on his two feet; so +sword in hand he bawled back. + +"'Tis true! There _is_ a demon. It growls. I hear it plainly. Farewell! +I go on, secure in my sword and Holy----" + +Here a foot slipped and he went sliding, slithering, slipping down to +the bottom where, happily only bruised, he sat half-stunned staring in +front of him. + +And then there echoed up to the listeners the most terrible barking, and +yelping, and growling, and spitting, that ever was heard! + +"The demon! The demon!" yelled the shepherds in terror, and ran for +their lives. + +But Roy, ear over the cliff, listened for a second, and the next had +followed Old Faithful. Foster-father was not long behind him, and Meroo +was close on his heels. Foster-mother and Head-nurse were not to be left +out, and somehow they all managed to get down in safety. + +And then they all stood and sat silent and agape with surprise and +delight. + +For what they saw was this. A low cavern in the rock, and on a shelving +bank of dry sand Baby Akbar sitting up and rubbing his eyes, while on +one side of him was the golliwog of a black dog, his fur all bristling, +his white teeth gleaming as he filled the air with furious barks; while +on the other was the white fluff of a cat, her back arched, her tail the +size of two, spitting and growling fiercely. + +How had he got there? Foster-father looked at Foster-mother, Head-nurse +looked at Old Faithful, and Roy looked at Meroo, and they all looked at +each other. + +But Baby Akbar only put out one fat hand towards the black dog and said +"Tumbu," and the other fat hand towards the cat and said "Down," and +that was all he would say. + +He had tumbled down; but how, when, and where, and how the dog and the +cat came to be with him no one ever knew from that day to this. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +ON THE ROAD + + +Naturally when, after an uneventful journey with the shepherd as guide, +they reached Prince Askurry's camp that evening, they came to talk over +the incident. Foster-father was not sparing of Head-nurse. The whole +tissue of misfortunes, which had ended in Baby Akbar so nearly losing +his life--and that he had been spared was simply a miracle--arose from +her insisting on a Royal Procession. But for that, both she and the +child would have gone comfortably on a camel. They would have kept up +with the other baggage animals and none of the distressful events would +have happened. It should not, however, happen again. Of course, +Head-nurse tried to brazen it out and assert that the Heir-to-Empire +could always count on a miracle in his favour; but in her +heart-of-hearts she knew that Foster-father was right. + +So next morning she said nothing when she saw a camel with two panniers +kneeling in front of the tent, ready for its load. _That_ had to be +endured, but she revenged herself by objecting to the black dog and the +white cat, who sat expectantly one on either side, evidently prepared +for a start. + +"Whose are those uncouth beasts?" she asked of Roy angrily. "Did I not +tell those ghosts of the desert who call themselves shepherds to remove +them last night? Why have they come back? Take them away! Catch them! +Tie them up! Such mean born animals have no right to attend the +Mighty-in-Pomp, the Lord-of-Light," etc., etc. + +She rolled out the titles sonorously, determined that if she was docked +of dignity in one way she would have it in another. + +Now it was not very hard to catch the big black golliwog of a dog, even +though he did snarl and snap and try to bite. There were a lot of camp +followers who were only too glad to have the amusement of capturing him, +so, after a very short space poor "Tumbu," for Baby Akbar insisted on +calling him so, was being dragged off at the end of a long rope to his +masters the shepherds, looking very sad, with his tail between his legs. + +But it was quite different with "Down," the cat. She had made up her +mind to stay where she was, and it is very hard, indeed, to make a cat +change its mind when it is once made up. + +So she moved about gently, from one place to the other, purring softly +and looking as mild as milk, her blue eye--for real Persian cats often +have their eyes of different colours and one of them is always +blue--ever so friendly, as if she were just longing to be picked up. +Only the very tip of her bushy tail swayed a little, and that is a sure +sign that a cat is contrary. And contrary Down was. The very instant any +one tried to pick her up--why! she was somewhere else! + +Head-nurse ere long joined in the chase, saying all the rest didn't +understand cats. But she soon lost patience and declaring that she had +never been done by a dumb animal yet, started capture by force. A circle +was formed round the point where Down sat blinking in the sunlight, and +shawls and veils were held up to make it complete. Then step by step +they advanced towards the cat, who, in truth, viewed the enclosing wall +with polite indifference. It was really rather a funny sight to see +stout Head-nurse without her veil tip-toeing in line towards pussy and +shrilling out her orders to the others to close in and be sure to leave +no loopholes. Step by step her voice became more and more triumphant, +and it really seemed as if the cat _must_ be caught this time, for Down +sat sweetly purring until she was actually hidden from sight behind the +high-held screening cloths. + +"Now then! quick!" shrilled Head-nurse. "Close in--close----" + +But her order ended in a scream of fright, for there was pussy in one +flying leap on her bare head, scrabbling up her scanty hair, and with +another away up the hillside leaving nothing but claw-marks behind her! + +Head-nurse wept with angry tears; but Foster-father, always sensible, +said "Enough! cry on the camel if you will, but now is the time to slip +away before the obstinate animal can return." + +There was wisdom in this; therefore Head-nurse composed herself +comfortably in one pannier while Foster-mother, who was lighter, settled +into the other with Baby Akbar. So off they set at the dignified lollop +which camels affect, and Head-nurse began to congratulate herself on +having successfully evaded the "uncouth beasts." + +But there is no counting on cats. If they are here one moment and gone +the next, they are also gone one moment and here the next. So, as the +camel was passing under a thorn tree about half a mile out from camp, a +great fluff of white hair sprang from the branches and landed right in +Head-nurse's broad lap. And there was Mistress Down looking as if butter +wouldn't melt in her mouth, and purring away like a kettle on the boil. + +Head-nurse gave in _altogether_ then. "When a cat really makes up its +mind," she said with forced wisdom, "it is little use any one else +making up theirs!" + +So pussy sat in her lap, and after a while the warmth of the pretty +creature and even the very roughness of the small three-cornered red +tongue that licked her hand, as half-unconsciously she began to stroke +the long soft fur, made her say suddenly: + +"Who knows but it is the Will of the Creator! This mean-born +thing may in the future be of use to the Light-of-the-World, the +Observed-of-all-Observers," etc., etc., etc. + +And her words were to come true, for, as you will see by and bye, Down +was of great use to her little master. Nevertheless when, at the very +next camping ground, a great big black golliwog of a dog with a gnawed +end of rope still round his neck was seen calmly awaiting them at the +door of the tent that was pitched for their reception, Head-nurse became +tearful again and said that if Providence intended to send all the wild +beasts of the field to look after Baby Akbar, there was no need for her; +so she would give up her place. + +But the little Prince himself was delighted. He plumped down on the hot +sand beside the dog and hugged it, calling it "Dear Tumbu," and when the +white cat jealously rubbed her back against his little fat person he +hugged her too and called her "Darling Down." + +"Hark to the Lord-of-the-Universe giving his creatures names!" said +Foster-mother piously. So after that everybody called the golliwog dog +Tumbu, and the fluffy cat Down. + +This was the beginning of a whole week on camel back; a very pleasant +week too, though the minds of the elders were rather on the stretch +concerning the fate of King Humayon and Queen Humeeda. + +Still the sky was as blue as blue could be, the sun shone bright and the +air was crisp with coming winter. Head-nurse spent most of her days +dozing and mumbling long strings of titles in one pannier, while Down +slept and purred on her lap. In the other pannier were Foster-mother and +Baby Akbar. The little fellow did not sleep much, but spent most of his +time craning over the pannier side to see everything there was to be +seen. But what amused him most was to watch Tumbu, who would look up and +bark and gambol for hours to attract his little master's attention. +Whereat Down would become impatient and come over the camel's hump from +the other pannier, rub her back against the little Prince and watch, +too, with a sort of dignified contempt. It was the way of dogs to be +loud and effusive, and gushing; but it didn't mean much. Tumbu, for +instance, despite his display of affection, would leave his post to run +after every wild thing he saw; and though he always came back to it, he +was so helplessly breathless, with half a yard of red tongue hanging +out, that he would have been little use had an enemy turned up and his +protection been needed. + +Cats were far wiser. They sat still and watched; so they were always +ready. + +And one evening Down watched to some purpose. Baby Akbar was asleep on +some quilts and Down, as usual, lay keeping his feet warm, her eyes +closed, purring away like a steaming kettle. + +You would have sworn she was half asleep, but in a second there was one +spring, something reared itself at her to strike, but her paws were too +quick. One, two, three, came the blows swiftly like boxes on the ears, +and there was a snake squirming and helpless in the dust. Old Faithful's +armoured feet were on its head in a second and the danger was over. + +"Truly a cat is a terrible thing," said Head-nurse in a twitter. "There +is no fear in them. The reptile had not a chance." + +But Down was back on her young master's feet, her eyes closed, purring +away as if nothing had happened. + +Tumbu was in favour, however, next evening, but for a different cause. +He appeared with a great prickly porcupine held gingerly in his mouth +and laid it before Baby Akbar. + +"Ohi! Porcupine for supper!" cried Meroo, the cook boy, who knew what a +delicacy it was; but Head-nurse shrieked, "Take it away quick--the +Heir-to-Empire will prick himself with the quills and they are +poisonous. Take it away at once, I say." + +But alas! The Heir-to-Empire was wilful, like all Eastern Princelings, +and he shrieked to match at the suggestion. So there arose such a +hubbub, which was only calmed by Baby Akbar being allowed to do as he +chose. + +"Poor! Poor!" he said as his little hand touched the sharp prickles and +no one found out, till Foster-mother came to put him to bed, that he +really _did_ scratch himself. There was quite a little runnel of blood +on the palm; but Akbar, even when he was a baby, was proud. He knew how +to bear discomfort and punishment when it was his own fault. + +They were all rather merry that night, for they had roast porcupine +stuffed with pistachio nuts for supper. And afterward Roy sat by Baby +Akbar's pile of quilts and sang him to sleep with this royal lullaby: + + "Baby, Baby-ling, + You are always King; + Always wear a crown, + Though you tumble down; + Call each thing your own, + Find each lap a throne; + Dearest, sweetest King, + Baby! Baby-ling!" + +When the child had fallen asleep Roy sat at the door of the tent and +looked at the stars, which shone, as they do in the East, all colours, +like jewels in the velvety sky. They seemed so far away, but not farther +than he seemed to be from himself. For Roy's head had been dreadfully +confused by that sunstroke in the desert. Only that morning something +had seemed to come back to him in a flash, and he had so far forgotten +he was only a page boy as to call the little Heir-to-Empire "Brother," +but Head-nurse's cuff had brought him back to reality in double quick +time. And as he sat there in the dark he saw a man creeping stealthily +to the tent. He was on his feet in a moment challenging him. + +"Hush!" whispered the newcomer, "I bring a message from King Humayon. I +must see Foster-father at once." + +The good man was already between the quilts, but he got up quickly, and +when he had heard the message he sent for Head-nurse and Foster-mother +and Old Faithful, for he felt that a most momentous decision had to be +made. Yet the message was a very simple one. Those in charge of the +child were to creep away that very night with the messenger, who would +guide them in safety to King Humayon, who had found help and shelter in +Persia. + +Head-nurse and Foster-mother wept tears of joy at the glad news, and +proposed at once that they should wrap the child in a blanket and start. +But Foster-father was more wary. + +"You come as a thief in the darkness," he said. "Where is your token +from the king, that I may know who you are?" + +But there was no token. + +"Then the child stays where he is," asserted Foster-father boldly. "Am I +not right oh! Faithful?" + +"Assuredly my lord is right. Who knows but this man may be an emissary +of those who would wile away the little lad from his uncle, Prince +Askurry's protection. His other uncle, Kumran, is not so kind." + +The messenger scowled at the old man. "As you please," he began +blusteringly, "but those who disobey the King's order may find their +lives forfeit." + +"Mine is forfeit already to the child's service," replied Foster-father +with spirit. "And without a token I stir not--Peace! woman," he added to +Head-nurse, who would fain have sided with the messenger, "and go fetch +the Heir-to-Empire's cap. That shall go as sign that he is his father's +vassal, to do what he is told when the order comes accredited. So take +that as my answer to those who sent you, sir messenger!" + +So despite Head-nurse's protestations the man went off with nothing but +the little gold-laced skull cap. And he had not to go far; only into a +tent on the outskirts of the camp. For Foster-father's suspicions had +been correct, and he had been sent to try and entice the child by some +of Prince Kumran's partisans who, booted and spurred, and with a swift +pacing camel for the child, were waiting eagerly for the return of their +messenger. + +Their faces fell as he flung the little cap upon the ground. + +"The old fox is too wary," he said. "We must get at the child some other +way." + +One of the party took up the cap and fingered it, half idly. "He has a +large-sized head for his years," he remarked; "if it be full of brains, +hereafter he may do well." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +AT COURT + + +Of course, the messenger never returned from King Humayon with the +token; but Foster-father was a good-natured man and did not boast of his +wisdom to Head-nurse, who, however, remained wonderfully meek and silent +until at the end of a fortnight's marching they saw, against the blue of +the distant valley, the white domes of the town of Kandahar with the +citadel rising above them. Then, with the chance of a court before her +once more, she began chattering of ceremonials and titles and +etiquettes. + +"Praise be!" she shrilled in her high voice. "No more jiggettings and +joggettings on camel back. I shall be on my own feet once more, and it +shall not be my fault if His just dues are not given to the +Great-in-Pomp----" etc., etc. + +Foster-mother interrupted the string of titles. "So that they harm not +the child," she said, clasping her charge tight. She was always thinking +of his safety, always alarmed for danger; but he, young Turk that he +was, struggled from her arms and pointed to the hills they were leaving +behind them. + +"Dadda, Amma 'way 'way mountains," he repeated once more; then added +cheerfully, "Akka 'way, too." + +"It is a prophecy!" said Old Faithful, overhearing the remark. "Sure +his grand-dad Baber--on whom be peace--had the gift, and this babe may +have inherited it." + +"May have," echoed Head-nurse indignantly. "He has inherited it, and has +much of his own besides. Mark my words! if this child live--which Heaven +grant--he will be the King of Kings! Not two summers old and he talks as +one of three." + +"Aye!" assented Foster-mother, "but he does not walk yet." + +Head-nurse sniffed. "Thou are a foolish soul, woman! Sure either the +feet or the tongue must come first, and for my part I prefer the tongue. +Any babe can walk!" + +And Foster-mother was silent; it was true one could not have everything. + +Their last camp was pitched just outside the city of Kandahar, so that +Prince Askurry could make a regular triumphal entry the next morning and +let everybody see with their own eyes that he had come back victorious, +holding Baby Akbar as prisoner and hostage. + +But this did not suit Head-nurse at all. She had no notion that her +Heir-to-Empire should be stared at as a captive; so, though she started +from camp humbly as ever on the baggage camel, no sooner had they passed +through the arched gate of the city with Prince Askurry well ahead of +them in the narrow streets, than out she whipped the Royal Umbrella +which she had patched up with an old scarlet silk petticoat, and there +was Baby Akbar under its shadow; and, having--young as he was--been +taught to salute to a crowd, he began waving his little fat hand with +much dignity, until the people who had come out to gape whispered among +themselves and said: + +"He looks every inch a king's son." + +"And that is what he is," said a bold voice in the crowd; but though +folk turned to see who spoke, there was no sign of the speaker. For +loyal men had to hide their loyalty in those days. Still the populace +were pleased with the little Prince's bearing, and many a hand was +raised to welcome him. + +Before they reached the frowning palace, indeed, where Prince Askurry +kept a right royal court as Governor of Kandahar, Head-nurse's mind was +full of the things she intended to insist upon for the honour and +dignity of her small charge. Meanwhile she had to obey the order to take +him at once into Princess Sultanam's apartments. Now Princess Sultanam +was Prince Askurry's wife, and she had a boy of her own who was about +three years older than Baby Akbar, and a little daughter who had just +been born about a month before. So, as she lay among cushions at the +farther end of the long room, with Prince Askurry, who had hurried to +see his wife on his return, beside her, she looked suspiciously at the +child which Head-nurse put down on the Persian carpet as soon as she +came into the room; since though others might carry him to the upstarts +at the farther end, _she_ was not going to do so, when _they_ were +clearly bound to come humbly to the Heir-to-Empire and prostrate +themselves before him! + +So there stood Baby Akbar, fair and square, steadying himself by +Head-nurse's petticoats, but for all that looking bold and big and +brave. + +Now Princess Sultanam was a kindly foolish woman at heart, much given to +impulses, and the sight of the upstanding little boy made her think +instantly what a fine man he would make, and that brought another +thought which made her sit up delightedly and clap her hands. + +"I have it, my lord!" she exclaimed, turning to Prince Askurry. "It is a +grand idea! We will betroth our little Amina to this young master. That +will settle everything and they will be the handsomest couple in the +country!" + +Now, strange as this may sound to my readers, Prince Askurry, who was +accustomed to the Indian habit of settling that quite little boys and +girls should marry each other when they grew up, could not help at once +seeing that his wife's suggestion was not such a bad one. It would help +him to keep a hold over the little Heir-to-Empire. If King Humayon +returned it would make him more inclined to forgive, and if he did not, +why! it would prevent cruel brother Kumran from stepping in and getting +all, since as father-in-law to the young king he, Askurry, would be +Regent. + +Still, taken aback, he hummed and hawed. + +"It would be a long time to wait until they are old enough to marry," he +began. + +"Long!" interrupted the lively Princess gaily. "All the longer for +merriment and festivities. Thy daughter, my lord, is already beautiful, +and I'll wager the boy will be a grown man ere we have time to turn +round. So that is settled. Therefore come hither, oh nephew! Jallaluddin +Mahomed Akbar, since that is thy long name, and kiss thy cousin +Amina--Nurse! bring my sweeting hither. Now then, woman," she continued +sharply, addressing Head-nurse, who stood petrified with astonishment +and anger at the very idea of such scant ceremony. "If the boy cannot +walk, carry him!" + +Head-nurse could scarcely speak. To be called "Woman" by an upstart--for +Prince Askurry had married Princess Sultanam for her beauty--was too +much! + +"The Feet-of-the-Most-Condescending-of-Majesties," she began pompously, +"have not yet conferred happiness on the earth by treading it underfoot, +neither----" + +Here she broke off hurriedly, for at that very instant, as if in denial +of her words, Baby Akbar gave a little crow of assent, let go her +petticoats, and with outspread balancing arms, and legs very wide apart, +launched himself boldly for his very first steps! + +"_Bismillah!_" (Well done!) shrieked Foster-mother in delight. + +"_Bismillah! Bismillah!_" echoed every one in the room, while all eyes +full of smiles were on the stalwart young toddler as he lurched forward, +his face one broad grin. + +Princess Sultanam clapped her hands again. "Thy turban, my lord!" she +cried in a flutter of amusement. "Thy turban, quick; as his father is +not here 'tis thy place to prevent him falling of himself--thy +turban--quick! quick!" + +Prince Askurry, full of laughter, pulled off the soft turban he wore--it +was all wound round and round to fit the head like a cap--and in +obedience to the Indian custom, which always prevents a child from +falling of itself in its first attempt at walking, flung it full at the +little lad. It caught him between his outspread balancing arms and over +he went on to the thick pile carpet. + +Foster-mother was beside him in a second, eager to snatch him up and +cover him with kisses; but Baby Akbar wriggled himself from her hold. He +had set himself a task and he meant to do it. + +"Go way!" he said with determination. "Tumbu down. Get up again." + +So, calmly reaching round for the turban which lay beside him, which he +evidently thought had tumbled down too, he clapped it on his head with +both hands, rose to his feet and recommenced his forward lurch; a yard +or two of the fringed turban, which had become unrolled, trailing behind +him like a royal robe. + +It was a quainter little figure than before, but nobody laughed now. +They looked at each other, then at the child staggering along under the +Prince's plumed turban, then at Prince Askurry himself standing +bareheaded before his nephew. + +It was an ill omen. And yet as Head-nurse said proudly when they got +back to the rooms that had been given them in a frowning bastion of the +palace, Baby Akbar had once more scored off his uncle. + +Indeed, she was so cock-a-hoop about it that she stickled for this, and +she stickled for that until the attendants, who were at first inclined +to be civil, began to look askance, and Foster-father had to bid her +hold her tongue. + +"Wise folk leave steel traps alone," he said; "fiddling with them lets +off the spring. Then--pouf!" + +He shook his head significantly. + +"Steel traps?" echoed Head-nurse sniffily, "who is talking of steel +traps?" + +"I am, woman!" replied Foster-father sternly. "I tell you this Kandahar +is as a steel trap ready to snap on us at any moment." + +Head-nurse was silent, even though he also had ventured to call her +"woman"; but she was beginning to learn that nine times out of ten +Foster-father was right. