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margin-top: 0.0em; margin-bottom: 0.0em; } - .c024 { vertical-align: top; text-align: left; } - a:link { text-decoration: none; } - div.tnotes { padding-left:1em;padding-right:1em;background-color:#E3E4FA; - border:1px solid silver; margin:1em 5% 0 5%; text-align: justify; } - .epubonly {visibility: hidden; display: none; } - @media handheld { .epubonly { visibility: visible; display: inline; } } - .htmlonly {visibility: visible; display: inline; } - @media handheld { .htmlonly { visibility: hidden; display: none; } } - div.box { border: 1px black solid; } - ins.correction { text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray; } - .quote { font-size: 95%; margin-top: 1.0em; margin-bottom: 1.0em; } - .linegroup .group { margin: 0em auto; } - .inline { display: inline-block; text-align: center; vertical-align: middle; } - </style> - </head> - <body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of In Black and White, by Rudyard Kipling - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: In Black and White - The writings in prose and verse of Rudyard Kipling - -Author: Rudyard Kipling - -Release Date: June 8, 2020 [EBook #62346] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN BLACK AND WHITE *** - - - - -Produced by KD Weeks, MFR and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Transcriber’s Note:</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c001'>Footnotes have been collected at the end of each chapter, and are -linked for ease of reference.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Minor errors, attributable to the printer, have been corrected. Please -see the transcriber’s <a href='#endnote'>note</a> at the end of this text -for details regarding the handling of any textual issues encountered -during its preparation.</p> - -<div class='htmlonly'> - -<p class='c001'>Any corrections are indicated using an <ins class='correction' title='original'>underline</ins> -highlight. Placing the cursor over the correction will produce the -original text in a small popup.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id001'> -<img src='images/cover.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -</div> -<div class='epubonly'> - -<p class='c001'>Any corrections are indicated as hyperlinks, which will navigate the -reader to the corresponding entry in the corrections table in the -note at the end of the text.</p> - -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='box'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><span class='large'>RUDYARD KIPLING</span></div> - <div class='c002'><span class='large'><span class='sc'>Volume IV</span></span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div> - <h1 class='c003'><span class='large'>IN BLACK AND WHITE</span></h1> -</div> - -</div> - -<div id='frontis' class='figcenter id002'> -<img src='images/i_frontis.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic002'> -<p>ON THE CITY WALL</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div class='box'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c000'> - <div>THE WRITINGS IN PROSE AND VERSE OF</div> - <div class='c000'><span class='large'>RUDYARD KIPLING</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='box'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><span class='xxlarge'>IN BLACK AND</span></div> - <div><span class='xxlarge'>WHITE</span> <img class="inline" src="images/decoration3.jpg" height="25px" width="125px#" alt="" /></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id003'> -<img src='images/title_medallion.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>NEW YORK</div> - <div>CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS</div> - <div>1909</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>Copyright, 1895</i>,</div> - <div>By <span class='sc'>Macmillan and Co.</span></div> - <div class='c000'><i>Copyright, 1897</i>,</div> - <div>By <span class='sc'>Rudyard Kipling</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_v'>v</span> - <h2 class='c004'>PREFACE</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c005'>In Northern India stood a monastery called The -Chubára of Dhunni Bhagat. No one remembered -who or what Dhunni Bhagat had been. He had -lived his life, made a little money and spent it all, -as every good Hindu should do, on a work of -piety—the Chubára. That was full of brick cells, -gaily painted with the figures of Gods and kings -and elephants, where worn-out priests could sit -and meditate on the latter end of things: the paths -were brick-paved, and the naked feet of thousands -had worn them into gutters. Clumps of mangoes -sprouted from between the bricks; great pipal -trees overhung the well-windlass that whined all -day; and hosts of parrots tore through the trees. -Crows and squirrels were tame in that place, for -they knew that never a priest would touch them.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The wandering mendicants, charm-sellers, and -holy vagabonds for a hundred miles round used to -make the Chubára their place of call and rest. -Mahommedan, Sikh, and Hindu mixed equally under -the trees. They were old men, and when man -has come to the turnstiles of Night all the creeds -<span class='pageno' id='Page_vi'>vi</span>in the world seem to him wonderfully alike and -colourless.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Gobind the one-eyed told me this. He was a -holy man who lived on an island in the middle of -a river, and fed the fishes with little bread pellets -twice a day. In flood-time, when swollen corpses -stranded themselves at the foot of the island, Gobind -would cause them to be piously burned, for -the sake of the honour of mankind, and having -regard to his own account with God hereafter. -But when two-thirds of the island was torn away -in a spate, Gobind came across the river to Dhunni -Bhagat’s Chubára, he and his brass drinking-vessel -with the well-cord round the neck, his short arm-rest -crutch studded with brass nails, his roll of -bedding, his big pipe, his umbrella, and his tall -sugar-loaf hat with the nodding peacock feathers -in it. He wrapped himself up in his patched -quilt made of every colour and material in the -world, sat down in a sunny corner of the very -quiet Chubára, and, resting his arm on his short-handled -crutch, waited for death. The people -brought him food and little clumps of marigold -flowers, and he gave his blessing in return. He -was nearly blind, and his face was seamed and -lined and wrinkled beyond belief, for he had lived -in his time, which was before the English came -within five hundred miles of Dhunni Bhagat’s -Chubára.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_vii'>vii</span>When we grew to know each other well, Gobind -would tell me tales in a voice most like the -rumbling of heavy guns over a wooden bridge. His -tales were true, but not one in twenty could be -printed in an English book, because the English -do not think as natives do. They brood over -matters that a native would dismiss till a fitting -occasion; and what they would not think twice -about a native will brood over till a fitting occasion: -then native and English stare at each other -hopelessly across great gulfs of miscomprehension.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“And what,” said Gobind one Sunday evening, -“is your honoured craft, and by what manner of -means earn you your daily bread?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I am,” said I, “a <em>kerani</em>—one who writes -with a pen upon paper, not being in the service -of the Government.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Then what do you write?” said Gobind. -“Come nearer, for I cannot see your countenance, -and the light fails.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I write of all matters that lie within my understanding, -and of many that do not. But chiefly -I write of Life and Death, and men and women, -and Love and Fate, according to the measure of -my ability, telling the tale through the mouths of -one, two, or more people. Then by the favour -of God the tales are sold and money accrues to -me that I may keep alive.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Even so,” said Gobind. “That is the work -<span class='pageno' id='Page_viii'>viii</span>of the bazar story-teller; but he speaks straight to -men and women and does not write anything at -all. Only when the tale has aroused expectation -and calamities are about to befall the virtuous, he -stops suddenly and demands payment ere he continues -the narration. Is it so in your craft, my -son?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I have heard of such things when a tale is of -great length, and is sold as a cucumber, in small -pieces.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Ay, I was once a famed teller of stories when -I was begging on the road between Koshin and -Etra, before the last pilgrimage that ever I took -to Orissa. I told many tales and heard many more -at the rest-houses in the evening when we were -merry at the end of the march. It is in my heart -that grown men are but as little children in the -matter of tales, and the oldest tale is the most beloved.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“With your people that is truth,” said I. “But -in regard to our people they desire new tales, and -when all is written they rise up and declare that -the tale were better told in such and such a manner, -and doubt either the truth or the invention -thereof.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But what folly is theirs!” said Gobind, throwing -out his knotted hand. “A tale that is told is -a true tale as long as the telling lasts. And of -their talk upon it—you know how Bilas Khan, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_ix'>ix</span>that was the prince of tale-tellers, said to one -who mocked him in the great rest-house on the -Jhelum road: ‘Go on, my brother, and finish that -I have begun,’ and he who mocked took up the -tale, but having neither voice nor manner for the -task, came to a standstill, and the pilgrims at supper -made him eat abuse and stick half that night.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Nay, but with our people, money having -passed, it is their right; as we should turn against -a shoeseller in regard to shoes if those wore out. -If ever I make a book you shall see and judge.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“And the parrot said to the falling tree, Wait, -brother, till I fetch a prop!” said Gobind with a -grim chuckle. “God has given me eighty years, -and it may be some over. I cannot look for more -than day granted by day and as a favour at this -tide. Be swift.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“In what manner is it best to set about the -task,” said I, “O chiefest of those who string -pearls with their tongue?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“How do I know? Yet”—he thought for a -little—“how should I not know? God has made -very many heads, but there is only one heart in all -the world among your people or my people. They -are children in the matter of tales.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But none are so terrible as the little ones, if a -man misplace a word, or in a second telling vary -events by so much as one small devil.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Ay, I also have told tales to the little ones, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_x'>x</span>but do thou this—” His old eyes fell on the -gaudy paintings of the wall, the blue and red -dome, and the flames of the poinsettias beyond. -“Tell them first of those things that thou hast -seen and they have seen together. Thus their -knowledge will piece out thy imperfections. Tell -them of what thou alone hast seen, then what -thou hast heard, and since they be children tell -them of battles and kings, horses, devils, elephants, -and angels, but omit not to tell them of love and -such like. All the earth is full of tales to him who -listens and does not drive away the poor from his -door. The poor are the best of tale-tellers; for -they must lay their ear to the ground every night.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>After this conversation the idea grew in my -head, and Gobind was pressing in his inquiries as -to the health of the book.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Later, when we had been parted for months, it -happened that I was to go away and far off, and -I came to bid Gobind good-bye.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It is farewell between us now, for I go a very -long journey,” I said.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“And I also. A longer one than thou. But -what of the book?” said he.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It will be born in due season if it is so ordained.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I would I could see it,” said the old man, -huddling beneath his quilt. “But that will not -be. I die three days hence, in the night, a little -<span class='pageno' id='Page_xi'>xi</span>before the dawn. The term of my years is accomplished.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>In nine cases out of ten a native makes no miscalculation -as to the day of his death. He has -the foreknowledge of the beasts in this respect.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Then thou wilt depart in peace, and it is good -talk, for thou hast said that life is no delight to -thee.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But it is a pity that our book is not born. -How shall I know that there is any record of my -name?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Because I promise, in the forepart of the book, -preceding everything else, that it shall be written, -Gobind, sadhu, of the island in the river and -awaiting God in Dhunni Bhagat’s Chubára, first -spoke of the book,” said I.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“And gave counsel—an old man’s counsel. -Gobind, son of Gobind of the Chumi village in -the Karaon tehsil, in the district of Mooltan. Will -that be written also?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“That will be written also.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“And the book will go across the Black Water -to the houses of your people, and all the Sahibs -will know of me who am eighty years old?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“All who read the book shall know. I cannot -promise for the rest.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“That is good talk. Call aloud to all who are -in the monastery, and I will tell them this thing.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>They trooped up, <em>faquirs</em>, <em>sadhus</em>, <em>sunnyasis</em>, <em>byragis</em>, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_xii'>xii</span><em>nihangs</em>, and <em>mullahs</em>, priests of all faiths and -every degree of raggedness, and Gobind, leaning -upon his crutch, spoke so that they were visibly -filled with envy, and a white-haired senior bade -Gobind think of his latter end instead of transitory -repute in the mouths of strangers. Then Gobind -gave me his blessing, and I came away.</p> - -<p class='c001'>These tales have been collected from all places, -and all sorts of people, from priests in the Chubára, -from Ala Yar the carver, Jiwun Singh the carpenter, -nameless men on steamers and trains round the -world, women spinning outside their cottages in -the twilight, officers and gentlemen now dead and -buried, and a few, but these are the very best, my -father gave me. The greater part of them have -been published in magazines and newspapers, to -whose editors I am indebted; but some are new on -this side of the water, and some have not seen the -light before.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The most remarkable stories are, of course, those -which do not appear—for obvious reasons.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_xiii'>xiii</span> - <h2 class='c004'>CONTENTS</h2> -</div> - -<table class='table0' summary=''> -<colgroup> -<col width='83%' /> -<col width='16%' /> -</colgroup> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'><span class='small'>PAGE</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>DRAY WARA YOW DEE</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#Page_1'>1</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>NAMGAY DOOLA</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#Page_17'>17</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>“THE CITY OF DREADFUL NIGHT”</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#Page_35'>35</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>THE JUDGMENT OF DUNGARA</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#Page_46'>46</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>THE FINANCES OF THE GODS</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#Page_60'>60</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>AT HOWLI THANA</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#Page_67'>67</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>IN FLOOD TIME</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#Page_75'>75</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>MOTI GUJ—MUTINEER</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#Page_90'>90</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>WITHOUT BENEFIT OF CLERGY</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#Page_101'>101</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>NABOTH</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#Page_139'>139</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>THE SENDING OF DANA DA</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#Page_145'>145</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>THROUGH THE FIRE</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#Page_161'>161</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>THE HEAD OF THE DISTRICT</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#Page_168'>168</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>THE AMIR’S HOMILY</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#Page_204'>204</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>AT TWENTY-TWO</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#Page_210'>210</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>JEWS IN SHUSHAN</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#Page_227'>227</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>GEORGIE PORGIE</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#Page_233'>233</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_xiv'>xiv</span>LITTLE TOBRAH</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#Page_247'>247</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>GEMINI</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#Page_252'>252</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>THE LIMITATIONS OF PAMBÉ SERANG</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#Page_266'>266</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>ONE VIEW OF THE QUESTION</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#Page_274'>274</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td class='c008' colspan='2'><span class='small'>FROM “MANY INVENTIONS.”</span></td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>ON THE CITY WALL</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#Page_302'>302</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>THE ENLIGHTENMENTS OF PAGETT, M. P.</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#Page_340'>340</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/decoration.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_xv'>xv</span> - <h2 class='c009'>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> -</div> - -<table class='table0' summary=''> -<colgroup> -<col width='78%' /> -<col width='21%' /> -</colgroup> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>ON THE CITY WALL</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='fss'>FRONTISPIECE</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>THE JUDGMENT OF DUNGARA</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='fss'>PAGE</span> <a href='#i052'>52</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>THE SENDING OF DANA DA</td> - <td class='c007'><a href='#i158'>158</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_1'>1</span> - <h1 class='c010'>IN BLACK AND WHITE</h1> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c011'>DRAY WARA YOW DEE</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>For jealousy is the rage of a man: therefore he will not -spare in the day of vengeance.—<cite>Prov.</cite> vi. 34.</p> - -<p class='drop-capa0_4_0_4 c013'>Almonds and raisins, Sahib? Grapes from -Kabul? Or a pony of the rarest if the -Sahib will only come with me. He is thirteen -three, Sahib, plays polo, goes in a cart, carries a -lady and—Holy Kurshed and the Blessed Imams, -it is the Sahib himself! My heart is made fat and -my eye glad. May you never be tired! As is -cold water in the Tirah, so is the sight of a friend -in a far place. And what do <em>you</em> in this accursed -land? South of Delhi, Sahib, you know the saying—“Rats -are the men and trulls the women.” -It was an order? Ahoo! An order is an order -till one is strong enough to disobey. O my -brother, O my friend, we have met in an auspicious -hour! Is all well in the heart and the body and -the house? In a lucky day have we two come -together again.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2'>2</span>I am to go with you? Your favour is great. -Will there be picket-room in the compound? I -have three horses and the bundles and the horse-boy. -Moreover, remember that the police here -hold me a horse-thief. What do these Lowland -bastards know of horse-thieves? Do you remember -that time in Peshawur when Kamal hammered -on the gates of Jumrud—mountebank that he -was—and lifted the Colonel’s horses all in one -night? Kamal is dead now, but his nephew has -taken up the matter, and there will be more horses -amissing if the Khaiber Levies do not look to it.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The Peace of God and the favour of His -Prophet be upon this house and all that is in it! -Shafizullah, rope the mottled mare under the tree -and draw water. The horses can stand in the sun, -but double the felts over the loins. Nay, my -friend, do not trouble to look them over. They -are to sell to the Officer fools who know so many -things of the horse. The mare is heavy in foal; -the gray is a devil unlicked; and the dun—but -you know the trick of the peg. When they are -sold I go back to Pubbi, or, it may be, the Valley -of Peshawur.</p> - -<p class='c001'>O friend of my heart, it is good to see you -again. I have been bowing and lying all day to -the Officer Sahibs in respect to those horses; and -my mouth is dry for straight talk. <em>Auggrh!</em> -Before a meal tobacco is good. Do not join <a id='corr2.29'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='me.'>me,</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_2.29'><ins class='correction' title='me.'>me,</ins></a></span> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_3'>3</span>for we are not in our own country. Sit in the -verandah and I will spread my cloth here. But -first I will drink. <em>In the name of God returning -thanks, thrice!</em> This is sweet water, indeed—sweet -as the water of Sheoran when it comes from -the snows.</p> - -<p class='c001'>They are all well and pleased in the North—Khoda -Baksh and the others. Yar Khan has -come down with the horses from Kurdistan—six -and thirty head only, and a full half pack-ponies—and -has said openly in the Kashmir Serai that -you English should send guns and blow the Amir -into Hell. There are <em>fifteen</em> tolls now on the -Kabul road; and at Dakka, when he thought he -was clear, Yar Khan was stripped of all his Balkh -stallions by the Governor! This is a great injustice, -and Yar Khan is hot with rage. And of -the others: Mahbub Ali is still at Pubbi, writing -God knows what. Tugluq Khan is in jail for the -business of the Kohat Police Post. Faiz Beg -came down from Ismail-ki-Dhera with a Bokhariot -belt for thee, my brother, at the closing of the year, -but none knew whither thou hadst gone: there -was no news left behind. The Cousins have taken -a new run near Pakpattan to breed mules for the -Government carts, and there is a story in Bazar of -a priest. Oho! Such a salt tale! Listen——</p> - -<p class='c001'>Sahib, why do you ask that? My clothes are -fouled because of the dust on the road. My eyes -<span class='pageno' id='Page_4'>4</span>are sad because of the glare of the sun. My feet -are swollen because I have washed them in bitter -water, and my cheeks are hollow because the food -here is bad. Fire burn your money! What do -I want with it? I am rich and I thought you -were my friend; but you are like the others—a -Sahib. Is a man sad? Give him money, say the -Sahibs. Is he dishonoured? Give him money, -say the Sahibs. Hath he a wrong upon his head? -Give him money, say the Sahibs. Such are the -Sahibs, and such art thou—even thou.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Nay, do not look at the feet of the dun. Pity -it is that I ever taught you to know the legs of -a horse. Footsore? Be it so. What of that? -The roads are hard. And the mare footsore? -She bears a double burden, Sahib.</p> - -<p class='c001'>And now I pray you, give me permission to -depart. Great favour and honour has the Sahib -done me, and graciously has he shown his belief -that the horses are stolen. Will it please him to -send me to the Thana? To call a sweeper and -have me led away by one of these lizard-men? -I am the Sahib’s friend. I have drunk water in -the shadow of his house, and he has blackened my -face. Remains there anything more to do? Will -the Sahib give me eight annas to make smooth the -injury and—complete the insult——?</p> - -<p class='c001'>Forgive me, my brother. I knew not—I know -not now—what I say. Yes, I lied to you! I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_5'>5</span>will put dust on my head—and I am an Afridi! -The horses have been marched footsore from the -Valley to this place, and my eyes are dim, and my -body aches for the want of sleep, and my heart is -dried up with sorrow and shame. But as it was -my shame, so by God the Dispenser of Justice—by -Allah-al-Mumit—it shall be my own revenge!</p> - -<p class='c001'>We have spoken together with naked hearts -before this, and our hands have dipped into the -same dish and thou hast been to me as a brother. -Therefore I pay thee back with lies and ingratitude—as -a Pathan. Listen now! When the -grief of the soul is too heavy for endurance it -may be a little eased by speech, and, moreover, -the mind of a true man is as a well, and the pebble -of confession dropped therein sinks and is no -more seen. From the Valley have I come on -foot, league by league, with a fire in my chest -like the fire of the Pit. And why? Hast thou, -then, so quickly forgotten our customs, among -this folk who sell their wives and their daughters -for silver? Come back with me to the North -and be among men once more. Come back, -when this matter is accomplished and I call for -thee! The bloom of the peach-orchards is upon -all the Valley, and <em>here</em> is only dust and a great -stink. There is a pleasant wind among the mulberry -trees, and the streams are bright with snow-water, -and the caravans go up and the caravans go -<span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span>down, and a hundred fires sparkle in the gut of -the Pass, and tent-peg answers hammer-nose, and -pack-horse squeals to pack-horse across the drift -smoke of the evening. It is good in the North -now. Come back with me. Let us return to our -own people! Come!</p> - -<hr class='c014' /> - -<p class='c001'>Whence is my sorrow? Does a man tear out -his heart and make fritters thereof over a slow fire -for aught other than a woman? Do not laugh, -friend of mine, for your time will also be. A woman -of the Abazai was she, and I took her to wife to -staunch the feud between our village and the men -of Ghor. I am no longer young? The lime has -touched my beard? True. I had no need of the -wedding? Nay, but I loved her. What saith -Rahman: “Into whose heart Love enters, there is -Folly <em>and naught else</em>. By a glance of the eye she -hath blinded thee; and by the eyelids and the -fringe of the eyelids taken thee into the captivity -without ransom, <em>and naught else</em>.” Dost thou remember -that song at the sheep-roasting in the -Pindi camp among the Uzbegs of the Amir?</p> - -<p class='c001'>The Abazai are dogs and their women the servants -of sin. There was a lover of her own people, -but of that her father told me naught. My friend, -curse for me in your prayers, as I curse at each -praying from the Fakr to the Isha, the name of -Daoud Shah, Abazai, whose head is still upon his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>neck, whose hands are still upon his wrists, who -has done me dishonour, who has made my name -a laughing-stock among the women of Little -Malikand.</p> - -<p class='c001'>I went into Hindustan at the end of two months—to -Cherat. I was gone twelve days only; but -I had said that I would be fifteen days absent. -This I did to try her, for it is written: “Trust not -the incapable.” Coming up the gorge alone in the -falling of the light, I heard the voice of a man -singing at the door of my house; and it was the -voice of Daoud Shah, and the song that he sang -was “<em>Dray wara yow dee</em>”—“All three are one.” -It was as though a heel-rope had been slipped round -my heart and all the Devils were drawing it tight -past endurance. I crept silently up the hill-road, -but the fuse of my matchlock was wetted with the -rain, and I could not slay Daoud Shah from afar. -Moreover, it was in my mind to kill the woman -also. Thus he sang, sitting outside my house, and, -anon, the woman opened the door, and I came -nearer, crawling on my belly among the rocks. I -had only my knife to my hand. But a stone slipped -under my foot, and the two looked down the hillside, -and he, leaving his matchlock, fled from my -anger, because he was afraid for the life that was -in him. But the woman moved not till I stood in -front of her, crying: “O woman, what is this that -thou hast done?” And she, void of fear, though -<span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>she knew my thought, laughed, saying: “It is a -little thing. I loved him, and <em>thou</em> art a dog and -cattle-thief coming by night. Strike!” And I, -being still blinded by her beauty, for, O my friend, -the women of the Abazai are very fair, said: “Hast -thou no fear?” And she answered: “None—but -only the fear that I do not die.” Then said -I: “Have no fear.” And she bowed her head, -and I smote it off at the neck-bone so that it leaped -between my feet. Thereafter the rage of our people -came upon me, and I hacked off the breasts, -that the men of Little Malikand might know the -crime, and cast the body into the water-course -that flows to the Kabul river. <em>Dray wara yow -dee! Dray wara yow dee!</em> The body without -the head, the soul without light, and my own -darkling heart—all three are one—all three are -one!</p> - -<p class='c001'>That night, making no halt, I went to Ghor and -demanded news of Daoud Shah. Men said: “He -is gone to Pubbi for horses. What wouldst thou -of him? There is peace between the villages.” -I made answer: “Aye! The peace of treachery -and the love that the Devil Atala bore to Gurel.” -So I fired thrice into the gate and laughed and -went my way.</p> - -<p class='c001'>In those hours, brother and friend of my heart’s -heart, the moon and the stars were as blood above -me, and in my mouth was the taste of dry earth. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>Also, I broke no bread, and my drink was the rain -of the Valley of Ghor upon my face.</p> - -<p class='c001'>At Pubbi I found Mahbub Ali, the writer, sitting -upon his charpoy, and gave up my arms according -to your Law. But I was not grieved, for -it was in my heart that I should kill Daoud Shah -with my bare hands thus—as a man strips a bunch -of raisins. Mahbub Ali said: “Daoud Shah has -even now gone hot-foot to Peshawur, and he will -pick up his horses upon the road to Delhi, for it -is said that the Bombay Tramway Company are -buying horses there by the truck-load; eight horses -to the truck.” And that was a true saying.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Then I saw that the hunting would be no little -thing, for the man was gone into your borders -to save himself against my wrath. And shall he -save himself so? Am I not alive? Though he -run northward to the Dora and the snow, or southerly -to the Black Water, I will follow him, as a -lover follows the footsteps of his mistress, and coming -upon him I will take him tenderly—Aho! so -tenderly!—in my arms, saying: “Well hast thou -done and well shalt thou be repaid.” And out of -that embrace Daoud Shah shall not go forth with -the breath in his nostrils. <em>Auggrh!</em> Where is the -pitcher? I am as thirsty as a mother-mare in the -first month.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Your Law! What is your Law to me? When -the horses fight on the runs do they regard the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>boundary pillars; or do the kites of Ali Musjid -forbear because the carrion lies under the shadow -of the Ghor Kuttri? The matter began across -the Border. It shall finish where God pleases. -Here, in my own country, or in Hell. All three -are one.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Listen now, sharer of the sorrow of my heart, -and I will tell of the hunting. I followed to Peshawur -from Pubbi, and I went to and fro about -the streets of Peshawur like a houseless dog, seeking -for my enemy. Once I thought that I saw -him washing his mouth in the conduit in the big -square, but when I came up he was gone. It may -be that it was he, and, seeing my face, he had fled.