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +WINTER + + +The winter settled in early that year, and with the passes of the hills +blocked by snow, the caravans of laden camels which, in addition to +merchandise of all sorts, brought news from the world to the east and +the world to the west of mountain-clipped Kandahar, ceased to come into +the big bazaar. And the cold kept most people at home, or shivering +beside the glowing braziers set outside the shops. It was not the season +for active work, and so Prince Askurry let it slip by without really +making up his mind what he was to do with Baby Akbar. Meanwhile the +child could live in the bastion of the palace, and play with his little +cousins. Whether he was to be betrothed to Baby Amina or not could be +decided in the spring; this was the time for rest and home comfort +without fear of any disturbing, since none could cross the passes in +winter. + +Princess Sultanam, however, to whom in her seclusion winter and summer +were much alike, grew fond of the little lad, and never ceased to urge +on her husband the wisdom of so treating Prince Akbar, that should King +Humayon by good luck--and he _had_ a knack of being lucky--find himself +again with an army at his back, his hands would be tied from revenge on +the Court at Kabul. + +Now, Askurry was no fool; he saw that, for the present at any rate, +until Humayon's fate was decided, it would be wiser to be kind; so he +decided that when he held the New Year's assemblage he would present the +little prince in due form to the chiefs and nobles. + +Head-nurse was almost crazy with delight at the very idea. She and +Foster-mother sent all their jewels to the goldsmith to be made up into +suitable ornaments for Baby Akbar, and they ransacked the shops for odd +scraps of brocade with which to make him the finest of fine state robes. + +And on the eventful day they began the child's toilette early, pressing +Roy the Rajput into service as tire-woman to hold the ointments, and +scents, and what not, that they deemed necessary for the due dressing of +a Prince. + +So that it rather dashed their spirits when Foster-father came in with a +sober face and the news that a man had come into the bazaar bringing bad +tidings of the King and Queen. They had, he said, been lost in the snow; +but whether this was true or not, who could tell? + +"Then what is the use of worrying?" snapped Head-nurse, who was too much +occupied in making her charge beautiful to think of other things. "Lo! +Foster-father, evil is never lost on the road. It arrives sooner or +later, so why watch for it at the door?" + +"That is true," replied Foster-father, "but mark my words, all depends +on good news. If that comes, the child is safe; if evil--then God help +him!" + +Roy, who, Baby Akbar being nearly dressed, was now holding the pot of +lamp-black and oil with which Head-nurse, after the Indian custom, would +put a finishing touch to her work by smearing a big black smut on the +child's forehead, lest he should be too sweet and so attract an envious, +evil eye, looked up at the words, his face full of light and +remembrance. + +"God does help true kingship," he said proudly. "Mother used to say so, +and that is why she was never afraid--" He paused and the light in his +face faded. "I--I don't remember any more," he added apologetically. + +"Remembrance or no," snapped Head-nurse, "hold the pot straight, boy, or +thou wilt spill it over the Mighty-in-Pomp, the Admired-of-the-World," +etc. + +But Foster-father looked at Old Faithful and laid his hand kindly on +Roy's shoulder. "It matters not, Roy! It is there within thee, all the +same. And 'twill come back some day, never fear. And I for one," he +added aside to the old trooper, "should not wonder at much; for the +lad's manners are ever above his present station." + +Old Faithful shook his head wisely. "'Tis not the boy's manners, +friend," he said, "but his breed. A man may compass manners for himself, +but not that his father should have had them also." + +By this time the black smear was on Baby Akbar's forehead, and despite +the smudge, he looked a very fine little fellow indeed. So much so that +quite a murmur of delighted admiration ran round the assemblage when +Askurry appeared, leading him by the hand; for he had quickly learned to +run about and was now quite steady on his legs. + +"A chip of the old block," said an ancient mountain chief, who had known +his grandfather Babar, and many others nodded assent. Then Prince +Askurry began a set speech, little Akbar seated on his knee the while. + +It was a very clever, crafty speech, that could be taken two ways, and +Prince Askurry was so much interested in it, and making sure that he was +neither too disloyal or too loyal to his unfortunate brother, the King, +that he did not notice what was passing on his knee until a sudden lack +of attention on the part of his audience made him follow their eyes, and +look down at the child upon his lap. + +And then? + +Then he sat dumbfounded, his face flushing to a dull, dark red, for he +saw in a moment what the thing that had happened would mean to those +others--the audience before him--the men he had summoned to listen to +his half-hearted words. + +Yet it was a very simple little thing. Baby Akbar, tired, doubtless, of +his uncle's speechifying, had found amusement in a slender gold chain +which hung round his uncle's neck; had traced it to a secret pocket in +his inner waistcoat, and so had drawn out from its hiding place a golden +signet ring, set with an engraved emerald. A toy indeed! So after +playing with it for a bit the child had slipped it onto his little +forefinger, which he held up the better to admire his new-found +treasure. So it came to pass that as Askurry's smooth, oily voice went +on and on, those who listened could see a little image sitting on his +knee. + +A dignified, gracious-looking image with forefinger held up in the +attitude of kingly command; and on that forefinger--what? + +The Signet of the King! + +The Ring of Empire! + +It was unmistakable! Askurry must have found it in his fugitive +brother's tent. He must have concealed it. Uncertain what part he meant +to play in the end, he must have worn it on his person until the +child--the true Heir-to-Empire---- + +The chiefs looked at each other furtively. There was a pause. Then +suddenly an old, thin voice--the voice of the old mountain chief, who +remembered Babar the brave--rose on the silence. + +"God save the Heir-to-Empire!" + +It gave the lead, and from every side rose the cry: + +"God save the Heir-to-Empire!" + +[Illustration: _The child had slipped it onto his little +forefinger._] + +Prince Askurry's face fell. He had not meant to rouse loyalty, but he +was quick and clever, so he saw that it _had_ been roused, and that now +was not the time to try and stifle it. So his frown turned to a smile as +he caught the child to him and rose, holding him in his arms. + +"The rogue, my lords," he said lightly, "has forestalled me. I meant to +place the ring upon his finger myself before you all, in token that he +does in truth represent our King, but praise be to Heaven! he has saved +me the task. Long live the Heir-to-Empire!" + +But the nobles as they passed out of the assembly, and the people who +heard the tale outside, said it was a strange happening that the +innocent child should so claim his right. And cruel brother Kumran's +party laid their heads together once more, and swore it was time to end +Prince Askurry's foolish hesitation. They must get at the child somehow. + +But by this time, if Prince Askurry had not quite made up his mind how +he should treat Baby Akbar, he had quite settled that no one else--least +of all cruel brother Kumran--should have anything to do with the child. +So the little prince was carefully watched and guarded, rather to +Foster-father's and Old Faithful's relief. Indeed, as time went on they +almost forgot to watch themselves, being accustomed to see the sentry +walking up and down before the entry to the narrow stairs that led up to +the three rooms in the old bastion which were given them as lodgings. +They were large, comfortable rooms, and the inner one was used by +Foster-mother, Head-nurse and Baby Akbar, the outer one by the two men +and the two boys, while the middle one, a great wide hall of a place, +they used as a living room. It was lighter than the others, since it had +slits of windows--without glass, of course--high up in the walls, and +though these let the cold as well as the winter sunshine into the room, +there was a roaring great fireplace, which kept the farther end of the +hall nice and warm. And here on very frosty nights the women folk would +drag their beds and sleep, while during the snowy days they would spread +quilts on the floor, and Baby Akbar would have high jinks with Tumbu and +Down, who were his constant playmates. Then, when he was tired, Roy +would cradle his young master in his arms and sing to him. Not +lullabies, for little Akbar's mind kept pace with his body, and every +month saw him more and more of a boy and less and less of a baby. + +"Tell me how Rajah Rasalu did this," or "Tell me how Rajah Rasalu did +that," he would say; and so Roy's boyish voice would go over the old +story of endless adventures, which has delighted so many Indian children +for so many generations. + +So time passed quite merrily until one night, when something dreadful +happened. So dreadful that it will really require another chapter to +describe it. But it was one night when Roy had been telling the little +prince how "Rajah Rasalu's friends forsook him for fear." And as this is +rather a nice story, it shall be told here. + +"You know, great Kingly child," began Roy, "how Rajah Rasalu was born +and how Rajah Rasalu set out into the world to seek for fortune, taking +with him his dear horse, Baunwa-iraki, his parrot, Kilkila, who had +lived with him since he was born, besides the Carpenter-lad and the +Goldsmith-lad, who had sworn never to leave their young master. So he +journeyed north to a lonely place, all set with sombre trees. And the +night was dark, so he set a watch, and the goldsmith took the first, +while the young prince slept by the Carpenter-lad, on a couch of clean, +sweet leaves. And lest the heart of the prince should sink, they sang a +cheering song: + + "'Cradled till now on softest down, + Leaves are thy bed to-night; + Yet grieve not thou at fortune's frown, + Brave men heed not her slight.' + +"And while they slept and the goldsmith watched, a snake slid out from +the trees. 'Now, who are you?' quoth the Goldsmith-lad, 'who come to +disturb his rest?' 'Lo! I have killed all living things that have +ventured within ten miles of this my place of rest,' it hissed, 'and now +I will slay you, too!' So they fought and fought, but the Goldsmith-lad +he killed the snake in the end. Then he hid the body under his shield, +lest the others might be afraid, and he roused from his rest the +Carpenter-lad, to take his share of the watch, while he, in his turn, on +the clean, sweet leaves lay down beside the prince. And while they +slept, and the Carpenter watched, a dragon slid from the trees. 'Now, +who are you?' quoth the Carpenter-lad, 'who come to disturb his rest?' +'Lo! I have killed all living things for twenty miles round this place; +and I'll kill you, too,' it roared, 'and crack your bones to eat.' So +they fought and fought and fought till he killed the dragon at last. +Then he hid the body behind a bush lest the others should be afraid, and +roused Rasalu from out his sleep to take his share of the watch; while +he in turn by the Goldsmith-lad lay down to take his rest. + +"And while they slept and Rasalu waked a THING slid out from the trees; +an awful THING! No man could tell th' unspeakable horror of it. But +Rasalu smiled in its face of dread, and laughed in, its horrible eyes. +'Pray, who are you to disturb our rest, and why do you dare to come?' +'Lo! I have killed all living things for twenty times twenty miles, and +I will kill you, upstart boy, and crack your bones to dust.' + +"So they fought and fought and fought, and Rasalu drew his bow, and the +arrow fled like the wind and pierced the Awful Horror through. Then it +fled to a cave close by, with Rasalu at its heels. So they fought and +fought and fought till the dawn showed clear in the sky, and the Awful +Horror gave up with a groan and rolled on its side and died. Now, just +as Rasalu wiped his sword the sleepers awoke from their sleep. 'See +here!' said the Goldsmith-lad with pride, 'what I killed in my lonely +watch.' 'Pooh! only a snake!' said the Carpenter-lad; 'see the dragon I +have killed.' But Rasalu took them both by the hand and led them into +the cave; but dead as it was, they shrieked with fear at the Awful +Horror they saw. And they fell at Rasalu's feet and groaned and moaned +and prayed and wept. 'Let us go! Oh, hero, we are but men. We dare not +follow you now. It is nothing to you; it is death to us to follow and be +your friends.' + +"Then tears came into Rasalu's eyes, but he said no word of nay. 'Do as +you will,' he said to them. '_I_ will not bid you stay. + + "'Aloes linger long before they flower, + Gracious rain too soon is overpast; + Youth and strength are with us but an hour, + All glad life must end in death at last. + But king reigns king without consent of courtier, + Rulers may rule, though none heed their command; + Heaven-crowned heads, stoop not, but rise the haughtier, + Alone and friendless in a strangers' land.' + +"So his friends forsook him and fled. But Rasalu went on his way." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +DOWN'S STRATAGEM + + +Now the terrible thing that happened was one which Foster-father might +have expected, but for two things. + +One was the sentry who walked up and down all night long below the high +second-story windows of the central room. He would be bound to see any +attempt to gain an entrance through them, even if they were wide enough +to admit the entry of a grown man, which they were not. + +The other was the fact that he, Old Faithful, Meroo and Roy all slept in +the outer room, into which the only door opened, so that any intruder +would have to force an entrance over their bodies; for they slept with +drawn swords beside them. + +So as the days passed on Foster-father's vigilance--though he knew that +cruel brother Kumran's agents were on the lookout for any opportunity of +kidnapping the Heir-to-Empire--slackened somewhat, especially when the +afternoons drew in, the fire in the big hall was made up, the quilts put +down and Baby Akbar, surrounded by his admiring circle, listened to +Roy's stories or tumbled about with his playmates, Tumbu, the dog, and +Down, the cat. + +One day, however, Down did not appear until little Akbar was having his +supper, and then she came in a great hurry out of a small archway by the +big fireplace, which led to a sort of cupboard in the masonry, where +charcoal had been kept, gobbled up a plate of bread and milk, and +hurried in again as if she had to catch a train. + +"She has had kittens," said Foster-mother; "I wonder if they are white +or black." + +"Black!" sniffed Head-nurse. "What else could they be in that hole? Have +a care, woman! or the Heir-to-Empire will be blacking himself, too. The +archway is large enough for him to creep in, and Heaven only knows +whither it might lead." + +"That is true," replied Foster-mother, alarmed, as she distracted the +child's attention. + +But in a day or two his quick ear caught the sound of a feeble mewing +inside the arch, and, of course, he wanted to know what it was. So he +was told that kittens had to be kept quiet and that Down would be very +vexed if her kitten was disturbed; but that by-and-bye she would +doubtless bring it out for him to see, and then, of course, he could +play with it. Now, Baby Akbar was always a reasonable little fellow, so +he waited patiently; though every night when he went to bed and Down +came out for her supper, his little mouth would go down and he would +hold up his little hands and twiddle them round and say mournfully: + +"Kitty not 'weady. Kitty not 'weady." + +Now, one night there was a great festival in the palace, and the +Heir-to-Empire had to go and pay his respects, after the Indian manner +on feast days, to his aunt and uncle. Then, when he returned, they sent +him, after Indian wont, trays full of fruit and sugar-toffee made in the +shape of animals, and a few pieces of muslin and stuffs to make new +dresses for the party. In addition to this there was a trayful of +supper, which came afterward, when daylight had gone, with the Princess +Sultanum's best compliments. At least so said the man who brought it; +but he did not wait to be questioned, and disappeared so soon as Meroo +had taken the tray from him. + +But it was full of the most delicious dainties, including a bowl of +sweet milk made with almonds and honey and rice meal for Baby Akbar. + +Head-nurse, however, would not let him eat it. She was always afraid of +the little lad being poisoned, so Meroo always cooked with his own hands +everything the child ate. Therefore they gave it to Tumbu instead; for, +having been brought up by shepherds, he loved milk, and he licked his +lips after it and was soon sound asleep by the fire. + +The lamb stewed with pistachio nuts and full of saffron looked, however, +so delicious that after Meroo had tasted it and pronounced it quite +safe, since all knew that saffron would not go with real poison, they +set to work and finished the platter. + +They were all as jolly as could be afterward, though the heat of the +fire and their heavy supper made them sleepy; so Head-nurse, declaring +it was far too cold in the inner room, dragged her bed and +Foster-mother's close to the fire, the others retired to the outer room, +and before long they were all snoring away quite happily. + +For if the supper had not truly been poisoned, it had been drugged. +Drugged with sleep-bringing drugs. + +So, as the firelight flickered over the room faintly, it showed +Head-nurse's face and Foster-mother's face and even Tumbu's black muzzle +in a dead sleep that was almost unconsciousness. And in the outer room +Foster-father snored, and even Roy's keen, hawk-face lay like one dead. +Only Baby Akbar tossed and turned in his comfortable nest between his +two nurses. + +Save for this, due to Head-nurse's precaution in not allowing the +Heir-to-Empire sweet milk for supper, all was as cruel brother Kumran's +agents had planned when they had sent the pretended messenger from the +palace with the platter of delicacies. Even the sentry below was +sleeping sound after his share of kid curry. + +Thus, those who were on the roof waiting until the moon had set and they +could without fear of discovery lower the young lad, who was to steal +Baby Akbar, down to the window (through which, being slender, the thief +could slip easily), felt that their task was almost done. + +But they reckoned without a great white fluff which after a time showed +itself at the entry to the charcoal bunker, yawning and stretching and +blinking its eyes. Head-nurse had been quite wrong in saying Down's +kitten must be black in that hole! Its mother, anyhow, was beautifully +white, perhaps because Down was a sensible cat and had only chosen the +charcoal bunker because she had found a lot of old straw and a blanket +tucked away in its farther corner. Besides, as she only had one kitten, +she could spend all her time in licking it and cleaning it with her +rough, red tongue, after the manner of cats. Anyhow, there it lay, right +out of reach of any one, a little bundle of white fluff, and Down was +just beginning to feel that there were other things in the world besides +kittens. For instance, was that scratching on the roof, think you, a +mouse? If so--? She passed to the fire. It was warm and nice; just the +very place for a kitten's first look at the world, and there were no +troublesome people about; not but what she was anxious to show her +kitten to Baby Akbar. But who knew if horrid Head-nurse might not try to +catch it? But Head-nurse was asleep. Down whisked her tail, disappeared +through the archway, and reappeared again gingerly, carrying the kitten +in her mouth. It sprawled in the firelight and mewed piteously. And +there was that scratching on the roof again ... really, kittens were a +bore when one wanted to mouse.... + +So far it is easy to follow Down's thoughts. What came next is more +difficult. No one can say whether the cat had _really_ any notion that +danger to her young master was abroad, or whether she only wanted to +show him her kitten, or whether she wanted it taken care of--for Persian +cats, if they kill a rat at night, have often been known to jump on +their master's bed and insist on his taking custody of their prize lest +it should somehow come to life again if they left it alone--only this +was certain, Baby Akbar woke with a rough, red tongue licking his nose, +and there, on the quilt, was Down beside the fluffiest, darlingest +little kitten that ever was! + +He made a grab at it with his little fat hands. Whether this frightened +its anxious mother or whether Down really had a purpose in view, who can +say? Only this is sure: she was off the bed in a second, Miss Kitten in +her mouth. A minute afterward Baby Akbar was off it also with a little +crow of delight. But the drugged nurses did not stir; they were away in +the Land of Dreams. And hark! what was that curious noise outside the +window, as if something was slipping down the wall? Perhaps it was +_that_ that frightened Down once more; for just as Baby Akbar's hand +reached out to lay hold of the kitten, which she had set down by the +fire, Down snatched it up again and was off with it back to the +charcoal bunker, with Baby Akbar after her, his face full of solemn +resolve. He meant to play with that kitty. + +And play with her he did. At least, after he disappeared down the +archway by the fireplace he did not come out again. Only Down reappeared +and seated herself at the entrance, her ears cocked, her eyes fixed on +the window. + +For something very funny had happened there, which, though the flicker +of the fire had died down, she could see with her cat's eyes. + +A lad had slipped in, carrying the end of a rope, to which was attached +a network bag. And now, since it was dark, he was striking a light. A +feeble little glimmer, but sufficient to show the two sleeping nurses +and the comfy little nest of quilts between them. But it was empty! + +The boy seemed puzzled, and went into the inner room, only to return +without what he sought. Then he stole into the outer room, but came back +softly with a puzzled look on his face. Then he began to peer about him +on the floor, and in the corners, holding the feeble light in front of +him. Whereupon Down, apparently to satisfy herself that her kitten +really was safe in the corner of the charcoal bunker where she had left +it, retreated for a moment, so that as the searcher came round he saw +nothing but the low, round arch. The next he gave a stifled yell, for +something white that was all claws leaped right in his face, over he +went and out went his light. + +"I look no more," he said, shivering as, after five minutes' hasty +retreat, he stood on the roof among those who had sent him down. "Let +some one else go; but I tell you the child is not there." + +But one of the crafty, cruel men had sharp wits. "Could he have crept +into the charcoal bunker?" he suggested, and the faces round him lit up. +But the lad's remained sullen, as he wiped the blood from Down's +scratches. + +"Mayhap," he said. "_But I go not near that cat again!_" + +So, as no one else was small enough to slip through the narrow slits of +windows, the conspirators could only curse their bad luck. + +Thus it came to pass that the hours passed by without further attempt at +baby-theft, while Foster-father snored and Head-nurse dreamed the most +heavenly dreams of wonderful court ceremonials, and all the others were +wrapped in the profoundest slumbers. + +But they all woke at last, and once more there was the most terrible +hullabaloo until Foster-mother recollected the kitten in the charcoal +bunker. Whereupon every one in turn flattened themselves on the floor +and reached in, and Roy actually got his head and one shoulder in; but +no one could feel anything or find out how big it was or anything about +it. Whereupon the two women began mutual recriminations and the men +stood helpless, when suddenly Down appeared with the kitten in her +mouth, and Baby Akbar, who had evidently been comfortably asleep on the +blanket amid the straw, came crawling after his new pet. + +"So far so good!" said Foster-father, who, noticing a fallen piece of +mortar at the window-sill, had been carefully examining certain signs +and scratches both without and within, "but if I be not much mistaken, +some one hath been through here this night. And that we were all drugged +ye must know if the inside of your mouths be like mine! So we have to +thank Heaven and the cat for an escape!" + +And so they had, though it was a sore trial once more to the women to +have nothing but guesswork to go upon. + +"I wish I knew," murmured poor Foster-mother mournfully, as she watched +Baby Akbar, and Down, and the kitten, and Tumbu, all playing together +before the fire. + +But once more Baby Akbar was silent, and Down told nobody--unless it was +Tumbu. Perhaps he _did_ know, because he allowed Down's kitten to play +with his tail! + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +SPRING + + +Winter passed to spring and spring to early summer, and yet no certain +news came of King Humayon or Queen Humeeda. Foster-father almost gave up +hope, yet he said little, though he took counsel with Old Faithful, and +he in his turn consulted the old mountain chief, who at the assemblage +had been the first to cry, "Long live the Heir-to-Empire." + +But the old man shook his head. The times were new, he said; very few +people remembered, as he did, the old ways, the old Kings. But for the +sake of Babar the brave they might always count on his sword and the +sabres of fifty or more of his followers. So, if the worst came to the +worst, they were welcome to an asylum in his eagle's eyrie of a +fortress, where at any rate they could all die together fighting for the +King; and what more did any brave man want? + +This was not much consolation to Foster-father, who felt that there was +nothing to be done, save by every means in his power, to curry favour +with the Princess Sultanum. + +But, indeed, the little Heir-to-Empire made himself friends wherever he +went; they could not help liking the frank little fellow who spoke to +them so freely, with a certain grave dignity of his own. For by the +time the peach gardens around Kandahar lay like clouds of pink and white +about the old domed city, little Prince Akbar was in looks and ways a +child of three or even four; so big and strong was he. He spoke +perfectly in his childish way, with great emphasis and a curious, soft +burr over his r's and h's. And he actually tried to wrestle with his +cousin Ibrahim, who was, however, rather a puny boy, despite the fact +that he was three years older than the little Heir-to-Empire. + +But with Roy as playmate Akbar began all sorts of games. There was a +high, walled peach garden not far from the bastion, where the little +Prince used to be allowed to go; and there, during the long sunny hours, +the Rajput lad, to whom such things were all curiously familiar, taught +the child how to ride on Tumbu's back, and how to hold a spear. Aye! and +to take a tent peg, too; the peg being only a soft carrot stuck in the +earth! But the great game was shooting with a bow and arrow, and in +this, before spring passed to summer, the pupil was a match with his +teacher except in strength; for, from the very beginning, Akbar showed +himself steady and straight as a shot; so it is no wonder he grew up to +be the finest marksman in India. But it would take too long to tell all +the games they played, all the manly sports which the little prince +learned without any difficulty. There was a shallow marble tank in the +middle of the garden, where he took to the water like a duck, and would +lie on his back and kick and shout with laughter as the tank got rough +with waves, till Foster-mother would beg him not to drown, as the water +splashed over him high in the air. + +But Foster-father always reproved her for her fears. "Leave the lad to +learn King's ways," he said, "and thank Heaven the Rajput foundling is +here to teach him. Think you _I_ could tumble head over heels in air or +water or ride bareback standing on one leg?" + +"No, indeed!" would reply Head-nurse, who stifled her terrors from a +sense of duty, "none, seeing thy figure, friend, would ask so much of +thee." + +Then, when Akbar grew tired, Roy would sit leaning his back against a +peach tree so as to make a soft pillow for his little master, and Akbar +would lean against him and listen to endless stories while the soft +fresh breeze stole over the garden wall, and sent showers of pink peach +petals on both the boys. And sometimes the little Prince, outwearied, +would fall asleep, and then Roy would sit still as a mouse, gently +flicking away with the end of his muslin turban the blossoms that fell +on the little sleeper's face. But his thoughts would be busy, wondering +above other things why it was that, do what he would, he could not help +when they were alone at play sometimes calling the Heir-to-Empire +"little brother." It was dreadfully wrong of him, of course, and +Head-nurse would rightly cuff his ears if she overheard it! + +Then Akbar would wake and call imperiously for some favourite story, and +as often as not it would be the tale of "How Rajah Rasalu swung the +Seventy Maidens." + +And Roy would reply submissively: "It is ordered, Highness!" and begin: + +"Now Rajah Rasalu, soft heart and strong, heard a pitiful voice as he +rode along. 