</p> - -<p class='c001'>A girl of the bazar said that he would go to -Nowshera. I said: “O heart’s heart, does Daoud -Shah visit thee?” And she said: “Even so.” I -said: “I would fain see him, for we be friends -parted for two years. Hide me, I pray, here in -the shadow of the window shutter, and I will wait -for his coming.” And the girl said: “O Pathan, -look into my eyes!” And I turned, leaning upon -her breast, and looked into her eyes, swearing that -I spoke the very Truth of God. But she answered: -“Never friend waited friend with such eyes. Lie -to God and the Prophet, but to a woman ye cannot -lie. Get hence! There shall no harm befall -Daoud Shah by cause of me.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>I would have strangled that girl but for the fear -<span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>of your Police; and thus the hunting would have -come to naught. Therefore I only laughed and -departed, and she leaned over the window-bar in -the night and mocked me down the street. Her -name is Jamun. When I have made my account -with the man I will return to Peshawur and—her -lovers shall desire her no more for her beauty’s -sake. She shall not be <em>Jamun</em>, but <em>Ak</em>, the cripple -among trees. Ho! Ho! <em>Ak</em> shall she be!</p> - -<p class='c001'>At Peshawur I bought the horses and grapes, -and the almonds and dried fruits, that the reason -of my wanderings might be open to the Government, -and that there might be no hindrance upon -the road. But when I came to Nowshera he was -gone, and I knew not where to go. I stayed one -day at Nowshera, and in the night a Voice spoke -in my ears as I slept among the horses. All night -it flew round my head and would not cease from -whispering. I was upon my belly, sleeping as -the Devils sleep, and it may have been that the -Voice was the voice of a Devil. It said: “Go -south, and thou shalt come upon Daoud Shah.” -Listen, my brother and chiefest among friends—listen! -Is the tale a long one? Think how it was -long to me. I have trodden every league of the -road from Pubbi to this place; and from Nowshera -my guide was only the Voice and the lust -of vengeance.</p> - -<p class='c001'>To the Uttock I went, but that was no hindrance -<span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>to me. Ho! Ho! A man may turn the -word twice, even in his trouble. The Uttock -was no <em>uttock</em> [obstacle] to me; and I heard the -Voice above the noise of the waters beating on -the big rock, saying: “Go to the right.” So I -went to Pindigheb, and in those days my sleep -was taken from me utterly, and the head of the -woman of the Abazai was before me night and -day, even as it had fallen between my feet. <i>Dray -wara yow dee! Dray wara yow dee!</i> Fire, ashes, -and my couch, all three are one—all three are -one!</p> - -<p class='c001'>Now I was far from the winter path of the dealers -who had gone to Sialkot and so south by the -rail and the Big Road to the line of cantonments; -but there was a Sahib in camp at Pindigheb who -bought from me a white mare at a good price, -and told me that one Daoud Shah had passed to -Shahpur with horses. Then I saw that the warning -of the Voice was true, and made swift to come -to the Salt Hills. The Jhelum was in flood, but -I could not wait, and, in the crossing, a bay stallion -was washed down and drowned. Herein -was God hard to me—not in respect of the beast, -of that I had no care—but in this snatching. -While I was upon the right bank urging the -horses into the water, Daoud Shah was upon the -left; for—<em>Alghias! Alghias!</em>—the hoofs of my -mare scattered the hot ashes of his fires when we -<span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>came up the hither bank in the light of morning. -But he had fled. His feet were made swift by -the terror of Death. And I went south from -Shahpur as the kite flies. I dared not turn aside, -lest I should miss my vengeance—which is my -right. From Shahpur I skirted by the Jhelum, -for I thought that he would avoid the Desert of -the Rechna. But, presently, at Sahiwal, I turned -away upon the road to Jhang, Samundri, and -Gugera, till, upon a night, the mottled mare -breasted the fence of the rail that runs to Montgomery. -And that place was Okara, and the head -of the woman of the Abazai lay upon the sand -between my feet.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Thence I went to Fazilka, and they said that -I was mad to bring starved horses there. The -Voice was with me, and I was <em>not</em> mad, but only -wearied, because I could not find Daoud Shah. -It was written that I should not find him at Rania -nor Bahadurgarh, and I came into Delhi from the -west, and there also I found him not. My friend, -I have seen many strange things in my wanderings. -I have seen Devils rioting across the Rechna -as the stallions riot in spring. I have heard the -<em>Djinns</em> calling to each other from holes in the -sand, and I have seen them pass before my face. -There are no Devils, say the Sahibs? They are -very wise, but they do not know all things about -devils or—horses. Ho! Ho! I say to you who -<span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>are laughing at my misery, that I have seen the -Devils at high noon whooping and leaping on the -shoals of the Chenab. And was I afraid? My -brother, when the desire of a man is set upon one -thing alone, he fears neither God nor Man nor -Devil. If my vengeance failed, I would splinter -the Gates of Paradise with the butt of my gun, or -I would cut my way into Hell with my knife, -and I would call upon Those who Govern there -for the body of Daoud Shah. What love so deep -as hate?</p> - -<p class='c001'>Do not speak. I know the thought in your -heart. Is the white of this eye clouded? How -does the blood beat at the wrist? There is no -madness in my flesh, but only the vehemence -of the desire that has eaten me up. Listen!</p> - -<p class='c001'>South of Delhi I knew not the country at all. -Therefore I cannot say where I went, but I passed -through many cities. I knew only that it was laid -upon me to go south. When the horses could -march no more, I threw myself upon the earth, -and waited till the day. There was no sleep with -me in that journeying; and that was a heavy burden. -Dost thou know, brother of mine, the evil of -wakefulness that cannot break—when the bones -are sore for lack of sleep, and the skin of the temples -twitches with weariness, and yet—there is no -sleep—there is no sleep? <em>Dray wara yow dee! -Dray wara yow dee!</em> The eye of the Sun, the eye -<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>of the Moon, and my own unrestful eyes—all -three are one—all three are one!</p> - -<p class='c001'>There was a city the name whereof I have forgotten, -and there the Voice called all night. That -was ten days ago. It has cheated me afresh.</p> - -<p class='c001'>I have come hither from a place called Hamirpur, -and, behold, it is my Fate that I should meet -with thee to my comfort and the increase of friendship. -This is a good omen. By the joy of looking -upon thy face the weariness has gone from my -feet, and the sorrow of my so long travel is forgotten. -Also my heart is peaceful; for I know -that the end is near.</p> - -<p class='c001'>It may be that I shall find Daoud Shah in this -city going northward, since a Hillman will ever -head back to his Hills when the spring warns. -And shall he see those hills of our country? -Surely I shall overtake him! Surely my vengeance -is safe! Surely God hath him in the hollow -of His hand against my claiming. There -shall no harm befall Daoud Shah till I come; for -I would fain kill him quick and whole with the -life sticking firm in his body. A pomegranate is -sweetest when the cloves break away unwilling -from the rind. Let it be in the daytime, that I -may see his face, and my delight may be crowned.</p> - -<p class='c001'>And when I have accomplished the matter and -my Honour is made clean, I shall return thanks -unto God, the Holder of the Scale of the Law, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>and I shall sleep. From the night, through the -day, and into the night again I shall sleep; and -no dream shall trouble me.</p> - -<p class='c001'>And now, O my brother, the tale is all told. -<em>Ahi! Ahi! Alghias! Ahi!</em></p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span> - <h2 class='c004'>NAMGAY DOOLA</h2> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c015'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>There came to the beach a poor exile of Erin,</div> - <div class='line in2'>The dew on his wet robe hung heavy and chill;</div> - <div class='line'>Ere the steamer that brought him had passed out of hearin’,</div> - <div class='line in2'>He was Alderman Mike inthrojuicin’ a bill!</div> - <div class='line in34'><cite>American Song.</cite></div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_4_0_4 c016'>Once upon a time there was a King who lived on -the road to Thibet, very many miles in the Himalayas. -His Kingdom was eleven thousand feet -above the sea and exactly four miles square; but -most of the miles stood on end owing to the nature -of the country. His revenues were rather less -than four hundred pounds yearly, and they were -expended in the maintenance of one elephant and -a standing army of five men. He was tributary -to the Indian Government, who allowed him certain -sums for keeping a section of the Himalaya-Thibet -road in repair. He further increased his -revenues by selling timber to the railway-companies; -for he would cut the great deodar trees in -his one forest, and they fell thundering into the -Sutlej river and were swept down to the plains -three hundred miles away and became railway-ties. -Now and again this King, whose name does -<span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>not matter, would mount a ringstraked horse and -ride scores of miles to Simla-town to confer with -the Lieutenant-Governor on matters of state, or to -assure the Viceroy that his sword was at the service -of the Queen-Empress. Then the Viceroy -would cause a ruffle of drums to be sounded, and -the ringstraked horse and the cavalry of the State—two -men in tatters—and the herald who bore -the silver stick before the King would trot back -to their own place, which lay between the tail -of a heaven-climbing glacier and a dark birch-forest.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Now, from such a King, always remembering -that he possessed one veritable elephant, and could -count his descent for twelve hundred years, I expected, -when it was my fate to wander through his -dominions, no more than mere license to live.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The night had closed in rain, and rolling clouds -blotted out the lights of the villages in the valley. -Forty miles away, untouched by cloud or storm, -the white shoulder of Donga Pa—the Mountain -of the Council of the Gods—upheld the Evening -Star. The monkeys sang sorrowfully to each other -as they hunted for dry roosts in the fern-wreathed -trees, and the last puff of the day-wind brought -from the unseen villages the scent of damp wood-smoke, -hot cakes, dripping undergrowth, and rotting -pine-cones. That is the true smell of the -Himalayas, and if once it creeps into the blood of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>a man, that man will at the last, forgetting all else, -return to the hills to die. The clouds closed and -the smell went away, and there remained nothing -in all the world except chilling white mist and the -boom of the Sutlej river racing through the valley -below. A fat-tailed sheep, who did not want to -die, bleated piteously at my tent door. He was -scuffling with the Prime Minister and the Director-General -of Public Education, and he was a -royal gift to me and my camp servants. I expressed -my thanks suitably, and asked if I might -have audience of the King. The Prime Minister -readjusted his turban, which had fallen off in the -struggle, and assured me that the King would be -very pleased to see me. Therefore I despatched -two bottles as a foretaste, and when the sheep had -entered upon another incarnation went to the -King’s Palace through the wet. He had sent his -army to escort me, but the army stayed to talk -with my cook. Soldiers are very much alike all -the world over.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The Palace was a four-roomed and whitewashed -mud and timber house, the finest in all the hills -for a day’s journey. The King was dressed in a -purple velvet jacket, white muslin trousers, and a -saffron-yellow turban of price. He gave me audience -in a little carpeted room opening off the -palace courtyard which was occupied by the Elephant -of State. The great beast was sheeted and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>anchored from trunk to tail, and the curve of his -back stood out grandly against the mist.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The Prime Minister and the Director-General -of Public Education were present to introduce -me, but all the court had been dismissed, lest the -two bottles aforesaid should corrupt their morals. -The King cast a wreath of heavy-scented flowers -round my neck as I bowed, and inquired how my -honoured presence had the felicity to be. I said -that through seeing his auspicious countenance the -mists of the night had turned into sunshine, and -that by reason of his beneficent sheep his good -deeds would be remembered by the Gods. He -said that since I had set my magnificent foot in -his Kingdom the crops would probably yield seventy -per cent. more than the average. I said that -the fame of the King had reached to the four corners -of the earth, and that the nations gnashed their -teeth when they heard daily of the glories of his -realm and the wisdom of his moon-like Prime Minister -and lotus-like Director-General of Public -Education.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Then we sat down on clean white cushions, and -I was at the King’s right hand. Three minutes -later he was telling me that the state of the maize -crop was something disgraceful, and that the railway-companies -would not pay him enough for his -timber. The talk shifted to and fro with the bottles, -and we discussed very many stately things, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>and the King became confidential on the subject -of Government generally. Most of all he dwelt -on the shortcomings of one of his subjects, who, -from all I could gather, had been paralyzing the -executive.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“In the old days,” said the King, “I could -have ordered the Elephant yonder to trample him -to death. Now I must e’en send him seventy -miles across the hills to be tried, and his keep -would be upon the State. The Elephant eats -everything.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“What be the man’s crimes, Rajah Sahib?” -said I.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Firstly, he is an outlander and no man of mine -own people. Secondly, since of my favour I gave -him land upon his first coming, he refuses to pay -revenue. Am I not the lord of the earth, above -and below, entitled by right and custom to one-eighth -of the crop? Yet this devil, establishing -himself, refuses to pay a single tax; and he brings -a poisonous spawn of babes.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Cast him into jail,” I said.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Sahib,” the King answered, shifting a little on -the cushions, “once and only once in these forty -years sickness came upon me so that I was not able -to go abroad. In that hour I made a vow to my -God that I would never again cut man or woman -from the light of the sun and the air of God; for I -perceived the nature of the punishment. How -<span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>can I break my vow? Were it only the lopping -of a hand or a foot I should not delay. But even -that is impossible now that the English have rule. -One or another of my people”—he looked obliquely -at the Director-General of Public Education—“would -at once write a letter to the Viceroy, -and perhaps I should be deprived of my ruffle of -drums.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>He unscrewed the mouthpiece of his silver water-pipe, -fitted a plain amber mouthpiece, and passed -his pipe to me. “Not content with refusing revenue,” -he continued, “this outlander refuses also -the <em>begar</em>” (this was the corvée or forced labour -on the roads), “and stirs my people up to the like -treason. Yet he is, when he wills, an expert log-snatcher. -There is none better or bolder among -my people to clear a block of the river when the -logs stick fast.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But he worships strange Gods,” said the Prime -Minister deferentially.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“For that I have no concern,” said the King, -who was as tolerant as Akbar in matters of belief. -“To each man his own God and the fire or Mother -Earth for us all at last. It is the rebellion that -offends me.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“The King has an army,” I suggested. “Has -not the King burned the man’s house and left him -naked to the night dews?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Nay, a hut is a hut, and it holds the life of a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>man. But once I sent my army against him when -his excuses became wearisome: of their heads he -brake three across the top with a stick. The other -two men ran away. Also the guns would not -shoot.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>I had seen the equipment of the infantry. One-third -of it was an old muzzle-loading fowling-piece, -with a ragged rust-hole where the nipples -should have been, one-third a wire-bound matchlock -with a worm-eaten stock, and one-third a -four-bore flint duck-gun without a flint.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But it is to be remembered,” said the King, -reaching out for the bottle, “that he is a very expert -log-snatcher and a man of a merry face. What -shall I do to him, Sahib?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>This was interesting. The timid hill-folk would -as soon have refused taxes to their King as revenues -to their Gods.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“If it be the King’s permission,” I said, “I will -not strike my tents till the third day, and I will see -this man. The mercy of the King is God-like, -and rebellion is like unto the sin of witchcraft. -Moreover, both the bottles and another be empty.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“You have my leave to go,” said the King.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Next morning a crier went through the State -proclaiming that there was a log-jam on the river, -and that it behoved all loyal subjects to remove it. -The people poured down from their villages to -the moist warm valley of poppy-fields; and the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>King and I went with them. Hundreds of dressed -deodar-logs had caught on a snag of rock, and the -river was bringing down more logs every minute -to complete the blockade. The water snarled and -wrenched and worried at the timber, and the population -of the State began prodding the nearest logs -with a pole in the hope of starting a general movement. -Then there went up a shout of “Namgay -Doola! Namgay Doola!” and a large red-haired -villager hurried up, stripping off his clothes as -he ran.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“That is he. That is the rebel,” said the King. -“Now will the dam be cleared.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But why has he red hair?” I asked, since -red hair among hill-folks is as common as blue -or green.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“He is an outlander,” said the King. “Well -done! Oh, well done!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Namgay Doola had scrambled out on the jam -and was clawing out the butt of a log with a rude -sort of boat-hook. It slid forward slowly as an -alligator moves, three or four others followed it, -and the green water spouted through the gaps -they had made. Then the villagers howled and -shouted and scrambled across the logs, pulling -and pushing the obstinate timber, and the red -head of Namgay Doola was chief among them -all. The logs swayed and chafed and groaned as -fresh consignments from up-stream battered the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>new weakening dam. All gave way at last in a -smother of foam, racing logs, bobbing black heads -and confusion indescribable. The river tossed -everything before it. I saw the red head go down -with the last remnants of the jam and disappear between -the great grinding tree-trunks. It rose close -to the bank and blowing like a grampus. Namgay -Doola wrung the water out of his eyes and made -obeisance to the King. I had time to observe him -closely. The virulent redness of his shock head -and beard was most startling; and in the thicket -of hair wrinkled above high cheek-bones shone -two very merry blue eyes. He was indeed an -outlander, but yet a Thibetan in language, habit, -and attire. He spoke the Lepcha dialect with an -indescribable softening of the gutturals. It was -not so much a lisp as an accent.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Whence comest thou?” I asked.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“From Thibet.” He pointed across the hills -and grinned. That grin went straight to my -heart. Mechanically I held out my hand and -Namgay Doola shook it. No pure Thibetan -would have understood the meaning of the gesture. -He went away to look for his clothes, and -as he climbed back to his village I heard a joyous -yell that seemed unaccountably familiar. It was -the whooping of Namgay Doola.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“You see now,” said the King, “why I would -not kill him. He is a bold man among my logs, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>but,” and he shook his head like a schoolmaster, -“I know that before long there will be complaints -of him in the court. Let us return to the Palace -and do justice.” It was that King’s custom to -judge his subjects every day between eleven and -three o’clock. I saw him decide equitably in -weighty matters of trespass, slander, and a little -wife-stealing. Then his brow clouded and he -summoned me.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Again it is Namgay Doola,” he said despairingly. -“Not content with refusing revenue on -his own part, he has bound half his village by an -oath to the like treason. Never before has such -a thing befallen me! Nor are my taxes heavy.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>A rabbit-faced villager, with a blush-rose stuck -behind his ear, advanced trembling. He had -been in the conspiracy, but had told everything -and hoped for the King’s favour.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“O King,” said I. “If it be the King’s will -let this matter stand over till the morning. Only -the Gods can do right swiftly, and it may be that -yonder villager has lied.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Nay, for I know the nature of Namgay Doola; -but since a guest asks let the matter remain. Wilt -thou speak harshly to this red-headed outlander? -He may listen to thee.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>I made an attempt that very evening, but for -the life of me I could not keep my countenance. -Namgay Doola grinned persuasively, and began -<span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>to tell me about a big brown bear in a poppy-field -by the river. Would I care to shoot it? I spoke -austerely on the sin of conspiracy, and the certainty -of punishment. Namgay Doola’s face -clouded for a moment. Shortly afterwards he -withdrew from my tent, and I heard him singing -to himself softly among the pines. The words -were unintelligible to me, but the tune, like his -liquid insinuating speech, seemed the ghost of -something strangely familiar.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c017'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Dir hané mard-i-yemen dir</div> - <div class='line'>To weeree ala gee,”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'>sang Namgay Doola again and again, and I racked -my brain for that lost tune. It was not till after -dinner that I discovered some one had cut a -square foot of velvet from the centre of my best -camera-cloth. This made me so angry that I -wandered down the valley in the hope of meeting -the big brown bear. I could hear him grunting -like a discontented pig in the poppy-field, and I -waited shoulder deep in the dew-dripping Indian -corn to catch him after his meal. The moon was -at full and drew out the rich scent of the tasselled -crop. Then I heard the anguished bellow of a -Himalayan cow, one of the little black crummies -no bigger than Newfoundland dogs. Two shadows -that looked like a bear and her cub hurried -past me. I was in act to fire when I saw that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>they had each a brilliant red head. The lesser -animal was trailing some rope behind it that left -a dark track on the path. They passed within -six feet of me, and the shadow of the moonlight -lay velvet-black on their faces. Velvet-black was -exactly the word, for by all the powers of moonlight -they were masked in the velvet of my camera-cloth! -I marvelled and went to bed.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Next morning the Kingdom was in uproar. -Namgay Doola, men said, had gone forth in the -night and with a sharp knife had cut off the tail -of a cow belonging to the rabbit-faced villager -who had betrayed him. It was sacrilege unspeakable -against the Holy Cow. The State desired -his blood, but he had retreated into his hut, barricaded -the doors and windows with big stones, -and defied the world.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The King and I and the populace approached -the hut cautiously. There was no hope of capturing -the man without loss of life, for from a hole -in the wall projected the muzzle of an extremely -well-cared-for gun—the only gun in the State that -could shoot. Namgay Doola had narrowly missed -a villager just before we came up. The Standing -Army stood. It could do no more, for when it -advanced pieces of sharp shale flew from the -windows. To these were added from time to -time showers of scalding water. We saw red -heads bobbing up and down in the hut. The -<span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>family of Namgay Doola were aiding their sire, -and blood-curdling yells of defiance were the only -answers to our prayers.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Never,” said the King, puffing, “has such a -thing befallen my State. Next year I will certainly -buy a little cannon.” He looked at me -imploringly.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Is there any priest in the Kingdom to whom -he will listen?” said I, for a light was beginning -to break upon me.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“He worships his own God,” said the Prime -Minister. “We can starve him out.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Let the white man approach,” said Namgay -Doola from within. “All others I will kill. Send -me the white man.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The door was thrown open and I entered the -smoky interior of a Thibetan hut crammed with -children. And every child had flaming red hair. -A raw cow’s tail lay on the floor, and by its side -two pieces of black velvet—my black velvet—rudely -hacked into the semblance of masks.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“And what is this shame, Namgay Doola?” said I.</p> - -<p class='c001'>He grinned more winningly than ever. “There -is no shame,” said he. “I did but cut off the tail -of that man’s cow. He betrayed me. I was -minded to shoot him, Sahib. But not to death. -Indeed not to death. Only in the legs.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“And why at all, since it is the custom to pay -revenue to the King? Why at all?”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>“By the God of my father I cannot tell,” said -Namgay Doola.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“And who was thy father?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“The same that had this gun.” He showed -me his weapon—a Tower musket bearing date -1832 and the stamp of the Honourable East India -Company.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“And thy father’s name?” said I.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Timlay Doola,” said he. “At the first, I being -then a little child, it is in my mind that he -wore a red coat.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Of that I have no doubt. But repeat the -name of thy father thrice or four times.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>He obeyed, and I understood whence the -puzzling accent in his speech came. “Thimla -Dhula,” said he excitedly. “To this hour I worship -his God.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“May I see that God?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“In a little while—at twilight time.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Rememberest thou aught of thy father’s -speech?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It is long ago. But there is one word which -he said often. Thus, ‘<em>Shun</em>.’ Then I and my -brethren stood upon our feet, our hands to our -sides. Thus.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Even so. And what was thy mother?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“A woman of the hills. We be Lepchas of -Darjeeling, but me they call an outlander because -my hair is as thou seest.”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>The Thibetan woman, his wife, touched him on -the arm gently. The long parley outside the fort -had lasted far into the day. It was now close -upon twilight—the hour of the Angelus. Very -solemnly, the red-headed brats rose from the floor -and formed a semicircle. Namgay Doola laid his -gun against the wall, lighted a little oil lamp, and -set it before a recess in the wall. Pulling aside a -curtain of dirty cloth, he revealed a worn brass -crucifix leaning against the helmet-badge of a -long-forgotten East India regiment. “Thus did -my father,” he said, crossing himself clumsily. -The wife and children followed suit. Then all -together they struck up the wailing chant that I -heard on the hillside—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c017'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Dir hané mard-i-yemen dir</div> - <div class='line'>To weeree ala gee.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c019'>I was puzzled no longer. Again and again they -crooned, as if their hearts would break, their version -of the chorus of the “Wearing of the Green”—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c017'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>They’re hanging men and women too,</div> - <div class='line'>For the wearing of the green.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c019'>A diabolical inspiration came to me. One of the -brats, a boy about eight years old, was watching -me as he sang. I pulled out a rupee, held the -coin between finger and thumb, and looked—only -<span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>looked—at the gun against the wall. A grin of -brilliant and perfect comprehension overspread the -face of the child. Never for an instant stopping -the song, he held out his hand for the money, and -then slid the gun to my hand. I might have shot -Namgay Doola as he chanted. But I was satisfied. -The blood-instinct of the race held true. Namgay -Doola drew the curtain across the recess. Angelus -was over.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Thus my father sang. There is much more, -but I have forgotten, and I do not know the purport -of these words, but it may be that the God -will understand. I am not of this people, and I -will not pay revenue.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“And why?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Again that soul-compelling grin. “What occupation -would be to me between crop and crop? -It is better than scaring bears. But these people -do not understand.” He picked the masks from the -floor, and looked in my face as simply as a child.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“By what road didst thou attain knowledge to -make these devilries?” I said, pointing.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I cannot tell. I am but a Lepcha of Darjeeling, -and yet the stuff——”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Which thou hast stolen.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Nay, surely. Did I steal? I desired it so. -The stuff—the stuff—what else should I have -done with the stuff?” He twisted the velvet between -his fingers.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>“But the sin of maiming the cow—consider -that.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“That is true; but oh, Sahib, that man betrayed -me, and I had no thought—but the heifer’s tail -waved in the moonlight and I had my knife. -What else should I have done? The tail came -off ere I was aware. Sahib, thou knowest more -than I.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“That is true,” said I. “Stay within the door. -I go to speak to the King.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The population of the State were ranged on the -hillsides. I went forth and spoke to the King.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“O King,” said I. “Touching this man there -be two courses open to thy wisdom. Thou canst -either hang him from a tree, he and his brood, till -there remains no hair that is red within the land.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Nay,” said the King. “Why should I hurt -the little children?