'Oh traveller! traveller! turn aside, and help God's +creature,' it moaned and cried. So the Prince turned straight and saw +that a fire had caught a bush, blazing higher and higher, while a tiny +cricket lay gasping for breath, half-scorched, half-choked, and nigh to +its death. Then Rajah Rasalu, soft hearted and stout, put his hand in +the fire and snatched it out! And the cricket drew forth a feeler and +said: 'Take this, my preserver, 'twill bring you aid; should _any_ thing +_ever_ prove troublesome, burn _this_ in the fire and _I_ will come.' +Then Rasalu laughed with a great big laugh, 'I thank you, weakling! But +none of your chaff! _You_ couldn't help _me_ I'll go bail.' So he rode +on careless o'er hill and dale, a glittering knight in his shining mail, +till he came to the city of King Surkap, whom he'd sworn to kill with +his sword so sharp. Now as he rode through a garden gay, Seventy Maidens +barred the way; Seventy Maidens young and fair, with flowers decking +their golden hair. Seventy daughters of the king, come out to play and +laugh and swing and jibe at the stripling who'd sworn to slay their +father, the mightiest king of this day. But the youngest maid had a +heart of gold, and when she saw Rasalu so bold, and strong and handsome +riding to death, on his horse Iraki, she caught her breath, and +whispered to him as he passed her way: + + "'Fair prince on thy charger so gray, + Turn thee back, turn thee back. + If thou lowerest thy lance for the fray, + Thy head will be forfeit to-day. + Dost love life? then, stranger! I pray + Turn thee back--turn thee back.' + +"But Rasalu smiled in the maiden's face, and drew his rein for an +instant's space, while he gave her answer with courtly grace: 'Fair +maiden, I come from afar, sworn conqueror in love and in war. Thy father +my coming will rue, for his head in four pieces I'll hew. Then forth as +a bridegroom I'll ride with you, little maid, as my bride.' + +"Now at these words, and his face so kind, and strong, and brave, the +maiden's mind fluttered, the blood through her heartstrings whirled, she +felt she could follow him through the world; but her sixty-nine sisters +were jealous and cried: 'Not so fast, young man! If _she_ be your bride, +_you_ be our younger brother, beside! So do our bidding or go on your +way.' 'Fair sisters,' quoth he, 'let me hear your say!' Now the sisters +vowed he should not succeed, so they took a whole hundred-weight of +seed, as fine as the hundred-weight of sand they mixed it with, then +gave command: 'If you wish to marry our sister, sir, take the seed from +the sand without demur.' + +"Then Rajah Rasalu stood aghast; but he thought of the cricket's gift at +last, and taking it out of his pocket thrust it into the fire, and a +cloud as dust showed in the sky and the distant whirr of thousands of +wings caused the air to stir, as, dark'ning the day like a fun'ral pall, +a flight of crickets appeared at the call. 'What is our task?' asked his +friend with a laugh; 'only _that_? I've brought too many by half!' So +they set to work with a will indeed, till the sand lay separate from the +seed, and sixty-nine maidens pouted and frowned as they wondered _what_ +new task could be found, to puzzle Rasalu and keep him there a slave to +the wishes of maidens fair. 'Now swing us all, sir, one by one, when we +grow tired your task is done!'--they laughed in their sleeve, for they +knew right well, that when they'd be tired, none could tell! + +"But Rasalu laughed: 'What! seventy girls--for my little bride is the +pearl of pearls--and only one man to swing the lot! Shall I spend my +life in such silly rot? No! into one swing the seventy go; I'll fasten +the rope to my mighty bow, and shoot an arrow for all I know, so in +with you, girls, sit all in a row, and don't be frightened, my little +dears, I'll swing till you're tired, so have no fears.' + +"Then the seventy clambered into one swing--so merry, so careless, their +voices ring. And Rasalu stood in his shining array, as merry and +careless as happy as they. He fastened the ropes to his mighty bow, and +bent till it would no further go; then with a twang he loosed the +string, and like an arrow the laden swing with its burden of seventy +maidens fair, shot like an arrow into the air. Merry and careless with +laugh and smile, up in the sky for many a mile; like a soaring bird in +the distant blue, while merry and careless, and tall and true, Rasalu +waited upon the plain, till the swing swung back to its place again. +Then he out with his sword and laughed anew, 'Ye have had a fine ride, +ye giggling crew; enough and to spare, so out with you there!' Then he +severed the ropes with one mighty sweep, and the seventy maidens fell in +a heap; and some were broken and some were bruised, and the only one +that was not ill-used was the youngest maid, for she did not drop till +the very last, so she fell on top!" + +And here Prince Akbar used always to laugh gravely and say: "Glad she +didn't tumble down _really_, for she was a nice little girl." + +One day when the peach blossoms had all floated away, leaving in their +place grey-green fluffy ovals that by-and-bye would be luscious ripe +fruits, Foster-father arrived in a great state of excitement just as +Rasalu had finished swinging his Seventy Maidens. + +"News, news!" he cried; "real news at last; and thank Heaven they are +good! My master, the King, has not only secured shelter, but help, and +hath written to his brother, Prince Askurry, advising him not to listen +to ill advice, but to give in his allegiance at once, when all shall be +forgotten. In token of which clemency he is sending to his +still-dearly-beloved brother, Her Royal Highness the Princess Bakshee +Bani Begum, that she may be a companion to her half-brother, the +Heir-to-Empire." + +Prince Akbar, who was leaning on Roy's breast, suddenly sat up. "Is that +my sister?" he asked eagerly, "is she a nice little girl like Rasalu's +bride?" + +Head-nurse laughed. "Nice enough I'll warrant, though I never saw her; +she has been since she was born, six years past, with her mother's +people; but so long as they send no fine ladies of nurses with her she +is welcome." + +Little Prince Akbar stood up and stretched himself, and looked at +Head-nurse critically. + +"Akka will welcome her, and Akka will tell you to be her nurse, and Akka +will swing her a great big swing." + +So far as he was concerned _that_ settled the question; but up at the +Court there were endless questionings of heart. Prince Askurry was, as +ever, in two minds as to what he should do. Cruel brother Kumran, who +was Governor at Kabul, pressed his advice to stand firm, to send the +child to him, to let him show King Humayon that paid Persian troops +could not stand up against Indian ones. But Princess Sultanum had really +become fond of the little Heir-to-Empire, and felt sure that if they +only played their cards carefully the king, out of gratitude, would +consent to a betrothal between his son and her little daughter Amina. +And in the end the wife's counsel prevailed. So a better lodgment was +found for the royal children in an old palace surrounded by a lovely +garden, and here, just as the roses were beginning to bloom, little +Prince Akbar, dressed in his best, stood awaiting his sister's arrival. +He had insisted on having, like Rajah Rasalu, a coat of mail; so +Foster-mother had made him a tight-fitting corselet of silver tissue, in +which he looked very fine indeed, as he stood brandishing a wooden sword +covered with tin foil. + +But when the red and gold bedecked camel did finally come up the +marble-paved pathway with silent soft elastic swing, little Akbar forgot +all about the part he was playing, and when he saw his sister, just ran +up to her and hugged her tight, and said breathlessly: "Ah! you are a +nice little girl!" + +And a very nice little girl she was! Very small for her age, with a +little oval delicate face, big hazel eyes, and brownish hair all plaited +in tiny, tiny little plaits on her forehead. + +And she was dressed just like a grown-up, with little ear-rings and +wristlets and anklets and necklaces and rings, with the dearest, +daintiest of flimsey gauze veils set with little silver stars wound all +about her! Never, said Head-nurse, had been such a darling little +marionette, and when the small person fell gracefully at her brother's +feet and begged his favour in a little piping voice, that stern believer +in court etiquette was perfectly enchanted. + +"It will be a real boon to the First-Gentleman-of-the-World, the +Courtly-one-of-Courts, etc., etc., to have the society of his equals," +she said with a darkling look at Princess Sultanum's Head-nurse, who had +brought Prince Ibrahim and Baby Amina to welcome their cousin. + +But, after all, Bakshee Bani Begum did not turn out so demure as she +looked! Indeed, when Head-nurse was not by, she was a regular tomboy; +and after a whole morning spent in most lady-like fashion either playing +with her dolls, or stringing beads, while Down, the cat, on her lap +blinked and purred and stared out on the world with her big blue eyes +and her little white feet tucked well inside, she would, when the women +retired to get ready the mid-day meal, spring up like a squirrel, +scattering beads and cats as if they were of no account! Then the +garden would re-echo to children's laughter. + +And she would let Mirak, as she elected to call her brother, swing her +for hours, but she obstinately refused to tumble down! + +"But, Bija," expostulated the little lad, "the princess did tumble down +in the story." + +"I am not a princess _in a story_," said Bija calmly, "I am Her Royal +Highness Princess Bakshee Bani Begum." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE NIGHT OF RECORD + + +So the summer days passed and winter set in once more. Though more +satisfied, Foster-father felt still that safety depended on King +Humayon's success or failure. + +So, whenever one of the long files of camels tied together in a string, +head-and-tail, showed on the hill road above Kandahar, he was off to the +halting-place outside the city to see what news it had collected in its +march from Hindustan; for caravans in those days were the postmen. + +And sometimes he heard one thing, and sometimes another, but as often as +not he returned as he went, without any remedy but patience. + +"Anyhow the child grows in stature and strength," Head-nurse would say, +"and our present lodging is better than our last!" + +Which was true; for the old house of three stories which they now +inhabited was full of little rooms leading one out of the other like a +rabbit-warren. And if there was no furniture in them, so much the better +for the children's games of "I espy" and "Touch who Touch can." + +For Bija and Mirak played such games with infinite zest. As Head-nurse +had foretold, the coming of his little sister had been an immense gain +to the Heir-to-Empire; not only in manners, but also in his outlook upon +life. For Princess Bakshee Bani Begum was a very determined small +person, who did not in the least see why the elder sister of a boy +should give way to him in all things, simply because he was +Heir-to-Empire. + +"I won't have it, Mirak," she would say with a stamp of her little foot; +"you shall not break my doll's head just because you want to." + +So Prince Akbar, who was full of sound common sense, began to think she +had reason on her side; and this was of great advantage to him, for with +Head-nurse, and Foster-mother and the others, he stood a great chance of +being spoiled. + +And after a time he became quite devoted to the prim little maid, who, +for all her primness in general, could be as wild as a hawk on occasion. + +And out of that arose an incident which, unfortunately, turned Princess +Sultanum against the little lad and so endangered his safety. It came +about in this way. Prince Askurry's son Yakoob was, as has been said, +three years older than Akbar, a lanky, rather weedy lad-ling of nearly +six. Now Prince Askurry was himself a noted wrestler, and was determined +his son should be one also. So he had the boy carefully taught, and set +a good deal of store by the quickness of the little fellow in learning +the grips, and how to trip up an adversary. On high days and holidays, +indeed, Prince Askurry and his wife used often to amuse themselves by +seeing the discomfiture of other less experienced children who were set +up to compete with the young wrestler. Baby Akbar had been one of these, +and being so much younger, he had always gone down before Yakoob's +skill; but he had always taken his overthrow in good part, though +Head-nurse had felt as if she could not keep her fingers off the victor. +It was not fair, she would say afterwards, to match a baby of two with a +child of six, and then she would try to hug the vanquished +Heir-to-Empire and cover him with kisses; but Akbar, always independent, +resented this. "Akbar tumble _him_ down some day," he would say +philosophically; and indeed there seemed every chance of it, for, mere +baby as he was, there was more promise of future strength in his little +finger than in Yakoob's whole body. + +Now, as winter came on, the children were driven indoors for their play, +and Old Faithful at their earnest request, rigged up a swing in a large +empty room in the palace, and here Princess Bija would be swung like the +Seventy Maidens, until Prince Akbar wearied of swinging her; and knowing +that nothing would induce his elder sister to tumble down like the +princesses in the story, would say quite plaintively: + +"Please, Bija, get down; I'm tired of being Rasalu," when the little +maid would descend gracefully and they would play at something else. + +But one day, just after the New Year, Prince Yakoob came to spend the +day with his cousins, and the children fell to acting the adventures of +Rajah Rasalu; Yakoob, as the guest, playing the hero's part. + +They got through several of them quite successfully, Princess Bija +making a spirited carpenter's lad and killing his dragon with great +vigour, while the Heir-to-Empire, disguising his deep baby voice in a +high squeak, doubled the parts of the seventy-nine maidens and the +cricket. So all went merry as a marriage bell until Rasalu had to order +the giggling crew out of the swing. + +Then, of course, Bija refused; whereupon Yakoob, a spoiled boy, cast +aside the tinsel-covered wooden sword, and whipped out from his belt a +toy dagger his father had given him that morning. It was not very sharp, +but very little cuts a taut rope, and one furious slash severed some of +the strands, the weight of the two children did the rest, and there they +were both on the marble floor! + +And unfortunately the "pearl of pearls," Rajah Rasalu's bride, did _not_ +fall on top. She fell underneath the Heir-to-Empire, and the +Heir-to-Empire was heavy! So there was her poor little lip all cut and +her pretty little nose all bleeding. Then _two_ Head-nurses rushed in, +and _two_ Foster-mothers, and ever so many pairs of nursery attendants, +each taking the part of their respective nurslings, and there was a +terrible to-do, for, of course, one Head-nurse said it was the fault of +the other Head-nurse, and so on. In fact peace did not return until the +party separated and the offender, Prince Yakoob, was being joggetted +back to his mother by his excited attendants, while Princess Bija was +having her swollen nose soothed by cold water. She did not cry much, but +she was terribly indignant with every one, including her brother. + +He couldn't have prevented his cousin from cutting the rope, of course, +but he might have made his cousin's nose bleed also! If she hadn't been +otherwise occupied she could have done it herself; she was quite sure +she could; or at any rate have done something quite as disagreeable! + +She looked very fierce as she spoke, while Akbar listened with grieved +attention. In fact, what Bija would have done, had Head-nurse not had +her in her arms cossetting her, became quite a subject of conversation +between the two children, Bija sitting demurely threading beads and +inventing new methods of just punishment, and the Heir-to-Empire lolling +on the floor pretending to sharpen his tinfoil sword, and interposing +objections such as, "But you couldn't do _that_, Bija, you're not +_strong_ enough," or "_That_ wouldn't be fair, Bija, for he only hurt +you a little, you know." For Akbar was born with a sense of fair-play +and justice which never forsook him, because he always gave _it_ fair +play. + +So the idea of somehow getting the better of Yakoob became a fixed one +in the little lad's mind until an opportunity for action came to him. + +It was about a month afterwards, on the "Festival of Record"; that is to +say, the day when good Mohammedans pray for guidance during the coming +year, and believe that God's Angel, accompanied by the spirits of their +dead ancestors, appears on earth to judge the record of the past year, +and write on the forehead of each man and woman and child what reward or +punishment is deserved in the next. In the evening, thousands of little +lamps are lit, so that there shall be no darkness anywhere, but all +things shall be made manifest, and when the little platters of sweets +and food are set out lest any of the spirits, who come to plead for +their descendants, should feel hungry, it is a very solemn affair; but +the day is generally spent in amusement. + +So Princess Sultanum arranged an entertainment, and, as usual, there was +to be a bout of wrestling between her son and some little companions, +amongst them the Heir-to-Empire. Head-nurse was furious, of course. The +show was invented, she declared, to disgrace the Mighty-in-Pomp, the +Pole-star of the Universe, etc., etc. + +Akbar himself took it very complacently and allowed himself to be +undressed and oiled all over, so as to make a grip very hard; for these +are the Indian customs. And a very sturdy specimen he looked as he stood +up and crossed his arms and then slapped himself with resounding slaps +before crossing them again; also after Indian fashion, for so much he +had learned of wrestling. + +Then the signal was given, and Yakoob, as was his wont, began, in +imitation of grown-up wrestlers, to steal an advance on his adversary. + +But Akbar would none of that. Whether, watching real wrestling, he had +noticed the method of attack he employed, or whether Roy had taught him, +or whether he got it out of his own head, does not matter; but the +little fellow rushed forward furiously and charging like a butting ram, +caught his cousin full in the stomach, then making a snatch at his ankle +tripped him up. So there in a second was Yakoob on his back, and Akbar, +breathless but triumphant, on top of him. + +"Now _you've_ tumbled down," remarked the Heir-to-Empire suavely, as, +astride his cousin's prostrate body, he paused for breath ere getting +up. + +Of course, some people said it wasn't fair; but others admitted that +though not the _polite_ style of wrestling, such a method was strictly +within the rules. All, however, admired the big, bold, strong little +Heir-to-Empire; all but his aunt and uncle; and the former bid +Head-nurse take away her young savage at once, while the latter's crafty +face, uneasy before, settled into a scowl. + +But Head-nurse could hardly contain her joy, even when Foster-father +shook his wise old head and said he would not have had it happen for all +the wealth of the world, for of late, if he were not much mistaken, +things had been shaping ill for his young master, and that very morning +a secret messenger had come in from Kabul. What it might portend who +could say; but it was bad fortune the child should lose favour at Court +to such slight purpose. + +"Slight, indeed!" sniffed Head-nurse. "Is it not something to have shown +that woman that her brat cannot stand up before true Kingship?" + +"I would it were so, woman," replied Foster-father, "but a child under +three with but two old men and two boys for protection cannot show much +fight." + +Head-nurse tossed her head. "So we women are not to count--" she began; +but Baby Akbar had been listening seriously and now put in with his deep +childish voice, and a wise little shake of the head: + +"And there's Tumbu and Down, too; they can bite and scratch beautifully +for me when they like." + +Whereupon Foster-mother caught him up, and wept, and swore that Heaven +must and would protect such a heart's darling. + +Perhaps it was this conversation which put the idea of getting help into +the children's heads, but after a time it was evident they had some plan +between them, for after watching the women light hundreds of little +lamps, and set out a quantity of tiny platters full of sweets, they +stole off by themselves to an empty room which was almost dark and began +to whisper. + +"I think it had better be grand-dad," said the Heir-to-Empire gravely, +"'cos my father isn't dead yet, and they must be deaders, you know, if +they are _really_ to help." + +"And we'll take the little summer room at the very top of the house, +Mirak, so's we'll be able to stop him on his way down, 'case any one +else has got a platter for him," said Bija the practical. "Now, Mirak, +I'll fetch the sweets if you'll get some lamps. They won't be missed, +you know, if we take them betwixt and between." + +After that there was much secret hurrying up and down stairs and secret +gurglings of delight as the preparations advanced. + +"Oh, Mirak! Won't it be lovely? He's sure to come in when he sees it!" +said the little girl, clasping her hands. "And Old Faithful was saying +that Grand-dad Babar was as good as twenty other men in a fight, so +_then_ you'll be quite safe." + +But Mirak's face was solemn. "If Grand-dad doesn't know it's for him he +won't come in, and he won't eat the sweets either. It's greedy to eat +sweets as doesn't belong to you, and _he_ wasn't greedy. Old Faithful +says he wasn't. He was a real King." + +"Don't you think he might be greedy just to help you?" suggested Bija +mournfully; but after thinking a little she clapped her hands. "I have +it, Mirak! If his name was on it that would do! I think I could write +'Ba-ba.' It's only the two first letters, you see, and I know _them_; +and you could prick yourself for some blood to write with, and I could +use my little finger as a pen. It's very, very tiddly wee." + +It was, indeed! and Mirak sat large-eyed in admiration of his sister's +ingenuity, while she, mistress of the situation, did this and that until +even she was satisfied. And really the little arched and domed cupola +set in Eastern fashion on the roof, looked quite pretty with the little +glittering lights in a square on the white marble floor, and the platter +of sweets placed in the middle of the square, whereon in smeared red +letters showed this: + +[Illustration: BA BA] + +"And now, Mirak!" chattered Bija, "we'll go down and go to bed like good +boys and girls, and then when the others are saying their prayers and +going to sleep we can come up again and sleep here." + +"Won't it be very cold, Bija?" asked Mirak, whose little nose was half +frost-bitten already, for a cold wind was blowing off the snow hills. + +"We will bring quilts," said the little lady with a superior air. + +So, about an hour afterwards, after the children had been put to bed and +their elders had begun the serious work of watching and waiting and +dozing through the night, two little figures, well wrapped up in quilted +cotton gowns and dragging quilted cotton blankets behind them, stole up +the stairs to the roof of the house. + +"I'm going to ask God to let him come," said Baby Akbar solemnly. So +they both touched the cold marble floor with their warm little foreheads +and said: + +"Please Great God! Let our grand-dad Babar come and take care of us, and +be kind to us, and not let the Angel write nasty things on our foreheads +for this next year!" + +Then they cuddled themselves closely together in the blankets and were +soon fast asleep. + +So fast asleep that even when, after the short hullaballoo which +followed on the discovery that they were not in their beds, they were +traced to the roof, they did not thoroughly wake up, but were carried +down again without knowing much about it. + +"Shall I blow out the lights?" asked Roy, as Head-nurse prepared to +descend also. + +[Illustration: _So they both touched the cold marble floor with their +warm little foreheads._] + +Head-nurse looked round to Foster-father for his opinion. + +"No!" he said shortly, "leave them! The children have asked some one to +eat those sweets. Let be! They may want all the help they can get." + +So all the night long the little lamps twinkled and twinkled. + +But when morning came there was not a sweet left! + +"It must have been the rats," said Meroo, who, as cook, had gone up to +see what he could save. "I saw the tail of one disappearing." + +But Foster-father said swiftly: "I would it were some other helper, for +the time has come for help. Prince Askurry hath sent to say we start for +Kabul and cruel brother Kumran at noon to-day!