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>They had poured out of the hut door and were -making plump obeisance to everybody. Namgay -Doola waited with his gun across his arm.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Or thou canst, discarding the impiety of the -cow-maiming, raise him to honour in thy Army. -He comes of a race that will not pay revenue. A -red flame is in his blood which comes out at the -top of his head in that glowing hair. Make him -chief of the Army. Give him honour as may befall, -and full allowance of work, but look to it, O -King, that neither he nor his hold a foot of earth -<span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>from thee henceforward. Feed him with words -and favour, and also liquor from certain bottles -that thou knowest of, and he will be a bulwark of -defence. But deny him even a tuft of grass for -his own. This is the nature that God has given -him. Moreover, he has brethren——”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The State groaned unanimously.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But if his brethren come, they will surely fight -with each other till they die; or else the one will -always give information concerning the other. -Shall he be of thy Army, O King? Choose.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The King bowed his head, and I said, “Come -forth, Namgay Doola, and command the King’s -Army. Thy name shall no more be Namgay in -the mouths of men, but Patsay Doola, for as thou -hast said, I know.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Then Namgay. Doola, new christened Patsay -Doola, son of Timlay Doola, which is Tim Doolan -gone very wrong indeed, clasped the King’s feet, -cuffed the Standing Army, and hurried in an agony -of contrition from temple to temple, making offerings -for the sin of cattle-maiming.</p> - -<p class='c001'>And the King was so pleased with my perspicacity -that he offered to sell me a village for twenty -pounds sterling. But I buy no villages in the -Himalayas so long as one red head flares between -the tail of the heaven-climbing glacier and the -dark birch-forest.</p> - -<p class='c001'>I know that breed.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span> - <h2 class='c004'>“THE CITY OF DREADFUL NIGHT”</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='small'>Copyright, 1891, by Macmillan & Co.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c005'>The dense wet heat that hung over the face of -land, like a blanket, prevented all hope of sleep in -the first instance. The cicalas helped the heat; -and the yelling jackals the cicalas. It was impossible -to sit still in the dark, empty, echoing house -and watch the punkah beat the dead air. So, at -ten o’clock of the night, I set my walking-stick on -end in the middle of the garden, and waited to see -how it would fall. It pointed directly down the -moonlit road that leads to the City of Dreadful -Night. The sound of its fall disturbed a hare. -She limped from her form and ran across to a disused -Mahomedan burial-ground, where the jawless -skulls and rough-butted shank-bones, heartlessly -exposed by the July rains, glimmered like -mother o’ pearl on the rain-channelled soil. The -heated air and the heavy earth had driven the very -dead upward for coolness’ sake. The hare limped -on; snuffed curiously at a fragment of a smoke-stained -lamp-shard, and died out in the shadow of -a clump of tamarisk trees.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The mat-weaver’s hut under the lee of the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>Hindu temple was full of sleeping men who lay -like sheeted corpses. Overhead blazed the unwinking -eye of the Moon. Darkness gives at least -a false impression of coolness. It was hard not -to believe that the flood of light from above was -warm. Not so hot as the Sun, but still sickly -warm, and heating the heavy air beyond what was -our due. Straight as a bar of polished steel ran -the road to the City of Dreadful Night; and on -either side of the road lay corpses disposed on beds -in fantastic attitudes—one hundred and seventy -bodies of men. Some shrouded all in white with -bound-up mouths; some naked and black as ebony -in the strong light; and one—that lay face upwards -with dropped jaw, far away from the others—silvery -white and ashen gray.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“A leper asleep; and the remainder wearied -coolies, servants, small shopkeepers, and drivers -from the hack-stand hard by. The scene—a main -approach to Lahore city, and the night a warm one -in August.” This was all that there was to be -seen; but by no means all that one could see. -The witchery of the moonlight was everywhere; -and the world was horribly changed. The long -line of the naked dead, flanked by the rigid silver -statue, was not pleasant to look upon. It was -made up of men alone. Were the womenkind, -then, forced to sleep in the shelter of the stifling -mud-huts as best they might? The fretful wail -<span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>of a child from a low mud-roof answered the question. -Where the children are the mothers must -be also to look after them. They need care on -these sweltering nights. A black little bullet-head -peeped over the coping, and a thin—a painfully -thin—brown leg was slid over on to the -gutter pipe. There was a sharp clink of glass -bracelets; a woman’s arm showed for an instant -above the parapet, twined itself round the lean -little neck, and the child was dragged back, protesting, -to the shelter of the bedstead. His thin, -high-pitched shriek died out in the thick air almost -as soon as it was raised; for even the children of -the soil found it too hot to weep.</p> - -<p class='c001'>More corpses; more stretches of moonlit, white -road; a string of sleeping camels at rest by the -wayside; a vision of scudding jackals; <em>ekka</em>-ponies -asleep—the harness still on their backs, -and the brass-studded country carts, winking in -the moonlight—and again more corpses. <a id='corr37.20'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Whereever'>wherever</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_37.20'><ins class='correction' title='Whereever'>wherever</ins></a></span> -a grain cart atilt, a tree trunk, a sawn log, a -couple of bamboos and a few handfuls of thatch -cast a shadow, the ground is covered with them. -They lie—some face downwards, arms folded, in -the dust; some with clasped hands flung up above -their heads; some curled up dog-wise; some thrown -like limp gunny-bags over the side of the grain-carts; -and some bowed with their brows on their -knees in the full glare of the Moon. It would be -<span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>a comfort if they were only given to snoring; but -they are not, and the likeness to corpses is unbroken -in all respects save one. The lean dogs -snuff at them and turn away. Here and there a -tiny child lies on his father’s bedstead, and a protecting -arm is thrown round it in every instance. -But, for the most part, the children sleep with their -mothers on the housetops. Yellow-skinned, white-toothed -pariahs are not to be trusted within reach -of brown bodies.</p> - -<p class='c001'>A stifling hot blast from the mouth of the Delhi -Gate nearly ends my resolution of entering the -City of Dreadful Night at this hour. It is a compound -of all evil savours, animal and vegetable, -that a walled city can brew in a day and a night. -The temperature within the motionless groves of -plantain and orange-trees outside the city walls -seems chilly by comparison. Heaven help all sick -persons and young children within the city to-night! -The high house-walls are still radiating -heat savagely, and from obscure side gullies fetid -breezes eddy that ought to poison a buffalo. But -the buffaloes do not heed. A drove of them are -parading the vacant main street; stopping now -and then to lay their ponderous muzzles against -the closed shutters of a grain-dealer’s shop, and to -blow thereon like grampuses.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Then silence follows—the silence that is full of -the night noises of a great city. A stringed instrument -<span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>of some kind is just, and only just, audible. -High overhead some one throws open a window, -and the rattle of the wood-work echoes down the -empty street. On one of the roofs a hookah is in -full blast; and the men are talking softly as the -pipe gutters. A little farther on, the noise of conversation -is more distinct. A slit of light shows -itself between the sliding shutters of a shop. Inside, -a stubble-bearded, weary-eyed trader is balancing -his account-books among the bales of cotton -prints that surround him. Three sheeted figures -bear him company, and throw in a remark from -time to time. First he makes an entry, then a remark; -then passes the back of his hand across his -streaming forehead. The heat in the built-in -street is fearful. Inside the shops it must be almost -unendurable. But the work goes on steadily; -entry, guttural growl, and uplifted hand-stroke succeeding -each other with the precision of clockwork.</p> - -<p class='c001'>A policeman—turbanless and fast asleep—lies -across the road on the way to the Mosque of -Wazir Khan. A bar of moonlight falls across -the forehead and eyes of the sleeper, but he never -stirs. It is close upon midnight, and the heat -seems to be increasing. The open square in front -of the Mosque is crowded with corpses; and a -man must pick his way carefully for fear of treading -on them. The moonlight stripes the Mosque’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>high front of coloured enamel work in broad diagonal -bands; and each separate dreaming pigeon in -the niches and corners of the masonry throws a -squab little shadow. Sheeted ghosts rise up -wearily from their pallets, and flit into the dark -depths of the building. Is it possible to climb to -the top of the great Minars, and thence to look -down on the city? At all events, the attempt is -worth making, and the chances are that the door of -the staircase will be unlocked. Unlocked it is; but -a deeply-sleeping janitor lies across the threshold, -face turned to the Moon. A rat dashes out of his -turban at the sound of approaching footsteps. -The man grunts, opens his eyes for a minute, turns -round and goes to sleep again. All the heat of a -decade of fierce Indian summers is stored in the -pitch-black, polished walls of the corkscrew staircase. -Half-way up, there is something alive, warm, -and feathery; and it snores. Driven from step to -step as it catches the sound of my advance, it flutters -to the top and reveals itself as a yellow-eyed, -angry kite. Dozens of kites are asleep on this and -the other Minars, and on the domes below. There -is the shadow of a cool, or at least a less sultry -breeze at this height; and, refreshed thereby, turn -to look on the City of Dreadful Night.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Doré might have drawn it! Zola could describe -it—this spectacle of sleeping thousands in -the moonlight and in the shadow of the Moon. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>The roof-tops are crammed with men, women, and -children; and the air is full of undistinguishable -noises. They are restless in the City of Dreadful -Night; and small wonder. The marvel is that -they can even breathe. If you gaze intently at -the multitude, you can see that they are almost as -uneasy as a daylight crowd; but the tumult is subdued. -Everywhere, in the strong light, you can -watch the sleepers turning to and fro; shifting -their beds and again resettling them. In the pit-like -courtyards of the houses there is the same -movement.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The pitiless Moon shows it all. Shows, too, -the plains outside the city, and here and there a -hand’s-breadth of the Ravee without the walls. -Shows lastly a splash of glittering silver on a -house-top almost directly below the mosque Minar. -Some poor soul has risen to throw a jar of -water over his fevered body; the tinkle of the -falling water strikes faintly on the ear. Two or -three other men, in far-off corners of the City of -Dreadful Night, follow his example, and the water -flashes like heliographic signals. A small cloud -passes over the face of the Moon, and the city and -its inhabitants—clear drawn in black and white -before—fade into masses of black and deeper -black. Still the unrestful noise continues, the -sigh of a great city overwhelmed with the heat, -and of a people seeking in vain for rest. It is -<span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>only the lower-class women who sleep on the -housetops. What must the torment be in the -latticed zenanas, where a few lamps are still -twinkling? There are footfalls in the court below. -It is the <em>Muezzin</em>—faithful minister; but -he ought to have been here an hour ago to tell -the Faithful that prayer is better than sleep—the -sleep that will not come to the city.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The <em>Muezzin</em> fumbles for a moment with the -door of one of the Minars, disappears awhile, and -a bull-like roar—a magnificent bass thunder—tells -that he has reached the top of the Minar. -They must hear the cry to the banks of the -shrunken Ravee itself! Even across the courtyard -it is almost overpowering. The cloud drifts -by and shows him outlined in black against the -sky, hands laid upon his ears, and broad chest heaving -with the play of his lungs—“Allah ho Akbar”; -then a pause while another <em>Muezzin</em> somewhere -in the direction of the Golden Temple -takes up the call—“Allah ho Akbar.” Again -and again; four times in all; and from the bedsteads -a dozen men have risen up already.—“I -bear witness that there is no God but God.” -What a splendid cry it is, the proclamation of the -creed that brings men out of their beds by scores -at midnight! Once again he thunders through -the same phrase, shaking with the vehemence of -his own voice; and then, far and near, the night -<span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>air rings with “Mahomed is the Prophet of God.” -It is as though he were flinging his defiance to the -far-off horizon, where the summer lightning plays -and leaps like a bared sword. Every <em>Muezzin</em> in -the city is in full cry, and some men on the roof-tops -are beginning to kneel. A long pause precedes -the last cry, “La ilaha Illallah,” and the silence -closes up on it, as the ram on the head of -a cotton-bale.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The <em>Muezzin</em> stumbles down the dark stairway -grumbling in his beard. He passes the arch of -the entrance and disappears. Then the stifling -silence settles down over the City of Dreadful -Night. The kites on the Minar sleep again, snoring -more loudly, the hot breeze comes up in puffs -and lazy eddies, and the Moon slides down towards -the horizon. Seated with both elbows on the -parapet of the tower, one can watch and wonder -over that heat-tortured hive till the dawn. “How -do they live down there? What do they think -of? When will they awake?” More tinkling -of sluiced water-pots; faint jarring of wooden bedsteads -moved into or out of the shadows; uncouth -music of stringed instruments softened by distance -into a plaintive wail, and one low grumble of far-off -thunder. In the courtyard of the mosque the -janitor, who lay across the threshold of the Minar -when I came up, starts wildly in his sleep, throws -his hands above his head, mutters something, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>falls back again. Lulled by the snoring of the -kites—they snore like over-gorged humans—I -drop off into an uneasy doze, conscious that three -o’clock has struck, and that there is a slight—a -very slight—coolness in the atmosphere. The -city is absolutely quiet now, but for some vagrant -dog’s love-song. Nothing save dead heavy sleep.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Several weeks of darkness pass after this. For -the Moon has gone out. The very dogs are still, -and I watch for the first light of the dawn before -making my way homeward. Again the noise of -shuffling feet. The morning call is about to begin, -and my night watch is over. “Allah ho Akbar! -Allah ho Akbar!” The east grows gray, and -presently saffron; the dawn wind comes up as -though the <em>Muezzin</em> had summoned it; and, as -one man, the City of Dreadful Night rises from -its bed and turns its face towards the dawning -day. With return of life comes return of sound. -First a low whisper, then a deep bass hum; for -it must be remembered that the entire city is -on the housetops. My eyelids weighed down with -the arrears of long deferred sleep, I escape from -the Minar through the courtyard and out into the -square beyond, where the sleepers have risen, -stowed away the bedsteads, and are discussing the -morning hookah. The minute’s freshness of the -air has gone, and it is as hot as at first.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Will the Sahib, out of his kindness, make -<span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>room?” What is it? Something borne on men’s -shoulders comes by in the half-light, and I stand -back. A woman’s corpse going down to the -burning-ghat, and a bystander says, “She died at -midnight from the heat.” So the city was of -Death as well as Night, after all.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span> - <h2 class='c004'>THE JUDGMENT OF DUNGARA</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>See the pale martyr with his shirt on fire.—<cite>Printer’s Error.</cite></p> - -<p class='c005'>They tell the tale even now among the groves -of the Berbulda Hill, and for corroboration point -to the roofless and windowless Mission-house. -The great God Dungara, the God of Things as -They Are, Most Terrible, One-eyed, Bearing the -Red Elephant Tusk, did it all; and he who refuses -to believe in Dungara will assuredly be smitten -by the Madness of Yat—the madness that -fell upon the sons and the daughters of the Buria -Kol when they turned aside from Dungara and -put on clothes. So says Athon Dazé, who is -High Priest of the shrine and Warden of the -Red Elephant Tusk. But if you ask the Assistant -Collector and Agent in Charge of the Buria -Kol, he will laugh—not because he bears any -malice against missions, but because he himself -saw the vengeance of Dungara executed upon the -spiritual children of the Reverend Justus Krenk, -Pastor of the Tubingen Mission, and upon Lotta, -his virtuous wife.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Yet if ever a man merited good treatment of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>the Gods it was the Reverend Justus, one time -of Heidelberg, who, on the faith of a call, went -into the wilderness and took the blonde, blue-eyed -Lotta with him. “We will these Heathen now -by idolatrous practices so darkened better make,” -said Justus in the early days of his career. “Yes,” -he added with conviction, “they shall be good -and shall with their hands to work learn. For -all good Christians must work.” And upon a -stipend more modest even than that of an English -lay-reader, Justus Krenk kept house beyond Kamala -and the gorge of Malair, beyond the Berbulda -River close to the foot of the blue hill of -Panth on whose summit stands the Temple of -Dungara—in the heart of the country of the -Buria Kol—the naked, good-tempered, timid, -shameless, lazy Buria Kol.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Do you know what life at a Mission outpost -means? Try to imagine a loneliness exceeding -that of the smallest station to which Government -has ever sent you—isolation that weighs upon -the waking eyelids and drives you by force headlong -into the labours of the day. There is no post, -there is no one of your own colour to speak to, -there are no roads: there is, indeed, food to keep -you alive, but it is not pleasant to eat; and whatever -of good or beauty or interest there is in your -life, must come from yourself and the grace that -may be planted in you.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>In the morning, with a patter of soft feet, the -converts, the doubtful, and the open scoffers, troop -up to the verandah. You must be infinitely kind -and patient, and, above all, clear-sighted, for you -deal with the simplicity of childhood, the experience -of man, and the subtlety of the savage. Your -congregation have a hundred material wants to be -considered; and it is for you, as you believe in -your personal responsibility to your Maker, to pick -out of the clamouring crowd any grain of spirituality -that may lie therein. If to the cure of souls -you add that of bodies, your task will be all the -more difficult, for the sick and the maimed will -profess any and every creed for the sake of healing, -and will laugh at you because you are simple -enough to believe them.</p> - -<p class='c001'>As the day wears and the impetus of the morning -dies away, there will come upon you an overwhelming -sense of the uselessness of your toil. -This must be striven against, and the only spur in -your side will be the belief that you are playing -against the Devil for the living soul. It is a great, -a joyous belief; but he who can hold it unwavering -for four and twenty consecutive hours, must -be blessed with an abundantly strong physique and -equable nerve.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Ask the gray heads of the Bannockburn Medical -Crusade what manner of life their preachers -lead; speak to the Racine Gospel Agency, those -<span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>lean Americans whose boast is that they go where -no Englishman dare follow; get a Pastor of the -Tubingen Mission to talk of his experiences—if -you can. You will be referred to the printed reports, -but these contain no mention of the men -who have lost youth and health, all that a man -may lose except faith, in the wilds; of English -maidens who have gone forth and died in the fever-stricken -jungle of the Panth Hills, knowing from -the first that death was almost a certainty. Few -Pastors will tell you of these things any more than -they will speak of that young David of St. Bees, -who, set apart for the Lord’s work, broke down in -the utter desolation, and returned half distraught -to the Head Mission, crying: “There is no God, -but I have walked with the Devil!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The reports are silent here, because heroism, -failure, doubt, despair, and self-abnegation on the -part of a mere cultured white man are things of -no weight as compared to the saving of one half-human -soul from a fantastic faith in wood-spirits, -goblins of the rock, and river-fiends.</p> - -<p class='c001'>And Gallio, the Assistant Collector of the -country-side “cared for none of these things.” -He had been long in the district, and the Buria -Kol loved him and brought him offerings of -speared fish, orchids from the dim moist heart of -the forests, and as much game as he could eat. -In return, he gave them quinine, and with Athon -<span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>Dazé, the High Priest, controlled their simple -policies.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“When you have been some years in the -country,” said Gallio at the Krenks’ table, “you -grow to find one creed as good as another. I’ll -give you all the assistance in my power, of course, -but don’t hurt my Buria Kol. They are a good -people and they trust me.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I will them the Word of the Lord teach,” -said Justus, his round face beaming with enthusiasm, -“and I will assuredly to their prejudices no -wrong hastily without thinking make. But, O my -friend, this in the mind impartiality-of-creed-judgment-be-looking -is very bad.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Heigh-ho!” said Gallio, “I have their bodies -and the district to see to, but you can try what -you can do for their souls. Only don’t behave as -your predecessor did, or I’m afraid that I can’t -guarantee your life.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“And that?” said Lotta sturdily, handing him -a cup of tea.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“He went up to the Temple of Dungara—to -be sure, he was new to the country—and began -hammering old Dungara over the head with an -umbrella; so the Buria Kol turned out and hammered -<em>him</em> rather savagely. I was in the district, -and he sent a runner to me with a note saying: -‘Persecuted for the Lord’s sake. Send wing of -regiment.’ The nearest troops were about two -<span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>hundred miles off, but I guessed what he had been -doing. I rode to Panth and talked to old Athon -Dazé like a father, telling him that a man of his -wisdom ought to have known that the Sahib had -sunstroke and was mad. You never saw a people -more sorry in your life. Athon Dazé apologised, -sent wood and milk and fowls and all sorts of -things; and I gave five rupees to the shrine, and -told Macnamara that he had been injudicious. -He said that I had bowed down in the House of -Rimmon; but if he had only just gone over the -brow of the hill and insulted Palin Deo, the idol -of the Suria Kol, he would have been impaled on -a charred bamboo long before I could have done -anything, and then I should have had to have -hanged some of the poor brutes. Be gentle with -them, Padri—but I don’t think you’ll do much.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Not I,” said Justus, “but my Master. We -will with the little children begin. Many of them -will be sick—that is so. After the children the -mothers; and then the men. But I would greatly -that you were in internal sympathies with us prefer.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Gallio departed to risk his life in mending the -rotten bamboo bridges of his people, in killing a -too persistent tiger here or there, in sleeping out -in the reeking jungle, or in tracking the Suria Kol -raiders who had taken a few heads from their -brethren of the Buria clan. He was a knock-kneed, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>shambling young man, naturally devoid of -creed or reverence, with a longing for absolute -power which his undesirable district gratified.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“No one wants my post,” he used to say grimly, -“and my Collector only pokes his nose in when -he’s quite certain that there is no fever. I’m monarch -of all I survey, and Athon Dazé is my viceroy.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Because Gallio prided himself on his supreme -disregard of human life—though he never extended -the theory beyond his own—he naturally -rode forty miles to the Mission with a tiny brown -girl-baby on his saddle-bow.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Here is something for you, Padri,” said he. -“The Kols leave their surplus children to die. -’Don’t see why they shouldn’t, but you may rear -this one. I picked it up beyond the Berbulda -fork. I’ve a notion that the mother has been following -me through the woods ever since.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It is the first of the fold,” said Justus, and Lotta -caught up the screaming morsel to her bosom and -hushed it craftily; while, as a wolf hangs in the -field, Matui, who had borne it and in accordance -with the law of her tribe had exposed it to die, -panted weary and footsore in the bamboo-brake, -watching the house with hungry mother-eyes. -What would the omnipotent Assistant Collector -do? Would the little man in the black coat eat -her daughter alive, as Athon Dazé said was the -custom of all men in black coats?</p> -<div id='i052' class='figcenter id005'> -<img src='images/i_052f.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic002'> -<p>THE JUDGMENT OF DUNGARA</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>Matui waited among the bamboos through the -long night; and, in the morning, there came forth -a fair white woman, the like of whom Matui had -never seen, and in her arms was Matui’s daughter -clad in spotless raiment. Lotta knew little of the -tongue of the Buria Kol, but when mother calls -to mother, speech is easy to follow. By the hands -stretched timidly to the hem of her gown, by the -passionate gutturals and the longing eyes, Lotta -understood with whom she had to deal. So Matui -took her child again—would be a servant, even a -slave, to this wonderful white woman, for her own -tribe would recognise her no more. And Lotta -wept with her exhaustively, after the German -fashion, which includes much blowing of the nose.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“First the child, then the mother, and last the -man, and to the Glory of God all,” said Justus the -Hopeful. And the man came, with a bow and -arrows, very angry indeed, for there was no one to -cook for him.</p> - -<p class='c001'>But the tale of the Mission is a long one, and I -have no space to show how Justus, forgetful of his -injudicious predecessor, grievously smote Moto, -the husband of Matui, for his brutality; how Moto -was startled, but being released from the fear of instant -death, took heart and became the faithful ally -and first convert of Justus; how the little gathering -grew, to the huge disgust of Athon Dazé; how the -Priest of the God of Things as They Are argued -<span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>subtilely with the Priest of the God of Things as -They Should Be, and was worsted; how the dues -of the Temple of Dungara fell away in fowls and -fish and honeycomb, how Lotta lightened the -Curse of Eve among the women, and how Justus -did his best to introduce the Curse of Adam; how -the Buria Kol rebelled at this, saying that their -God was an idle God, and how Justus partially -overcame their scruples against work, and taught -them that the black earth was rich in other produce -than pig-nuts only.</p> - -<p class='c001'>All these things belong to the history of many -months, and throughout those months the white-haired -Athon Dazé meditated revenge for the tribal -neglect of Dungara. With savage cunning he -feigned friendship towards Justus, even hinting at -his own conversion; but to the congregation of -Dungara he said darkly: “They of the Padri’s -flock have put on clothes and worship a busy God. -Therefore Dungara will afflict them grievously till -they throw themselves, howling, into the waters -of the Berbulda.” At night the Red Elephant -Tusk boomed and groaned among the hills, and -the faithful waked and said: “The God of Things -as They Are matures revenge against the back-sliders. -Be merciful, Dungara, to us Thy children, -and give us all their crops!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Late in the cold weather, the Collector and his -wife came into the Buria Kol country. “Go and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>look at Krenk’s Mission,” said Gallio. “He is -doing good work in his own way, and I think he’d -be pleased if you opened the bamboo chapel that -he has managed to run up. At any rate, you’ll see -a civilised Buria Kol.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Great was the stir in the Mission. “Now he -and the gracious lady will that we have done good -work with their own eyes see, and—yes—we will -him our converts in all their new clothes by their -own hands constructed exhibit. It will a great day -be—for the Lord always,” said Justus; and Lotta -said, “Amen.” Justus had, in his quiet way, felt -jealous of the Basel Weaving Mission, his own -converts being unhandy; but Athon Dazé had -latterly induced some of them to hackle the glossy -silky fibres of a plant that grew plenteously on the -Panth Hills. It yielded a cloth white and smooth -almost as the <em>tappa</em> of the South Seas, and that day -the converts were to wear for the first time clothes -made therefrom. Justus was proud of his work. -“They shall in white clothes clothed to meet the -Collector and his well-born lady come down, singing -‘Now thank we all our God.’ Then he will the -Chapel open, and—yes—even Gallio to believe -will begin. Stand so, my children, two by two, -and—Lotta, why do they thus themselves bescratch? -It is not seemly to wriggle, Nala, my -child. The Collector will be here and be pained.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The Collector, his wife, and Gallio climbed the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>hill to the Mission-station. The converts were -drawn up in two lines, a shining band nearly forty -strong. “Hah!” said the Collector, whose acquisitive -bent of mind led him to believe that he had -fostered the institution from the first. “Advancing, -I see, by leaps and bounds.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Never was truer word spoken! The Mission -<em>was</em> advancing exactly as he had said—at first by -little hops and shuffles of shamefaced uneasiness, -but soon by the leaps of fly-stung horses and the -bounds of maddened kangaroos. From the hill -of Panth the Red Elephant Tusk delivered a dry -and anguished blare. The ranks of the converts -wavered, broke and scattered with yells and shrieks -of pain, while Justus and Lotta stood horror-stricken.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It is the Judgment of Dungara!” shouted a -voice. “I burn! I burn! To the river or we -die!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The mob wheeled and headed for the rocks that -overhung the Berbulda, writhing, stamping, twisting, -and shedding its garments as it ran, pursued -by the thunder of the trumpet of Dungara. Justus -and Lotta fled to the Collector almost in tears.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I cannot understand! Yesterday,” panted -Justus, “they had the Ten Commandments. What -is this? Praise the Lord all good spirits by land -and by sea. Nala! Oh, shame!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>With a bound and a scream there alighted on the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>rocks above their heads, Nala, once the pride of -the Mission, a maiden of fourteen summers, good, -docile, and virtuous—now naked as the dawn and -spitting like a wild-cat.