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +A WINTER MARCH + + +It was only too true! The escort which was to see them on the road was +already occupying the garden, the horses champing their bits and +fretting because the long branches of the roses at which they snatched +held nothing but thorns. + +Prince Akbar, indeed, was too much interested in watching them and +wondering if they were very hungry to take much heed of anything else, +but Princess Bakshee Bani Begum, who was a very practical little person, +at once began to pack up her favourite doll. + +"You had better choose out some toy, Mirak," said she, "or you will be +wanting to play with mine, and I won't let you." + +But Mirak was busy with the horses. + +"I sha'n't want anything but my sword," he replied valiantly. "I'm a big +boy now, and I'm going to play with real things." Then he turned to one +of the troopers with a quaint air of authority. "Your horse is too thin. +When I am King I shall see that my men give their horses enough to eat." + +Foster-father, who overheard the child, paused in the hasty arrangements +he was making to look at the little Heir-to-Empire and put up a prayer +that the fates might let him be King; but the future looked black +indeed. The road to Kabul must still be blocked with snow, even if more +did not fall by the way. A likely happening, with the bitter north wind +and the dull lowering sky. And if the young child escaped the danger of +extreme cold and extreme hardship, what might not be before him in Kabul +itself? + +Better, it might have been, for those in charge of him, to have risked +all, taken refuge with the old mountain chief, and died like brave men. +There was but one comfort in the whole affair. Prince Askurry must know +that Humayon or his friends were close at hand, or he would not be in +such a desperate hurry to send away the Heir-to-Empire. + +And this, indeed, was the truth. The fear of a rescue was so real and +immediate that Prince Askurry had had to make his decision in a minute. +So there was scarcely any time for preparation, and by noon the party +had started for the three hundred and odd miles of mountainous country +that lay between them and Kabul. Only the children's faces were +cheerful; even Roy's showed grave and anxious. + +They rode fast and far till dusk fell, when they had covered full twenty +miles. For the last few, both the women, who were mounted behind +troopers, had almost been dropping with fatigue, but the captain of the +escort was under orders to go as far as possible that night, so he +pushed on to reach a place called Robat. Here they were all +unceremoniously bundled into one large room, and by the steady tramp +through the night of a sentry outside, Foster-father judged they were +complete prisoners. Luckily they were given plenty of fuel to replenish +the fire that roared in the wide chimney, so the elders squatted round +it and dozed, holding the children in their laps. They slept as soundly +as if they had been in their beds, and so did Tumbu and Down, who had +both insisted on being of the party; the latter having quite calmly +taken her place on Horse-chestnut's broad wavy back on the wide cushion +of felt which Foster-father used as a saddle-cloth. She had left her +kitten behind her as it was now quite a big tom-cat, and able to take +care of itself. + +In a way, both Tumbu and Down had already been of service to their young +master, for the troopers of the Escort had been amused by the golliwog's +gambols, and had admired Down's dignity, so they were more inclined to +treat the whole party in kindly fashion. Indeed, next morning, the +Captain of the Escort, whose anxiety about a rescue had, perhaps, been +lessened by the uneventful night, was much less strict in his orders, +and took Prince Akbar on his own saddle and let him hold the reins. + +"He is a brave, bold lad," he said to Foster-father; "were he to live, +he would make a good King." Then he frowned, his mouth hardened and +Foster-father, watching him, augured ill for the safety of the +Heir-to-Empire. For the time, however, all went well, though +Foster-father remarked that they kept off the direct track as much as +possible; no doubt to avoid pursuit. And at Ghuznee, where they halted +the second night, the Captain of the Escort sent nearly all his men into +the city by one gate, taking with them, despite their protestations, Roy +and Meroo and Old Faithful, while he himself, with but one or two +troopers, Foster-father, Foster-mother, Head-nurse and the two children, +entered by another and found lodging in the caravanserai as common +travellers. Evidently, Foster-father surmised, it was thought best for +some reason or another to conceal the fact that the Heir-to-Empire was +being carried off to Kabul; and something happened that evening to make +him certain that this was the case. It was dark ere they arrived, so the +other travellers in the _serai_ took little heed of the small party, +especially as there were women and children in it, and it is not polite +in Eastern countries to take any notice of them. But while Head-nurse +and Foster-mother were busy settling down the children's quilts in the +little dark archway room, which was all the accommodation available, and +Foster-father had gone to purchase them some milk for their supper, the +little Prince and Princess, greatly excited at the novelty of their +surroundings, wandered out into the dark square enclosure, where fires +burned here and there in the open, lit by travellers who were cooking +their evening meal. They stood by these watching what was going on with +quick interest, answering questions that were put to them with frank +smiles and laughter. Being dressed in heavy sheepskin outer coats to +keep out the cold, no one guessed that they were other than they seemed, +poor travellers' children, until at the end of a long row of picketed +horses at the further end of the courtyard, Akbar saw Horse-chestnut, +Foster-father's pony. Now Foster-father had only had time to tie the +poor beast head and heel, so there the honest creature stood, looking +very dejected, with emptiness before it, while the troopers' horses +beside him were enjoying great bundles of green grass. The little fellow +flushed up in a moment; he called loudly to a man who stood near: + +"Ho! slave there! bring my pony grass--dost hear? and be quick!" + +The man laughed. "Alah!" he said; "whose son be you to give orders that +fashion?" + +"Whose son?" echoed the child passionately. "I am----" + +But Bija clung to his arm. "H'st, Mirak!" she whispered. "Remember what +Head-nurse said that we were not to tell----" + +Akbar stood irresolute; he was wise beyond his years. "But +Horse-chestnut must not be hungry. I won't have it!--he shall have +grass," he said angrily; then, without another word he walked up to the +next horse, took a great armful of the grass that lay in front of it and +scattered it before his favourite. + +"So there! slave!" he cried defiantly with a stamp of his foot. + +The man looked at him curiously, said nothing, but went over to some +others and began to whisper. + +A minute afterwards, Foster-father returning, found the children the +centre of a little crowd eager in enquiry whence they came, whither they +were going, and, ere he could get them safely to their quarters, the +attention of the Captain of the Escort had been arrested, he came out +frowning and fuming. + +"We march again in an hour," he said angrily to Foster-father. "On thy +head be it if thou can'st not keep thy young fighting cock in +order--'twill be all over the town by midnight!" + +Foster-father did not often let his temper get the better of his +prudence, but he could not resist saying mildly: "Kingship is like the +musk-bag, friend, that was broken at the royal child's birth. It +diffuses its perfume over the habitable world, and none can mistake it." + +The Captain of the Escort shrugged his shoulders. "Then it shall smell +in the wilderness, friend; for I run no risks of rescue this side the +passes. So bid the women give the young crowing cockerel his supper and +prepare to start again. There will be a moon in another hour and we can +push on. Meanwhile I go to warn the other folk where to rejoin us." + +It was a bitter cold night. The wind blew keenly from the snow before +them, and by the time they reached a miserable village, high up on the +slopes of the pass, every one save the two children was chilled to the +bone; but they, well happed in all the coverings the fugitives could +compass, were warm; Akbar, in Foster-father's arms, with Down, the cat, +cuddled up beside him, and acting as a hot bottle! Once more there was +plenty of fuel in the rude hut where they found shelter, and stiffened +limbs and half-frosted fingers soon began to thaw. Tumbu, who had kept +himself supple by, as usual, bounding about, was the only one of the +party who did not doze off at once, now comparative comfort was reached. + +But he was curiously restless. Over and over again he rose, went to the +door and seemed to listen. Then he began to whine a little, then to +scratch at the door as if he wanted to get out. Finally, finding no one +paid any attention, he let loose one short, sharp bark, which awakened +Head-nurse, who with an impatient look to see if her children had been +disturbed, and an angry whisper, "Go, then! thou mean-born beast," rose +softly, set open the door for a second, then closed it again, shivering +with the chill blast that swept in. But Tumbu was out like a flash and +disappeared in the darkness. + +It must have been an hour afterward that every one's slumber was +disturbed by the most insistent barking that ever was heard. Even Akbar, +usually the soundest of sleepers, sat up and rubbed his eyes. + +"The evil-dispositioned hound!" said Head-nurse in drowsy anger. "I +deemed he had left us forever, and good riddance, too." + +But little Prince Akbar, half awake, protested in defence of his dear +dog. + +"Tumbu only barks when he wants something, nurse; go and see what it +is." + +"A likely story!" cried Head-nurse. + +"Well," interposed Foster-father philosophically, "some one must go if +any one is to sleep." + +Whereat he went to the door; but Tumbu on the doorstep refused to come +in; he barked, bounced off, and returned the next minute to whine and +bark again. + +"He only wants something; go and see what it is," came Mirak's +deep-toned voice. "I know he wants something." + +"Lo! man alive!" grumbled Head-nurse; "shut the door whichever way it +is. I perish with cold!" + +Foster-father was a wise man, so to avoid further discussion he stepped +out and shut the door behind him. Thus for a minute or two there was +peace. Then Foster-father's voice rose urgently from outside. + +"Open! I say open! Quick!" + +Foster-mother flew to obey, and her husband staggered in, bearing some +one in his arms. "God send the boy be not dead," he said as he laid down +his burden. + +It was Roy the Rajput! + +"I found him quite close, frozen by the cold," he continued, as they set +to work before the fire to rub the poor, stiff limbs and force a few +drops of hot milk through the blue lips. + +It was some time before a faint sigh, a quiver of the eyelids told that +Roy was once more coming back to the world; but after that it was not +long before he could sit up and tell them what had happened. + +He had managed to evade the eyes of the troopers, and had arrived at the +_serai_ just after the startled party had left it; had followed on their +traces until he had lost his way. In despair he had been stumbling along +aimlessly when Tumbu had suddenly appeared. Following his lead, he had +struggled on, gradually benumbed by cold, until at last his feet had +failed him, and he remembered no more. + +"Tumbu wanted Roy!" said little Prince Akbar gravely. "I told you he +wanted something." + +And Tumbu, hearing his name, roused his furry head from his furry paws +and looked at his young master with his sharp, beady, black eyes, as who +should say: + +"Of course I did, because I knew you wanted him." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +SNOW AND ICE + + +The Captain of the Escort was not over pleased to find Roy when he came +in the next morning, and said curtly that the boy, having found his way +on foot, must make it on foot, and that none should wait for him. To +this the Rajput lad made no demur. His long limbs on that hilly country +were more than an equal even for Horse-chestnut's climbing powers, and +the cold was so intense that it was a relief not to sit still on +horseback. So he raced on ahead with Tumbu or held by Horse-chestnut's +stirrup, and, as he ran, told stories to amuse the Heir-to-Empire; for +neither of the nurses was in a fit state to do more than sit tight, tied +by leathern belts to the troopers behind whom they rode. + +About sunset time they arrived at a lonely shed at the beginning of the +highest bit of the main road, which they were now obliged to take, as +there was no other way over the mountains ahead of them. Here, at the +end--as poor Head-nurse wailed--of the habitable world, the Captain of +the Escort had expected to find the remainder of his men; but they were +not there, and as his provisions were running short, he could not go on +till they did arrive. So, in an ill humor, he ordered a halt, and the +whole outwearied party hastily cooked themselves a meagre supper and +lay down in hot haste for rest at last. And rest they had, for that +night the snow, which had been threatening, began to fall, and by +daylight a good nine inches lay on the ground. The children, who had +never seen such thick snow before, were delighted; but Foster-father +looked fearfully at the passes before them, while the Captain of the +Escort fumed and fretted at the non-arrival of his men. Unless they came +soon, he said, if more snow fell, the pass immediately in front of them +might be closed for days. Not that there seemed much likelihood of +further storm, for the sky was blue as blue, the air, though keen, +pleasant. About noon, there being still no sign of the missing men with +provisions, the captain became impatient, and told Foster-father curtly +that he and his three troopers would ride back some fifteen miles to a +village, where perchance the others were waiting, and that meanwhile the +rest of them could wait till he returned; there were provisions enough +for a day or two. Foster-father protested against being left alone in +the snow with but a boy, two helpless women and two young children; but +the Captain only laughed and rode off, taking with him Horse-chestnut, +as a precaution, doubtless, against any attempt to escape with the +Heir-to-Empire. + +There was nothing to be done, Foster-father felt, save to wait with what +patience he could; but his heart sank as, while Head-nurse and +Foster-mother slept, outwearied by the past two days' fatigue, and the +children under Roy's care played snowballs, he sat and watched the sky. +At first there was only a cloud or two in the west; then a sudden wind +sprang up and drove the fine, powdery snow in drifts. But still the sun +shone, though it seemed to grow a little dimmer, a little paler; +finally, about two hours after the others had left, Foster-father felt +uncertain whether it was all drift that seemed to fill the air with a +fine white film, or whether fresh snow was falling. + +An hour later there was no doubt about it. Great flakes were circling +down silently, the sun had vanished, all things had become grey. +Head-nurse heaped up the fire, set a quilt before it for the children to +play upon, and then opened out the wallets to see what she could find +for supper. There was not much left, and she was about to knead up all +the flour to bake hearth cakes when Foster-father crossed over to her +and whispered: + +"Half will do, sister; otherwise there may be none for to-morrow." + +"None?" she echoed. "But they will be back----" + +Foster-father pointed to the snow that, driven now by a rising wind, had +drifted underneath the door. "Not through that, sister! We may have to +stay here till the weather moderates, for none save friends will risk +their lives, and these men love us not!" + +But even as he spoke there was a bustling at the door, Tumbu flew +forward, barking loudly, and in stumbled---- + +Old Faithful and Meroo the cook-boy! + +They were heavily burdened, half-blinded by the snow, and they had a +disquieting tale to tell. About twelve miles back, just as the snow +began to fall, their party, which had been delayed on the main road by a +flooded river, had come upon the Captain of the Escort and his three +troopers. Then had ensued a hurried consultation, in which several of +the men had flatly refused to go on in face of the coming storm. It was, +they said, sheer madness. Better return to the nearest township and +await better weather. As for the prisoners, they had food enough to keep +life in them for a day or two, and after that they must take their +chance. Whereupon Old Faithful and Meroo had offered to go on, carrying +some of the provisions they had with them, and trusting to be able to +follow the tracks left by the horses in the snow. This had been agreed +upon, and--here they were! + +"For," as Old Faithful went on, "see you, I am not afraid of snow, +having been with Babar the brave (on whom be peace) when he marched from +Herat to Kabul and was nigh lost on the Great Zirrin pass." + +Little Akbar, who was playing at cat's cradle with his sister, looked up +eagerly. "Was Grand-dad ever in the snow? 'Cos if he was, he's quite +sure to help us, for he ate all our sweeties, didn't he, Bija?" + +The little girl shook her head and put her finger to her lip, in warning +to him not to give away their secret; but Head-nurse was sharp. + +"Ohe," said she, "so that was it! Listen, Foster-father! these babes set +the platter for Firdoos Gita Makani--on whom be peace! Is not that good +omen for us all?" + +"Mayhap!" said Foster-father, clearing his throat cautiously, "and my +heart is comforted also by the presence of Faithful, who was with the +great king in his battle with snow and ice." + +The Heir-to-Empire dropped his cat's cradle and went over to the old +trooper and stood before him with grave, questioning eyes. + +"Is it so, slave? Were you with Grand-dad in the snow?" + +"Most-Honourable! I was," replied the old man boastfully, "and I +remember as if 'twas yesterday----" + +"Tell us the tale, trooper," interrupted Head-nurse. "'Twill hearten us +all up ere we sleep, since there is naught else to be done." + +"That will I, mother," replied Old Faithful with alacrity, "and in the +very words of my revered master as written in that book of books, his +Memoirs, which doubtless the most Learned-of-the-Universe will read +some day." + +Mirak, who was back at his cat's cradle, looked up with grave +superiority. + +"Nay, slave! They shall read it to Akbar. He will be King." + +"Hark to him!" ejaculated Foster-mother, delighted. "His words are all +fortunate." + +"We have need of more fortune by works, not words, woman," said +Foster-father sternly. "So proceed, friend Faithful; the recitation of +brave deeds can never come amiss." + +Old Faithful settled himself by the fire and began. "First you must know +that Firdoos Gita Makani, or Babar the brave, had to get back to Kabul, +because wicked men were waiting to be punished. Now, it was winter time, +and none dreamed of travelling over the passes at that season. But +Firdoos Gita Makani was not one to hold back when a thing had to be +done. So we started, and this is what happened, in his own words: + +"From the time we left Herat it snowed incessantly; the farther we +advanced the deeper it became. After three days it reached above the +stirrups. In places the horses' feet did not reach the ground; yet the +snow continued to fall. One Bishai was our guide. I do not know whether +it was from old age, or from his heart failing him, but having once lost +the road, he never could find it again; so, as it was not to be found +with all our exertions, we were brought to a complete stand. Seeing no +other remedy, we returned back to a place where there was abundance of +firewood, and despatched sixty or seventy chosen men to retrace our +footsteps and find on lower ground any people who might be wintering +there, and bring back another guide. We halted thus for three or four +days awaiting the return of our messengers; but when they did appear it +was without any one to show the way. Placing my reliance on God alone, +therefore, I went on. For about a week we continued beating down the +snow so as to form a road, only advancing two or three miles a day. +Accompanied by ten or fifteen of my personal followers, I worked myself +with the others. Every step we took forward we sank up to the middle, +but still we went on, trampling till we got firm foothold. And as the +first person wearied of the exertion, he stood back and another took his +place. So, after a time, we managed to lead on a riderless horse. It +generally sank to the stirrups, and after floundering on a dozen paces +was worn out. But the second did better. Thus in this way the twenty or +so of us managed to prepare a sort of road for the rest, who with +hanging heads (though many of them had seemed our best men) advanced +along it without even dismounting! But this was no time for reproof or +authority. Every man of spirit hastens to such work of himself, and the +rest do not count. In this way after three or four days we reached a +cave at the foot of the Zirrin Pass. That day the wind and storm were +dreadful; the snow fell in quantities; we all expected to meet death +together. The snow was so deep, the path so narrow, the days were at +shortest. The first of the troops reached the cave while it was yet +daylight; but some men had to wait for morning on horseback. The cave +seemed to be too small for all, so I would not go in. I felt that for me +to be warm and comfortable while my men were in snow and drift; for me +to sleep at my ease while my followers were in trouble and distress, +would be unfair. I felt that whatever their sufferings might be, I ought +to share them. So I took a hoe and dug down into the snow as deep as my +breast; this gave me some shelter from the wind, and I sat down in the +hole. By bedtime prayers the snow had fallen so fast that four inches of +it had settled on my head----'" + +Here Old Faithful paused and shook his head gravely. "His Majesty," he +went on, "writes in the margin, 'That night I caught a cold in my ear.' +It is only wonder he did not catch his death." + +"But what happened next?" asked Akbar impatiently. "Did poor Grand-dad +sit in the snow all night?" + +"No, Most-Honourable. He goes on to say, 'The cave was properly explored +and found to be large enough to hold us all. So I ordered all to go in, +and thus we escaped from the terrible cold, snow, and drift, into a +wonderfully warm, safe, comfortable place. And next morning the snow and +tempest ceased and we moved on, trampling down the snow as before; but +ere we quite got through the pass, night fell. Though the wind had +fallen, the cold was dreadful, and several lost fingers, toes, even +hands and feet from frostbite, as we waited for dawn in the open. As +early as we could we moved down the glen, descending, without road, over +difficult and precipitous places, the extreme depth of the snow enabling +us to pass over countless dangers. Thus our enemy became our friend. + +"'It was evening prayer time ere we got from the mouth of the valley, +bedtime prayers when we reached the village of Auleng. The people +carried us to their warm houses, brought out fat sheep for us, a +superfluity of hay and grain for our horses, with abundance of wood to +kindle our fires. To pass from the cold and snow into such a village +with its warm houses, to find plenty of good food as we did after days +of hunger is an enjoyment that can only be understood by those who have +suffered similar hardship, have endured such heavy distress.'" + +Old Faithful paused and sighed. "That is so like Firdoos Gita Makani," +he said. "When danger was over he would sit down and write beautiful +things about it; but when it was there he never seemed to think of +anything but trampling it down." + +"That is like all Kings," said Roy proudly, "and brave men are always +Kings in danger." + +But Foster-father was looking at the fire. "Abundance of fuel," he +murmured, "that is what we have not." + +"We shall not need it here, friend," replied the old trooper. "Meroo, +remove that log; 'tis too hot as it is, and if the snow continues to +drift as it was doing a while agone--" he moved to the door, which +opened inward and set it wide. A great white wall reaching almost to the +eaves showed filling up the doorway! "It is as I thought," he said; "we +are prisoned here till the storm passes. Thank God we have provision +enough for some days." + +"And thanks to others also," put in Foster-father heartily; "but for +thee and Meroo, old friend----" + +"As Firdoos Gita Makani used to say," remarked the old man with an air +of great virtue, "'Gratitude comes when danger has gone,' so she must +wait a bit yet." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +OVER THE PASS + + +Gratitude had longer to wait than even Foster-father, who always took a +gloomy view of things, had thought for, since the next morning found the +shed almost hidden beneath a snowdrift. Still, as Old Faithful remarked, +it was not altogether to be regretted since the covering kept out the +cold and allowed them to save their small store of firewood for cooking. +The lack of light was, however, terrible until Old Faithful, whose +experience with Babar the brave made him full of expedients, hit on the +plan of setting Tumbu to work to dig out a hole through the drift, for +they had nothing with them to use as a spade. What he did was to set the +door wide, cut a narrow tunnel with his sword as far as he could reach +in the banked-up snow, and thrust a bit of food in its farther end. Then +Roy brought Tumbu and said: + +"Fetch it out, good dog! fetch it out!" while Mirak and Bija looked on +delightedly, calling, "Good dog! Dig it out! dig it out!" Tumbu, the +most playful of animals, soon entered into the fun, and set to work +shovelling out the snow till he found the food. Then another bit was +thrust in, always in an upward direction. + +"'Tis slow," said Old Faithful, "but not so slow as trampling down a +road!" + +Not half so slow, for after a time Tumbu seemed to understand what they +would be at, and needed no more bits of food to make him dig, but went +on solidly, every now and again giving a yap just to make himself +believe he really _was_ digging something out. In fact, he got on so +fast that Roy, who, as the slimmest of the party, had to keep the tunnel +clear of the dug-out snow, had almost more to do than he could manage. +It was frightfully exciting, and Mirak and Bija were dancing about, +unable to keep still, when a sudden shaft of light that burst into the +dark shed, and a furiously joyful barking that came down the funnel as +if it had been a speaking trumpet, announced Tumbu's arrival in free +air. + +"Now, we shall do," said Old Faithful with much importance. "Lo! how one +clever idea begets another. But for Firdoos Gita Makani trampling a road +I should never have thought of a tunnel!" + +Roy, however, was already hard at work improving on the idea by widening +the way with Old Faithful's sword, being only let from doing more by +Head-nurse's exclamation that the melting snow would flood the shed. + +"Let be, boy!" said Foster-father; "the hot air from within, rising +through the tunnel, will melt the sides by degrees. To-morrow will see +it large enough for you, at any rate, to pass through." + +And so it proved. Not next day, but the day after, not only Roy, but +Mirak and Bija, had managed to climb up to the outer world by the +notches which Roy cut in the snow walls. + +It was a strange, chill world which they saw. Far as the eye could +reach, nothing but snow, the air frosty and sharp, though the sun was +shining once more. Mirak was keen to snowball, but Roy would not hear of +it; the snow was melting with the faint heat of the mid-day sun, he +said, and a step might make the frost film break, and down into the +powdery drift they might go, never to come up again. So they only stood +looking about them for a few minutes and then prepared to go back. + +"Take care, my lord, take care!" cried Roy, as Mirak, who was preparing +to descend legs foremost, as he had been told to do, suddenly looked up +with a face full of mischief, let go with his hands, and pouf! +disappeared down the slippery tunnel like a pea in a pea-shooter. A +burst of laughter from below told them he had arrived safely, and +nothing would suit Bija but to do likewise, Roy being still too tight a +fit to slide quickly. In fact, the children were eager to climb up once +more and do it again, but Head-nurse said she could not hear of it; +their clothes were wet enough as it was; besides, it was most +unlady-like for a real Princess! + +The days, therefore, did not pass so uncomfortably, though pressing +anxiety sat on Foster-father's honest face, and every time Roy returned +from a climb up to outer air he would ask him if he had seen anything. + +"Nothing," Roy would reply, "and the snow wastes but little, we are so +high up." + +At last one night, after the children were asleep, Foster-father +summoned a council of war. It would not be wise, he said, to remain +where they were, without making any effort at escape, until their +provisions were exhausted. Then they would be helpless. Now they still +had enough for two or three days, and it behooved them to make a +push--but whither? + +"Not back on our steps," advised Old Faithful. "Firdoos Gita Makani +always said: 'No retreat till there is no advance.' Besides, see you, if +we go down, the snow will be melting and give us no foothold. But at +night the frost will hold on the pass. And it is but little farther to +the next shelter; for, see you, I have come twice this way from +Kandahar; but never the other way back. So my memory of land-marks--if +there be any--would be nothing on the downward journey. But upward it +might come to life. Again, upward there is less chance of missing the +way, as all the valleys converge to the Pass, whereas downward they +spread out in different directions." + +In fact, there were so many points in favour of advance that the +decision was made for it, and the next night settled on for the start. +There were not many preparations to make except for the women, who had +to bake what flour they had into hearth cakes. They had a little wheat +and pulse, too, and this they roasted and tied up in the corners of +their veils. Everything that was heavy had to be left behind, for they +knew that even unburdened they might have difficulty in getting the +frost film on the snow to bear their weight. It was a bright, starlight +night when, the snow tunnel having been enlarged by Roy, regardless of +flooding the shed, the whole party crept out and stood on the wide, +snowy expanse. Tumbu was first, and with joyful yaps began to career +about in circles curved like a comma, biting and snapping at the snow. +Down came last, and _meaowed_ piteously, lifting up first one cold foot, +then another, and shaking it in disgust. Finally an idea seemed to come +into her head; she made a bound toward Tumbu, and the next moment was on +his back, clawing onto his fluffy black fur; whereat everybody laughed. +So, with many a prayer for guidance, the little party set off, Old +Faithful leading the way. At first they managed pretty well, though the +men and women, being heavy, sank over the ankles at each step. But both +Bija and Mirak, and even Roy, being light, found the surface hard enough +to bear them; so they ran on ahead and chattered and laughed, the whole +business being to them a huge joke. Thus an hour passed cheerfully +enough; then Bija began to get tired, and Foster-father took her in his +arms. The result sent his heart into his mouth with sudden fear, sudden +certainty that no help could come that way. Even her slight additional +weight sent him almost waist deep into the snow. He could scarcely move! +And ere long the Heir-to-Empire would doubtless weary also; then what +was to be done? For every hour after midnight would bring the thawing +sun nearer and nearer; they might have to remain on the Pass till night +brought frost again, and in that case what would become of the children? + +Then suddenly his eye caught Tumbu, who was marching along sullenly, +Down nestling, fast clawed in his broad, furry back. Could the dog carry +a child? A creature with four feet had greater purchase of foothold than +one with two. + +"Roy," he said, "turn the cat off and put the Heir-to-Empire on the +dog's back; he must be tired also." + +Mirak, nothing loath, climbed quickly to his mount; but ere he had +settled himself on its back Tumbu had begun to sink slowly. The little +lad's weight was too much for even four feet; there was a struggle, over +went the little Prince, and both he and Tumbu had to be picked up and +set on their legs again on a fresh, unbroken place. + +Foster-father looked in despair at Old Faithful, and for a minute no +one said anything. Then the old man's face lit up. "Lo! I had forgotten +it utterly, but the time and place bring memory back. Firdoos Gita +Makani--who knew all things under the sun--had a favourite horse, that +strained itself falling into a drift. They were for leaving it to die, +but that did not suit Firdoos Gita Makani, who was kind to all God's +creatures. So, having read of the like somewhere, he set us to make a +sort of platform with our lances and blankets underneath the poor brute, +and so we dragged him over the snow, until we reached a place where +there was water and grass." + +"We have no lances," said Foster-father, "and there is no wood." He +looked around helplessly. + +"My lord has a sword," put in Roy eagerly, "and so has Faithful. If he +were to tie them crossways to the scabbards--" He had already thrown off +his skin coat and was unwinding his long muslin waistband to tear it +into strips to use as a cord. + +"It is worth the trying, friend Foster-father," said Old Faithful, +unbuckling his sword. + +"Aye!" continued Roy, elated with the idea, "and Tumbu can drag it. He +makes no mark on the snow, so it will be smooth and slippy--and the +curved scabbards will be like runners." + +His dexterous fingers were hard at work binding the long sword blades to +place. Then a strip of woollen shawl was fastened to them as a seat, +Meroo's turban served as harness, and in less time than could have been +imagined the quaint sledge was ready for trial. + +Mirak sat on it first. "Now then, Tumbu! Good dog!" said Roy in a +flutter for fear of failure. Tumbu turned round, looked at his little +master with a broad grin of red tongue and white teeth, gave a little +grunt, and started. + +The sledge slid on over the frozen snow quite easily! + +"Now praise be to God!" cried Foster-father, overjoyed. + +"And Grand-dad!" said the little Prince, who always listened to +everything; "but I knew he would help us, didn't you, Bija?" + +"But I want to go on the thing, too," she whimpered. + +"Mayhap it might support them both," put in Head-nurse; "she is but a +featherweight, and there is plenty of room." + +Ere five minutes were over the little party, greatly heartened up by +finding this unexpected way out of their difficulties, started once +more, Roy encouraging Tumbu, who, in truth, seemed to feel his task +quite a light one, while Foster-father, in his relief and gratitude, +allowed Down, the cat, to creep once more inside his fur coat. Her +weight made him sink a little farther into the snow, but he was strong, +and felt he could have done more for the sake of the children's safety. + +On and on they went, the frost film giving firmer foothold on the +top of the pass, while the chill which always precedes dawn took away +still more from the difficulty of Tumbu's task. In fact, the curved +scabbards slipped over the hard snow as if it had been ice. + +[Illustration: _Ahead of them, a shadow showed, a shambling shadow! +Tumbu ... with a bound was off full tilt after it._] + +So they went on till a glimmer of dawn showed them that the summit had +been reached, the downward slope begun. But still, far and near, nothing +but snow was to be seen. Then suddenly, ahead of them, a shadow showed, +a shambling shadow! Tumbu stopped dead, sniffed, then with a bound was +off full tilt after it, the sledge, with the two children in it, flying +behind him! + +For an instant the others were too much astonished to speak. Then Roy, +with frantic cries to Tumbu to come back, was off after them. In vain! +As he crested a little rise he saw by the growing light a big brown +Isabelline bear shambling along contentedly, seeming to go no pace at +all, yet gaining steadily on the sledge that was giving chase. + +"I will follow as fast as I can!" panted the Rajput lad breathlessly, as +Foster-father, Meroo, and Old Faithful, hampered by their greater +weight, ran up. "It is a bear; but they cannot catch it--and Tumbu will +tire--then he always comes back. Follow you on my tracks with the +women." + +With that he was off like an arrow from a bow behind the bear, Tumbu, +the sledge, the Heir-to-Empire and the Princess Bakshee Bani Begum, who +by this time had all disappeared behind the hilly horizon. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +IN THE VALLEY + + +Roy ran and ran and ran until he was breathless; yet still he ran, until +little by little he recovered his breath again as wild animals do. Every +moment he hoped to see Tumbu either returning or standing still, panting +and waiting for the others to come up. But he saw nothing save, +stretching away as far as the eye could reach, a smooth, not over steep, +snowy slope. So far there was little fear of the sledge being overset. + +Then, after he had run a long way, he paused, for there were now two +tracks instead of one. The marks of the bear went up a little side +valley, the marks of the sledge went down the slope. What could have +happened? Had Tumbu in his haste missed the bear's trail? That was not +likely. Having come so far, had he determined to go on? That was not +likely either, unless the children had urged him forward. Knowing +Mirak's bold, adventurous spirit, this seemed possible, and Roy's heart +sank; but he started off running again, knowing that no matter what had +happened he must follow his little master, and follow fast. + +But as he ran downward and downward the frost film on the snow became +less and less firm. The sun was rising now, and even its earliest rays +seemed to melt his foothold, and he began to sink at every step. The +sledge, however, appeared from the faint marks it left to have slid on +without difficulty. No doubt, he thought, because of the children's +light weight, and because the platform between the swords and scabbards +which supported them was so large; many times larger than his own feet! +Why, even Tumbu's four broad, furry paws had sunk into the snow a +little, and would doubtless have sunk more but for the pace at which he +must have been going. + +The sledge was the thing! How clever it was of Old Faithful to remember +Firdoos Gita Makani's way of saving his horse; but after all, when one +came to think of it, the thanks were due to Babar the brave for being a +real King, kind-hearted to animals. + +And now Roy's task became dangerous as well as hard, for every moment +lessened the firmness of the ice film. And he was now running down a +shallow valley, which was completely blocked up by drift, except in the +very middle, where every now and again you got a glimpse of a roaring +torrent--kept unfrozen by its snowy covering--hollowing its way +downward; but for the most part it was invisible, the only sign of it +being a roar, a tremble beneath your feet. Thus he was, as it were, on a +snow bridge, of which the surface might at any moment give way. And that +meant certain death in the dark pools below. In one place, indeed, he +was all but lost; however, a wild leap landed him on safe ground, and +with a gasp of fear, not for himself, but for the children ahead of +him, he ran on, comforted by the sight of the sledge track going on and +on. + +After a while he had to cease running from sheer fatigue; but still he +plodded on, telling himself that even half an hour would have made a +difference in the snow. That where he found danger, the children might +have found safety; and always before him that track of the +scabbard-sledge showed him that so far, at any rate, all had gone well. + +And then, as he turned a sharp curve in the shallow, snow-covered +valley, he saw a little below him something that made him turn sick with +fear. It was the sledge, empty, deserted! A second glance, however, +showed him that it was not overset. Those who had been in it must have +left it of their own accord; and the cause of this was soon made clear. +Within a few yards the snow ended and a rocky descent began, down which +the sledge could not have gone. So either Tumbu or the children had been +wise; and they were still in front of him, but how far off who could +tell? The sun was already high, hours must have passed since he first +started in chase; but now that they were on foot there was some chance +of overtaking them before anything dreadful happened. + +In his hurry Roy almost flung himself from rock to rock down the +descent; but he had to pause to take off his fur coat, for in this +sheltered spot the sun beat shadelessly, the snow melted as he passed, +the stones ran with moisture, and in the crannies of the rocks young +green things were everywhere starting into growth. The past storm of +bitter cold had ended winter; spring had begun. And now the rushing +torrent, escaping finally from its snowy blanket, dashed over the +boulders beside him, carrying with it great blocks of melting snow. + +On and on he went, thinking the descent would never end, till at a turn +he saw below him a tiny valley, just a sort of cup in the hills, through +which the stream rushed, sparkling in the sunshine. The banks were still +brown, but they were patched with great beds of rose-pink primula, blue +gentian, and yellow dog pansies. And on a perfect carpet of these sat +three dark figures! Never in his life was Roy so overjoyed. He forgot +his fatigue, and ran on until he could plainly see Princess Bakshee Bani +Begum making cowslip balls out of the pink primulas, the Heir-to-Empire +contentedly munching a cold hearth cake, and giving bits of it to Tumbu, +who, with his head cocked on one side, had evidently heard Roy's distant +step. The next instant a furious barking showed that he was on the alert +to defend his young charges, and Roy had to call to him again and again +before he was satisfied that the newcomer was a friend. + +"Why, what a long time you've been coming," said the Heir-to-Empire +calmly. "We've had our breakfast, 'cos we couldn't wait any longer. You +can't have come as fast as you could. No more would Tumbu, only we made +him not be lazy, 'cos Head-nurse says--what is it she says, Bija?" + +The little girl looked solemn. "She says every one should do everything +as quick as ever they can. So we shouted at Tumbu and pulled his tail +just a liddly-wee bit like the bullock drivers do. And then we had the +loveliest ride, and Tumbu wasn't a bit cross; but he wouldn't go down +the rocks and growled. So we had to get out and walk. And then we came +here, and first of all we picked flowers; then I had hearth cakes and +popcorn in my veil, and so we ate our breakfast, and then you came--and +that's all, thank you!" She had just finished a lovely soft ball and she +flung it full at the Heir-to-Empire. It hit him, but he took no notice. +He was thinking of something else. + +"But where," he began, and his little lip went down, "is Head-nurse--and +Foster-father--and Foster-mother--and Old Faithful--and Meroo--and Down? +What have you done with them, slave?" + +He was half angry, half ready to cry, so Roy, though his own heart +failed him as he thought of the dangers of the road, had to soothe and +comfort him by saying, as cheerfully as he could, that they would come +before long. But would they? Now that the relief of finding the children +were safe was over, poor Roy began to see the difficulties before him. +If those others did not come, what would he, a mere lad, do? How could +he care for his little master and mistress? They had had their +breakfast, it is true--Roy forgot he had had none himself!--but what +could they have for supper? He could not even think, he felt too giddy +and tired even to sleep; so, after he had rolled his fur coat into a +soft pillow for the little Prince and Princess, who were drowsy for +their mid-day rest, and covered them over with their own, he sat with +his head between his hands, his eyes closed, wishing he were not so +stupid, wishing he could only think of something to do; for in reality +he was quite wearied out. If the others did not come! Of course they +might come at any moment; and yet the moments passed to minutes, the +minutes to hours, while the children slept in the sunshine, and Roy felt +that he was a fool. + +And then something cold touched his hand. He opened his eyes and saw +that it was Tumbu's nose; Tumbu, who had something strange in his +mouth--something like a rabbit and yet like a squirrel! + +In reality it was a fresh-killed young marmot, an animal that lives amid +the snow and ice and rocks of the very highest hills. Tumbu, having +handed over charge of the children, must have gone off on his own +hunting, found a colony of the quaint creatures, and, as usual, brought +home his bag! Roy did not in the least know what the marmot was, but he +saw it was something to eat! The relief was too much for him! Here, at +least, was supper. He flung his arms round Tumbu's neck and burst into +tears, murmuring with choking sobs that he, Roy, had been foolish, but +Tumbu was a wise, wise, good doggie. And so he was! + +After this Roy felt better, and having, as all Indian boys used to have +in those days, a flint and steel with him, began to look around for fuel +with which to light a fire and cook the supper. There were, of course, +no trees and no bushes; but right away at the farther end of the long +valley there were some patches of very dark green. They did not look +promising, but he would go and see. They proved to be a creeping sort of +evergreen plant that trailed its stiff branches right on the very +ground. He picked a bit, and on trying to light it, found to his +surprise, that it blazed up in a fierce flame. For it was juniper, and +so full of resin. + +He now had the possibility of fire, so that evening the little cup in +the hills held quite comfortable encampment. + +Roy had brought down the sledge, and using the swords and their +scabbards as supports, had made a lean-to tent against a warm rock out +of the strip of shawl. In this he had strewn juniper branches to make a +soft bed, and the children could just creep into it. Then they had the +marmot, roasted in its skin, for supper, and all the three were too +hungry to ask themselves if marmot flesh was as toothsome as rabbit or +as bitter as squirrel! And Tumbu ate the bones with an air as if he +would say, "It is not bad, but to-morrow I must catch two marmots." + +After that there was peace and quiet in the camp, Roy sitting beside the +fire and making it blaze up every now and again by putting on a fresh +juniper branch. For he knew that since the others had not arrived by +daylight, they must either all have perished on the road or else be +waiting until the cold of night once more froze the ice-film on the +snow. In this case the firelight seen from afar might be a guide. + +So the night passed. More than once Roy fell asleep, for despite his +care the smoke of the juniper branches could not quite be avoided, and +that, every one knows, is terribly sleepifying. He woke every time, +however, before the fire was quite out, and hastened to send up a flare +of flame. As he did so the last time it was answered by a _hulloo_ from +the rocks above, and shortly afterward Meroo, the scullion's, blubbering +voice could be heard as he uttered thanks to Heaven. + +"And the others?" asked Roy anxiously, as out of the darkness Meroo +appeared and cast himself at the lad's feet, bellowing joy. + +"They come, they come! They are but a short way back. I saw the fire, +and the sight of it warmed the cockles of my heart! Lo! I shall cook +once more! I shall not die hungry in the wilderness. Nay! go not," for +Roy was starting up. "True! the women are nigh dead, and Foster-father +hath his fingers frost-bitten, but--nay, put more flame to the fire, +boy! It is the fire they need!" + +He was half beside himself, but he was right. As the fresh juniper +branches blazed up Head-nurse came tottering and stumbling into its +light. Roy sprang to help her, but she pushed him aside. + +"The Heir-to-Empire?" she muttered, her lips almost refusing to form the +words. "The Heir-to-Empire, the Admired-of-the-World----" + +Roy pointed to the little tent. "There! Safe! Well! Asleep!" he cried; +and the poor woman with a sob sank as she stood, and lay prone muttering +long strings of titles. + +Before a minute had passed Foster-father and Foster-mother struggled +into the circle of light, and after a word of question and reply, sank +down also. + +Then there was a long pause, but no sign came of good Old Faithful's +tall, gaunt figure. At last Roy spoke. + +"Faithful?" he asked in a low whisper. "What of him?" + +There was no answer at first; only Foster-father covered his face with +his hands. At last he spoke gently. + +"He was faithful to death. He was going first, as ever, cheering us all +with his sayings of Firdoos Gita Makani. I saw him there one moment +turning to tell us words of wisdom--the next the snow bridge had given +way beneath his feet and he was gone. We waited on the bank of the awful +chasm for a long time, but there was no sound save the roaring of the +stream below. Firdoos Gita Makani, his master, had called him. Peace be +with them both!" + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +DEAREST-LADY + + +For two whole days the little party was too weary even to attempt a +move. They had some provisions with them, and Tumbu, as good as his +word, brought in more and more marmots; for being unaccustomed to dogs, +they were easily caught. + +The death of Old Faithful weighed upon the spirits of all, and for the +first twelve hours or so the Heir-to-Empire was inconsolable for the +loss of his beloved cat; for Foster-father had found it impossible to +carry Down farther, and she had remained behind in the snow, protesting +piteously. It was a terrible grief, and the child had almost wept +himself sick, when, to every one's surprise and delight, Mistress Down +was seen walking sedately across the flowers, her bushy tail carried +very high, not one hair of her silky white coat awry. She took no notice +of anybody, but passed to the fire, sat down beside it with stiff +dignity, curled her tail round her paws, yawned and then began to purr +gently. It was as if nothing had happened. And she certainly was not +hungry, for she turned up her dainty nose at Tumbu's marmot bones. + +"Cats," said Head-nurse, who had just awakened from a long sleep of many +hours, "are not to be counted as other beasts. Having nine lives, they +could afford to lose one; but they never do. They always fall on their +feet. It is the way of the world; the more you have the more you get. +Still, I am glad she has returned; and I wish there were a chance of +others turning up also," she added with a sigh. + +The Heir-to-Empire looked up gravely. "But Faithful can't come back, you +know. He went to help Grand-dad to help us." + +"Hark to the innocent," cried Foster-mother, half in smiles, half in +tears, "but it is true. If ever poor mortals were watched over by saints +in Paradise, we were; and for my part if ever I get to Kabul, my duty +shall be paid to the tomb of Firdoos Gita Makani--on whom be peace." + +"Amen!" added her husband devoutly; "but for the memory of that good man +we should not be here now." + +It was on the third day that leaving Meroo in charge for a few hours +Foster-father and Roy set off to explore. They were fortunate in finding +some shepherds' huts within a walking distance for even footsore women, +and returned ere nightfall with a skin bag of fresh milk. + +Early next morning, therefore, they all set off, Roy girding on dead +Faithful's sword from the sledge that was wanted no more, and from that +moment feeling himself indeed bodyguard to the Heir-to-Empire. + +Once they had reached safety from starvation in the shepherds' huts, a +great desire for rest came upon them all; and for three whole days they +did nothing but eat, and sleep, and rejoice in the early spring +sunshine, and the early spring flowers. For the late snap of extreme +cold had passed and every green thing was hurrying to be ahead of its +neighbour. Bija made endless cowslip balls out of the beautiful +rose-pink primulas, while Roy and Mirak, following the shepherds' boys, +came back with their hands full of young rhubarb shoots and green fern +croziers, which they ate like asparagus. But this sort of thing could +not last long, since they were close to the caravan route from Kandahar +to Kabul; and sure enough, no sooner had the snow on the uplands melted +than travellers began to pass through. + +Thus news that the little party had escaped death soon filtered from +mouth to mouth, till it reached the Captain of the Escort, and ere long +Foster-father found himself and those in his care once more +semi-prisoners on their way to cruel brother Kumran; all the more cruel, +doubtless, because King Humayon had already begun the siege of Kandahar, +believing his little son to be still within its walls. + +Now Kumran was a far cleverer fellow than his brother Askurry; but there +was in him a love of deceit for deceit's sake, which spoiled all his +cleverness, for it made him uncertain what he would do in the end. This +indeed is always the case with deceitful people. They know that what +they say and do is _not_ straightforward and true, and so they are like +sailors without a compass. They have no fixed pole by which to steer. + +And, in addition, Kumran liked to be considered clever; so he was always +outwardly very courteous, very polite, very charming; but what he was +within none could say for long. + +Thus Foster-father's heart sank within him, when in the distance, down +the rocky ravine through which the Kabul River dashes, and along which +the caravan road took its high-perched way, he saw the battlemented wall +of the city, cresting the low hills on which the town was built. It was +a fully fortified town through which the river ran, and at its extreme +end, commanding the wider plain below, stood the citadel called the Bala +Hissar or High Fort. To reach this the travellers had to cross the iron +bridge and wend their way through the narrow bazaars. + +Such wonderful bazaars as they were, too! Crowded with tiny dark arched +shops, like caverns, full to the brim with Persian silk carpets, furs +from the north, turquoises and all kinds of precious stones from +out-of-the-way places with unpronounceable names. And there were such a +quantity of cats! Grey Persian cats and white ones, and tabbies and +black cats who sat on the balconies and stared at Down as she lay on +Horse-chestnut's broad, wavy back. For the Captain of the Escort had +found out what an excellent creature the old pony was, and had brought +it along with him. + +The High Fort was a huge place with great gardens within its battlements +and several separate palaces. Here, to Foster-father's unbounded +delight, they found that Prince Kumran was himself away, having gone out +with a small body of men to the Kandahar frontier, where King Humayon's +arrival had aroused loyalty. But what was still more cheering was the +news that he had left orders for the Heir-to-Empire and his sister to be +handed over on arrival to the charge of Dearest-Lady! Foster-father +could hardly believe his ears; for Dearest-Lady (as she was always +called by all her family, by all her nephews and nieces, by all her +grand nephews and nieces, and cousins, and every one who was lucky +enough to belong to her) was simply--Well! what was she not? Wise, and +gentle, and good, and clever--all this and more. She was the sort of +Dearest-Lady who lived so long in the hearts of those who knew her, +that, years after she was dead they would say, if there was any +difficult point to be settled--"We wonder what Dearest-Lady would have +said?" + +She was old, of course, for she was Babar the Brave's elder sister; the +sister to whom he had been devoted, who had always been to him also "his +Dearest-One." Now, when you come to think of it, boys and girls, that +is a nice sort of fame to have--to remain for--let me see how many +hundred years?