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Was it for this!” she raved, hurling her petticoat -at Justus, “was it for this I left my people -and Dungara—for the fires of your Bad Place? -Blind ape, little earthworm, dried fish that you -are, you said that I should never burn! O Dungara, -I burn now! I burn now! Have mercy, -God of Things as They Are!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>She turned and flung herself into the Berbulda, -and the trumpet of Dungara bellowed jubilantly. -The last of the converts of the Tubingen Mission -had put a quarter of a mile of rapid river between -herself and her teachers.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Yesterday,” gulped Justus, “she taught in -the school A, B, C, D.—Oh! It is the work of -Satan!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>But Gallio was curiously regarding the maiden’s -petticoat where it had fallen at his feet. He -felt its texture, drew back his shirt-sleeve beyond -the deep tan of his wrist and pressed a fold of the -cloth against the flesh. A blotch of angry red -rose on the white skin.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Ah!” said Gallio calmly, “I thought so.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“What is it?” said Justus.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I should call it the Shirt of Nessus, but—Where -did you get the fibre of this cloth from?”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>“Athon Dazé,” said Justus. “He showed the -boys how it should manufactured be.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“The old fox! Do you know that he has given -you the Nilgiri Nettle—scorpion—<em>Girardenia -heterophylla</em>—to work up? No wonder they -squirmed! Why, it stings even when they make -bridge-ropes of it, unless it’s soaked for six weeks. -The cunning brute! It would take about half -an hour to burn through their thick hides, and -then——!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Gallio burst into laughter, but Lotta was weeping -in the arms of the Collector’s wife, and Justus -had covered his face with his hands.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“<em>Girardenia heterophylla!</em>” repeated Gallio. -“Krenk, why <em>didn’t</em> you tell me? I could have -saved you this. Woven fire! Anybody but a -naked Kol would have known it, and, if I’m a -judge of their ways, you’ll never get them back.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>He looked across the river to where the converts -were still wallowing and wailing in the shallows, -and the laughter died out of his eyes, for he -saw that the Tubingen Mission to the Buria Kol -was dead.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Never again, though they hung mournfully -round the deserted school for three months, could -Lotta or Justus coax back even the most promising -of their flock. No! The end of conversion -was the fire of the Bad Place—fire that ran -through the limbs and gnawed into the bones. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>Who dare a second time tempt the anger of Dungara? -Let the little man and his wife go elsewhere. -The Buria Kol would have none of them. -An unofficial message to Athon Dazé that if a -hair of their heads were touched, Athon Dazé and -the priests of Dungara would be hanged by Gallio -at the temple shrine, protected Justus and Lotta -from the stumpy poisoned arrows of the Buria -Kol, but neither fish nor fowl, honeycomb, salt -nor young pig were brought to their doors any -more. And, alas! man cannot live by grace alone -if meat be wanting.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Let us go, mine wife,” said Justus; “there is -no good here, and the Lord has willed that some -other man shall the work take—in good time—in -His own good time. We will go away, and -I will—yes—some botany bestudy.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>If any one is anxious to convert the Buria Kol -afresh, there lies at least the core of a mission-house -under the hill of Panth. But the chapel -and school have long since fallen back into jungle.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span> - <h2 class='c004'>THE FINANCES OF THE GODS</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='small'>Copyright, 1891, by Macmillan & Co.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c005'>The evening meal was ended in Dhunni Bhagat’s -Chubara, and the old priests were smoking or -counting their beads. A little naked child pattered -in, with its mouth wide open, a handful of marigold -flowers in one hand, and a lump of conserved -tobacco in the other. It tried to kneel and make -obeisance to Gobind, but it was so fat that it fell -forward on its shaven head, and rolled on its side, -kicking and gasping, while the marigolds tumbled -one way and the tobacco the other. Gobind -laughed, set it up again, and blessed the marigold -flowers as he received the tobacco.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“From my father,” said the child. “He has -the fever, and cannot come. Wilt thou pray for -him, father?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Surely, littlest; but the smoke is on the ground, -and the night-chill is in the air, and it is not good -to go abroad naked in the autumn.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I have no clothes,” said the child, “and all to-day -I have been carrying cow-dung cakes to the -bazar. It was very hot, and I am very tired.” It -shivered a little, for the twilight was cool.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Gobind lifted an arm under his vast tattered quilt -<span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>of many colours, and made an inviting little nest -by his side. The child crept in, and Gobind filled -his brass-studded leather water-pipe with the new -tobacco. When I came to the Chubara the shaven -head with the tuft atop and the beady black eyes -looked out of the folds of the quilt as a squirrel -looks out from his nest, and Gobind was smiling -while the child played with his beard.</p> - -<p class='c001'>I would have said something friendly, but remembered -in time that if the child fell ill afterwards -I should be credited with the Evil Eye, and -that is a horrible possession.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Sit thou still, Thumbling,” I said as it made -to get up and run away. “Where is thy slate, -and why has the teacher let such an evil character -loose on the streets when there are no police to -protect us weaklings? In which ward dost thou -try to break thy neck with flying kites from the -house-tops?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Nay, Sahib, nay,” said the child, burrowing -its face into Gobind’s beard, and twisting uneasily. -“There was a holiday to-day among the schools, -and I do not always fly kites. I play ker-li-kit -like the rest.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Cricket is the national game among the school-boys -of the Punjab, from the naked hedge-school -children, who use an old kerosene-tin for wicket, -to the B. A.’s of the University, who compete for -the Championship belt.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>“Thou play kerlikit! Thou art half the height -of the bat!” I said.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The child nodded resolutely. “Yea, I <em>do</em> play. -<em>Perlay-ball.</em> <em>Ow-at!</em> <em>Ran, ran, ran!</em> I know it -all.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But thou must not forget with all this to pray -to the Gods according to custom,” said Gobind, -who did not altogether approve of cricket and -western innovations.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I do not forget,” said the child in a hushed -voice.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Also to give reverence to thy teacher, and”—Gobind’s -voice softened—“to abstain from pulling -holy men by the beard, little badling. Eh, eh, eh?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The child’s face was altogether hidden in the -great white beard, and it began to whimper till -Gobind soothed it as children are soothed all the -world over, with the promise of a story.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I did not think to frighten thee, senseless little -one. Look up! Am I angry? Aré, aré, aré! -Shall I weep too, and of our tears make a great -pond and drown us both, and then thy father will -never get well, lacking thee to pull his beard? -Peace, peace, and I will tell thee of the Gods. -Thou hast heard many tales?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Very many, father.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Now, this is a new one which thou hast not -heard. Long and long ago when the Gods walked -<span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>with men as they do to-day, but that we have not -faith to see, Shiv, the greatest of Gods, and Parbati, -his wife, were walking in the garden of a -temple.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Which temple? That in the Nandgaon -ward?” said the child.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Nay, very far away. Maybe at Trimbak or -Hurdwar, whither thou must make pilgrimage -when thou art a man. Now, there was sitting in -the garden under the jujube trees a mendicant that -had worshipped Shiv for forty years, and he lived -on the offerings of the pious, and meditated holiness -night and day.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Oh, father, was it thou?” said the child, looking -up with large eyes.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Nay, I have said it was long ago, and, moreover, -this mendicant was married.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Did they put him on a horse with flowers on -his head, and forbid him to go to sleep all night -long? Thus they did to me when they made my -wedding,” said the child, who had been married a -few months before.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“And what didst thou do?” said I.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I wept, and they called me evil names, and -then I smote <em>her</em>, and we wept together.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Thus did not the mendicant,” said Gobind; -“for he was a holy man, and very poor. Parbati -perceived him sitting naked by the temple steps -where all went up and down, and she said to Shiv, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>‘What shall men think of the Gods when the -Gods thus scorn their worshippers? For forty -years yonder man has prayed to us, and yet there -be only a few grains of rice and some broken -cowries before him, after all. Men’s hearts will be -hardened by this thing.’ And Shiv said, ‘It shall -be looked to,’ and so he called to the temple which -was the temple of his son, Ganesh of the elephant -head, saying, ‘Son, there is a mendicant without -who is very poor. What wilt thou do for him?’ -Then that great elephant-headed One awoke in the -dark and answered, ‘In three days, if it be thy -will, he shall have one lakh of rupees.’ Then -Shiv and Parbati went away.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But there was a money-lender in the garden -hidden among the marigolds”—the child looked -at the ball of crumpled blossoms in its hands—“ay, -among the yellow marigolds, and he heard -the Gods talking. He was a covetous man, and -of a black heart, and he desired that lakh of rupees -for himself. So he went to the mendicant and -said, ‘O brother, how much do the pious give -thee daily?’ The mendicant said, ‘I cannot tell. -Sometimes a little rice, sometimes a little pulse, -and a few cowries, and, it has been, pickled mangoes -and dried fish.’”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“That is good,” said the child, smacking its -lips.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Then said the money-lender, ‘Because I have -<span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>long watched thee, and learned to love thee and -thy patience, I will give thee now five rupees -for all thy earnings of the three days to come. -There is only a bond to sign on the matter.’ But -the mendicant said, ‘Thou art mad. In two -months I do not receive the worth of five rupees,’ -and he told the thing to his wife that evening. -She, being a woman, said, ‘When did money-lender -ever make a bad bargain? The wolf runs -through the corn for the sake of the fat deer. -Our fate is in the hands of the Gods. Pledge it -not even for three days.’</p> - -<p class='c001'>“So the mendicant returned to the money-lender, -and would not sell. Then that wicked -man sat all day before him, offering more and -more for those three days’ earnings. First, ten, -fifty, and a hundred rupees; and then, for he did -not know when the Gods would pour down their -gifts, rupees by the thousand, till he had offered -half a lakh of rupees. Upon this sum the mendicant’s -wife shifted her counsel, and the mendicant -signed the bond, and the money was paid in silver; -great white bullocks bringing it by the cart-load. -But saving only all that money, the mendicant -received nothing from the Gods at all, and -the heart of the money-lender was uneasy on account -of expectation. Therefore at noon of the -third day the money-lender went into the temple -to spy upon the councils of the Gods, and to learn -<span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>in what manner that gift might arrive. Even as -he was making his prayers, a crack between the -stones of the floor gaped, and, closing, caught him -by the heel. Then he heard the Gods walking in -the temple in the darkness of the columns, and -Shiv called to his son Ganesh, saying, ‘Son, what -hast thou done in regard to the lakh of rupees -for the mendicant?’ And Ganesh woke, for the -money-lender heard the dry rustle of his trunk -uncoiling, and he answered, ‘Father, one half of -the money has been paid, and the debtor for -the other half I hold here fast by the heel.’”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The child bubbled with laughter. “And the -money-lender paid the mendicant?” it said.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Surely, for he whom the Gods hold by the -heel must pay to the uttermost. The money was -paid at evening, all silver, in great carts, and thus -Ganesh did his work.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Nathu! Oh[=e], Nathu!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>A woman was calling in the dusk by the door -of the courtyard.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The child began to wriggle. “That is my -mother,” it said.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Go then, littlest,” answered Gobind; “but -stay a moment.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>He ripped a generous yard from his patchwork-quilt, -put it over the child’s shoulders, and the -child ran away.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span> - <h2 class='c004'>AT HOWLI THANA</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>His own shoe, his own head.—<cite>Native Proverb.</cite></p> - -<p class='c005'>As a messenger, if the heart of the Presence be -moved to so great favour. And on six rupees. -Yes, Sahib, for I have three little little children -whose stomachs are always empty, and corn is -now but forty pounds to the rupee. I will make -so clever a messenger that you shall all day long -be pleased with me, and, at the end of the year, -bestow a turban. I know all the roads of the Station -and many other things. Aha, Sahib! I am -clever. Give me service. I was aforetime in the -Police. A bad character? Now without doubt an -enemy has told this tale. Never was I a scamp. I -am a man of clean heart, and all my words are true. -They knew this when I was in the Police. They -said: “Afzal Khan is a true speaker in whose words -men may trust.” I am a Delhi Pathan, Sahib—all -Delhi Pathans are good men. You have seen -Delhi? Yes, it is true that there be many scamps -among the Delhi Pathans. How wise is the Sahib! -Nothing is hid from his eyes, and he will -make me his messenger, and I will take all his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>notes secretly and without ostentation. Nay, Sahib, -God is my witness that I meant no evil. I -have long desired to serve under a true Sahib—a -virtuous Sahib. Many young Sahibs are as devils -unchained. With these Sahibs I would take no -service—not though all the stomachs of my little -children were crying for bread.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Why am I not still in the Police? I will speak -true talk. An evil came to the Thana—to Ram -Baksh, the Havildar, and Maula Baksh, and Juggut -Ram and Bhim Singh and Suruj Bul. Ram -Baksh is in the jail for a space, and so also is -Maula Baksh.</p> - -<p class='c001'>It was at the Thana of Howli, on the road -that leads to Gokral-Seetarun, wherein are many -dacoits. We were all brave men—Rustums. -Wherefore we were sent to that Thana, which was -eight miles from the next Thana. All day and all -night we watched for dacoits. Why does the -Sahib laugh? Nay, I will make a confession. -The dacoits were too clever, and, seeing this, we -made no further trouble. It was in the hot weather. -What can a man do in the hot days? Is the Sahib -who is so strong—is he, even, vigorous in that -hour? We made an arrangement with the dacoits -for the sake of peace. That was the work -of the Havildar, who was fat. Ho! Ho! Sahib, -he is now getting thin in the jail among the carpets. -The Havildar said: “Give us no trouble, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>and we will give you no trouble. At the end of -the reaping send us a man to lead before the judge, -a man of infirm mind against whom the trumped-up -case will break down. Thus we shall save our -honour.” To this talk the dacoits agreed, and -we had no trouble at the Thana, and could eat -melons in peace, sitting upon our charpoys all -day long. Sweet as sugar-cane are the melons of -Howli.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Now there was an assistant commissioner—a -Stunt Sahib, in that district, called Yunkum Sahib. -Aha! He was hard—hard even as is the Sahib -who, without doubt, will give me the shadow of -his protection. Many eyes had Yunkum Sahib, -and moved quickly through his district. Men -called him The Tiger of Gokral-Seetarun, because -he would arrive unannounced and make his -kill, and, before sunset, would be giving trouble -to the Tehsildars thirty miles away. No one knew -the comings or the goings of Yunkum Sahib. He -had no camp, and when his horse was weary he -rode upon a devil-carriage. I do not know its -name, but the Sahib sat in the midst of three silver -wheels that made no creaking, and drave them -with his legs, prancing like a bean-fed horse—thus. -A shadow of a hawk upon the fields was -not more without noise than the devil-carriage of -Yunkum Sahib. It was here: it was there: it -was gone: and the rapport was made, and there -<span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>was trouble. Ask the Tehsildar of Rohestri how -the hen-stealing came to be known, Sahib.</p> - -<p class='c001'>It fell upon a night that we of the Thana slept -according to custom upon our charpoys, having -eaten the evening meal and drunk tobacco. When -we awoke in the morning, behold, of our six -rifles not one remained! Also, the big Police-book -that was in the Havildar’s charge was gone. -Seeing these things, we were very much afraid, -thinking on our parts that the dacoits, regardless -of honour, had come by night and put us to shame. -Then said Ram Baksh, the Havildar: “Be silent! -The business is an evil business, but it may yet -go well. Let us make the case complete. Bring -a kid and my tulwar. See you not <em>now</em>, O fools? -A kick for a horse, but a word is enough for a -man.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>We of the Thana, perceiving quickly what was -in the mind of the Havildar, and greatly fearing -that the service would be lost, made haste to take -the kid into the inner room, and attended to the -words of the Havildar. “Twenty dacoits came,” -said the Havildar, and we, taking his words, repeated -after him according to custom. “There -was a great fight,” said the Havildar, “and of us -no man escaped unhurt. The bars of the window -were broken. Suruj Bul, see thou to that; and, -O men, put speed into your work, for a runner -must go with the news to The Tiger of Gokral-Seetarun.” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>Thereon, Suruj Bul, leaning with his -shoulder, brake in the bars of the window, and I, -beating her with a whip, made the Havildar’s mare -skip among the melon-beds till they were much -trodden with hoof-prints.</p> - -<p class='c001'>These things being made, I returned to the -Thana, and the goat was slain, and certain portions -of the walls were blackened with fire, and -each man dipped his clothes a little into the blood -of the goat. Know, O Sahib, that a wound made -by man upon his own body can, by those skilled, -be easily discerned from a wound wrought by another -man. Therefore, the Havildar, taking his -tulwar, smote one of us lightly on the forearm in -the fat, and another on the leg, and a third on the -back of the hand. Thus dealt he with all of us -till the blood came; and Suruj Bul, more eager -than the others, took out much hair. O Sahib, -never was so perfect an arrangement. Yea, even -I would have sworn that the Thana had been -treated as we said. There was smoke and breaking -and blood and trampled earth.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Ride now, Maula Baksh,” said the Havildar, -“to the house of the Stunt Sahib, and carry the -news of the dacoity. Do you also, O Afzal Khan, -run there, and take heed that you are mired with -sweat and dust on your in-coming. The blood -will be dry on the clothes. I will stay and send -a straight report to the Dipty Sahib, and we will -<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>catch certain that ye know of, villagers, so that all -may be ready against the Dipty Sahib’s arrival.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Thus Maula Baksh rode and I ran hanging on -the stirrup, and together we came in an evil plight -before The Tiger of Gokral-Seetarun in the Rohestri -tehsil. Our tale was long and correct, Sahib, -for we gave even the names of the dacoits -and the issue of the fight, and besought him to -come. But The Tiger made no sign, and only -smiled after the manner of Sahibs when they have -a wickedness in their hearts. “Swear ye to the -rapport?” said he, and we said: “Thy servants -swear. The blood of the fight is but newly dry -upon us. Judge thou if it be the blood of the -servants of the Presence, or not.” And he said: -“I see. Ye have done well.” But he did not -call for his horse or his devil-carriage, and scour -the land as was his custom. He said: “Rest now -and eat bread, for ye be wearied men. I will wait -the coming of the Dipty Sahib.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Now it is the order that the Havildar of the -Thana should send a straight report of all dacoities -to the Dipty Sahib. At noon came he, a fat -man and an old, and overbearing withal, but we -of the Thana had no fear of his anger; dreading -more the silences of The Tiger of Gokral-Seetarun. -With him came Ram Baksh, the Havildar, -and the others, guarding ten men of the village -of Howli—all men evil affected towards the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>Police of the Sirkar. As prisoners they came, -the irons upon their hands, crying for mercy—Imam -Baksh, the farmer, who had denied his wife -to the Havildar, and others, ill-conditioned rascals -against whom we of the Thana bore spite. It -was well done, and the Havildar was proud. But -the Dipty Sahib was angry with the Stunt for lack -of zeal, and said “Dam-Dam” after the custom -of the English people, and extolled the Havildar. -Yunkum Sahib lay still in his long chair. “Have -the men sworn?” said Yunkum Sahib. “Aye, -and captured ten evildoers,” said the Dipty Sahib. -“There be more abroad in <em>your</em> charge. Take -horse—ride, and go in the name of the Sirkar!” -“Truly there be more evildoers abroad,” said -Yunkum Sahib, “but there is no need of a horse. -Come all men with me.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>I saw the mark of a string on the temples of -Imam Baksh. Does the Presence know the torture -of the Cold Draw? I saw also the face of -The Tiger of Gokral-Seetarun, the evil smile was -upon it, and I stood back ready for what might -befall. Well it was, Sahib, that I did this thing. -Yunkum Sahib unlocked the door of his bathroom, -and smiled anew. Within lay the six rifles -and the big Police-book of the Thana of Howli! -He had come by night in the devil-carriage that is -noiseless as a ghoul, and moving among us asleep, -had taken away both the guns and the book! -<span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>Twice had he come to the Thana, taking each -time three rifles. The liver of the Havildar was -turned to water, and he fell scrabbling in the dirt -about the boots of Yunkum Sahib, crying—“Have -mercy!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>And I? Sahib, I am a Delhi Pathan, and a -young man with little children. The Havildar’s -mare was in the compound. I ran to her and -rode: the black wrath of the Sirkar was behind -me, and I knew not whither to go. Till she -dropped and died I rode the red mare; and by -the blessing of God, who is without doubt on the -side of all just men, I escaped. But the Havildar -and the rest are now in jail.</p> - -<p class='c001'>I am a scamp? It is as the Presence pleases. -God will make the Presence a Lord, and give him -a rich <em>Memsahib</em> as fair as a Peri to wife, and many -strong sons, if he makes me his orderly. The -Mercy of Heaven be upon the Sahib! Yes, I will -only go to the bazar and bring my children to -these so-palace-like quarters, and then—the Presence -is my Father and my Mother, and I, Afzal -Khan, am his slave.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Ohe, <em>Sirdar-ji</em>! I also am of the household of -the Sahib.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span> - <h2 class='c004'>IN FLOOD TIME</h2> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c015'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Tweed said tae Till:</div> - <div class='line'>“What gars ye rin sae still?”</div> - <div class='line'>Till said tae Tweed:</div> - <div class='line'>“Though ye rin wi’ speed</div> - <div class='line'>An’ I rin slaw—</div> - <div class='line'>Yet where ye droon ae man</div> - <div class='line'>I droon twa.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c005'>There is no getting over the river to-night, Sahib. -They say that a bullock-cart has been washed down -already, and the <em>ekka</em> that went over a half hour -before you came has not yet reached the far side. -Is the Sahib in haste? I will drive the ford-elephant -in to show him. Ohe, mahout there in the -shed! Bring out Ram Pershad, and if he will face -the current, good. An elephant never lies, Sahib, -and Ram Pershad is separated from his friend Kala -Nag. He, too, wishes to cross to the far side. -Well done! Well done! my King! Go half -way across, <em>mahoutji</em>, and see what the river says. -Well done, Ram Pershad! Pearl among elephants, -go into the river! Hit him on the head, -fool! Was the goad made only to scratch thy -own fat back with, bastard? Strike! Strike! -<span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>What are the boulders to thee, Ram Pershad, -my Rustum, my mountain of strength? Go in! -Go in!</p> - -<p class='c001'>No, Sahib! It is useless. You can hear him -trumpet. He is telling Kala Nag that he cannot -come over. See! He has swung round and is -shaking his head. He is no fool. He knows -what the Barhwi means when it is angry. Aha! -Indeed, thou art no fool, my child! <em>Salaam</em>, Ram -Pershad, Bahadur! Take him under the trees, -mahout, and see that he gets his spices. Well -done, thou chiefest among tuskers! <em>Salaam</em> to -the Sirkar and go to sleep.</p> - -<p class='c001'>What is to be done? The Sahib must wait till -the river goes down. It will shrink to-morrow morning, -if God pleases, or the day after at the latest. -Now why does the Sahib get so angry? I am his -servant. Before God, <em>I</em> did not create this stream! -What can I do! My hut and all that is therein -is at the service of the Sahib, and it is beginning -to rain. Come away, my Lord. How will the -river go down for your throwing abuse at it? In -the old days the English people were not thus. -The fire-carriage has made them soft. In the old -days, when they drave behind horses by day or by -night, they said naught if a river barred the way, -or a carriage sat down in the mud. It was the -will of God—not like a fire-carriage which goes -and goes and goes, and would go though all the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>devils in the land hung on to its tail. The fire-carriage -hath spoiled the English people. After -all, what is a day lost, or, for that matter, what are -two days? Is the Sahib going to his own wedding, -that he is so mad with haste? Ho! Ho! -Ho! I am an old man and see few Sahibs. Forgive -me if I have forgotten the respect that is due -to them. The Sahib is not angry?</p> - -<p class='c001'>His own wedding! Ho! Ho! Ho! The -mind of an old man is like the <em>numah</em>-tree. Fruit, -bud, blossom, and the dead leaves of all the years -of the past flourish together. Old and new and -that which is gone out of remembrance, all three -are there! Sit on the bedstead, Sahib, and drink -milk. Or—would the Sahib in truth care to -drink my tobacco? It is good. It is the tobacco -of Nuklao. My son, who is in service there, sent -it to me. Drink, then, Sahib, if you know how to -handle the tube. The Sahib takes it like a Musalman. -Wah! Wah! Where did he learn that? -His own wedding! Ho! Ho! Ho! The Sahib -says that there is no wedding in the matter at all? -Now <em>is</em> it likely that the Sahib would speak true -talk to me who am only a black man? Small -wonder, then, that he is in haste. Thirty years -have I beaten the gong at this ford, but never have -I seen a Sahib in such haste. Thirty years, Sahib! -That is a very long time. Thirty years ago this -ford was on the track of the <em>bunjaras</em>, and I have -<span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>seen two thousand pack-bullocks cross in one <a id='corr78.1'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='night,'>night.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_78.1'><ins class='correction' title='night,'>night.</ins></a></span> -Now the rail has come, and the fire-carriage says -<em>buz-buz-buz</em>, and a hundred lakhs of maunds slide -across that big bridge. It is very wonderful; but -the ford is lonely now that there are no <em>bunjaras</em> to -camp under the trees.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Nay, do not trouble to look at the sky without. -It will rain till the dawn. Listen! The boulders -are talking to-night in the bed of the river. Hear -them! They would be husking your bones, -Sahib, had you tried to cross. See, I will shut the -door and no rain can enter. <em>Wahi!</em> <em>Ahi!</em> <em>Ugh!</em> -Thirty years on the banks of the ford! An old -man am I, and—where is the oil for the lamp?</p> - -<hr class='c014' /> - -<p class='c001'>Your pardon, but, because of my years, I sleep -no sounder than a dog; and you moved to the -door. Look then, Sahib. Look and listen. A -full half <em>kos</em> from bank to bank is the stream now—you -can see it under the stars—and there are -ten feet of water therein. It will not shrink because -of the anger in your eyes, and it will not be -quiet on account of your curses. Which is louder, -Sahib—your voice or the voice of the river? -Call to it—perhaps it will be ashamed. Lie -down and sleep afresh, Sahib. I know the anger -of the Barhwi when there has fallen rain in the -foot-hills. I swam the flood, once, on a night ten-fold -worse than this, and by the Favour of God I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>was released from death when I had come to the -very gates thereof.</p> - -<p class='c001'>May I tell the tale? Very good talk. I will -fill the pipe anew.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Thirty years ago it was, when I was a young -man and had but newly come to the ford. I was -strong then, and the <em>bunjaras</em> had no doubt when -I said, “This ford is clear.” I have toiled all night -up to my shoulder-blades in running water amid a -hundred bullocks mad with fear, and have brought -them across, losing not a hoof. When all was -done I fetched the shivering men, and they gave -me for reward the pick of their cattle—the bell-bullock -of the drove. So great was the honour in -which I was held! But to-day, when the rain falls -and the river rises, I creep into my hut and whimper -like a dog. My strength is gone from me. -I am an old man, and the fire-carriage has made -the ford desolate. They were wont to call me the -Strong One of the Barhwi.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Behold my face, Sahib—it is the face of a -monkey. And my arm—it is the arm of an old -woman. I swear to you, Sahib, that a woman has -loved this face and has rested in the hollow of this -arm. Twenty years ago, Sahib. Believe me, this -was true talk—twenty years ago.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Come to the door and look across. Can you -see a thin fire very far away down the stream? -That is the temple-fire in the shrine of Hanuman, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>of the village of Pateera. North, under the big -star, is the village itself, but it is hidden by a bend -of the river. Is that far to swim, Sahib? Would -you take off your clothes and adventure? Yet I -swam to Pateera—not once, but many times; and -there are <em>muggers</em> in the river too.