--nearly four--Dearest-Lady, or Dearest-Gentleman to all +the world. + +This Dearest-Lady was, of course, the Heir-to-Empire's grand-aunt, and +the mere sound of her name was enough to calm Foster-father's fears. +Even Head-nurse, though she sniffed a little and said she had heard tell +that the Khanzada Khanum was a trifle careless of ceremonials, was +satisfied. There was no doubt that she was the Highest-Born-in-the-Land. + +As for little Prince Akbar himself, he only opened his big, grave eyes +widely when the tall white figure clasped him closely in its arms and +kissed his hair softly. + +"So like his grandfather," she murmured, "so like! so like!--the very +hands, the very feet--so strong, so shapely." And both in turn felt the +touch of the soft old lips. "And thou, too, small maiden," she continued +kindly, "welcome to one who has never yet let it be said in her hearing +that God made women weaker than man! Thou shalt learn here to be proud +thou wast born a girl. And you also, Nurse! Bring cooling sherbets, +slaves, while she tells me all that has happened." + +Then she sat and listened while Head-nurse told the tale of what had +happened, and her faded, gay, old face flashed and sparkled and grew +grave by turns. + +"But where is Tumbu?" she interrupted, "and where is Down? Bring them +hither, slaves! Lo! I love all animals, as my dear brother did!" + +And she laughed over their doings, and wept over Old Faithful's death, +while Bija and Mirak sat cuddled up close beside her, listening also and +enjoying the tale of their own adventures as if they had happened to +other children! + +"Surely," she said softly when Head-nurse ended, "my dearest brother--on +whom be peace--must have protected them! Lo! Mirak! and Bija--for I +shall call you naught else since they are sweet kindly names, better +than fine sounding titles--this very afternoon ye shall come with me to +the garden he loved, and where his earthly form lies at rest, and lay +flowers on his grave for thanks. Since he loved flowers as he loved +everything." + +So that evening, about an hour before sunset time, they were all carried +in litters to the Garden of the New Year, about a mile beyond the city. +It was a most peaceful, lovely spot, right up on the hillside with a +splendid view from it of valley and mountain and river. A fresh bubbling +spring ran through it, and beneath the Judas trees, whose leafless +branches were flushed with pink blossoms, stretched great carpets of +spring flowers. + +"Pluck him yonder tulips, Mirak," said Dearest-Lady with a smile. "He +loved to count their kinds and those--as he wrote--are 'yellow, double, +and scented like a rose'!" + +And the boy who was to grow to be a greater man even than his +grandfather, though he could scarcely be a more lovable one, plucked a +posy of the tulips and laid them on the plain marble slab which bore +nothing but the words, "Heaven is the eternal home of the Emperor +Babar." And when Bija, with many a little feminine ceremonial, had +deposited her nosegay of sweet violets, and Head-nurse and Foster-mother +had offered up their respects, they all went and sat down on a grassy +spot, and Dearest-Lady, who was always full of youthful curiosities +concerning all things, began to question Roy, who as a mere lad had been +allowed to come with them, as to what he could remember of the time +before he was picked up in the desert. + +"Hold my hand, child, and think," she said at last, "mayhap it may come +to thee then. The touch of kinship has power, and if I do not mistake +me, there is that in thy blood that is in mine--royalty!" + +So she clasped Roy's slim long-fingered hand and held it tight, and the +boy's face changed, his eyes grew startled, he shivered slightly. + +"Yea!" he said, "now I do remember. Mother was like you, and she told me +I had the mark of Kingship strong enough, for all the rebels might +say--" As he spoke, he drew down his loose garments, and there upon the +clear olive of his breast, just above the heart, showed a small dark +stain. + +Dearest-Lady bent close to look at it. "What is't?" she asked. + +"Mother said it was the sign of uttermost truth, and that we all had +it," he replied, speaking dreamily. + +"But who were we?" persisted Dearest-Lady, her kind eyes on the lad's. + +Just at that moment, however, Tumbu, who had, of course, accompanied +them, burst out with a series of shrill, short barks, and Roy was on his +feet in a second, his hand on Old Faithful's sword, lest any newcomer +might bring danger to his little master. But as it turned out Tumbu was +only excited by a water-rat! All the same the interruption prevented +Dearest-Lady's question from being answered, for the spell was broken. + +"Yea! thou wilt be true to the very uttermost, of that I am sure," said +Dearest-Lady, half pleased, half amused at the young Rajput's quick leap +to arms, "and so long as I have charge of the Heir-to-Empire thou shalt +be his esquire. So go call the litter-men, boy, it is time we returned. +I must remember I am gaoler as well as grand-aunt." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +CRUEL BROTHER KUMRAN + + +If Dearest-Lady was in truth a gaoler, she was a very kind one, and her +prison the pleasantest prison in the world. It would take too long to +tell how happily the next four months passed, not only for the two +children, but for Roy and Foster-father, Head-nurse and Foster-mother. +Even misshapen Meroo, in the kitchen, felt the better for helping to +cook the Khanzada Khanum's dinner. For that was one of Dearest-Lady's +virtues, she always made people feel contented, and as if they were +doing the right thing. So even Prince Kumran, when he returned to Kabul, +though he frowned at the big, bold, frank-faced boy who claimed to be +the Heir-to-an-Empire which his own fingers itched to have, did not feel +inclined to interfere with his aunt. The truth being that, like the rest +of the family, he loved and trusted her beyond measure; perhaps more +than did any of his brothers, since she had brought him up as a child. +And she, in her turn, though she knew his faults, though she not only +bewailed them, but resented them, at times most fiercely, could not +forget that he had been her nursling, could not forget, above all, that +he was her dear brother Babar's son. + +Thus all went smoothly in the Bala Hissar, where young Prince Akbar, +now close on three years old, looked and talked and acted like one of +six. This same strength of his was always getting him into scrapes with +people who did not believe he was so young, or, knowing him to be so +young, did not believe him to be so strong! + +He played a similar trick to the one he had played on cousin Yakoob at +Kandahar on his big cousin Ibrahim, Prince Kumran's son. It was about a +fine kettledrum all tasselled in royal fashion, with gold and silver, +that Ibrahim's father had given him. Being a selfish boy, he would not +allow Akbar to touch it; whereupon the Heir-to-Empire, after a brief +tussle, carried off the kettledrum and beat it loudly through the +palace! + +Kumran hearing of this was very angry, for the beating of a kettledrum +is a sign of Empire. + +"Keep that young fighting cock of thine in better order, madam," he said +to his aunt, "or I shall have to find him a sterner gaoler." + +Whereupon she flashed out and told him fairly that short of killing the +child, and for that crime even _he_ was not prepared, there was no way +of preventing the Heir-to-Empire from being what he was, a born king. +That was her way of quelling Kumran. By boldly setting aside the thought +of murder as impossible, she hoped to make it so; but she was not sure, +and after this she kept Mirak and Bija under control. + +It was not much good, however, when just as autumn was coming on news +arrived from Kandahar that Humayon had at last succeeded in taking the +city, and, disappointed in not finding his son in the palace, was +preparing to march on Kabul. + +Then the worst side of Prince Kumran showed itself at once. Like all +deceitful people, he was a coward at heart, and cowardice made him think +of immediate revenge upon his victorious brother. Of what use would even +two victories be to him if the Heir-to-Empire was beyond recall? + +So Kumran's charming polished manner vanished in an instant, and one +day, without any warning, little Mirak, playing in the garden, was +kidnapped by two stalwart Abyssinian slaves and carried off, howling +horribly and fighting with his fists, to the palace where Kumran's wife +lived. Tumbu, who was with him at the time, made a gallant show of +resistance, and actually bit one of the kidnapper's calves to the bone; +but when he found himself confronted with a whole regiment of armed men +who ran out to their assistance, he gave up the hopeless fight, and flew +off to tell Roy what had happened. And Roy, missing his little master, +fled to tell Dearest-Lady. Her face paled, but she did not hesitate. + +"My litter! page!" she cried, and drawing her white veil closer round +her, she went straight to the audience hall, where Kumran was receiving +his nobles; her great age, her great nobility, giving her a right, even +as a woman, to appear amongst them. + +All eyes turned to her tall, upright, slim figure, every ear thrilled to +the tones of her clear voice. + +"By what right," she asked, "has Kumran, the nephew I have nurtured, +stolen from my care the son of his elder brother, the Heir to that +Empire which Babar the Brave gave, dying, into the hands of Humayon, his +eldest son? I say there can be no right; and if it be wrong then will +God's curse light on the man who undoes his father's work. Lo! he is +worse than parricide, for he would kill that for which his father gave +his life." + +Now this appeal was a very strong one; for the story of how Babar the +Brave gave up his own life to save that of his darling son, Humayon, is +one of the most touching tales in Indian history, and none of Babar's +immediate family could even think of it without strong emotion. So it +was Kumran's turn to grow pale. + +"August lady," he replied, evading her question, "this is a matter of +policy with which women have naught to do. King Humayon hath taken +Kandahar, he hath imprisoned and degraded his brother Askurry, and for +this, I, Kumran, challenge him!" + +"And wherefore?" asked Dearest-Lady boldly. "Did not Askurry deserve it? +Nay! did he not deserve death? Did he not steal the King-of-Empire? Did +he not defy the king? Did he not send the Heir-to-Empire away, instead +of returning him to his father's keeping? I tell you, nephew Kumran, +that your father, Babar the Brave, Babar the Kindly, Babar the Generous, +Babar the Just, whom all men loved for his mercy, would have given +_death_ for such faults--and given it rightly. And will you, like a +fool, court death also?" She looked round the assembly to see many a +sullen, suspicious face, and understood that danger lay close at hand. +So her resolution was taken in a moment. "See you!" she went on, +"nothing has been done yet to make forgiveness impossible. Well! +I--Khanzada Khanum,--old as I am, will go forth to meet King Humayon and +plead thy cause. I will ask what boon you wish, and I promise it shall +be yours. Humayon will give much in exchange for his son, and none have +ever denied me anything. Shall it be so?" Then seeing hesitation she put +in a crafty word: "There will be time afterwards for--anything----" + +Kumran looked round his nobles, then into his own heart. What he saw +there was such a tissue of lies and deceit that he could find no clear +decision; so, as usual, he temporised. "It is worth a trial," he +murmured. "I might ask for much." + +"Ask for all and everything," said Dearest-Lady, who felt she had gained +her point; "I make but one condition. The child must remain unharmed +until I return." + +Again Kumran hesitated. Again he looked in his own heart. Again he found +no clear cause for decision there; so he said doubtfully: + +"Until you return?" + +"Nay! swear it," came the high, insistent voice. "Say before them all, +'By the memory of my dear father no harm shall come to the child ere you +return.'" + +Half unwillingly Kumran repeated the words and Dearest-Lady gave a sigh +of relief. She had gained her point. But now that she had to face the +consequences of her offer to go forth and meet Humayon her heart sank +within her; for she was very old and not over strong. The journey was +long; winter was coming on fast. Still it had to be done, and at once. +For Kumran's promise of safety to the Heir-to-Empire was only _during +her absence_, and who knew whether his craft might not claim freedom to +do as he chose ere she started! + +So she made her arrangements for that very evening, and she had much to +do. To begin with she must see the Heir-to-Empire the very last thing, +and make certain that he was well cared for. Then she had to arrange for +the safety and comfort of Head-nurse, Foster-mother and little Bija, for +it was unlikely they would be allowed to be with the little Prince. He +must, however, have some one with him to whom the child was accustomed, +and Roy, being still quite a lad, might not be considered dangerous. +Then his gift of story-telling might make the ladies in the women's +apartments more inclined to have him. Anyhow she must try her best to +secure his stopping with his young master, and to this end she ordered +him some fine clothes and gave him a finely bedizened lute; for since he +came to Kabul they had found out that he could play the _vina_ +beautifully. + +Thus just before sunsetting, leaving poor Head-nurse and Foster-mother +in floods of tears, while poor little Bija was sobbing her very heart +out, and good dog Tumbu was slowly wagging his tail as his eyes asked +sorrowfully if he might not come, too, she started on her journey, going +round by the Chief Palace on her way. + +Now, Dearest-Lady's visits were considered to be an honour, so she had +no difficulty in gaining admittance. And once inside the women's +apartments she simply turned to the first attendant and said curtly that +she had come to see the Heir-to-Empire and say farewell to him; +therefore he must either be brought to her or she must go to him. +Boldness succeeded, as it always does, and she was shown into a room +where she found little Prince Akbar playing contentedly with Down the +cat, who was running about after a ball like a young kitten. She stopped +when she saw Dearest-Lady, and giving an apologetic _miaow_, as who +should say, "I was obliged to amuse him somehow," settled herself down +on the rug and began as usual to purr. Of course Mirak forgot all about +her in his joy at seeing Dearest-Lady and Roy, and it was some time +before the former could ask the attendant how the cat had managed to get +there. + +"Highness," said the woman, "it is impossible to keep cats out if they +want to come in. She appeared at the window three times, and three times +I put her downstairs. Then I gave in. It is no use quarrelling with +cats." + +Meanwhile notice of Her Highness Dearest-Lady's arrival had reached +Kumran's wife and she hastened to little Akbar's prison room. But once +more Dearest-Lady was bold and took the first word. + +"I came to bid the boy farewell, content to trust him to thy kind care, +my niece," she said; "and also to leave with him this Rajput singer, who +has the art of amusing the child--and other folk also. Roy! sing us one +of thy tales, that the Princess may hear thee." + +And Roy, knowing his part, sang as he had never sung before. "I will +sing of how the palm squirrels helped the Great Ram to find his wife, +Sita the Peerless, whom the wicked Giant Ravana had carried off. We sing +it to the squirrels when we feed them in our country. Perhaps Her +Highness does not know what a palm squirrel is. It is tiny, tiny, no +bigger than a rat, but it has a bushy tail and four dark stripes like +finger marks down its goldy-coloured back. And it never does anything +but play, is never anything but happy; and this is why": + +Then he smote the strings of the _vina_ till they thrilled again, and +began, his high voice warbling and carolling like a summer bird. + + "Pretty! Pretty! Pretty! are you there, my sweet, + In your leafy seat, where the branches meet? + Wasting all the sunny hours + Pulling down the mango flowers + With your dainty feet. + + "Pretty, prettiest thing yawning as you lie + Watching with glad eye, busy life go by. + Not the tiniest sense of duty + In your careless days, my beauty, + 'Neath the cloudless sky. + + "Happiest, merriest ways, + Knowing no gainsays, so the story says, + Since the Great Ram loved and blessed you, + With his care-worn hand caressed you, + In the olden days. + + "Then, when he was seeking Sita, peerless maid, + By his foes dismayed, Ram, her lover, bade + All the beasts and birds and fishes + Leave their play to do his wishes, + Fight to give him aid. + + "And the golden squirrel sprang at his behest, + Nestled to his breast, first to join the quest. + But Great Ram's grave eyes grew tender, + Smiled upon the warrior slender, + Braver than the rest! + + "'Nay! thou art too pretty! fearless little heart, + Thou should'st have no part in Strife's bitter art; + Live to show man, worn and weary, + One blythe soul for ever cheery, + Free from sorrow's smart.' + + "Laid his kind hand softly on its golden hair, + So palm squirrels bear, where Ram's fingers were, + Four dark shadows on them, showing + Gladdest life must lose its glowing + From the touch of care. + + "So the squirrels' birthright is to want for naught, + Have no grief or thought, know not 'must' or 'ought.' + Yet upon their gold there lingers + Shades of care, that Great Ram's fingers + For their blessing wrought." + +"_Wah! Wah!_" cried the Queen, delighted. "He can stop if he likes." + +Ten minutes after Roy had finished his song Dearest-Lady's litter paused +for a moment on a high-perched corner of the road towards Kandahar, to +give her a last look of the fair city of Kabul. Her bright old face was +bright still, undimmed by care. She was old and frail, she was going a +wearisome, trying journey; yet, for the present, she knew that she had +saved the Heir-to-Empire's life. That at any rate was secure until she +returned--and she might never return! The thought made her smile. +"Forward, slaves!" she cried cheerfully, and Kabul, the city she loved +so well, was left behind without one regret. + +And she was right. She had saved the Heir-to-Empire's life; for at that +very minute the door of little Prince Akbar's room opened wide, and Roy +starting up found himself face to face with cruel Uncle Kumran followed +by two men with drawn swords. And, alas for Roy! he had no sword to +draw, for Old Faithful's sabre did not fit the disguise of a Rajput +bard. Despite that, he stepped forward boldly, though his heart beat to +suffocation. For Kumran's face was cruel indeed. + +Still, for one second, the latter's attention was distracted. He had +wanted no witnesses to what he meant to do. + +"How camest thou hither, slave?" he asked fiercely. + +And Roy gave him back the simple truth, no more, no less; but it was +sufficient. + +"Her Highness Khanzada Khanum brought me hither to be with the +Heir-to-Empire ere she left at sunset." + +Kumran started back. "Left? Hath she left already?" he asked, his face +paling. So he stood for a moment irresolute, the words of his own oath +pealing through his brain, "By the memory of my father I promise." That +was not one which any son of Babar's was ever likely to break. "Sheath +your swords, fools!" he said at last bitterly; "they are not needed. I +am not the first man who has been outwitted by a woman." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +IMPRISONMENT + + +But if Kumran was let and hindered by his oath from actually killing the +Heir-to-Empire in cold blood, or, in lesser degree, from treating him so +harshly that he might die, he did not feel so bound towards the others; +and being cruel by nature, he set to work upon them at once. +Foster-father he sent to the State prison, which was down a well in the +big courtyard. There were two of these prison-wells, in which the water +was reached by a flight of steep steps, and where dark, underground +cells opened on to the deep silent pool. They were terribly damp, but +here poor Foster-father had to drag out long, miserable days, cut off +even from news of the others. Until one day, just when the sentry was +eating his mid-day meal, he heard a violent barking, and by swinging +himself up by the bars of the tiny shaft of the well he could just get a +glimpse of Tumbu on the steps. Why had he come? Perhaps he had been +sent; if so he would come again at the same time. All that night +Foster-father lay awake, feverishly wondering what Tumbu had meant, and +all the next morning, having no means of telling the time, he waited and +waited anxiously, until, just as he was beginning to give up hope, the +familiar bark echoed down the well, and there was good old Tumbu on the +steps! So he must have been sent by some one; and therefore some one +must be alive and desire him to know the fact. + +In truth, both his wife, Foster-mother, and Head-nurse had been racking +their brains how to find out where either the Heir-to-Empire or +Foster-father were imprisoned until little Bija had said, "Tell Tumbu to +seek for them. If you show him Mirak's cap and say, 'Go seek,' he will +go." + +And so he did; but it was a long, long time before he found out where +Mirak had hidden himself, for he had gone to the big palace in a litter, +and so had left no trace. Then little Bija came to the rescue once more. + +"You say, Foster-mother, that you feel sure that Down must have gone +away to keep Mirak company. Now she _can't_ be prisoned, 'cos cats won't +be caught unless they want to be caught, and she doesn't want to be, _of +course_. So she must be going about, so why don't you tell Tumbu to seek +for Down; then we should find where Mirak was." + +"But we haven't got anything of Down's to show him," argued +Foster-mother. And that was a puzzler. + +At last Head-nurse said, "I believe all cats have the same smell, else +why do all dogs go after all cats? At any rate, it would be worth +trying." + +So they got a fine, large, handsome white cat in the bazaar, and said +to Tumbu, "Go seek!" And then there was the most awful scrimmage that +ever was seen. Tumbu was after the cat in a second, and the cat jumped +for protection on Head-nurse, and Head-nurse howled, while Tumbu +deafened everybody by yowls; for the cat had caught him on the nose! +Peace was not restored till pussy had made her escape back to the bazaar +through the window. + +"That was not a success," sighed poor Head-nurse as she put herself +tidy; but after all it was not such a failure, since, either from +putting two and two together, or by mere chance, Tumbu appeared the very +next day barking and frolicking after his usual fashion when he wanted +them to go out, and then led them straight to a lonely corner of the +palace garden, whence, looking upwards, they could plainly see Down +seated on a narrow window sill. And the next moment, hearing the +familiar bark, who should pop his head out of the window but Roy! + +"All's well," he whispered rapidly seeing them below him; then withdrew +his head swiftly. For he had determined never by anything or in any way +to risk being sent away from the little Heir-to-Empire. + +But the others were more than satisfied with the whisper. + +"Now," said little Bija, who was beginning to manage her nurses, "Tumbu +must find Foster-father and tell _him_." And this, we have seen, he +did. + +Even so, with the daily content of knowing that all were at least safe, +the time passed with deadly slowness, for the days grew to weeks, the +weeks to months, bringing no change. Denied, as he was, the outdoor +life, the fresh air to which he had been accustomed, little Prince Akbar +grew pale and thin. But his spirits did not flag, and he would laugh +over the tale of how Rajah Rasalu swung the Seventy Maidens as heartily +as ever, though sometimes his little lip would go down and he would say, +"If Bija were only here I'd never ask her to tumble down. I would go on +swinging till she wanted me to stop." + +So the winter came on, but still Dearest-Lady did not return. A letter +had come from her saying she had reached