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Love knows no caste; else why should I, a -Musalman and the son of a Musalman, have sought -a Hindu woman—a widow of the Hindus—the -sister of the headman of Pateera? But it was even -so. They of the headman’s household came on a -pilgrimage to Muttra when She was but newly a -bride. Silver tires were upon the wheels of the -bullock-cart, and silken curtains hid the woman. -Sahib, I made no haste in their conveyance, for the -wind parted the curtains and I saw Her. When -they returned from pilgrimage the boy that was -Her husband had died, and I saw Her again in -the bullock-cart. By God, these Hindus are fools! -What was it to me whether She was Hindu or -Jain—scavenger, leper, or whole? I would have -married Her and made Her a home by the ford. -The Seventh of the Nine Bars says that a man -may not marry one of the idolaters? Is that -truth? Both Shiahs and Sunnis say that a Musalman -may not marry one of the idolaters? Is the -Sahib a priest, then, that he knows so much? I -will tell him something that he does not know. -There is neither Shiah nor Sunni, forbidden nor -<span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>idolater, in Love; and the Nine Bars are but nine -little fagots that the flame of Love utterly burns -away. In truth, I would have taken Her; but -what could I do? The headman would have -sent his men to break my head with staves. I -am not—I was not—afraid of any five men; -but against half a village who can prevail?</p> - -<p class='c001'>Therefore it was my custom, these things having -been arranged between us twain, to go by -night to the village of Pateera, and there we met -among the crops; no man knowing aught of the -matter. Behold, now! I was wont to cross here, -skirting the jungle to the river bend where the -railway bridge is, and thence across the elbow of -land to Pateera. The light of the shrine was my -guide when the nights were dark. That jungle -near the river is very full of snakes—little <em>karaits</em> -that sleep on the sand—and moreover, Her -brothers would have slain me had they found me -in the crops. But none knew—none knew save -She and I; and the blown sand of the river-bed -covered the track of my feet. In the hot months -it was an easy thing to pass from the ford to Pateera, -and in the first Rains, when the river rose -slowly, it was an easy thing also. I set the -strength of my body against the strength of the -stream, and nightly I ate in my hut here and -drank at Pateera yonder. She had said that one -Hirnam Singh, a thief, had sought Her, and he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>was of a village up the river but on the same -bank. All Sikhs are dogs, and they have refused -in their folly that good gift of God—tobacco. I -was ready to destroy Hirnam Singh that ever he -had come nigh Her; and the more because he -had sworn to Her that She had a lover, and that -he would lie in wait and give the name to the -headman unless She went away with him. What -curs are these Sikhs!</p> - -<p class='c001'>After that news, I swam always with a little -sharp knife in my belt, and evil would it have -been for a man had he stayed me. I knew not -the face of Hirnam Singh, but I would have killed -any who came between me and Her.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Upon a night in the beginning of the Rains, I -was minded to go across to Pateera, albeit the -river was angry. Now the nature of the Barhwi -is this, Sahib. In twenty breaths it comes down -from the Hills, a wall three feet high, and I have -seen it, between the lighting of a fire and the -cooking of a <em>chupatty</em>, grow from a runnel to a -sister of the Jumna.</p> - -<p class='c001'>When I left this bank there was a shoal a half -mile down, and I made shift to fetch it and draw -breath there ere going forward; for I felt the -hands of the river heavy upon my heels. Yet -what will a young man not do for Love’s sake? -There was but little light from the stars, and midway -to the shoal a branch of the stinking deodar -<span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>tree brushed my mouth as I swam. That was a -sign of heavy rain in the foot-hills and beyond, -for the deodar is a strong tree, not easily shaken -from the hillsides. I made haste, the river aiding -me, but ere I had touched the shoal, the pulse of -the stream beat, as it were, within me and around, -and, behold, the shoal was gone and I rode high -on the crest of a wave that ran from bank to bank. -Has the Sahib ever been cast into much water -that fights and will not let a man use his limbs? -To me, my head upon the water, it seemed as -though there were naught but water to the world’s -end, and the river drave me with its driftwood. -A man is a very little thing in the belly of a -flood. And <em>this</em> flood, though I knew it not, was -the Great Flood about which men talk still. My -liver was dissolved and I lay like a log upon my -back in the fear of Death. There were living -things in the water, crying and howling grievously—beasts -of the forest and cattle, and once -the voice of a man asking for help. But the rain -came and lashed the water white, and I heard no -more save the roar of the boulders below and the -roar of the rain above. Thus I was whirled downstream, -wrestling for the breath in me. It is very -hard to die when one is young. Can the Sahib, -standing here, see the railway bridge? Look, -there are the lights of the mail-train going to Peshawur! -The bridge is now twenty feet above -<span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>the river, but upon that night the water was roaring -against the lattice-work and against the lattice -came I feet first. But much driftwood was piled -there and upon the piers, and I took no great -hurt. Only the river pressed me as a strong man -presses a weaker. Scarcely could I take hold of -the lattice-work and crawl to the upper boom. -Sahib, the water was foaming across the rails a -foot deep! Judge therefore what manner of flood -it must have been. I could not hear. I could not -see. I could but lie on the boom and pant for breath.</p> - -<p class='c001'>After a while the rain ceased and there came -out in the sky certain new washed stars, and by -their light I saw that there was no end to the -black water as far as the eye could travel, and -the water had risen upon the rails. There were -dead beasts in the driftwood on the piers, and -others caught by the neck in the lattice-work, and -others not yet drowned who strove to find a foothold -on the lattice-work—buffaloes and kine, and -wild pig, and deer one or two, and snakes and -jackals past all counting. Their bodies were -black upon the left side of the bridge, but the -smaller of them were forced through the lattice-work -and whirled down-stream.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Thereafter the stars died and the rain came -down afresh and the river rose yet more, and I -felt the bridge begin to stir under me as a man -stirs in his sleep ere he wakes. But I was not -<span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span>afraid, Sahib. I swear to you that I was not -afraid, though I had no power in my limbs. I -knew that I should not die till I had seen Her -once more. But I was very cold, and I felt that -the bridge must go.</p> - -<p class='c001'>There was a trembling in the water, such a -trembling as goes before the coming of a great -wave, and the bridge lifted its flank to the rush of -that coming so that the right lattice dipped under -water and the left rose clear. On my beard, -Sahib, I am speaking God’s truth! As a Mirzapore -stone-boat careens to the wind, so the Barhwi -Bridge turned. Thus and in no other manner.</p> - -<p class='c001'>I slid from the boom into deep water, and behind -me came the wave of the wrath of the river. I -heard its voice and the scream of the middle part -of the bridge as it moved from the piers and sank, -and I knew no more till I rose in the middle of -the great flood. I put forth my hand to swim, -and lo! it fell upon the knotted hair of the head -of a man. He was dead, for no one but I, the -Strong One of Barhwi, could have lived in that -race. He had been dead full two days, for he rode -high, wallowing, and was an aid to me. I laughed -then, knowing for a surety that I should yet see -Her and take no harm; and I twisted my fingers -in the hair of the man, for I was far spent, and -together we went down the stream—he the dead -and I the living. Lacking that help I should -<span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>have sunk: the cold was in my marrow, and my -flesh was ribbed and sodden on my bones. But -<em>he</em> had no fear who had known the uttermost of -the power of the river; and I let him go where -he chose. At last we came into the power of a -side-current that set to the right bank, and I strove -with my feet to draw with it. But the dead man -swung heavily in the whirl, and I feared that -some branch had struck him and that he would -sink. The tops of the tamarisk brushed my knees, -so I knew we were come into flood-water above -the crops, and, after, I let down my legs and felt -bottom—the ridge of a field—and, after, the -dead man stayed upon a knoll under a fig-tree, -and I drew my body from the water rejoicing.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Does the Sahib know whither the backwash of -the flood had borne me? To the knoll which is -the eastern boundary-mark of the village of Pateera! -No other place. I drew the dead man up -on the grass for the service that he had done me, -and also because I knew not whether I should need -him again. Then I went, crying thrice like a -jackal, to the appointed place which was near the -byre of the headman’s house. But my Love was -already there, weeping. She feared that the flood -had swept my hut at the Barhwi Ford. When I -came softly through the ankle-deep water, She -thought it was a ghost and would have fled, but I -put my arms round Her, and—I was no ghost in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>those days, though I am an old man now. Ho! -Ho! Dried corn, in truth. Maize without juice. -Ho! Ho!<a id='r1' /><a href='#f1' class='c020'><sup>[1]</sup></a></p> - -<div class='footnote' id='f1'> -<p class='c001'><a href='#r1'>1</a>. I grieve to say that the Warden of Barhwi Ford is responsible here -for two very bad puns in the vernacular.—<cite>R. K.</cite></p> -</div> - -<p class='c001'>I told Her the story of the breaking of the Barhwi -Bridge, and She said that I was greater than mortal -man, for none may cross the Barhwi in full flood, -and I had seen what never man had seen before. -Hand in hand we went to the knoll where the -dead lay, and I showed Her by what help I had -made the ford. She looked also upon the body -under the stars, for the latter end of the night was -clear, and hid Her face in Her hands, crying: “It -is the body of Hirnam Singh!” I said: “The -swine is of more use dead than living, my Beloved,” -and She said: “Surely, for he has saved the -dearest life in the world to my love. None the -less, he cannot stay here, for that would bring -shame upon me.” The body was not a gunshot -from Her door.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Then said I, rolling the body with my hands: -“God hath judged between us, Hirnam Singh, -that thy blood might not be upon my head. -Now, whether I have done thee a wrong in keeping -thee from the burning-ghat, do thou and the -crows settle together.” So I cast him adrift into -the flood-water, and he was drawn out to the open, -ever wagging his thick black beard like a priest -<span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>under the pulpit-board. And I saw no more of -Hirnam Singh.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Before the breaking of the day we two parted, -and I moved towards such of the jungle as was -not flooded. With the full light I saw what I -had done in the darkness, and the bones of my -body were loosened in my flesh, for there ran two -<em>kos</em> of raging water between the village of Pateera -and the trees of the far bank, and, in the middle, -the piers of the Barhwi Bridge showed like broken -teeth in the jaw of an old man. Nor was there -any life upon the waters—neither birds nor boats, -but only an army of drowned things—bullocks -and horses and men—and the river was redder -than blood from the clay of the foot-hills. Never -had I seen such a flood—never since that year -have I seen the like—and, O Sahib, no man living -had done what I had done. There was no -return for me that day. Not for all the lands of -the headman would I venture a second time without -the shield of darkness that cloaks danger. I -went a <em>kos</em> up the river to the house of a blacksmith, -saying that the flood had swept me from -my hut, and they gave me food. Seven days I -stayed with the blacksmith, till a boat came and -I returned to my house. There was no trace of -wall, or roof, or floor—naught but a patch of slimy -mud. Judge, therefore, Sahib, how far the river -must have risen.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>It was written that I should not die either in my -house, or in the heart of the Barhwi, or under the -wreck of the Barhwi Bridge, for God sent down -Hirnam Singh two days dead, though I know not -how the man died, to be my buoy and support. -Hirnam Singh has been in Hell these twenty -years, and the thought of that night must be -the flower of his torment.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Listen, Sahib! The river has changed its voice. -It is going to sleep before the dawn, to which there -is yet one hour. With the light it will come down -afresh. How do I know? Have I been here thirty -years without knowing the voice of the river as a -father knows the voice of his son? Every moment -it is talking less angrily. I swear that there -will be no danger for one hour or, perhaps, two. -I cannot answer for the morning. Be quick, Sahib! -I will call Ram Pershad, and he will not -turn back this time. Is the paulin tightly corded -upon all the baggage? Ohe, mahout with a mud -head, the elephant for the Sahib, and tell them on -the far side that there will be no crossing after -daylight.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Money? Nay, Sahib. I am not of that kind. -No, not even to give sweetmeats to the baby-folk. -My house, look you, is empty, and I am an old -man.</p> - -<p class='c001'><em>Dutt</em>, Ram Pershad! <em>Dutt! Dutt! Dutt!</em> -Good luck go with you, Sahib.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span> - <h2 class='c004'>MOTI GUJ—MUTINEER</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c005'>Once upon a time there was a coffee-planter in -India who wished to clear some forest land for -coffee-planting. When he had cut down all the -trees and burned the under-wood the stumps still -remained. Dynamite is expensive and slow-fire -slow. The happy medium for stump-clearing is -the lord of all beasts, who is the elephant. He -will either push the stump out of the ground with -his tusks, if he has any, or drag it out with ropes. -The planter, therefore, hired elephants by ones and -twos and threes, and fell to work. The very best -of all the elephants belonged to the very worst of -all the drivers or mahouts; and the superior beast’s -name was Moti Guj. He was the absolute property -of his mahout, which would never have been the -case under native rule, for Moti Guj was a creature -to be desired by kings; and his name, being translated, -meant the Pearl Elephant. Because the -British Government was in the land, Deesa, the -mahout, enjoyed his property undisturbed. He -was dissipated. When he had made much money -through the strength of his elephant, he would get -extremely drunk and give Moti Guj a beating -<span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>with a tent-peg over the tender nails of the forefeet. -Moti Guj never trampled the life out of Deesa on -these occasions, for he knew that after the beating -was over Deesa would embrace his trunk and -weep and call him his love and his life and the -liver of his soul, and give him some liquor. Moti -Guj was very fond of liquor—arrack for choice, -though he would drink palm-tree toddy if nothing -better offered. Then Deesa would go to sleep between -Moti Guj’s forefeet, and as Deesa generally -chose the middle of the public road, and as Moti -Guj mounted guard over him and would not permit -horse, foot, or cart to pass by, traffic was congested -till Deesa saw fit to wake up.</p> - -<p class='c001'>There was no sleeping in the daytime on the -planter’s clearing: the wages were too high to risk. -Deesa sat on Moti Guj’s neck and gave him orders, -while Moti Guj rooted up the stumps—for -he owned a magnificent pair of tusks; or pulled at -the end of a rope—for he had a magnificent pair -of shoulders, while Deesa kicked him behind the -ears and said he was the king of elephants. At -evening time Moti Guj would wash down his three -hundred pounds’ weight of green food with a quart -of arrack, and Deesa would take a share and sing -songs between Moti Guj’s legs till it was time to -go to bed. Once a week Deesa led Moti Guj -down to the river, and Moti Guj lay on his side -luxuriously in the shallows, while Deesa went over -<span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>him with a coir-swab and a brick. Moti Guj -never mistook the pounding blow of the latter for -the smack of the former that warned him to get -up and turn over on the other side. Then Deesa -would look at his feet, and examine his eyes, and -turn up the fringes of his mighty ears in case of -sores or budding ophthalmia. After inspection, -the two would “come up with a song from the -sea,” Moti Guj all black and shining, waving a -torn tree branch twelve feet long in his trunk, and -Deesa knotting up his own long wet hair.</p> - -<p class='c001'>It was a peaceful, well-paid life till Deesa felt -the return of the desire to drink deep. He wished -for an orgie. The little draughts that led nowhere -were taking the manhood out of him.</p> - -<p class='c001'>He went to the planter, and “My mother’s -dead,” said he, weeping.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“She died on the last plantation two months -ago; and she died once before that when you were -working for me last year,” said the planter, who -knew something of the ways of nativedom.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Then it’s my aunt, and she was just the same -as a mother to me,” said Deesa, weeping more than -ever. “She has left eighteen small children entirely -without bread, and it is I who must fill their -little stomachs,” said Deesa, beating his head on -the floor.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Who brought you the news?” said the planter.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“The post,” said Deesa.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>“There hasn’t been a post here for the past week. -Get back to your lines!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“A devastating sickness has fallen on my village, -and all my wives are dying,” yelled Deesa, really -in tears this time.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Call Chihun, who comes from Deesa’s village,” -said the planter. “Chihun, has this man a wife?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“He!” said Chihun. “No. Not a woman of -our village would look at him. They’d sooner -marry the elephant.” Chihun snorted. Deesa -wept and bellowed.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“You will get into a difficulty in a minute,” -said the planter. “Go back to your work!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Now I will speak Heaven’s truth,” gulped -Deesa, with an inspiration. “I haven’t been drunk -for two months. I desire to depart in order to get -properly drunk afar off and distant from this heavenly -plantation. Thus I shall cause no trouble.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>A flickering smile crossed the planter’s face. -“Deesa,” said he, “you’ve spoken the truth, and -I’d give you leave on the spot if anything could -be done with Moti Guj while you’re away. You -know that he will only obey your orders.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“May the Light of the Heavens live forty thousand -years. I shall be absent but ten little days. -After that, upon my faith and honour and soul, I -return. As to the inconsiderable interval, have I -the gracious permission of the Heaven-born to call -up Moti Guj?”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span>Permission was granted, and, in answer to Deesa’s -shrill yell, the lordly tusker swung out of the -shade of a clump of trees where he had been -squirting dust over himself till his master should -return.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Light of my heart, Protector of the Drunken, -Mountain of Might, give ear,” said Deesa, standing -in front of him.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Moti Guj gave ear, and saluted with his trunk. -“I am going away,” said Deesa.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Moti Guj’s eyes twinkled. He liked jaunts as -well as his master. One could snatch all manner -of nice things from the roadside then.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But you, you fubsy old pig, must stay behind -and work.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The twinkle died out as Moti Guj tried to look -delighted. He hated stump-hauling on the plantation. -It hurt his teeth.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I shall be gone for ten days, O Delectable -One. Hold up your near forefoot and I’ll impress -the fact upon it, warty toad of a dried mud-puddle.” -Deesa took a tent-peg and banged Moti -Guj ten times on the nails. Moti Guj grunted -and shuffled from foot to foot.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Ten days,” said Deesa, “you must work and -haul and root trees as Chihun here shall order you. -Take up Chihun and set him on your neck!” -Moti Guj curled the tip of his trunk, Chihun put -his foot there and was swung on to the neck. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span>Deesa handed Chihun the heavy <em>ankus</em>, the iron -elephant-goad.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Chihun thumped Moti Guj’s bald head as a -paviour thumps a kerbstone.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Moti Guj trumpeted.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Be still, hog of the backwoods. Chihun’s -your mahout for ten days. And now bid me -good-bye, beast after mine own heart. Oh, my -lord, my king! Jewel of all created elephants, -lily of the herd, preserve your honoured health; -be virtuous. Adieu!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Moti Guj lapped his trunk round Deesa and -swung him into the air twice. That was his way -of bidding the man good-bye.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“He’ll work now,” said Deesa to the planter. -“Have I leave to go?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The planter nodded, and Deesa dived into the -woods. Moti Guj went back to haul stumps.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Chihun was very kind to him, but he felt unhappy -and forlorn notwithstanding. Chihun gave -him balls of spices, and tickled him under the chin, -and Chihun’s little baby cooed to him after work -was over, and Chihun’s wife called him a darling; -but Moti Guj was a bachelor by instinct, as Deesa -was. He did not understand the domestic emotions. -He wanted the light of his universe back -again—the drink and the drunken slumber, the -savage beatings and the savage caresses.</p> - -<p class='c001'>None the less he worked well, and the planter -<span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>wondered. Deesa had vagabonded along the roads -till he met a marriage procession of his own caste -and, drinking, dancing, and tippling, had drifted -past all knowledge of the lapse of time.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The morning of the eleventh day dawned, and -there returned no Deesa. Moti Guj was loosed -from his ropes for the daily stint. He swung -clear, looked round, shrugged his shoulders, and -began to walk away, as one having business elsewhere.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Hi! ho! Come back, you,” shouted Chihun. -“Come back, and put me on your neck, Misborn -Mountain. Return, Splendour of the Hillsides. -Adornment of all India, heave to, or I’ll bang -every toe off your fat forefoot!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Moti Guj gurgled gently, but did not obey. -Chihun ran after him with a rope and caught him -up. Moti Guj put his ears forward, and Chihun -knew what that meant, though he tried to carry it -off with high words.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“None of your nonsense with me,” said he. -“To your pickets, Devil-son.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Hrrump!” said Moti Guj, and that was all—that -and the forebent ears.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Moti Guj put his hands in his pockets, chewed -a branch for a toothpick, and strolled about the -clearing, making jest of the other elephants, who -had just set to work.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Chihun reported the state of affairs to the planter, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>who came out with a dog-whip and cracked it furiously. -Moti Guj paid the white man the compliment -of charging him nearly a quarter of a mile -across the clearing and “Hrrumping” him into -the verandah. Then he stood outside the house -chuckling to himself, and shaking all over with -the fun of it, as an elephant will.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“We’ll thrash him,” said the planter. “He -shall have the finest thrashing that ever elephant -received. Give Kala Nag and Nazim twelve -foot of chain apiece, and tell them to lay on -twenty blows.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Kala Nag—which means Black Snake—and -Nazim were two of the biggest elephants in the -lines, and one of their duties was to administer the -graver punishments, since no man can beat an elephant -properly.</p> - -<p class='c001'>They took the whipping-chains and rattled them -in their trunks as they sidled up to Moti Guj, meaning -to hustle him between them. Moti Guj had never, -in all his life of thirty-nine years, been whipped, -and he did not intend to open new experiences. -So he waited, weaving his head from right to left, -and measuring the precise spot in Kala Nag’s fat -side where a blunt tusk would sink deepest. Kala -Nag had no tusks; the chain was his badge of authority; -but he judged it good to swing wide of -Moti Guj at the last minute, and seem to appear -as if he had brought out the chain for amusement. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>Nazim turned round and went home early. He -did not feel fighting-fit that morning, and so -Moti Guj was left standing alone with his ears -cocked.</p> - -<p class='c001'>That decided the planter to argue no more, and -Moti Guj rolled back to his inspection of the -clearing. An elephant who will not work, and is -not tied up, is not quite so manageable as an -eighty-one ton gun loose in a heavy sea-way. He -slapped old friends on the back and asked them -if the stumps were coming away easily; he talked -nonsense concerning labour and the inalienable -rights of elephants to a long “nooning”; and, -wandering to and fro, thoroughly demoralized the -garden till sundown, when he returned to his -pickets for food.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“If you won’t work you sha’n’t eat,” said Chihun -angrily. “You’re a wild elephant, and no -educated animal at all. Go back to your jungle.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Chihun’s little brown baby, rolling on the floor -of the hut, stretched its fat arms to the huge shadow -in the doorway. Moti Guj knew well that -it was the dearest thing on earth to Chihun. He -swung out his trunk with a fascinating crook at -the end, and the brown baby threw itself shouting -upon it. Moti Guj made fast and pulled up till -the brown baby was crowing in the air twelve -feet above his father’s head.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Great Chief!” said Chihun. “Flour cakes of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>the best, twelve in number, two feet across, and -soaked in rum shall be yours on the instant, and -two hundred pounds’ weight of fresh-cut young -sugar-cane therewith. Deign only to put down -safely that insignificant brat who is my heart and -my life to me.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Moti Guj tucked the brown baby comfortably -between his forefeet, that could have knocked into -toothpicks all Chihun’s hut, and waited for his food. -He ate it, and the brown baby crawled away. Moti -Guj dozed, and thought of Deesa. One of many -mysteries connected with the elephant is that his -huge body needs less sleep than anything else that -lives. Four or five hours in the night suffice—two -just before midnight, lying down on one side; two -just after one o’clock, lying down on the other. -The rest of the silent hours are filled with eating -and fidgeting and long grumbling soliloquies.</p> - -<p class='c001'>At midnight, therefore, Moti Guj strode out of -his pickets, for a thought had come to him that -Deesa might be lying drunk somewhere in the dark -forest with none to look after him. So all that night -he chased through the undergrowth, blowing and -trumpeting and shaking his ears. He went down -to the river and blared across the shallows where -Deesa used to wash him, but there was no answer. -He could not find Deesa, but he disturbed all the -elephants in the lines, and nearly frightened to -death some gypsies in the woods.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>At dawn Deesa returned to the plantation. He -had been very drunk indeed, and he expected to -fall into trouble for outstaying his leave. He -drew a long breath when he saw that the bungalow -and the plantation were still uninjured; for -he knew something of Moti Guj’s temper; and -reported himself with many lies and salaams. -Moti Guj had gone to his pickets for breakfast. -His night exercise had made him hungry.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Call up your beast,” said the planter, and Deesa -shouted in the mysterious elephant-language, that -some mahouts believe came from China at the birth -of the world, when elephants and not men were -masters. Moti Guj heard and came. Elephants -do not gallop. They move from spots at varying -rates of speed. If an elephant wished to catch an -express train he could not gallop, but he could catch -the train. Thus Moti Guj was at the planter’s door -almost before Chihun noticed that he had left his -pickets. He fell into Deesa’s arms trumpeting -with joy, and the man and beast wept and slobbered -over each other, and handled each other from -head to heel to see that no harm had befallen.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Now we will get to work,” said Deesa. “Lift -me up, my son and my joy.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Moti Guj swung him up, and the two went to -the coffee-clearing to look for irksome stumps.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The planter was too astonished to be very angry.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span> - <h2 class='c004'>WITHOUT BENEFIT OF CLERGY</h2> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c015'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Before my Spring I garnered Autumn’s gain,</div> - <div class='line'>Out of her time my field was white with grain,</div> - <div class='line in2'>The year gave up her secrets to my woe.</div> - <div class='line'>Forced and deflowered each sick season lay,</div> - <div class='line'>In mystery of increase and decay;</div> - <div class='line'>I saw the sunset ere men saw the day,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Who am too wise in that I should not know.</div> - <div class='line in29'><cite>Bitter Waters.</cite></div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class='c021'>I</h3> -<p class='c019'>“But if it be a girl?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Lord of my life, it cannot be. I have prayed -for so many nights, and sent gifts to Sheikh Badl’s -shrine so often, that I know God will give us a -son—a man-child that shall grow into a man. -Think of this and be glad. My mother shall be -his mother till I can take him again, and the mullah -of the Pattan mosque shall cast his nativity—God -send he be born in an auspicious hour!—and -then, and then thou wilt never weary of me, -thy slave.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Since when hast thou been a slave, my -queen?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Since the beginning—till this mercy came to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>me. How could I be sure of thy love when I -knew that I had been bought with silver?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Nay, that was the dowry. I paid it to thy -mother.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“And she has buried it, and sits upon it all day -long like a hen. What talk is yours of dower! -I was bought as though I had been a Lucknow -dancing-girl instead of a child.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Art thou sorry for the sale?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I have sorrowed; but to-day I am glad. Thou -wilt never cease to love me now?—answer, my -king.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Never—never. No.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Not even though the <em>mem-log</em>—the white women -of thy own blood—love thee? And remember, -I have watched them driving in the evening; -they are very fair.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I have seen fire-balloons by the hundred. I -have seen the moon, and—then I saw no more -fire-balloons.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Ameera clapped her hands and laughed. “Very -good talk,” she said. Then with an assumption -of great stateliness, “It is enough. Thou hast my -permission to depart,—if thou wilt.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The man did not move. He was sitting on a -low red-lacquered couch in a room furnished only -with a blue and white floor-cloth, some rugs, and -a very complete collection of native cushions. At -his feet sat a woman of sixteen, and she was all -<span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>but all the world in his eyes. By every rule and -law she should have been otherwise, for he was an -Englishman, and she a Mussulman’s daughter -bought two years before from her mother, who, -being left without money, would have sold Ameera -shrieking to the Prince of Darkness if the price -had been sufficient.</p> - -<p class='c001'>It was a contract entered into with a light heart; -but even before the girl had reached her bloom -she came to fill the greater portion of John -Holden’s life. For her, and the withered hag her -mother, he had taken a little house overlooking -the great red-walled city, and found,—when -the marigolds had sprung up by the well in the -courtyard and Ameera had established herself according -to her own ideas of comfort, and her -mother had ceased grumbling at the inadequacy -of the cooking-places, the distance from the daily -market, and at matters of housekeeping in general,—that -the house was to him his home. Any -one could enter his bachelor’s bungalow by day or -night, and the life that he led there was an unlovely -one. In the house in the city his feet only could -pass beyond the outer courtyard to the women’s -rooms; and when the big wooden gate was bolted -behind him he was king in his own territory, with -Ameera for queen. And there was going to be -added to this kingdom a third person whose arrival -Holden felt inclined to resent. It interfered with -<span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>his perfect happiness. It disarranged the orderly -peace of the house that was his own. But Ameera -was wild with delight at the thought of it, and her -mother not less so. The love of a man, and particularly -a white man, was at the best an inconstant -affair, but it might, both women argued, be -held fast by a baby’s hands. “And then,” Ameera -would always say, “then he will never care for the -white <em>mem-log</em>. I hate them all—I hate them all.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“He will go back to his own people in time,” -said the mother; “but by the blessing of God that -time is yet afar off.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Holden sat silent on the couch thinking of the -future, and his thoughts were not pleasant. The -drawbacks of a double life are manifold. The -Government, with singular care, had ordered him -out of the station for a fortnight on special duty in -the place of a man who was watching by the bedside -of a sick wife. The verbal notification of the -transfer had been edged by a cheerful remark that -Holden ought to think himself lucky in being a -bachelor and a free man. He came to break the -news to Ameera.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It is not good,” she said slowly, “but it is not -all bad. There is my mother here, and no harm will -come to me—unless indeed I die of pure joy. -Go thou to thy work and think no troublesome -thoughts. When the days are done I believe ... -nay, I am sure. And—and then I shall lay <em>him</em> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>in thy arms, and thou wilt love me for ever. The -train goes to-night, at midnight is it not? Go -now, and do not let thy heart be heavy by cause -of me. But thou wilt not delay in returning? -Thou wilt not stay on the road to talk to the bold -white <em>mem-log</em>. Come back to me swiftly, my -life.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>As he left the courtyard to reach his horse that -was tethered to the gate-post, Holden spoke to -the white-haired old watchman who guarded the -house, and bade him under certain contingencies -despatch the filled-up telegraph-form that Holden -gave him. It was all that could be done, and -with the sensations of a man who has attended his -own funeral Holden went away by the night mail -to his exile. Every hour of the day he dreaded -the arrival of the telegram, and every hour of the -night he pictured to himself the death of Ameera. -In consequence his work for the State was not of -first-rate quality, nor was his temper towards his -colleagues of the most amiable. The fortnight -ended without a sign from his home, and, torn to -pieces by his anxieties, Holden returned to be -swallowed up for two precious hours by a dinner -at the club, wherein he heard, as a man hears in a -swoon, voices telling him how execrably he had -performed the other man’s duties, and how he had -endeared himself to all his associates. Then he -fled on horseback through the night with his heart -<span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>in his mouth. There was no answer at first to his -blows on the gate, and he had just wheeled his -horse round to kick it in when Pir Khan appeared -with a lantern and held his stirrup.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Has aught occurred?” said Holden.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“The news does not come from my mouth, -Protector of the Poor, but——” He held out -his shaking hand as befitted the bearer of good -news who is entitled to a reward.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Holden hurried through the courtyard. A light -burned in the upper room. His horse neighed in -the gateway, and he heard a shrill little wail that -sent all the blood into the apple of his throat. It -was a new voice, but it did not prove that Ameera -was alive.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Who is there?” he called up the narrow -brick staircase.</p> - -<p class='c001'>There was a cry of delight from Ameera, and -then the voice of the mother, tremulous with old -age and pride—“We be two women and—the—man—thy—son.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>On the threshold of the room Holden stepped -on a naked dagger, that was laid there to avert ill-luck, -and it broke at the hilt under his impatient -heel.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“God is great!” cooed Ameera in the half-light. -“Thou hast taken his misfortunes on thy head.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Ay, but how is it with thee, life of my life? -Old woman, how is it with her?”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>“She has forgotten her sufferings for joy that the -child is born. There is no harm; but speak softly,” -said the mother.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It only needed thy presence to make me all -well,” said Ameera. “My king, thou hast been -very long away. What gifts hast thou for me? -Ah, ah! It is I that bring gifts this time. Look, -my life, look. Was there ever such a babe? -Nay, I am too weak even to clear my arm from -him.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Rest then, and do not talk. I am here, <em>bachari</em> -[little woman].”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Well said, for there is a bond and a heel-rope -[<em>peecharee</em>] between us now that nothing can break. -Look—canst thou see in this light? He is without -spot or blemish. Never was such a man-child. -<em>Ya illah!</em> he shall be a pundit—no, a trooper of -the Queen. And, my life, dost thou love me as -well as ever, though I am faint and sick and worn? -Answer truly.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Yea. I love as I have loved, with all my -soul. Lie still, pearl, and rest.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Then do not go. Sit by my side here—so. -Mother, the lord of this house needs a cushion. -Bring it.” There was an almost imperceptible -movement on the part of the new life that lay in -the hollow of Ameera’s arm. “Aho!” she said, -her voice breaking with love. “The babe is a -champion from his birth. He is kicking me in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>the side with mighty kicks. Was there ever such -a babe? And he is ours to us—thine and mine. -Put thy hand on his head, but carefully, for he is -very young, and men are unskilled in such matters.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Very cautiously Holden touched with the tips -of his fingers the downy head.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“He is of the faith,” said Ameera; “for lying -here in the night-watches I whispered the call to -prayer and the profession of faith into his ears. -And it is most marvellous that he was born upon -a Friday, as I was born. Be careful of him, my -life; but he can almost grip with his hands.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Holden found one helpless little hand that closed -feebly on his finger. And the clutch ran through -his body till it settled about his heart. Till then -his sole thought had been for Ameera. He began -to realise that there was some one else in the world, -but he could not feel that it was a veritable son -with a soul. He sat down to think, and Ameera -dozed lightly.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Get hence, Sahib,” said her mother under her -breath. “It is not good that she should find you -here on waking. She must be still.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I go,” said Holden submissively. “Here be -rupees. See that my <em>baba</em> gets fat and finds all -that he needs.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The chink of the silver roused Ameera. “I am -his mother, and no hireling,” she said weakly. -“Shall I look to him more or less for the sake of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>money? Mother, give it back. I have born my -lord a son.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The deep sleep of weakness came upon her -almost before the sentence was completed. Holden -went down to the courtyard very softly with his -heart at ease. Pir Khan, the old watchman, was -chuckling with delight. “This house is now complete,” -he said, and without further comment thrust -into Holden’s hands the hilt of a sabre worn many -years ago when he, Pir Khan, served the Queen -in the police. The bleat of a tethered goat came -from the well-kerb.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“There be two,” said Pir Khan, “two goats of -the best. I bought them, and they cost much -money; and since there is no birth-party assembled -their flesh will be all mine. Strike craftily, Sahib! -’Tis an ill-balanced sabre at the best. Wait till -they raise their heads from cropping the marigolds.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“And why?” said Holden, bewildered.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“For the birth-sacrifice. What else? Otherwise -the child being unguarded from fate may die. -The Protector of the Poor knows the fitting words -to be said.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Holden had learned them once with little thought -that he would ever speak them in earnest. The -touch of the cold sabre-hilt in his palm turned suddenly -to the clinging grip of the child up-stairs—the -child that was his own son—and a dread of -loss filled him.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>“Strike!” said Pir Khan. “Never life came -into the world but life was paid for it. See, the -goats have raised their heads. Now! With a -drawing cut!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Hardly knowing what he did Holden cut twice -as he muttered the Mahomedan prayer that runs: -“Almighty! In place of this my son I offer life -for life, blood for blood, head for head, bone for -bone, hair for hair, skin for skin.” The waiting -horse snorted and bounded in his pickets at the -smell of the raw blood that spurted over Holden’s -riding-boots.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Well smitten!” said Pir Khan, wiping the -sabre. “A swordsman was lost in thee. Go with -a light heart, Heaven-born. I am thy servant, -and the servant of thy son. May the Presence -live a thousand years and ... the flesh of the -goats is all mine?” Pir Khan drew back richer -by a month’s pay. Holden swung himself into -the saddle and rode off through the low-hanging -wood-smoke of the evening. He was full of riotous -exultation, alternating with a vast vague tenderness -directed towards no particular object, that -made him choke as he bent over the neck of his -uneasy horse. “I never felt like this in my life,” -he thought. “I’ll go to the club and pull myself -together.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>A game of pool was beginning, and the room -was full of men. Holden entered, eager to get to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>the light and the company of his fellows, singing -at the top of his voice—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c017'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>In Baltimore a-walking, a lady I did meet!</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c019'>“Did you?” said the club-secretary from his -corner. “Did she happen to tell you that your -boots were wringing wet? Great goodness, man, -it’s blood!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Bosh!” said Holden, picking his cue from the -rack. “May I cut in? It’s dew. I’ve been riding -through high crops. My faith! my boots are -in a mess though!</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c017'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“And if it be a girl she shall wear a wedding-ring,</div> - <div class='line'>And if it be a boy he shall fight for his king,</div> - <div class='line'>With his dirk, and his cap, and his little jacket blue,</div> - <div class='line'>He shall walk the quarter-deck—”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c019'>“Yellow on blue—green next player,” said the -marker monotonously.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“‘He shall walk the quarter-deck,’—Am I -green, marker? ‘He shall walk the quarter-deck,’—eh! -that’s a bad shot,—‘As his daddy -used to do!’”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I don’t see that you have anything to crow -about,” said a zealous junior civilian acidly. “The -Government is not exactly pleased with your work -when you relieved Sanders.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Does that mean a wigging from headquarters?” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>said Holden with an abstracted smile. “I think -I can stand it.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The talk beat up round the ever-fresh subject -of each man’s work, and steadied Holden till it -was time to go to his dark empty bungalow, where -his butler received him as one who knew all his -affairs. Holden remained awake for the greater -part of the night, and his dreams were pleasant -ones.</p> - -<h3 class='c021'>II</h3> - -<p class='c019'>“How old is he now?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“<em>Ya illah!</em> What a man’s question! He is -all but six weeks old; and on this night I go up -to the housetop with thee, my life, to count the -stars. For that is auspicious. And he was born -on a Friday under the sign of the Sun, and it has -been told to me that he will outlive us both and -get wealth. Can we wish for aught better, beloved?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“There is nothing better. Let us go up to the -roof, and thou shalt count the stars—but a few -only, for the sky is heavy with cloud.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“The winter rains are late, and maybe they -come out of season. Come, before all the stars -are hid. I have put on my richest jewels.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Thou hast forgotten the best of all.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“<em>Ai!</em> Ours. He comes also. He has never -yet seen the skies.”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>Ameera climbed the narrow staircase that led -to the flat roof. The child, placid and unwinking, -lay in the hollow of her right arm, gorgeous -in silver-fringed muslin with a small skull-cap on -his head. Ameera wore all that she valued most. -The diamond nose-stud that takes the place of -the Western patch in drawing attention to the -curve of the nostril, the gold ornament in the centre -of the forehead studded with tallow-drop emeralds -and flawed rubies, the heavy circlet of -beaten gold that was fastened round her neck by -the softness of the pure metal, and the chinking -curb-patterned silver anklets hanging low over -the rosy ankle-bone. She was dressed in jade-green -muslin as befitted a daughter of the Faith, -and from shoulder to elbow and elbow to wrist ran -bracelets of silver tied with floss silk, frail glass -bangles slipped over the wrist in proof of the slenderness -of the hand, and certain heavy gold bracelets -that had no part in her country’s ornaments -but, since they were Holden’s gift and fastened -with a cunning European snap, delighted her -immensely.</p> - -<p class='c001'>They sat down by the low white parapet of the -roof, overlooking the city and its lights.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“They are happy down there,” said Ameera. -“But I do not think that they are as happy as -we. Nor do I think the white <em>mem-log</em> are as -happy. And thou?”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>“I know they are not.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“How dost thou know?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“They give their children over to the nurses.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I have never seen that,” said Ameera with a -sigh, “nor do I wish to see. <em>Ahi!</em>”—she dropped -her head on Holden’s shoulder—“I have counted -forty stars, and I am tired. Look at the child, -love of my life, he is counting too.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The baby was staring with round eyes at the -dark of the heavens. Ameera placed him in -Holden’s arms, and he lay there without a cry.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“What shall we call him among ourselves?” -she said. “Look! Art thou ever tired of looking? -He carries thy very eyes. But the mouth——”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Is thine, most dear. Who should know better -than I?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“’Tis such a feeble mouth. Oh, so small! -And yet it holds my heart between its lips. Give -him to me now. He has been too long away.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Nay, let him lie; he has not yet begun to -cry.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“When he cries thou wilt give him back—eh? -What a man of mankind thou art! If he cried he -were only the dearer to me. But, my life, what -little name shall we give him?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The small body lay close to Holden’s heart. -It was utterly helpless and very soft. He scarcely -dared to breathe for fear of crushing it. The -caged green parrot that is regarded as a sort of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>guardian-spirit in most native households moved -on its perch and fluttered a drowsy wing.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“There is the answer,” said Holden. “Mian -Mittu has spoken. He shall be the parrot. When -he is ready he will talk mightily and run about. -Mian Mittu is the parrot in thy—in the Mussulman -tongue, is it not?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Why put me so far off?” said Ameera fretfully. -“Let it be like unto some English name—but -not wholly. For he is mine.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Then call him Tota, for that is likest English.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Ay, Tota, and that is still the parrot. Forgive -me, my lord, for a minute ago, but in truth he is -too little to wear all the weight of Mian Mittu -for name. He shall be Tota—our Tota to us. -Hearest thou, O small one? Littlest, thou art -Tota.” She touched the child’s cheek, and he -waking wailed, and it was necessary to return him -to his mother, who soothed him with the wonderful -rhyme of <em>Aré koko, Jaré koko!</em> which says:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c017'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Oh crow! Go crow! Baby’s sleeping sound,</div> - <div class='line'>And the wild plums grow in the jungle, only a penny a pound.</div> - <div class='line'>Only a penny a pound, <em>baba</em>, only a penny a pound.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c019'>Reassured many times as to the price of those -plums, Tota cuddled himself down to sleep. The -two sleek, white well-bullocks in the courtyard -were steadily chewing the cud of their evening -meal; old Pir Khan squatted at the head of Holden’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>horse, his police sabre across his knees, pulling -drowsily at a big water-pipe that croaked like -a bull-frog in a pond. Ameera’s mother sat spinning -in the lower verandah, and the wooden gate -was shut and barred. The music of a marriage-procession -came to the roof above the gentle hum -of the city, and a string of flying-foxes crossed the -face of the low moon.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I have prayed,” said Ameera after a long pause, -“I have prayed for two things. First, that I may -die in thy stead if thy death is demanded, and in -the second that I may die in the place of the child. -I have prayed to the Prophet and to Beebee Miriam -[the Virgin Mary]. Thinkest thou either will -hear?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“From thy lips who would not hear the lightest -word?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I asked for straight talk, and thou hast given -me sweet talk. Will my prayers be heard?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“How can I say? God is very good.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Of that I am not sure. Listen now. When -I die, or the child dies, what is thy fate? Living, -thou wilt return to the bold white <em>mem-log</em>, for kind -calls to kind.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Not always.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“With a woman, no; with a man it is otherwise. -Thou wilt in this life, later on, go back to -thine own folk. That I could almost endure, for -I should be dead. But in thy very death thou -<span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>wilt be taken away to a strange place and a paradise -that I do not know.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Will it be paradise?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Surely, for who would harm thee? But we -two—I and the child—shall be elsewhere, and -we cannot come to thee, nor canst thou come to -us. In the old days, before the child was born, I -did not think of these things; but now I think of -them always. It is very hard talk.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It will fall as it will fall. To-morrow we do -not know, but to-day and love we know well. -Surely we are happy now.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“So happy that it were well to make our happiness -assured. And thy Beebee Miriam should -listen to me; for she is also a woman. But then -she would envy me! It is not seemly for men to -worship a woman.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Holden laughed aloud at Ameera’s little spasm -of jealousy.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Is it not seemly? Why didst thou not turn -me from worship of thee, then?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Thou a worshipper! And of me? My king, -for all thy sweet words, well I know that I am thy -servant and thy slave, and the dust under thy feet. -And I would not have it otherwise. See!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Before Holden could prevent her she stooped -forward and touched his feet; recovering herself -with a little laugh she hugged Tota closer to her -bosom. Then, almost savagely——</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>“Is it true that the bold white <em>mem-log</em> live for -three times the length of my life? Is it true that -they make their marriages not before they are old -women?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“They marry as do others—when they are -women.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“That I know, but they wed when they are -twenty-five. Is that true?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“That is true.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“<em>Ya illah!</em> At twenty-five! Who would of -his own will take a wife even of eighteen? She -is a woman—aging every hour. Twenty-five! -I shall be an old woman at that age, and——Those -<em>mem-log</em> remain young for ever. How I -hate them!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“What have they to do with us?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I cannot tell. I know only that there may -now be alive on this earth a woman ten years -older than I who may come to thee and take thy -love ten years after I am an old woman, gray-headed, -and the nurse of Tota’s son. That is unjust -and evil. They should die too.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Now, for all thy years thou art a child, -and shalt be picked up and carried down the -staircase.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Tota! Have a care for Tota, my lord! Thou -at least art as foolish as any babe!” Ameera -tucked Tota out of harm’s way in the hollow of -her neck, and was carried downstairs laughing in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>Holden’s arms, while Tota opened his eyes and -smiled after the manner of the lesser angels.</p> - -<p class='c001'>He was a silent infant, and, almost before Holden -could realise that he was in the world, developed -into a small gold-coloured little god and unquestioned -despot of the house overlooking the city. -Those were months of absolute happiness to Holden -and Ameera—happiness withdrawn from the -world, shut in behind the wooden gate that Pir -Khan guarded. By day Holden did his work with -an immense pity for such as were not so fortunate -as himself, and a sympathy for small children that -amazed and amused many mothers at the little -station-gatherings. At nightfall he returned to -Ameera,—Ameera, full of the wondrous doings -of Tota; how he had been seen to clap his hands -together and move his fingers with intention and -purpose—which was manifestly a miracle—how -later, he had of his own initiative crawled out of -his low bedstead on to the floor and swayed on both -feet for the space of three breaths.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“And they were long breaths, for my heart stood -still with delight,” said Ameera.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Then Tota took the beasts into his councils—the -well-bullocks, the little gray squirrels, the mongoose -that lived in a hole near the well, and especially -Mian Mittu, the parrot, whose tail he grievously -pulled, and Mian Mittu screamed till Ameera -and Holden arrived.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>“O villain! Child of strength! This to thy -brother on the house-top! <em>Tobah, tobah!</em> Fie! -Fie! But I know a charm to make him wise as -Suleiman and Aflatoun [Solomon and Plato]. -Now look,” said Ameera. She drew from an embroidered -bag a handful of almonds. “See! we -count seven. In the name of God!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>She placed Mian Mittu, very angry and rumpled, -on the top of his cage, and seating herself -between the babe and the bird she cracked and -peeled an almond less white than her teeth. “This -is a true charm, my life, and do not laugh. See! -I give the parrot one half and Tota the other.” -Mian Mittu with careful beak took his share from -between Ameera’s lips, and she kissed the other -half into the mouth of the child, who ate it slowly -with wondering eyes. “This I will do each day -of seven, and without doubt he who is ours will -be a bold speaker and wise. Eh, Tota, what wilt -thou be when thou art a man and I am gray-headed?” -Tota tucked his fat legs into adorable -creases. He could crawl, but he was not going to -waste the spring of his youth in idle speech. He -wanted Mian Mittu’s tail to tweak.</p> - -<p class='c001'>When he was advanced to the dignity of a silver -belt—which, with a magic square engraved -on silver and hung round his neck, made up the -greater part of his clothing—he staggered on a -perilous journey down the garden to Pir Khan -<span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>and proffered him all his jewels in exchange for -one little ride on Holden’s horse, having seen his -mother’s mother chaffering with pedlars in the verandah. -Pir Khan wept and set the untried feet -on his own gray head in sign of fealty, and brought -the bold adventurer to his mother’s arms, vowing -that Tota would be a leader of men ere his beard -was grown.</p> - -<p class='c001'>One hot evening, while he sat on the roof between -his father and mother watching the never-ending -warfare of the kites that the city boys flew, -he demanded a kite of his own with Pir Khan to -fly it, because he had a fear of dealing with anything -larger than himself and when Holden called -him a “spark,” he rose to his feet and answered -slowly in defence of his new-found individuality, -“<em>Hum ’park nahin hai. Hum admi hai</em> [I am no -spark, but a man].”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The protest made Holden choke and devote -himself very seriously to a consideration of Tota’s -future. He need hardly have taken the trouble. -The delight of that life was too perfect to endure. -Therefore it was taken away as many things are -taken away in India—suddenly and without warning. -The little lord of the house, as Pir Khan -called him, grew sorrowful and complained of -pains who had never known the meaning of pain. -Ameera, wild with terror, watched him through -the night, and in the dawning of the second day -<span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>the life was shaken out of him by fever—the -seasonal autumn fever. It seemed altogether impossible -that he could die, and neither Ameera -nor Holden at first believed the evidence of the -little body on the bedstead. Then Ameera beat -her head against the wall and would have flung -herself down the well in the garden had Holden -not restrained her by main force.</p> - -<p class='c001'>One mercy only was granted to Holden. He -rode to his office in broad daylight and found -waiting him an unusually heavy mail that demanded -concentrated attention and hard work. -He was not, however, alive to this kindness of -the gods.</p> - -<h3 class='c021'>III</h3> - -<p class='c019'>The first shock of a bullet is no more than a -brisk pinch. The wrecked body does not send in -its protest to the soul till ten or fifteen seconds later. -Holden realised his pain slowly, exactly as he had -realised his happiness, and with the same imperious -necessity for hiding all trace of it. In the beginning -he only felt that there had been a loss, -and that Ameera needed comforting, where she sat -with her head on her knees shivering as Mian -Mittu from the house-top called <em>Tota! Tota! Tota!</em> -Later all his world and the daily life of it rose up -to hurt him. It was an outrage that any one of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>the children at the band-stand in the evening should -be alive and clamorous, when his own child lay -dead. It was more than mere pain when one of -them touched him, and stories told by over-fond -fathers of their children’s latest performances cut -him to the quick. He could not declare his pain. -He had neither help, comfort, nor sympathy; and -Ameera at the end of each weary day would lead -him through the hell of self-questioning reproach -which is reserved for those who have lost a child, -and believe that with a little—just a little—more -care it might have been saved.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Perhaps,” Ameera would say, “I did not take -sufficient heed. Did I, or did I not? The sun -on the roof that day when he played so long alone -and I was—<em>ahi!</em> braiding my hair—it may be -that the sun then bred the fever. If I had warned -him from the sun he might have lived. But, oh -my life, say that I am guiltless! Thou knowest -that I loved him as I love thee. Say that there is -no blame on me, or I shall die—I shall die!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“There is no blame,—before God, none. It -was written and how could we do aught to save? -What has been, has been. Let it go, beloved.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“He was all my heart to me. How can I let -the thought go when my arm tells me every night -that he is not here? <em>Ahi! Ahi!</em> O Tota, come -back to me—come back again, and let us be all -together as it was before!”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span>“Peace, peace! For thine own sake, and for -mine also, if thou lovest me—rest.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“By this I know thou dost not care; and how -shouldst thou? The white men have hearts of -stone and souls of iron. Oh, that I had married a -man of mine own people—though he beat me—and -had never eaten the bread of an alien!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Am I an alien—mother of my son?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“What else—Sahib?... Oh, forgive me—forgive! -The death has driven me mad. Thou -art the life of my heart, and the light of my eyes, -and the breath of my life, and—and I have put -thee from me, though it was but for a moment. -If thou goest away to whom shall I look for help? -Do not be angry. Indeed, it was the pain that -spoke and not thy slave.