Kandahar in safety--that she +was staying in the Kar Garden outside the town which her father had +planted--that King Humayon was not angry--that he had already forgiven +Prince Askurry--that Kumran had nothing to fear if he only kept to his +promise. + +The prisoners, of course, knew nothing of this letter, but the effect of +it showed in a greater freedom. Foster-father was moved to a more +comfortable dungeon and Bija, Head-nurse and Foster-mother were allowed +to go and see the Heir-to-Empire. Their delight may be imagined, and +even Tumbu shared in the joy, for, when he was refused admittance and +left down below, he dashed up the stairs, evading the sentries and +barked furiously at the door to be let in. And the meeting between him +and Mirak was so pretty that the sentry had not the heart to insist on +poor doggie going down again. And this, in its way, was a good thing, +for it was the beginning of a sort of friendship between the young +Prince and this particular Afghan sentry. Sometimes, after he had been +relieved, he would come up to the little captive's room for a bit, and +listen to Roy's stories, or tell a few in his turn; for he had wandered +about, over half India, giving the use of his sword to any one who would +pay him well for it. + +"Lo! I have not heard that tale since I was in Rajputana!" he said one +day after Roy had been singing an old-world legend of fighting days. "It +was an old Brahman of Suryamer told it me of the Sun-Heroes." + +Roy's face flushed up in a second. "Suryamer is mine!" he said proudly; +"I am of the Sun-Heroes!" + +Then he started to his feet, pale as ashes. "I have remembered! I have +remembered at last," he said almost with a cry. "It is true! I was Rajah +of Suryamer! It has come back to me at last!" + +Then as suddenly he crouched down again and covered his face with both +hands. + +"Roy!" said little Prince Akbar gravely. "Why should you cry because you +are a King? I don't." + +The sentry laughed. "By my word," he remarked, "there is a blessed pair +of you Kings!" + +"Of course there is," assented the Heir-to-Empire with the greatest +dignity. "I have been one ever since I was born, and I always knew Roy +belonged to me!" Then in quick impulse he ran over to the Rajput lad and +flung his arms round his neck crying, "Oh Roy! Roy! I'm so glad you are +my brother!" + +"Not so fast, young sir," objected the sentry, who was hugely amused and +interested; "what proof can you bring of this, stripling?" + +Roy lifted a scared face; then hung his head. + +"None, save my memory, and this mark upon my breast. My mother said we +all had the stamp of truth over our hearts." + +The sentry shrugged his shoulders. "That is not much in this wicked +world," he said carelessly. "And anyhow it matters little if either or +both of you be Kings, since ye are in cruel Kumran's power." + +"Not till my Dearest-Lady returns," dissented little Akbar gravely. +"Head-nurse said so; and if cruel Uncle Kumran is to get me, +Dearest-Lady _won't_ come back. I _know_ she won't--so there!" + +And, as events turned out, the Heir-to-Empire was right! + +But a few days afterwards a messenger, bearing a blue handkerchief in +his hand--the sign of death tidings to the Royal Family--appeared in +hot haste before the nobles assembled in the Audience Hall. + +"News! News!" he cried breathlessly. "Cover your heads with dust, ye +people, while ye thank the Merciful One that Khanzada Khanum of the +House of Babar hath found freedom, that after a long and godly life she +hath found rest and peace. Bismillah--ul----" + +The long Arabic sentence went rolling through the Hall, while Kumran +stood stunned by the suddenness of his aunt's death. And yet it might +have been expected; the journey was far too trying for one of her years. +And she had risked it--for what? + +With a rush Kumran realised that his promise still held good, and for +the moment disappointment, anger, savage desire for revenge swept away +his regret. Yet even he could not fail to be touched by the letter his +brother Humayon had sent him by the hand of the messenger. Dearest-Lady +had, he said, pled his, Kumran's, cause well, and he, Humayon, was ready +to forgive for the sake of the dead woman who had loved them both, whom +they both loved, and who had died with a smile. + +But such softer feelings did not, could not linger long in a mind that +had no fixed belief in anything. Before a day had passed the feeling +that he had been tricked onto an oath he dared not break came uppermost +again. Foster-father was ordered back to his damp dungeon, the little +Heir-to-Empire and Roy were taken from the Palace and given over to the +charge of a man noted for his hardness of heart. Only the women and +little Bija, being of no account, were turned out into the streets to +beg or starve as they chose. + +Then followed a terrible month in which the little party were cut off +from news of one another. Only Down, the cat, wandering over roofs and +Heaven knows where and how, looked in here and there to settle on some +one's lap and purr. + +"Cats," said poor Head-nurse, as she sat opposite Foster-mother, +grinding for all they were worth at a stone hand-mill in order to gain +enough to keep Bija from starving, "are of all God's creatures the most +contented; and so little pleases them. Hark! to Down how she purrs, just +because she has found us poor miserable women." + +"Allah!" replied Foster-mother more cheerfully. "Is love such a little +thing? I think not, and Down hath seen my darling. Of that I feel sure; +she would not come and purr otherwise." + +Still it was silent comfort and there was so much going on; so much that +even the "miserable women" could not hear, though they were free to come +and go. But one day when Down was purring on Bija's lap in the straw +thatch which was all the three had for lodging, a passer-by paused to +say: + +[Illustration: _And one day the door did open.... "My son--my little +son."_] + +"That is the cat I used to see with the little King. Have you ought to +do with him, sister?" + +"I _am_ his sister," replied Bija haughtily, whereat the sentry, for it +was he, laughed; but for all that he paused to tell the two women what +he knew; though that was not much. It could not be long, however, he +said, before news of one sort or another came to them; for King Humayon +was, so they said, within a day's march of Kabul, and any time they +might hear the guns begin. Then would be his turn. He would fight till +all was blue, and then if the outsiders won, turn round and fight for +them as hardily, since all he required was plenty of fighting and plenty +of food and wine. + +He was right in one thing. The very next day about noon, a sudden +_pouf_--_bing-bing_--_thud_, told that the first shot had been fired. +And after that there was no peace and little safety. Only Foster-father +in his dungeon was free even from anxiety; for fever had seized on him +and he lay unconscious. And in his close prison room, where there was +little air and less light, and where Roy racked his brain for stories +wherewith to while away the leaden-footed hours, the little +Heir-to-Empire lay listless also, yet not ill. Only weary, weary. + +"I want Tumbu," he would say, "I want to run a race with him. I want to +be out of doors." + +And so while the city was alive with armed men, when there were +assaults and repulses and sorties and forlorn hopes going on day after +day, Roy would tell Mirak that some day something would happen. Some day +the door would open and---- + +And one day the door did open. And a tall man stood for a second, +half-blinded by the darkness. But the next he strode forward and caught +the little Heir-to-Empire to his heart, murmuring, "My son--my little +son!" + +It was King Humayon; for Kumran, after pleading for a few hours' truce +to allow him to make submission, had taken advantage of this breathing +time to make his escape with the more desperate of his followers. Fear +had overcome him once more. Having nothing in himself on which he could +rely, he could not trust to the generosity of his brother. + +So, after more than two and a half years of separation Akbar found his +father again. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE GARDEN OF GAMES + + +And now, for the time at any rate, Prince Akbar's adventures were over, +and all the little party prepared to enjoy themselves. Foster-father, +taken out of his dungeon, soon recovered consciousness, and the news of +King Humayon's victory and the Heir-to-Empire's safety, being the best +tonic in the world, he was soon about again. + +Head-nurse, at last absolutely restored to her proper position in Court, +found, however, that her young charge had considerably outgrown the +nursery. To begin with, his father, overjoyed at recovering his son, +could not see too much of him, and took him about with him wherever he +went. + +"Time enough for his education to begin when he is four," said Humayon, +when Foster-father pointed out that the boy was old beyond his years and +that if he did not soon begin schooling it would be difficult for him +by-and-bye. + +"Let be--friend, let be!" continued the fond father; "let us have a +while to amuse ourselves, now the trouble is over! I tell you I have +been in such straits these last four years that I have had no time to +amuse myself. Now I mean to show Kabul that life isn't so bad after +all!" + +So tall, handsome, good-natured, with a vivid love of colour and beauty +and a light-heartedness almost beyond belief,--light-heartedness which +had carried him through dangers that might have proved too much for one +less gay--Humayon set to work to lavish his money on the most +magnificent entertainments that ever were seen. + +So long as winter lasted these had to be held in the Bala Hissar, where +a sound of music and a ripple of laughter was to be heard day and night; +but as spring began once more to carpet the barren hills with millions +of flowers, Humayon's amusements went further afield. One day he and his +Court, a glittering cohort of merry men, flashing with diamonds, and +prepared to enjoy everything, would ride out many miles to see the great +groves of Judas trees flushed with their pink blossoms; ride out to find +a magnificent camp awaiting them, a magnificent repast prepared, and all +the best singers and dancers in Kabul ready to amuse them. Then the next +day, mayhap, they would all go a-hawking, and at each and all of these +diversions Humayon's little son was part of his father's enjoyment, and +so naturally, became more and more of a man every day. + +He used to ride on Horse-chestnut, and Tumbu was always of the party, +getting in consequence rather too fat, by reason of the rich food which +was given him. + +But despite all this fun and jollity little Prince Akbar was not quite +satisfied. + +"You took my mother away with you to the hills," he would say to his +father. "Why didn't you bring her back with you? I want to see her." + +Then King Humayon would laugh--for he was always merry--and bid his +little son be patient. His mother would come with the spring. At present +she was in Persia, but so soon as the passes were open she would start +for Kabul. And then there would be fun! Whereupon little Prince Akbar +would smile a dignified smile, and say, _of course_ there would be fun! + +Now out of this arose a plan which came into King Humayon's head, as so +many other plans came, without very much thought; for he was full of +kindly, not over-wise fancies. And this one was that little Prince Akbar +should choose his own mother! + +It would be rather a hard task for a child who had not seen her for two +years and a half, and who was but a baby of less than eighteen months +old when he had parted from her! But Humayon was convinced that _his_ +son would remember; and anyway, even if he did not, no harm would be +done and it would be very amusing. So orders were given for a huge +entertainment in the Arta Gardens just outside Kabul. They were the most +beautiful gardens, not close cropped and orderly like English gardens, +but with wide, bare, marble-paved walks and squares, big marble-stepped +tanks full of waterlilies, all set in tangles of widespread roses and +jasmine and gardenia. And here Humayon's fancy set up a Mystic Palace of +three Houses: The House of Pleasure; The House of Fortune, and the House +of Power. Never was such a beautiful Palace. By day it shone with the +reflected light of thousands and thousands of looking-glasses, by night +it rose outlined in every detail by thousands and thousands of little +lamps. Every marble path was spread with priceless silken carpets, the +very fountains were scented with attar-of-rose. All the musicians and +dancers and acrobats and jugglers of Kabul were commanded to be there, +snow came from the higher hills to ice the drinks, and cooks worked day +and night to prepare the most wonderful dishes. + +"That is what I call a King," remarked the Afghan sentry, whom Roy, +going with his little master to see the preparations, found keeping +guard at the gate. "None of your skinflints like Kumran. Aye!" he +continued, seeing Roy's look of surprise and distaste, "I have done what +I said I would--fought for Kumran till there was no more fighting to be +done. And now, like His Gracious Majesty King Humayon, I am enjoying +myself. I want no more! Ha! Ha!" + +Little Prince Akbar, who was standing by, turned on him sharply. "Thou +art a slave, fellow, and know nothing of Kingship. Roy and I do. In his +country Kings ride and shoot and play polo, and--and do things. +Besides," he added, "I want my mother." + +"Your Highness will have to choose her then, so I hear," began the +sentry almost rudely, and Roy started to rebuke him, but Prince Akbar +was first. + +"Of course I shall choose my own mother, slave. She is quite different, +you know, from any one else in the world. Isn't she, Roy?" + +The Rajput lad passed his hand over his forehead. "Mine was, Most Noble! +I should know her again if I ever saw her, but I never shall." + +"Say not that, boy," said the sentry, who, despite his roughness, had a +kind heart and was touched by the sorrow in Roy's voice. "I have an old +comrade down Suryamer way and I will speak to him of thee and see what +he says; then who knows but----" + +Little Akbar interrupted him gravely. "It is as God chooses. Roy always +says that. Don't you, Roy?" + +"By my word!" said the sentry, saluting, "you are a proper pair of +Kings." + +There were to be three days festival. On the first, that of Pleasure, +everybody was to be dressed in white, on the second day of Power all +were to be in scarlet, and on the third, the day of Fortune, the day on +which little Prince Akbar was to choose his mother, every one was to +wear green. Head-nurse and Foster-mother spent all their time in +devising wonderful new designs for their darling's dresses, and Humayon +himself added many little fanciful touches, for he had a most wonderful +imagination, and this festival, which was to welcome his wife to Kabul +and give her back her little son, occupied all his thoughts. + +The queen arrived on the first day, but, according to custom, in a +closed litter, and she went straight to the secluded balcony arranged +for the royal ladies, whence she could see without being seen. So she +had the advantage of her little son, who, in a magnificent costume of +white and silver, looked such a darling that Queen Humeeda longed to hug +him. + +"Has my Amma-_jan_ come?" whispered the little Prince to his father, "is +she up there behind the lattice of roses?" + +"Yea! she is there sure enough, little rogue," laughed Humayon. "So give +a good look right through the flowers." + +"No!" said little Akbar, "I've got to shut my eyes; then I can see her +with my other eyes." + +But his father was too busy directing the festival to hear what he said. + +So the first day passed on and everybody thought it was the very finest +entertainment that ever was seen. But the second day surpassed it. The +crowds, all in scarlet, filling the gardens, looked like bright roses +amid the green leaves, and the blare of golden trumpets, the scattering +of golden coins as _largesse_, the stately processions of soldiers made +it, indeed, a marvellous show of power; and this was increased by the +arrival of ambassadors from the Shah of Persia, who had so much helped +King Humayon. They brought magnificent presents and hearty +congratulations on success. So, nothing was lacking; and at night, lit +up by red fires, the scene was one never to be forgotten. But with the +dawn everything changed! A thousand servants set to work, and in one +short half hour the garden showed green. Green carpets, green trees, +green water falling from the fountains like liquid emeralds. And +by-and-bye came green crowds, every shade of green mixing and mingling +in harmony. And inside the arched pavilion of the house of Good Fortune +were green rustlings of silk, green shimmerings of satin as three +hundred ladies of the Court, all veiled with green veils, took their +seats in a semicircle. Three hundred ladies in green all dressed alike! +Which was Queen Humeeda? _That_, it was the part of a child of four to +tell, a child who had not seen his mother for two and a half years! + +The crowd outside, pale green, sage green, emerald green, leaf green, +were hushed to silence, waiting; but from every thicket of rose and +jasmine a chorus of singing birds, deftly concealed in cages behind the +leaves, filled the air as Humayon and his little son advanced to take +their places. The king was dressed in green also, a fine figure in royal +robes embroidered with a thousand allegorical designs. He took his seat +on a golden throne. + +And little Prince Akbar! + +He was the one spot of colour! He was the flower of the whole garden! +Dressed in rose satin of various shades, he looked indeed what +Head-nurse had called him fondly, thus adding to her string of titles, +"The Rose of the World." + +And now the great moment approaches! The little fellow takes his stand +fearlessly below his father; before him the semicircle of green veiled +ladies; a hundred in the first row, a hundred in the second row, a +hundred in the third row. + +But little Akbar's eyes as he stands there do not wander from row to +row. To tell the truth, his eyes are not open at all! He has them fast +closed; for so, he knows, he can see his mother. + +"Ladies! Unveil!" comes the king's voice. It sounds a little anxious. + +[Illustration: "_Ladies! unveil!_"] + +There is a rustling of silks and satins, a faint swishing of gauze and +muslins, and three hundred faces flash out, like flowers against leaves, +from their green draperies. + +Which is Queen Humeeda's? + +For an instant the child stands silent, his lips trembling, his face +flushing. Then his eyes open and he sees something. + +What is it? + +Is one face less smiling than another? + +Where is it? In the first row, or the second row, or the third row? + +What matter? There is a glad cry of---- + +"Amma-_jan_! My Amma-_jan_. There you are!" And a little flying figure +in rose-coloured satin has dashed across the floor to fling itself into +the arms of--Queen Humeeda. + +Little Akbar has found his own darlingest mother, and there is not a dry +eye in the whole assemblage. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +BETWIXT CUP AND LIP + + +Now it may indeed seem that all our little Heir-to-Empire's troubles +were over; but there is still somewhat to tell of our young hero. To +begin with, Queen Humeeda was a wise woman, and she saw that it was not +good for the little lad to be always at play. She knew that as a King's +son in the East, he would have small time after he was ten for +schooling, and as he was now close on four that did not leave many years +for teaching. + +So a tutor was found for him; but it is to be feared that he was by no +means an industrious scholar. Indeed, we hear of such dreadful things as +playing truant, so that when a day was fixed for an examination by +learned men as to how the Heir-to-Empire was getting on with his +studies, "at the master moment it was found that the scholar, having +attired himself for sport, had disappeared!" Then his first tutor was +dismissed because he encouraged his pupil in pigeon flying, and we read +of his applying his thoughts more to dog-fancying and Arab horses than +to his books. Still he did learn one thing, and a good thing, too. + +The day he was four years and four days old he was taught, as all little +Mohammedans are taught, to understand _what_ he was, _what_ the world +about him was, and to recognise that neither he himself, nor the world +he lived in were the Beginning and the End of all things. It was a +stately ceremonial, not beautiful, and lavish, and expensive like the +Festival of the Mystic Palace, but one which left its mark for always on +the mind of the child. + +Despite his dislike to books as the only way of learning to be wise, he +never forgot the day in the Great Mosque, when, before all his +relations, he had to stand up dressed in his simple every day clothes +and take the Holy Book from the hands of the high priest. And he never +forgot the high priest's words: + +"Read in the Name of Him who hath made all things in Heaven and earth, +and Who hath given men power to be wise." + +"_Bismillah!_--_Irruhman-nirruheem!_" he had answered as in duty bound, +which means, "Thanks be to Him who is merciful in this world and +merciful in the next world." + +In this way young Prince Akbar learned that every man has power to be +wise, and that the great mystery of birth and death is a merciful +mystery. + +Thus the summer passed and in early autumn King Humayon, who had now +wasted nearly a whole year in amusement, found it necessary to quell +rebellion in a neighbouring province. + +So the governorship of Kabul was made over to a trusted noble of the +Court, one Shurruf Khan by name, who was made as it were Regent for +little Prince Akbar, who was left with his attendants in regal state at +the palace in the Bala Hissar, while Queen Humeeda went back to India, +taking Bija with her, on a visit to her mother's relations. + +Roy, whose story had become known in the Court, was now made equerry to +the young prince, and very handsome he looked in his chain armour, with +the noonday sun all rayed and shiny in gold on his breast, in token that +he claimed to be a Sun-hero. As, indeed, seemed likely, since the Afghan +sentry's old Suryamer friend had a tale about a young Rajah who had been +kidnapped and, it was supposed, left in the desert to die. But whether +Roy was the young Rajah or not, who could tell? They might send the +story to Suryamer and see what befell. Meanwhile Roy was happy, and +little Akbar and he became more and more like elder and younger brother. +How much in after years the prince owed to the companionship of this +friend of his childhood it is impossible to say. Perhaps it accounts for +the marvellous way in which the Great Emperor Akbar ruled his Hindoo +subjects. + +Humayon had expected to return in a month's time, but luck was against +him. A King cannot waste a whole year in amusement and so let wicked men +have time to hatch plots without suffering for it. And Humayon did +suffer. He had to march and counter-march with winter coming on apace, +until he was struck down by sudden illness. At first the news caused no +alarm, for he was known to be strong and healthy; but there came a day +when folk began to whisper that the King was said to be lying +unconscious, that death might come any moment. + +The news stirred the whole city of Kabul to its depths. It had but +lately passed into the hands of Humayon. There were not wanting many who +preferred Kumran, and Kumran was in exile waiting an opportunity. + +And that came with the suddenness of a summer storm. One night the gates +of the town were closed by the Regent Shurruf Khan in Humayon's name; +the next dawn saw the Iron Entry, after a brief scuffle, opened in the +name of Kumran! There was a rush of armed men through the streets of the +town, a murder or two of loyal men in high authority. And then? + +Up at the Bala Hissar, Foster-father roused from his sleep, went in +haste to the Regent, expecting to hear bugles, to find troops gatherings +for defence; but the gates of the Fort were open! + +Shurruf Khan was traitor! He had gone over to the enemy. Ere an hour was +over Kumran, scowling, walked up and down the royal apartments, a King +once more; but biting his lips and frowning over something that stood +between him and perfect revenge! + +Foster-father, good old fool, was back in his dungeon in the well, +where this time he would rot. The women, as a change, were walled up in +a tiny room, where, bread and water being thrust in to them, they might +eat and live, or starve and die as they chose. + +But the Heir-to-Empire? What of him? Ah! fool that he had been to make +that promise to a crafty old woman who had died in order to spite him. +Kumran's anger rose fierce; he would have given anything to break his +oath; but he could not. He was not strong enough; even his wickedness +was not real. + +But, short of death, the young heir should have no shelter. Kumran flung +him into a miserable cell close to the Iron Gate and thought no more of +him. And now, but for faithful Roy, Akbar would indeed have been in +sorry plight. They had barely enough to eat, but Roy stinted himself, +eating nothing but the hard half-burned crusts of the coarse +hearth-cakes and excusing himself from even touching the miserable mess +of pease-porridge on the ground that he did not like it. So he grew thin +and his brown deer-eyes had a startled look. Indeed, he hardly slept at +all, but watched and dozed beside his little master all night long. + +Yet he was always cheerful. Always ready with stories and songs. When he +could not remember any new-old ones, he took to inventing tales of +people who were always in dangers and difficulties, but who took no +notice of them, who went on their way trusting in the Truth. + +"For! see you!" he would finish gravely, + + "He who has Truth + Need fear no ruth." + +So, ever and always his hero came out of his trials scathless. + +And, by degrees, this faith in final good grew deep into both the boys' +hearts, and showed in their very faces. + +"By my word!" said the Afghan sentry, whom chance one day sent to guard +them. "Ye be a precious pair of Kings!" + +He could admire them, though he did not seem in the least ashamed of +having yet once more turned his coat; for he was again on Kumran's side. + +How time passed none of the prisoners cared to count. But one day the +sudden roar of a great gun told them that the city was once more +besieged. In truth, Humayon hearing, while still on his bed of sickness, +the fatal news of Shurruf Khan's treachery, had strained every nerve, +ill as he was, to come to the rescue of his little son. It was +midwinter, the passes were blocked with snow, he and his troops had to +meet endless hardships; but at last they were before Kabul once more. +Camped on the Arkaban hill, opposite the Iron Gate, the artillery were +brought into position, the first shot fired. + +It would take too long to follow all the varied incidents of the siege. +But one thing was constant. Night after night recruits from inside the +town managed to scale the walls and join King Humayon's forces. They +were getting tired of Kumran, who, unable to satisfy his cruelty on the +little Heir-to-Empire, vented it on all and sundry. And day by day as +the number of the besieged dwindled, bit after bit of the town fell into +the besiegers' hands, until at last only the Bala Hissar remained. But +the Bala Hissar is a town in itself, and many a time has it withstood a +siege successfully. + +Now, however, it was near to the death. There could be no more talk or +thought of escape. Kumran, ever half-hearted, tried it one night and +failed, losing many followers in the attempt. + +After that his face hardened. He went about dreaming of revenge--revenge +on Humayon, even revenge on Dearest-Lady, who had tied his hands. + +"_Till I return!