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I know, I know. We be two who were three. -The greater need therefore that we should be one.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>They were sitting on the roof as of custom. -The night was a warm one in early spring, and -sheet-lightning was dancing on the horizon to a -broken tune played by far-off thunder. Ameera -settled herself in Holden’s arms.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“The dry earth is lowing like a cow for the rain, -and I—I am afraid. It was not like this when -we counted the stars. But thou lovest me as -much as before, though a bond is taken away? -Answer!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I love more because a new bond has come -<span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>out of the sorrow that we have eaten together, -and that thou knowest.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Yea, I knew,” said Ameera in a very small -whisper. “But it is good to hear thee say so, my -life, who art so strong to help. I will be a child -no more, but a woman and an aid to thee. Listen! -Give me my <em>sitar</em> and I will sing bravely.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>She took the light silver-studded <em>sitar</em> and began -a song of the great hero Rajah Rasalu. The hand -failed on the strings, the tune halted, checked, and -at a low note turned off to the poor little nursery-rhyme -about the wicked crow—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c017'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>And the wild plums grow in the jungle, only a penny a pound.</div> - <div class='line'>Only a penny a pound, <em>baba</em>—only....</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c019'>Then came the tears, and the piteous rebellion -against fate till she slept, moaning a little in her -sleep, with the right arm thrown clear of the body -as though it protected something that was not -there. It was after this night that life became a -little easier for Holden. The ever-present pain of -loss drove him into his work, and the work repaid -him by filling up his mind for nine or ten hours a -day. Ameera sat alone in the house and brooded, -but grew happier when she understood that Holden -was more at ease, according to the custom of -women. They touched happiness again, but this -time with caution.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>“It was because we loved Tota that he died. -The jealousy of God was upon us,” said Ameera. -“I have hung up a large black jar before our -window to turn the evil eye from us, and we -must make no protestations of delight, but go -softly underneath the stars, lest God find us out. -Is that not good talk, worthless one?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>She had shifted the accent on the word that -means “beloved,” in proof of the sincerity of her -purpose. But the kiss that followed the new -christening was a thing that any deity might have -envied. They went about henceforward saying, -“It is naught, it is naught;” and hoping that all -the Powers heard.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The Powers were busy on other things. They -had allowed thirty million people four years of -plenty wherein men fed well and the crops were -certain, and the birth-rate rose year by year; the -districts reported a purely agricultural population -varying from nine hundred to two thousand to -the square mile of the overburdened earth; and -the Member for Lower Tooting, wandering about -India in pot-hat and frock-coat, talked largely of -the benefits of British rule and suggested as the -one thing needful the establishment of a duly -qualified electoral system and a general bestowal -of the franchise. His long-suffering hosts smiled -and made him welcome, and when he paused to -admire, with pretty picked words, the blossom of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>the blood-red <em>dhak</em>-tree that had flowered untimely -for a sign of what was coming, they smiled more -than ever.</p> - -<p class='c001'>It was the Deputy Commissioner of Kot-Kumharsen, -staying at the club for a day, who lightly -told a tale that made Holden’s blood run cold as -he overheard the end.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“He won’t bother any one any more. Never -saw a man so astonished in my life. By Jove, I -thought he meant to ask a question in the House -about it. Fellow-passenger in his ship—dined -next him—bowled over by cholera and died in -eighteen hours. You needn’t laugh, you fellows. -The Member for Lower Tooting is awfully -angry about it; but he’s more scared. I think -he’s going to take his enlightened self out of -India.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I’d give a good deal if he were knocked over. -It might keep a few vestrymen of his kidney to -their own parish. But what’s this about cholera? -It’s full early for anything of that kind,” said -the warden of an unprofitable salt-lick.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Don’t know,” said the Deputy Commissioner -reflectively. “We’ve got locusts with us. There’s -sporadic cholera all along the north—at least -we’re calling it sporadic for decency’s sake. The -spring crops are short in five districts, and nobody -seems to know where the rains are. It’s nearly -March now. I don’t want to scare anybody, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>but it seems to me that Nature’s going to -audit her accounts with a big red pencil this -summer.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Just when I wanted to take leave, too!” said -a voice across the room.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“There won’t be much leave this year, but -there ought to be a great deal of promotion. I’ve -come in to persuade the Government to put my -pet canal on the list of famine-relief works. It’s -an ill wind that blows no good. I shall get that -canal finished at last.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Is it the old programme then,” said Holden; -“famine, fever, and cholera?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Oh, no. Only local scarcity and an unusual -prevalence of seasonal sickness. You’ll find it all -in the reports if you live till next year. You’re -a lucky chap. <em>You</em> haven’t got a wife to send -out of harm’s way. The hill-stations ought to be -full of women this year.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I think you’re inclined to exaggerate the talk -in the <em>bazars</em>,” said a young civilian in the Secretariat. -“Now I have observed——”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I daresay you have,” said the Deputy Commissioner, -“but you’ve a great deal more to -observe, my son. In the meantime, I wish to observe -to you——” and he drew him aside to discuss -the construction of the canal that was so dear -to his heart. Holden went to his bungalow and -began to understand that he was not alone in the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>world, and also that he was afraid for the sake of -another—which is the most soul-satisfying fear -known to man.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Two months later, as the Deputy had foretold, -Nature began to audit her accounts with a red pencil. -On the heels of the spring-reapings came a -cry for bread, and the Government, which had decreed -that no man should die of want, sent wheat. -Then came the cholera from all four quarters of -the compass. It struck a pilgrim-gathering of -half a million at a sacred shrine. Many died at -the feet of their god; the others broke and ran -over the face of the land, carrying the pestilence -with them. It smote a walled city and killed two -hundred a day. The people crowded the trains, -hanging on to the footboards and squatting on the -roofs of the carriages, and the cholera followed -them, for at each station they dragged out the dead -and the dying. They died by the roadside, and -the horses of the Englishmen shied at the corpses -in the grass. The rains did not come, and the -earth turned to iron lest man should escape death -by hiding in her. The English sent their wives -away to the hills and went about their work, coming -forward as they were bidden to fill the gaps in -the fighting-line. Holden, sick with fear of losing -his chiefest treasure on earth, had done his best to -persuade Ameera to go away with her mother to -the Himalayas.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>“Why should I go?” said she one evening on -the roof.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“There is sickness, and people are dying, and -all the white <em>mem-log</em> have gone.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“All of them?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“All—unless perhaps there remain some old -scald-head who vexes her husband’s heart by running -risk of death.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Nay; who stays is my sister, and thou must -not abuse her, for I will be a scald-head too. I -am glad all the bold <em>mem-log</em> are gone.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Do I speak to a woman or a babe? Go -to the hills and I will see to it that thou goest -like a queen’s daughter. Think, child. In a -red-lacquered bullock-cart, veiled and curtained, -with brass peacocks upon the pole and red cloth -hangings. I will send two orderlies for guard, -and——”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Peace! Thou art the babe in speaking thus. -What use are those toys to me? <em>He</em> would have -patted the bullocks and played with the housings. -For his sake, perhaps,—thou hast made me very -English—I might have gone. Now, I will not. -Let the <em>mem-log</em> run.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Their husbands are sending them, beloved.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Very good talk. Since when hast thou been -my husband to tell me what to do? I have but -borne thee a son. Thou art only all the desire of -my soul to me. How shall I depart when I know -<span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>that if evil befall thee by the breadth of so much -as my littlest finger-nail—is that not small?—I -should be aware of it though I were in paradise. -And here, this summer thou mayest die—<em>ai, janee</em>, -die!—and in dying they might call to tend thee a -white woman, and she would rob me in the last -of thy love!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But love is not born in a moment or on a -death-bed!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“What dost thou know of love, stoneheart? -She would take thy thanks at least, and, by God -and the Prophet and Beebee Miriam the mother -of thy Prophet, that I will never endure. My -lord and my love, let there be no more foolish -talk of going away. Where thou art, I am. It -is enough.” She put an arm round his neck and -a hand on his mouth.</p> - -<p class='c001'>There are not many happinesses so complete as -those that are snatched under the shadow of the -sword. They sat together and laughed, calling -each other openly by every pet name that could -move the wrath of the gods. The city below -them was locked up in its own torments. Sulphur -fires blazed in the streets; the conches in the -Hindu temples screamed and bellowed, for the -gods were inattentive in those days. There was -a service in the great Mahomedan shrine, and the -call to prayer from the minarets was almost unceasing. -They heard the wailing in the houses -<span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>of the dead, and once the shriek of a mother who -had lost a child and was calling for its return. In -the gray dawn they saw the dead borne out through -the city gates, each litter with its own little knot -of mourners. Wherefore they kissed each other -and shivered.</p> - -<p class='c001'>It was a red and heavy audit, for the land was -very sick and needed a little breathing-space ere -the torrent of cheap life should flood it anew. -The children of immature fathers and undeveloped -mothers made no resistance. They were cowed and -sat still, waiting till the sword should be sheathed -in November if it were so willed. There were -gaps among the English, but the gaps were filled. -The work of superintending famine-relief, cholera-sheds, -medicine-distribution, and what little sanitation -was possible, went forward because it was -so ordered.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Holden had been told to keep himself in readiness -to move to replace the next man who should -fall. There were twelve hours in each day when -he could not see Ameera, and she might die in -three. He was considering what his pain would -be if he could not see her for three months, or if -she died out of his sight. He was absolutely certain -that her death would be demanded—so certain -that when he looked up from the telegram -and saw Pir Khan breathless in the doorway, he -laughed aloud. “And?” said he,——</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>“When there is a cry in the night and the spirit -flutters into the throat, who has a charm that will -restore? Come swiftly, Heaven-born! It is the -black cholera.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Holden galloped to his home. The sky was -heavy with clouds, for the long-deferred rains were -near and the heat was stifling. Ameera’s mother -met him in the courtyard, whimpering, “She is -dying. She is nursing herself into death. She is -all but dead. What shall I do, Sahib?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Ameera was lying in the room in which Tota -had been born. She made no sign when Holden -entered, because the human soul is a very lonely -thing, and, when it is getting ready to go away, -hides itself in a misty borderland where the living -may not follow. The black cholera does its work -quietly and without explanation. Ameera was being -thrust out of life as though the Angel of Death -had himself put his hand upon her. The quick -breathing seemed to show that she was either afraid -or in pain, but neither eyes nor mouth gave any -answer to Holden’s kisses. There was nothing to -be said or done. Holden could only wait and suffer. -The first drops of the rain began to fall on -the roof, and he could hear shouts of joy in the -parched city.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The soul came back a little and the lips moved. -Holden bent down to listen. “Keep nothing of -mine,” said Ameera. “Take no hair from my -<span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>head. <em>She</em> would make thee burn it later on. -That flame I should feel. Lower! Stoop lower! -Remember only that I was thine and bore thee a -son. Though thou wed a white woman to-morrow, -the pleasure of receiving in thy arms thy first -son is taken from thee for ever. Remember me -when thy son is born—the one that shall carry thy -name before all men. His misfortunes be on my -head. I bear witness—I bear witness”—the lips -were forming the words on his ear—“that there -is no God but—thee, beloved!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Then she died. Holden sat still, and all thought -was taken from him,—till he heard Ameera’s -mother lift the curtain.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Is she dead, Sahib?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“She is dead.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Then I will mourn, and afterwards take an inventory -of the furniture in this house. For that -will be mine. The Sahib does not mean to resume -it? It is so little, so very little, Sahib, and I am -an old woman. I would like to lie softly.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“For the mercy of God be silent a while. Go -out and mourn where I cannot hear.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Sahib, she will be buried in four hours.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I know the custom. I shall go ere she is taken -away. That matter is in thy hands. Look to it, -that the bed on which—on which she lies——”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Aha! That beautiful red-lacquered bed. I -have long desired——”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>“That the bed is left here untouched for my -disposal. All else in the house is thine. Hire a -cart, take everything, go hence, and before sunrise -let there be nothing in this house but that which I -have ordered thee to respect.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I am an old woman. I would stay at least -for the days of mourning, and the rains have just -broken. Whither shall I go?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“What is that to me? My order is that there -is a going. The house gear is worth a thousand -rupees, and my orderly shall bring thee a hundred -rupees to-night.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“That is very little. Think of the cart-hire.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It shall be nothing unless thou goest, and with -speed. O woman, get hence and leave me with -my dead!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The mother shuffled down the staircase, and in -her anxiety to take stock of the house-fittings forgot -to mourn. Holden stayed by Ameera’s side -and the rain roared on the roof. He could not -think connectedly by reason of the noise, though -he made many attempts to do so. Then four -sheeted ghosts glided dripping into the room and -stared at him through their veils. They were the -washers of the dead. Holden left the room and -went out to his horse. He had come in a dead, -stifling calm through ankle-deep dust. He found -the courtyard a rain-lashed pond alive with frogs; -a torrent of yellow water ran under the gate, and a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>roaring wind drove the bolts of the rain like buckshot -against the mud walls. Pir Khan was shivering -in his little hut by the gate, and the horse was -stamping uneasily in the water.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I have been told the Sahib’s order,” said Pir -Khan. “It is well. This house is now desolate. -I go also, for my monkey-face would be a reminder -of that which has been. Concerning the -bed, I will bring that to thy house yonder in the -morning; but remember, Sahib, it will be to thee a -knife turning in a green wound. I go upon a pilgrimage, -and I will take no money. I have grown -fat in the protection of the Presence whose sorrow is -my sorrow. For the last time I hold his stirrup.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>He touched Holden’s foot with both hands and -the horse sprang out into the road, where the creaking -bamboos were whipping the sky, and all the -frogs were chuckling. Holden could not see for -the rain in his face. He put his hands before his -eyes and muttered—</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Oh, you brute! You utter brute!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The news of his trouble was already in his bungalow. -He read the knowledge in his butler’s eyes -when Ahmed Khan brought in food, and for the -first and last time in his life laid a hand upon his -master’s shoulder, saying, “Eat, Sahib, eat. Meat -is good against sorrow. I also have known. Moreover, -the shadows come and go, Sahib; the shadows -come and go. These be curried eggs.”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>Holden could neither eat nor sleep. The heavens -sent down eight inches of rain in that night -and washed the earth clean. The waters tore down -walls, broke roads, and scoured open the shallow -graves on the Mahomedan burying-ground. All -next day it rained, and Holden sat still in his -house considering his sorrow. On the morning -of the third day he received a telegram which said -only, “Ricketts, Myndonie. Dying. Holden relieve. -Immediate.” Then he thought that before -he departed he would look at the house -wherein he had been master and lord. There was -a break in the weather, and the rank earth steamed -with vapour.</p> - -<p class='c001'>He found that the rains had torn down the mud -pillars of the gateway, and the heavy wooden gate -that had guarded his life hung lazily from one -hinge. There was grass three inches high in the -courtyard; Pir Khan’s lodge was empty, and the -sodden thatch sagged between the beams. A gray -squirrel was in possession of the verandah, as if -the house had been untenanted for thirty years instead -of three days. Ameera’s mother had removed -everything except some mildewed matting. -The <em>tick-tick</em> of the little scorpions as they hurried -across the floor was the only sound in the house. -Ameera’s room and the other one where Tota had -lived were heavy with mildew; and the narrow -staircase leading to the roof was streaked and stained -<span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>with rain-borne mud. Holden saw all these things, -and came out again to meet in the road Durga -Dass, his landlord,—portly, affable, clothed in -white muslin, and driving a Cee-spring buggy. -He was overlooking his property to see how the -roofs stood the stress of the first rains.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I have heard,” said he, “you will not take this -place any more, Sahib?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“What are you going to do with it?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Perhaps I shall let it again.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Then I will keep it on while I am away.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Durga Dass was silent for some time. “You -shall not take it on, Sahib,” he said. “When I -was a young man I also——, but to-day I am a -member of the Municipality. Ho! Ho! No. -When the birds have gone what need to keep the -nest? I will have it pulled down—the timber -will sell for something always. It shall be pulled -down, and the Municipality shall make a road -across, as they desire, from the burning-ghaut to -the city wall, so that no man may say where this -house stood.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span> - <h2 class='c004'>NABOTH</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='small'>Copyright, 1891, by Macmillan & Co.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c005'>This was how it happened; and the truth is also -an allegory of Empire.</p> - -<p class='c001'>I met him at the corner of my garden, an empty -basket on his head, and an unclean cloth round -his loins. That was all the property to which -Naboth had the shadow of a claim when I first -saw him. He opened our acquaintance by begging. -He was very thin and showed nearly as -many ribs as his basket; and he told me a long -story about fever and a lawsuit, and an iron cauldron -that had been seized by the court in execution -of a decree. I put my hand into my pocket -to help Naboth, as kings of the East have helped -alien adventurers to the loss of their kingdoms. -A rupee had hidden in my waistcoat lining. I -never knew it was there, and gave the trove to -Naboth as a direct gift from Heaven. He replied -that I was the only legitimate Protector of the -Poor he had ever known.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Next morning he reappeared, a little fatter in the -round, and curled himself into knots in the front verandah. -He said I was his father and his mother, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>and the direct descendant of all the gods in his -Pantheon, besides controlling the destinies of the -universe. He himself was but a sweetmeat-seller, -and much less important than the dirt under my -feet. I had heard this sort of thing before, so I -asked him what he wanted. My rupee, quoth -Naboth, had raised him to the everlasting heavens, -and he wished to prefer a request. He wished to -establish a sweetmeat-pitch near the house of his -benefactor, to gaze on my revered countenance as -I went to and fro illumining the world. I was -graciously pleased to give permission, and he -went away with his head between his knees.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Now at the far end of my garden the ground -slopes toward the public road, and the slope is -crowned with a thick shrubbery. There is a short -carriage-road from the house to the Mall, which -passes close to the shrubbery. Next afternoon I -saw that Naboth had seated himself at the bottom -of the slope, down in the dust of the public road, -and in the full glare of the sun, with a starved -basket of greasy sweets in front of him. He had -gone into trade once more on the strength of my -munificent donation, and the ground was as Paradise -by my honoured favour. Remember, there -was only Naboth, his basket, the sunshine, and -the gray dust when the sap of my Empire first -began.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Next day he had moved himself up the slope -<span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>nearer to my shrubbery, and waved a palm-leaf -fan to keep the flies off the sweets. So I judged -that he must have done a fair trade.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Four days later I noticed that he had backed -himself and his basket under the shadow of the -shrubbery, and had tied an Isabella-coloured rag -between two branches in order to make more -shade. There were plenty of sweets in his basket. -I thought that trade must certainly be looking up.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Seven weeks later the Government took up a -plot of ground for a Chief Court close to the end -of my compound, and employed nearly four hundred -coolies on the foundations. Naboth bought -a blue and white striped blanket, a brass lamp-stand, -and a small boy to cope with the rush of -trade, which was tremendous.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Five days later he bought a huge, fat, red-backed -account-book and a glass inkstand. Thus I saw -that the coolies had been getting into his debt, and -that commerce was increasing on legitimate lines -of credit. Also I saw that the one basket had -grown into three, and that Naboth had backed -and hacked into the shrubbery, and made himself -a nice little clearing for the proper display of the -basket, the blanket, the books, and the boy.</p> - -<p class='c001'>One week and five days later he had built a -mud fireplace in the clearing, and the fat account-book -was overflowing. He said that God created -few Englishmen of my kind, and that I was the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>incarnation of all human virtues. He offered me -some of his sweets as tribute, and by accepting -these I acknowledged him as my feudatory under -the skirt of my protection.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Three weeks later I noticed that the boy was in -the habit of cooking Naboth’s mid-day meal for -him, and Naboth was beginning to grow a stomach. -He had hacked away more of my shrubbery, -and owned another and a fatter account-book.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Eleven weeks later Naboth had eaten his way -nearly through that shrubbery, and there was a reed -hut with a bedstead outside it, standing in the -little glade that he had eroded. Two dogs and a -baby slept on the bedstead. So I fancied Naboth -had taken a wife. He said that he had, by my -favour, done this thing, and that I was several -times finer than Krishna.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Six weeks and two days later a mud wall had -grown up at the back of the hut. There were -fowls in front and it smelt a little. The Municipal -Secretary said that a cess-pool was forming in the -public road from the drainage of my compound, -and that I must take steps to clear it away. I -spoke to Naboth. He said I was Lord Paramount -of his earthly concerns, and the garden was all my -own property, and sent me some more sweets in a -second-hand duster.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Two months later a coolie bricklayer was killed -in a scuffle that took place opposite Naboth’s Vineyard. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>The Inspector of Police said it was a serious -case; went into my servants’ quarters; insulted my -butler’s wife, and wanted to arrest my butler. The -curious thing about the murder was that most of -the coolies were drunk at the time. Naboth pointed -out that my name was a strong shield between him -and his enemies, and he expected that another baby -would be born to him shortly.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Four months later the hut was <em>all</em> mud walls, -very solidly built, and Naboth had used most of -my shrubbery for his five goats. A silver watch -and an aluminium chain shone upon his very round -stomach. My servants were alarmingly drunk -several times, and used to waste the day with Naboth -when they got the chance. I spoke to Naboth. -He said, by my favour and the glory of my countenance, -he would make all his women-folk ladies, -and that if any one hinted that he was running an -illicit still under the shadow of the tamarisks, why, -I, his Suzerain, was to prosecute.</p> - -<p class='c001'>A week later he hired a man to make several -dozen square yards of trellis-work to put round the -back of his hut, that his women-folk might be -screened from the public gaze. The man went -away in the evening, and left his day’s work to -pave the short cut from the public road to my -house. I was driving home in the dusk, and -turned the corner by Naboth’s Vineyard quickly. -The next thing I knew was that the horses of the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>phaeton were stamping and plunging in the strongest -sort of bamboo net-work. Both beasts came -down. One rose with nothing more than chipped -knees. The other was so badly kicked that I was -forced to shoot him.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Naboth is gone now, and his hut is ploughed -into its native mud with sweetmeats instead of salt -for a sign that the place is accursed. I have built -a summer-house to overlook the end of the garden, -and it is as a fort on my frontier whence I guard -my Empire.</p> - -<p class='c001'>I know exactly how Ahab felt. He has been -shamefully misrepresented in the Scriptures.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span> - <h2 class='c004'>THE SENDING OF DANA DA</h2> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c015'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>When the Devil rides on your chest remember the <em>chamar</em>.</div> - <div class='line in44'>—<cite>Native Proverb.</cite></div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c005'>Once upon a time, some people in India made a -new Heaven and a new Earth out of broken tea-cups, -a missing brooch or two, and a hair-brush. -These were hidden under bushes, or stuffed into -holes in the hillside, and an entire Civil Service of -subordinate Gods used to find or mend them again; -and every one said: “There are more things in -Heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy.” -Several other things happened also, but -the Religion never seemed to get much beyond its -first manifestations; though it added an air-line -postal service, and orchestral effects in order to -keep abreast of the times and choke off competition.</p> - -<p class='c001'>This Religion was too elastic for ordinary use. -It stretched itself and embraced pieces of everything -that the medicine-men of all ages have manufactured. -It approved of and stole from Freemasonry; -looted the Latter-day Rosicrucians of -half their pet words; took any fragments of Egyptian -<span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>philosophy that it found in the “Encyclopædia -Britannica”; annexed as many of the Vedas -as had been translated into French or English, and -talked of all the rest; built in the German versions -of what is left of the Zend Avesta; encouraged -White, Gray and Black Magic, including spiritualism, -palmistry, fortune-telling by cards, hot -chestnuts, double-kernelled nuts and tallow-droppings; -would have adopted Voodoo and Oboe had -it known anything about them, and showed itself, -in every way, one of the most accommodating arrangements -that had ever been invented since the -birth of the Sea.</p> - -<p class='c001'>When it was in thorough working order, with -all the machinery, down to the subscriptions, complete, -Dana Da came from nowhere, with nothing -in his hands, and wrote a chapter in its history -which has hitherto been unpublished. He said -that his first name was Dana, and his second was -Da. Now, setting aside Dana of the New York -“Sun,” Dana is a Bhil name, and Da fits no native -of India unless you accept the Bengali Dé as the -original spelling. Da is Lap or Finnish; and -Dana Da was neither Finn, Chin, Bhil, Bengali, -Lap, Nair, Gond, Romaney, Magh, Bokhariot, -Kurd, Armenian, Levantine, Jew, Persian, Punjabi, -Madrasi, Parsee, nor anything else known to ethnologists. -He was simply Dana Da, and declined -to give further information. For the sake of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>brevity and as roughly indicating his origin, he -was called “The Native.” He might have been -the original Old Man of the Mountains, who is -said to be the only authorized head of the Tea-cup -Creed. Some people said that he was; but Dana -Da used to smile and deny any connection with -the cult; explaining that he was an “Independent -Experimenter.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>As I have said, he came from nowhere, with his -hands behind his back, and studied the Creed for -three weeks; sitting at the feet of those best competent -to explain its mysteries. Then he laughed -aloud and went away, but the laugh might have -been either of devotion or derision.</p> - -<p class='c001'>When he returned he was without money, but -his pride was unabated. He declared that he -knew more about the Things in Heaven and Earth -than those who taught him, and for this contumacy -was abandoned altogether.