_" + +No! Dead folks can never return to the worldly. Even their memory comes +seldom, save to the pure in heart. + +And one night he hit on a plan. The fort was almost at its last gasp. +All day Sumbal Khan, Humayon's famous artillery general, had been +pounding away at the Iron Gate with deadly aim. A few more well-sent +shots would leave the bastion crumbling, and then---- + +Then would come the assault through the breach, and Kumran knew he could +not face it. His force was too small. + +So about midnight the door of Akbar's prison room was opened and Kumran +with a few armed men stood within. + +Roy, startled from a doze, was on his feet in a second. + +"What want ye?" he challenged fiercely. + +"Let the Hindoo fool alone," said Kumran to those who would have seized +on the Rajput lad. "All we want is the child. Take him, slaves, and be +quick about it." + +Ere the words were out of his mouth a stalwart man bent to lift the +sleeping Heir-to-Empire. Roy's sword flashed the same second, but, held +back by sneering men, he was helpless. + +"What want ye with him? I say, what want ye with him?" panted the poor +lad as he struggled madly. + +Kumran paused at the door to turn an icy cold look of cruelty upon him. +"What! Thou wouldst know? Then thou shalt have it, young idolater. It +may cool thy hot blood. I will dress him in dust colour like the walls +of Kabul and hang him over the battlement at dawn as a mark for my +brother's artillery. Then we shall see the breach in my citadel made! +Then we shall see my revenge--but it will not be of my making! His +father shall kill him." + +So with a mirthless laugh he followed his men, who were bearing away the +Heir-to-Empire, still but half awake. + +Roy stood for one second like a stone, too horror stricken for full +belief; but the echoing laugh convinced him; with a wild cry he rushed +to the narrow window and shook fruitlessly at its iron bars like a wild +animal when it is newly caged. But they were immovable. + +Yet something must be done--something--something---- + +The thought of dawn was too dreadful. The beautiful, calm, peaceful +April dawn, shadowy grey! Just light enough to see the outline of the +Bala Hissar, just light enough to begin upon the breach once more; but +too dark to see what was in the line of fire. + +Yes! Something must be done, and done swiftly. Not four hours left +before the eastern hills would begin to show dark against the coming of +day. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +ESCAPED + + +Once more Roy felt helpless and hopeless before the great task which +seemed to be laid upon him. He alone out of all the little +Heir-to-Empire's guardians knew the dire danger he was in. Yet how could +he, a poor, prisoned Rajput lad, save the young prince? + +Still he had to be saved; he must be saved; and there was no time to be +lost. At dawn the firing would recommence from the Arkaban hill; at dawn +the helpless child would be in the half-breached bastion exposed to that +fire! + +Yes! He, Roy, must get out somehow. If he could only loosen one bar of +the window so that he could squeeze through, then he might be able to +let himself down by a rope twined out of his long waist-cloth and +turban! Thus he might be able to get out of the fort! He might be able +to gain the camp on the Arkaban hill before dawn! So he might be able to +warn the guns not to fire on the bastion; might be able to tell them +that the Heir-to-Empire hung there! + +What a number of "might be ables"; but would he be able, even for the +first task? + +He took up his sword and began forthwith on the iron bar; but the mortar +was hard, he could scarcely make a mark upon it. Still, it must be done. +In order to free his arms better for the work he took off all his +clothes save his flimsy, sleeveless waistcoat and the loin-cloth that +was girt about him, and buckled down steadily. But when more than an +hour had passed the bar seemed as firm as ever. As he crouched down on +the window sill he could see through it to the flat roof of the +neighboring palaces; for it was a bright moonlight night still, though +the moon must be nigh to her setting. So the thought crossed his mind +that if he could only squeeze through he might be able to reach one of +those roofs; since, if he remembered aright, a wide cornice ran just +below. He paused for a second in his labour to see if this was so, +craning his head through the crossbars. Yes, the cornice was there! +Scarcely wide enough for a cat to walk, but if he got through in time he +would risk it. He must risk it! + +But would he get through in time? He set to work again feverishly until +suddenly a familiar sound reached his ear from outside; the sound of a +cat purring! + +Could it be Down? She had not found them out in their new prison, but if +she had happened to be on the roof when he looked out of the window she +might have seen him or smelled him--yes! There was a white cat on the +cornice, and the next moment Down was on the sill, arching her back and +purring away contentedly. + +So she had found them at last--no! not _them_, for the Heir-to-Empire +was not there--he had been stolen away! Roy could have leaned his head +on Down's soft fur and cried his heart out in despair at his own +helplessness, but he set his teeth instead and dug harder with the sword +point. + +Would the bar never loosen? So the minutes passed without a sound save +the grating of the eager sword and the soft, soothing purr of the cat as +she sat beside him watching him indifferently. Then suddenly the latter +ceased and Down leaped swiftly to the floor of the cell. Doubtless she +heard something. Cats hear so many things humans do not hear, and they +seem to know so many things humans do not know, so perhaps she heard a +mouse far down the arched passage, or even in the next cell. Anyhow she +marched straight to the door and stood by it, _miaowing_ to be let out. +Ah! if he only could let her out! If the door were only open, thought +poor Roy, as he worked away at the still immovable bar. + +"No! Down, no! I can't," he murmured bitterly as the cat _miaowed_ more +and more insistently. + +But still the _miaowing_ went on. Down became quite plaintive, then +ill-used; finally she leaped onto Roy's shoulder, licked his ear with +her rough red tongue as if to coax him, and was back again at the door +asking to be let out. + +Why was she so set on it? Roy turned to look at her half stupidly and +for a moment forgot his task; forgot how rapidly time was passing; +forgot everything save that Down was asking to be let out. So wearily he +passed to the door, and scarcely conscious of what he was doing, laid +his hand on the latch. + +"I can't, Down," he said; "I can't open--" He broke off hurriedly. + +For the latch yielded, the door opened!! + +It could never have been locked!! + +Had they forgotten, or, having secured the Heir-to-Empire, had they not +cared what became of the henchman? The latter, most likely, for there +was no sentry in the arched passage along which Down had already +disappeared. + +Another second and Roy, sword in hand, had disappeared down it also, +remembering as he ran a certain little fretted marble balcony which gave +on the gardens below. For Roy, of course, knew every turn of the Bala +Hissar. This balcony opened onto an unused gallery room. To gain this, +bolt the heavy door behind him, and so, secure from interruption, set to +work twining a rope from strips torn from his turban and waistband did +not take long; but it was a good twenty minutes before he had knotted +all fast; though while he worked he thought of nothing else; of nothing +but somehow reaching the garden. Once there he would face the next +difficulty. One was enough at a time. And then, when he had made the +rope fast to one of the marble pillars and slid down it, it proved too +short. He swung with his feet just touching the topmost branch of a +blossoming peach tree. There was nothing for it but to let go, snatch at +the branches as he fell and trust to chance for safety. He found it; and +dropped to the ground amid a perfect shower of shed peach petals. + +So he stood for an instant to consider what must come next. A gate! Aye! +but which? The farthest from the point of attack would be the best, as +there would be less vigilance there. That meant the Delhi gate, and +meant also a long round; yet he must be quick, for already there was a +faint lightening of the eastern sky. But the moon had set and the +shadows, always darker in the hour before dawn, lay upon all things. + +And luckily he knew every turn of the Bala Hissar garden, knew every +point where danger might be expected. So he began to make his way +carefully. He dodged more than one sentry by creeping on through the +bushes while the man passed away from him, and crouched among them, +still as a mouse, while the measured march came toward him. And once he +had to run for bare life from a shower of arrows which a company of +soldiers sent into the darkness after a suspicious rustling in the +bushes. But mostly the men on duty had too much to think of outside the +walls to trouble themselves much about the things inside them. + +So with doublings and turnings he came at last on the Delhi gate, a +small, round, flat-roofed building pierced by a high archway. It was too +dark for him to see its outline, but he knew it well, and paused against +the outside wall to consider what he had to do next. The place seemed +almost deserted, but a glimmer of light from the archway and the even +tramp of a sentry's footstep told it was not all unguarded. + +What was he to do? It would be useless for him to try and steal past the +sentry, as the gate beyond must be locked, or at any rate bolted and +barred. He must either, therefore, try and overpower the man or else try +to gain the flat roof by the stairs--of which he knew the position--and, +trusting to find a rope or something of the sort in the upper room of +the gate, let himself down into the ditch outside. + +Now, Roy was a well-grown lad of nigh fifteen, tall for his age, and +with his light, youthful sinews of iron might well be a match for many a +man, especially as his purpose was like steel, and that is ever half the +battle. But there was the chance of other soldiers being within call, +and that might mean failure. Now, _that_ must not be. Roy had to +succeed--he must! + +Therefore the roof was the wiser, safer plan; he must make for the +stairs, trusting to escape notice when the sentry's back was turned. +Till then--silence! + +But even as he settled this in his mind Fate was against him. As he +crouched in the darkness something cold suddenly touched his face, and +the next moment a clamour of excited yappings and joyful barks arose, +as something warm and furry and cold and slobbery flung itself all over +him. + +Tumbu! It could be nothing but blundering, bumbling Tumbu! He made one +useless effort to still the dog, then rose to his feet feeling himself +discovered, prepared to run for it. But it was too late. A sentry, +lantern in hand, roused by the commotion, barred the way. All seemed +lost, but a ray of hope shone when the familiar voice of the Afghan +sentry, the unrepentant turncoat, was heard as the lantern waved in +Roy's very face. + +"By my word, one of the Kings! How come you hither at this time o' +night, friend?" + +The voice was a little thick, as if the owner, finding the quiet of the +Delhi Gate wearisome, had sought amusement in a skin of wine. + +Roy gave a gasp--he was too confused for thought. "The dog--" he began. + +"Aye! The dog that was yours and is mine," jeered the sentry. "So he +nosed you out, did he? Knows his duty--good dog, Tumbu! Knows his master +now! Knows who saved him from starvation when he was lurking about in +the gutter. Eh! you brute!" + +He lunged a kick at Tumbu, who retreated a step, looking from the new to +the old master, feeling, in truth, a trifle confused. For the Afghan +sentry had certainly found him homeless, friendless, and the dog had +stuck by him, feeling that here at least was something vaguely connected +with the past life. But now he stood doubtful, expectant, his little +ears pricked, his small eyes watchful. + +"Well," continued the sentry with a half-drunken laugh, "dog or no dog, +you've no business here, so come along with me, my King." + +He reached out a heavy hand, and Roy shrunk from it. As he did so there +came a sound which sent the blood to Roy's heart with a spasm of instant +hope, of possible escape. It was Tumbu's low growl as he realised that +some one wanted to touch his old master and that his old master did not +want to be touched. + +"At him, Tumbu! At him, good dog!" The words came to Roy in a flash, and +like a flash the great, powerful dog leaped forward, his fur a-bristle, +his white teeth gleaming, and the next instant, taken by the suddenness +of the attack, the sentry lay on his back half stunned by the fall, +while Tumbu, on the top of him, checked even a cry by a clutch at his +throat. A soft clutch so far; but one that would tear through flesh if +needful. + +Roy was on his knees beside the fallen man. + +"Hist! not a sound or the dog shall kill you. He can. Give me the keys. +I want to get out of the gate! The keys, do you hear?" + +The sentry tried to struggle, but warned by the weight of the dog on his +breast and those sharp teeth ready to close upon his throat, murmured +hoarsely, "It is only barred, but the bolts are difficult. If you will +let me get up and call off your dog----" + +But Roy took no heed of his words. "Keep him there, Tumbu," he whispered +as he ran to the gate. + +Bolted and barred it was, and in the darkness of the archway it was hard +to see, for the lantern had gone out in the scuffle. But there was no +time to lose, for already beyond the archway it showed faintly light. +One bar down! The sentry made a faint effort to stir, that was answered +by an ominous growl from Tumbu. + +Only one more bolt now! + +Roy's long fingers were at it--his whole strength went to it--it +creaked--groaned--slid, and with a sob of exultation Roy felt the fresh +air of dawn in his face as he stood outside the Bala Hissar. + +But he had still much to do. The city must be skirted, the hill of +Arkaban gained, and already a faint primrose streak in the eastern sky +told of coming light. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +DAWN + + +Upon the Arkaban hill the artillery men were already at work. In those +days guns were not what they are now, quick loading, quick firing. + +It needed a good hour to ram the coarse powder down, adjust the round +ball and prepare the priming; to say nothing of the task of aiming. So, +long ere dawn, the glimmering lights were seen about the battery, which, +perched on a hill, gave on the half-breached bastion. Between the two +stretched an open space of undulating ground. Sumbal, "the master +fireworker," as he is called in the old history books, was up betimes +seeing to his men, and with him came a grave, silent man, who, though he +had no interest in the quarrels of Humayon and his brothers, was as +eager as any to get within the walls of Kabul and find what he sought--a +Rajput lad of whom word had been brought to a little half-desert Rajput +state lying far away in the Jesulmer plain. + +For the grave, silent man, who showed so much knowledge of warfare, who +was keen to see everything new in weapons and the handling of them, was +a messenger sent by a widowed mother to see if indeed it could be her +long-lost son, of whom a certain old trooper had spoken on his return +from Kabul. + +"See you!" said Sumbal, who was a bit of a boaster, "give me time to aim +and I'll warrant me 'Thunder of God'" (that was the name let in with +gold on the breech of the gun) "will hit the mark within a yard every +time. Thou shalt see it ere-long. There is a sort of pigeon place on the +face of the bastion where I will aim, and thou shalt see the splinters +of it spin!" He shaded his eyes with his hand and looked piercingly into +the shadows. "'Tis too dark to see it yet, but so soon as it shows I +will let fly, and then----" + +And then? + +Roy, who had never stopped for a breath yet in his headlong race, was at +that very moment rounding on the bastion, and looking up, saw what he +had feared to see--a little figure bound hand and foot to a framework of +wood that hung close to what Sumbal had called the pigeon place, seeming +to form part of it. The child was not crying. Perhaps he was past that. +Perhaps he had never cried, but had taken this last and urgent danger as +he had taken others, with grave dignity. + +All we know is that he hung there on the wall, and that before his very +eyes the light was growing in the east, and over in the hill battery a +dozen men were sweating away to bring the "Thunder of God" into +position. Roy gave a gasp. Should he call to the little Heir-to-Empire +and let him know that a friend was near, that help might come? No! +perhaps he did not realise his danger. It was better to let be. + +So gathering all his forces for a last effort, he dashed into the open +for the final five minutes' run. And there could be no dodging here. +Every loophole of the bastion was, he knew, crammed with the matchlocks +of many marksmen. And there was now, worse luck, little darkness to +cover him! + +"Three minutes more, friend!" said Sumbal boastfully, "and thou shalt +see what thou wilt see. Slave! the port fire, quick. I will give the +signal. Lo! What is up?" + +A rattle of musketry rose on the still air of dawn, and an artillery man +leaned over the low embrasure to see better into the intervening valley. + +"Some one escaping," he said with a yawn, for he had been up half the +night. "Lo! he runs like a hare! But they will have him, for sure." + +"Quick," called Sumbal, "we will silence their noise. The portfire, I +say. I will fire old Thunderer myself." + +The man carrying the flaming flashlight handed it to his superior, but +in so doing by some mischance it dropped, and in the dropping went out! + +"Fool!" cried Sumbal passionately. "Are we to stand insulted here +without reply while thou fetchest another? Put him in irons, sergeant, +and bring light at once!" + +But the grave, silent Rajput was watching the runner. "He is but a +boy," he said slowly, "yet see how he runs. And they have hit him, for +he staggers. Yet he comes on. He must bring news, friend, for sure!" + +[Illustration: "_I stay my hand while I count ten--no more._"] + +"News!" echoed Sumbal contemptuously; "we have half a hundred such +runaways coming in every day. It is no news that King Humayon is better +liked than Kumran. Lo! hast thou it at last?" He snatched the portfire +from the sergeant and went toward the gun. + +"Stay one moment, friend!" said the grave and silent man with sudden +command in his voice. "A moment's hastiness may bring disaster. +Discretion is better than valour. Yonder boy brings news--he waves his +arms--he shouts! Stay at least till we can hear what he says." + +Sumbal laughed. "Bah! But, see you, I stay my hand while I count ten--no +more." + +"One! two! three! four!" + +The artillery men, amused at the race, leaned over. "He runs well!--He +will win!--He will lose!--He climbs like a hill cat!"---- + +"_Five! six! seven! eight! nine!_" + +And now, unintelligible from sheer breathlessness, Roy's voice is heard. +The grave, silent Rajput leaps out to meet him. + +"_Ten!_" + +Sumbal's hand swings the portfire to the breech. + +Roy sees it, throws up his arms wildly, and with a cry-- + +"The bastion! The bastion! The Heir-to-Empire!" falls headlong into the +Rajput's arms. + +"What did he say?" asked the master fireworker, pausing half surprised, +half angry. + +But the Rajput was too busy tearing aside Roy's flimsy, bloodstained +waistcoat to answer. + +"Something about the bastion and the Heir-to-Empire, master!" said the +sergeant doubtfully. "Mayhap 'twould be as well to wait till we can see +more clearly. Kumran," he added in a lower voice, "would stick at +naught----" + +Sumbal hesitated, then put down the portfire and walked over to the +fallen lad, beside whom the stranger was kneeling. + +"He is not dead! He is not dead!" said the grave, silent Rajput, looking +up, his face working, the tears streaming down his bronzed cheek. "My +master is not dead!" + +"Who?" asked Sumbal, uncomprehending. + +"I knew it must be he!" went on the man exultantly, even in his grief. +"None could do that sort of thing save a Sun hero! My Master! my King! +See, here the race mark on his breast! The sign of uttermost truth! My +Master! My King!" + +But Roy did not hear himself called thus. He did not even know for days +afterwards if he had succeeded or if he had failed; for a wound just +above the heart, close to the sign-mark of his race, very nearly carried +him off into the Shadowy Land where all things are remembered, yet all +are forgotten. + +But he _had_ succeeded. He had saved the Heir-to-Empire's life that +dawn, and a day or two afterwards Kumran, daily more hated for his +cruelty, had escaped, and the soldiers, rejoiced to get rid of him, +flung open the gates of the Bala Hissar, thus ending Prince Akbar's +adventures. + +But when Roy came to himself Mirak was sitting beside him and Down was +purring on Bija's lap; Bija, who had just returned from India with Queen +Humeeda in time to console the Heir-to-Empire for all he must have +suffered during the few days he was left alone with cruel Uncle Kumran. +How much he had suffered no one knew, and the little fellow refused to +say anything about it. It was a way he had when the luck went against +him. So, just as he had remarked when he had fallen down the ravine, +when the white cat and the black dog first came to him, that he had +"tumbu-down," so now he simply said that it wasn't "very comfy," but +that Tumbu had come to see him more than once. And this was possible, +for you may be sure that once he allowed the Afghan sentry to rise, +Tumbu, being a wise dog, never went near him again. Therefore he _had_ +to find his old master. + +And Foster-father, Foster-mother and Head-nurse were all there, the +latter greatly subdued for the time, and in her gratitude to Roy +inclined to give him some of the titles she was wont to bestow on little +Prince Akbar. + +For there was no doubt whatever that the lad was the rightful Rajah of +Suryamer, whom wicked rebels had exposed in the desert to die, who had +been found and kept alive by wandering goatherds and had finally been +discovered when unconscious from sunstroke by the royal fugitives. + +And out of this arose the only sadness of the happy May days when the +little party once more journeyed out to Babar's tomb towards evening to +sit under the _arghawan_ trees and watch the sunset. + +Of course Dearest-Lady was not there, but all the others were assembled, +and Down, the cat, purred as loud as ever, while Tumbu, the dog, +frolicked round even more like a golliwog than before. But it was not +the absence of the Khanzada Khanum which made faces thoughtful at times. +She, they knew, was at rest, and they laid flowers for her beside those +they gathered in memory of Firdoos Gita Makani--on whom be peace! + +No! it was the knowledge that Roy could not remain with them. So soon as +he was strong again he must go back to his mother, go back to a people +who, tired of rebellion, were longing for their old rulers. + +"You see, brother, I am a King," said Roy sorrowfully, "and Kings cannot +always do what they like." + +"Do you think they ever do, _really_?" asked the little Heir-to-Empire +gravely, "for I don't." + +And here we come to the end--for a time at least--of Prince Akbar's +adventures. + +Now, if you want to know how much of this so-called veracious story is +really true, I cannot quite say. + +Did some one like Roy _really_ tell the master fireworker that the +Heir-to-Empire was hung over the battlements of the bastion? If some one +did not, how did the master-fireworker find it out? And he did; indeed, +in the history books he takes great credit to himself for _having_ found +it out. But then he was a boaster. + +Then did Dearest-Lady really bind Kumran by an oath not to harm the +Heir-to-Empire until she returned? + +If she did not, then why did she, an old, frail woman of seventy, go out +into the wilderness just as winter was coming on, and why did not cruel +Kumran kill the Heir-to-Empire when he had him in his power? + +These are all questions; but what is certain is that Baby Akbar did go +through all these adventures before he was five years old. + +So good-bye, brave little lads! Good-bye, stout old Foster-father and +kindly Foster-mother! Good-bye, worthy Head-nurse with your strings of +titles, and good-bye, dainty little Bija! Good-bye also to grinning +Meroo, to purring Down, and frolicking Tumbu! + +And for those other three whose memory remained--Old Faithful, Dearest +Lady, and the Great Emperor, Firdoos Gita Makani, who all helped the +little prince to safety, what of them? + +"Heaven," as the marble slab among the tulips and violets of the +Garden-of-the-New-Year says, + + "'Is their eternal abode.'" + + +WOODS & SONS, LTD., PRINTERS, LONDON, N. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Adventures of Akbar, by Flora Annie Steel + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF AKBAR *** + +***** This file should be named 18307.txt or 18307.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/3/0/18307/ + +Produced by Suzanne Lybarger, Brian Janes and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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