</p> - -<p class='c001'>His next appearance in public life was at a big -cantonment in Upper India, and he was then telling -fortunes with the help of three leaden dice, a -very dirty old cloth, and a little tin box of opium -pills. He told better fortunes when he was allowed -half a bottle of whiskey; but the things -which he invented on the opium were quite worth -the money. He was in reduced circumstances. -Among other people’s he told the fortune of an -Englishman who had once been interested in the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>Simla Creed, but who, later on, had married and -forgotten all his old knowledge in the study of -babies and things. The Englishman allowed Dana -Da to tell a fortune for charity’s sake, and gave -him five rupees, a dinner, and some old clothes. -When he had eaten, Dana Da professed gratitude, -and asked if there were anything he could do for -his host—in the esoteric line.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Is there any one that you love?” said Dana -Da. The Englishman loved his wife, but had no -desire to drag her name into the conversation. He -therefore shook his head.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Is there any one that you hate?” said Dana -Da. The Englishman said that there were several -men whom he hated deeply.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Very good,” said Dana Da, upon whom the -whiskey and the opium were beginning to tell. -“Only give me their names, and I will despatch -a Sending to them and kill them.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Now a Sending is a horrible arrangement, first -invented, they say, in Iceland. It is a Thing sent -by a wizard, and may take any form, but, most -generally, wanders about the land in the shape of -a little purple cloud till it finds the Sendee, and -him it kills by changing into the form of a horse, -or a cat, or a man without a face. It is not strictly -a native patent, though <em>chamars</em> of the skin and -hide castes can, if irritated, despatch a Sending -which sits on the breast of their enemy by night -<span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>and nearly kills him. Very few natives care to -irritate <em>chamars</em> for this reason.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Let me despatch a Sending,” said Dana Da; -“I am nearly dead now with want, and drink, and -opium; but I should like to kill a man before I -die. I can send a Sending anywhere you choose, -and in any form except in the shape of a man.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The Englishman had no friends that he wished -to kill, but partly to soothe Dana Da, whose eyes -were rolling, and partly to see what would be done, -he asked whether a modified Sending could not be -arranged for—such a Sending as should make a -man’s life a burden to him, and yet do him no -harm. If this were possible, he notified his willingness -to give Dana Da ten rupees for the job.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I am not what I was once,” said Dana Da, -“and I must take the money because I am poor. -To what Englishman shall I send it?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Send a Sending to Lone Sahib,” said the Englishman, -naming a man who had been most bitter -in rebuking him for his apostasy from the Tea-cup -Creed. Dana Da laughed and nodded.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I could have chosen no better man myself,” -said he. “I will see that he finds the Sending -about his path and about his bed.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>He lay down on the hearth-rug, turned up the -whites of his eyes, shivered all over and began to -snort. This was Magic, or Opium, or the Sending, -or all three. When he opened his eyes he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>vowed that the Sending had started upon the war-path, -and was at that moment flying up to the -town where Lone Sahib lives.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Give me my ten rupees,” said Dana Da wearily, -“and write a letter to Lone Sahib, telling him, -and all who believe with him, that you and a -friend are using a power greater than theirs. They -will see that you are speaking the truth.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>He departed unsteadily, with the promise of -some more rupees if anything came of the Sending.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The Englishman sent a letter to Lone Sahib, -couched in what he remembered of the terminology -of the Creed. He wrote: “I also, in the -days of what you held to be my backsliding, have -obtained Enlightenment, and with Enlightenment -has come Power.” Then he grew so deeply mysterious -that the recipient of the letter could make -neither head nor tail of it, and was proportionately -impressed; for he fancied that his friend had become -a “fifth-rounder.” When a man is a “fifth-rounder” -he can do more than Slade and Houdin -combined.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Lone Sahib read the letter in five different fashions, -and was beginning a sixth interpretation when -his bearer dashed in with the news that there was -a cat on the bed. Now if there was one thing that -Lone Sahib hated more than another, it was a cat. -He scolded the bearer for not turning it out of the -house. The bearer said that he was afraid. All -<span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span>the doors of the bedroom had been shut throughout -the morning, and no <em>real</em> cat could possibly -have entered the room. He would prefer not to -meddle with the creature.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Lone Sahib entered the room gingerly, and there, -on the pillow of his bed, sprawled and whimpered -a wee white kitten; not a jumpsome, frisky little -beast, but a slug-like crawler with its eyes barely -opened and its paws lacking strength or <a id='corr151.9'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='direction.'>direction,</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_151.9'><ins class='correction' title='direction.'>direction,</ins></a></span>—a -kitten that ought to have been in a basket -with its mamma. Lone Sahib caught it by the -scruff of its neck, handed it over to the sweeper to -be drowned, and fined the bearer four annas.</p> - -<p class='c001'>That evening, as he was reading in his room, he -fancied that he saw something moving about on -the hearth-rug, outside the circle of light from his -reading-lamp. When the thing began to myowl, -he realised that it was a kitten—a wee white kitten, -nearly blind and very miserable. He was -seriously angry, and spoke bitterly to his bearer, -who said that there was no kitten in the room -when he brought in the lamp, and <em>real</em> kittens -of tender age generally had mother-cats in attendance.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“If the Presence will go out into the verandah -and listen,” said the bearer, “he will hear no cats. -How, therefore, can the kitten on the bed and the -kitten on the hearth-rug be real kittens?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Lone Sahib went out to listen, and the bearer -<span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span>followed him, but there was no sound of any one -mewing for her children. He returned to his room, -having hurled the kitten down the hillside, and -wrote out the incidents of the day for the benefit -of his co-religionists. Those people were so absolutely -free from superstition that they ascribed -anything a little out of the common to Agencies. -As it was their business to know all about the -Agencies, they were on terms of almost indecent -familiarity with Manifestations of every kind. -Their letters dropped from the ceiling—un-stamped—and -Spirits used to squatter up and -down their staircases all night; but they had never -come into contact with kittens. Lone Sahib wrote -out the facts, noting the hour and the minute, as -every Psychical Observer is bound to do, and appending -the Englishman’s letter because it was the -most mysterious document and might have had a -bearing upon anything in this world or the next. -An outsider would have translated all the tangle -thus: “Look out! You laughed at me once, and -now I am going to make you sit up.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Lone Sahib’s co-religionists found that meaning -in it; but their translation was refined and full of -four-syllable words. They held a sederunt, and -were filled with tremulous joy, for, in spite of their -familiarity with all the other worlds and cycles, -they had a very human awe of things sent from -Ghost-land. They met in Lone Sahib’s room in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>shrouded and sepulchral gloom, and their conclave -was broken up by a clinking among the photo-frames -on the mantelpiece. A wee white kitten, -nearly blind, was looping and writhing itself between -the clock and the candlesticks. That stopped -all investigations or doubtings. Here was the -Manifestation in the flesh. It was, so far as could -be seen, devoid of purpose, but it was a Manifestation -of undoubted authenticity.</p> - -<p class='c001'>They drafted a Round Robin to the Englishman, -the backslider of old days, adjuring him in -the interests of the Creed to explain whether there -was any connection between the embodiment of -some Egyptian God or other (I have forgotten the -name) and his communication. They called the -kitten Ra, or Toth, or Tum, or something; and -when Lone Sahib confessed that the first one had, -at his most misguided instance, been drowned by -the sweeper, they said consolingly that in his next -life he would be a “bounder,” and not even a -“rounder” of the lowest grade. These words may -not be quite correct, but they accurately express -the sense of the house.</p> - -<p class='c001'>When the Englishman received the Round -Robin—it came by post—he was startled and -bewildered. He sent into the bazar for Dana Da, -who read the letter and laughed. “That is my -Sending,” said he. “I told you I would work -well. Now give me another ten rupees.”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>“But what in the world is this gibberish about -Egyptian Gods?” asked the Englishman.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Cats,” said Dana Da with a hiccough, for he -had discovered the Englishman’s whiskey-bottle. -“Cats, and cats, and cats! Never was such a -Sending. A hundred of cats. Now give me ten -more rupees and write as I dictate.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Dana Da’s letter was a curiosity. It bore the -Englishman’s signature, and hinted at cats—at a -Sending of Cats. The mere words on paper were -creepy and uncanny to behold.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“What have you done, though?” said the Englishman. -“I am as much in the dark as ever. Do -you mean to say that you can actually send this absurd -Sending you talk about?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Judge for yourself,” said Dana Da. “What -does that letter mean? In a little time they will -all be at my feet and yours, and I—O Glory!—will -be drugged or drunk all day long.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Dana Da knew his people.</p> - -<p class='c001'>When a man who hates cats wakes up in the -morning and finds a little squirming kitten on his -breast, or puts his hand into his ulster-pocket and -finds a little half-dead kitten where his gloves -should be, or opens his trunk and finds a vile kitten -among his dress-shirts, or goes for a long ride -with his mackintosh strapped on his saddle-bow -and shakes a little squawling kitten from its folds -when he opens it, or goes out to dinner and finds -<span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>a little blind kitten under his chair, or stays at -home and finds a writhing kitten under the quilt, -or wriggling among his boots, or hanging, head -downwards, in his tobacco-jar, or being mangled -by his terrier in the verandah,—when such a man -finds one kitten, neither more nor less, once a day -in a place where no kitten rightly could or should -be, he is naturally upset. When he dare not murder -his daily trove because he believes it to be a -Manifestation, an Emissary, an Embodiment, and -half a dozen other things all out of the regular -course of nature, he is more than upset. He is -actually distressed. Some of Lone Sahib’s co-religionists -thought that he was a highly favoured -individual; but many said that if he had treated -the first kitten with proper respect—as suited a -Toth-Ra-Tum-Sennacherib Embodiment—all this -trouble would have been averted. They compared -him to the Ancient Mariner, but none the less -they were proud of him and proud of the Englishman -who had sent the Manifestation. They did -not call it a Sending because Icelandic magic was -not in their programme.</p> - -<p class='c001'>After sixteen kittens, that is to say after one -fortnight, for there were three kittens on the first -day to impress the fact of the Sending, the whole -camp was uplifted by a letter—it came flying -through a window—from the Old Man of the -Mountains—the Head of all the Creed—explaining -<span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>the Manifestation in the most beautiful language -and soaking up all the credit for it himself. -The Englishman, said the letter, was not there at -all. He was a backslider without Power or Asceticism, -who couldn’t even raise a table by force -of volition, much less project an army of kittens -through space. The entire arrangement, said the -letter, was strictly orthodox, worked and sanctioned -by the highest authorities within the pale of the -Creed. There was great joy at this, for some of -the weaker brethren seeing, that an outsider who -had been working on independent lines could create -kittens, whereas their own rulers had never -gone beyond crockery—and broken at best—were -showing a desire to break line on their own trail. -In fact, there was the promise of a schism. A -second Round Robin was drafted to the Englishman, -beginning: “O Scoffer,” and ending with a -selection of curses from the Rites of Mizraim and -Memphis and the Commination of Jugana, who -was a “fifth rounder” upon whose name an upstart -“third-rounder” once traded. A papal excommunication -is a <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>billet-doux</em></span> compared to the -Commination of Jugana. The Englishman had -been proved, under the hand and seal of the Old -Man of the Mountains, to have appropriated Virtue -and pretended to have Power which, in reality, -belonged only to the Supreme Head. Naturally -the Round Robin did not spare him.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span>He handed the letter to Dana Da to translate -into decent English. The effect on Dana Da was -curious. At first he was furiously angry, and then -he laughed for five minutes.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I had thought,” he said, “that they would have -come to me. In another week I would have shown -that I sent the Sending, and they would have dis-crowned -the Old Man of the Mountains who has -sent this Sending of mine. Do you do nothing. -The time has come for me to act. Write as I -dictate, and I will put them to shame. But give -me ten more rupees.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>At Dana Da’s dictation the Englishman wrote -nothing less than a formal challenge to the Old -Man of the Mountains. It wound up: “And if -this Manifestation be from your hand, then let it -go forward; but if it be from my hand, I will that -the Sending shall cease in two days’ time. On -that day there shall be twelve kittens and thenceforward -none at all. The people shall judge between -us.” This was signed by Dana Da, who -added pentacles and pentagrams, and a <span lang="la" xml:lang="la"><em>crux ansata</em></span>, -and half a dozen <em>swastikas</em>, and a Triple Tau to -his name, just to show that he was all he laid claim -to be.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The challenge was read out to the gentlemen -and ladies, and they remembered then that Dana -Da had laughed at them some years ago. It was -officially announced that the Old Man of the Mountains -<span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span>would treat the matter with contempt; Dana -Da being an Independent Investigator without a -single “round” at the back of him. But this did -not soothe his people. They wanted to see a fight. -They were very human for all their spirituality. -Lone Sahib, who was really being worn out with -kittens, submitted meekly to his fate. He felt -that he was being “kittened to prove the power -of Dana Da,” as the poet says.</p> - -<p class='c001'>When the stated day dawned, the shower of -kittens began. Some were white and some were -tabby, and all were about the same loathsome age. -Three were on his hearth-rug, three in his bath-room, -and the other six turned up at intervals -among the visitors who came to see the prophecy -break down. Never was a more satisfactory Sending. -On the next day there were no kittens, and -the next day and all the other days were kittenless -and quiet. The people murmured and looked to -the Old Man of the Mountains for an explanation. -A letter, written on a palm-leaf, dropped from the -ceiling, but every one except Lone Sahib felt that -letters were not what the occasion demanded. -There should have been cats, there should have been -cats,—full-grown ones. The letter proved conclusively -that there had been a hitch in the Psychic -Current which, colliding with a Dual Identity, had -interfered with the Percipient Activity all along -the main line. The kittens were still going on, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>but owing to some failure in the Developing Fluid, -they were not materialised. The air was thick -with letters for a few days afterwards. Unseen -hands played Glück and Beethoven on finger-bowls -and clock-shades; but all men felt that Psychic -Life was a mockery without materialised Kittens. -Even Lone Sahib shouted with the majority -on this head. Dana Da’s letters were very insulting, -and if he had then offered to lead a new departure, -there is no knowing what might not have -happened.</p> - -<div id='i158' class='figcenter id001'> -<img src='images/i_158f.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic002'> -<p>THE SENDING OF DANA DA</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c001'>But Dana Da was dying of whiskey and opium -in the Englishman’s godown, and had small heart -for honours.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“They have been put to shame,” said he. -“Never was such a Sending. It has killed me.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Nonsense,” said the Englishman, “you are going -to die, Dana Da, and that sort of stuff must be -left behind. I’ll admit that you have made some -queer things come about. Tell me honestly, now, -how was it done?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Give me ten more rupees,” said Dana Da -faintly, “and if I die before I spend them, bury -them with me.” The silver was counted out while -Dana Da was fighting with Death. His hand -closed upon the money and he smiled a grim -smile.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Bend low,” he whispered. The Englishman -bent.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span>“<em>Bunnia</em>—Mission-school—expelled—<em>box-wallah</em> -(peddler)—Ceylon pearl-merchant—all -mine English education—out-casted, and made -up name Dana Da—England with American -thought-reading man and—and—you gave me -ten rupees several times—I gave the Sahib’s bearer -two-eight a month for cats—little, little cats. I -wrote, and he put them about—very clever man. -Very few kittens now in the bazar. Ask Lone -Sahib’s sweeper’s wife.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>So saying, Dana Da gasped and passed away -into a land where, if all be true, there are no materialisations -and the making of new creeds is discouraged.</p> - -<p class='c001'>But consider the gorgeous simplicity of it all!</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span> - <h2 class='c004'>THROUGH THE FIRE</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='small'>Copyright, 1891, by Macmillan & Co.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c005'>The Policeman rode through the Himalayan forest, -under the moss-draped oaks, and his orderly trotted -after him.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It’s an ugly business, Bhere Singh,” said the -Policeman. “Where are they?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It is a very ugly business,” said Bhere Singh; -“and as for <em>them</em>, they are, doubtless, now frying -in a hotter fire than was ever made of spruce-branches.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Let us hope not,” said the Policeman, “for, allowing -for the difference between race and race, -it’s the story of Francesca da Rimini, Bhere Singh.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Bhere Singh knew nothing about Francesca da -Rimini, so he held his peace until they came to -the charcoal-burners’ clearing where the dying -flames said “<em>whit, whit, whit</em>” as they fluttered -and whispered over the white ashes. It must have -been a great fire when at full height. Men had -seen it at Donga Pa across the valley winking and -blazing through the night, and said that the charcoal-burners -of Kodru were getting drunk. But -it was only Suket Singh, Sepoy of the 102d Punjab -<span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>Native Infantry, and Athira, a woman, -burning—burning—burning.</p> - -<p class='c001'>This was how things befell; and the Policeman’s -Diary will bear me out.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Athira was the wife of Madu, who was a charcoal-burner, -one-eyed and of a malignant disposition. -A week after their marriage, he beat Athira -with a heavy stick. A month later, Suket Singh, -Sepoy, came that way to the cool hills on leave -from his regiment, and electrified the villagers of -Kodru with tales of service and glory under the -Government, and the honour in which he, Suket -Singh, was held by the Colonel Sahib Bahadur. -And Desdemona listened to Othello as Desdemonas -have done all the world over, and, as she -listened, she loved.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I’ve a wife of my own,” said Suket Singh, -“though that is no matter when you come to think -of it. I am also due to return to my regiment -after a time, and I cannot be a deserter—I who -intend to be Havildar.” There is no Himalayan -version of “I could not love thee, dear, as much, -Loved I not Honour more”; but Suket Singh -came near to making one.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Never mind,” said Athira, “stay with me, and, -if Madu tries to beat me, you beat him.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Very good,” said Suket Singh; and he beat -Madu severely, to the delight of all the charcoal-burners -of Kodru.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>“That is enough,” said Suket Singh, as he rolled -Madu down the hillside. “Now we shall have -peace.” But Madu crawled up the grass slope -again, and hovered round his hut with angry eyes.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“He’ll kill me dead,” said Athira to Suket -Singh. “You must take me away.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“There’ll be a trouble in the Lines. My wife -will pull out my beard; but never mind,” said -Suket Singh, “I will take you.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>There was loud trouble in the Lines, and Suket -Singh’s beard was pulled, and Suket Singh’s wife -went to live with her mother and took away the -children. “That’s all right,” said Athira; and -Suket Singh said, “Yes, that’s all right.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>So there was only Madu left in the hut that -looks across the valley to Donga Pa; and, since -the beginning of time, no one has had any sympathy -for husbands so unfortunate as Madu.</p> - -<p class='c001'>He went to Juseen Dazé, the wizard-man who -keeps the Talking Monkey’s Head.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Get me back my wife,” said Madu.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I can’t,” said Juseen Dazé, “until you have -made the Sutlej in the valley run up the Donga Pa.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“No riddles,” said Madu, and he shook his -hatchet above Juseen Dazé’s white head.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Give all your money to the headmen of the -village,” said Juseen Dazé; “and they will hold -a communal Council, and the Council will send -a message that your wife must come back.”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>So Madu gave up all his worldly wealth, -amounting to twenty-seven rupees, eight annas, -three pice, and a silver chain, to the Council of -Kodru. And it fell as Juseen Dazé foretold.</p> - -<p class='c001'>They sent Athira’s brother down into Suket -Singh’s regiment to call Athira home. Suket -Singh kicked him once round the Lines, and then -handed him over to the Havildar, who beat him -with a belt.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Come back,” yelled Athira’s brother.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Where to?” said Athira.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“To Madu,” said he.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Never,” said she.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Then Juseen Dazé will send a curse, and you -will wither away like a barked tree in the springtime,” -said Athira’s brother. Athira slept over -these things.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Next morning she had rheumatism. “I am -beginning to wither away like a barked tree in -the springtime,” she said. “That is the curse of -Juseen Dazé.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>And she really began to wither away because -her heart was dried up with fear, and those who -believe in curses die from curses. Suket Singh, -too, was afraid because he loved Athira better than -his very life. Two months passed, and Athira’s -brother stood outside the regimental Lines again -and yelped, “Aha! You are withering away. -Come back.”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span>“I will come back,” said Athira.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Say rather that <em>we</em> will come back,” said Suket -Singh.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Ai; but when?” said Athira’s brother.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Upon a day very early in the morning,” said -Suket Singh; and he tramped off to apply to the -Colonel Sahib Bahadur for one week’s leave.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I am withering away like a barked tree in the -spring,” moaned Athira.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“You will be better soon,” said Suket Singh; -and he told her what was in his heart, and the -two laughed together softly, for they loved each -other. But Athira grew better from that hour.</p> - -<p class='c001'>They went away together, travelling third-class -by train as the regulations provided, and then in -a cart to the low hills, and on foot to the high -ones. Athira sniffed the scent of the pines of her -own hills, the wet Himalayan hills. “It is good -to be alive,” said Athira.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Hah!” said Suket Singh. “Where is the -Kodru road and where is the Forest Ranger’s -house?”...</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It cost forty rupees twelve years ago,” said -the Forest Ranger, handing the gun.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Here are twenty,” said Suket Singh, “and -you must give me the best bullets.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It is <em>very</em> good to be alive,” said Athira wistfully, -sniffing the scent of the pine-mould; and -they waited till the night had fallen upon Kodru -<span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>and the Donga Pa. Madu had stacked the dry -wood for the next day’s charcoal-burning on the -spur above his house. “It is courteous in Madu -to save us this trouble,” said Suket Singh as he -stumbled on the pile, which was twelve foot -square and four high. “We must wait till the -moon rises.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>When the moon rose, Athira knelt upon the -pile. “If it were only a Government Snider,” -said Suket Singh ruefully, squinting down the -wire-bound barrel of the Forest Ranger’s gun.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Be quick,” said Athira; and Suket Singh was -quick; but Athira was quick no longer. Then he -lit the pile at the four corners and climbed on to -it, reloading the gun.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The little flames began to peer up between the big -logs atop of the brushwood. “The Government -should teach us to pull the triggers with our toes,” -said Suket Singh grimly to the moon. That was -the last public observation of Sepoy Suket Singh.</p> - -<hr class='c014' /> - -<p class='c001'>Upon a day, early in the morning, Madu came -to the pyre and shrieked very grievously, and ran -away to catch the Policeman who was on tour in -the district.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“The base-born has ruined four rupees’ worth -of charcoal wood,” Madu gasped. “He has also -killed my wife, and he has left a letter which I -cannot read, tied to a pine bough.”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span>In the stiff, formal hand taught in the regimental -school, Sepoy Suket Singh had written—</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Let us be burned together, if anything remain -over, for we have made the necessary prayers. -We have also cursed Madu, and Malak the -brother of Athira—both evil men. Send my -service to the Colonel Sahib Bahadur.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The Policeman looked long and curiously at the -marriage-bed of red and white ashes on which lay, -dull black, the barrel of the Ranger’s gun. He -drove his spurred heel absently into a half-charred -log, and the chattering sparks flew upwards. -“Most extraordinary people,” said the Policeman.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“<em>Whe-w, whew, ouiou</em>,” said the little flames.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The Policeman entered the dry bones of the case, -for the Punjab Government does not approve of -romancing, in his Diary.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But who will pay me those four rupees?” said -Madu.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span> - <h2 class='c004'>THE HEAD OF THE DISTRICT</h2> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c015'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>There’s a convict more in the Central Jail,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Behind the old mud wall;</div> - <div class='line'>There’s a lifter less on the Border trail,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And the Queen’s Peace over all,</div> - <div class='line in24'>Dear boys,</div> - <div class='line in4'>The Queen’s Peace over all.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>For we must bear our leader’s blame,</div> - <div class='line in2'>On us the shame will fall,</div> - <div class='line'>If we lift our hand from a fettered land,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And the Queen’s Peace over all,</div> - <div class='line in24'>Dear boys,</div> - <div class='line in4'>The Queen’s Peace over all!</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in23'><cite>The Running of Shindand.</cite></div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class='c021'>I</h3> -<p class='c019'>The Indus had risen in flood without warning. -Last night it was a fordable shallow; to-night five -miles of raving muddy water parted bank and -caving bank, and the river was still rising under -the moon. A litter borne by six bearded men, all -unused to the work, stopped in the white sand that -bordered the whiter plain.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It’s God’s will,” they said. “We dare not -<span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span>cross to-night, even in a boat. Let us light a fire -and cook food. We be tired men.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>They looked at the litter inquiringly. Within, -the Deputy Commissioner of the Kot-Kumharsen -district lay dying of fever. They had brought -him across country, six fighting-men of a frontier -clan that he had won over to the paths of a moderate -righteousness, when he had broken down at the -foot of their inhospitable hills. And Tallantire, -his assistant, rode with them, heavy-hearted as -heavy-eyed with sorrow and lack of sleep. He -had served under the sick man for three years, and -had learned to love him as men associated in toil -of the hardest learn to love—or hate. Dropping -from his horse, he parted the curtains of the litter -and peered inside.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Orde—Orde, old man, can you hear? We -have to wait till the river goes down, worse luck.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I hear,” returned a dry whisper. “Wait till -the river goes down. I thought we should reach -camp before the dawn. Polly knows. She’ll -meet me.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>One of the litter-men stared across the river and -caught a faint twinkle of light on the far side. He -whispered to Tallantire, “There are his camp-fires, -and his wife. They will cross in the morning, for -they have better boats. Can he live so long?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Tallantire shook his head. Yardley-Orde was -very near to death. What need to vex his soul -<span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>with hopes of a meeting that could not be? The -river gulped at the banks, brought down a cliff of -sand, and snarled the more hungrily. The litter-men -sought for fuel in the waste—dried camel-thorn -and refuse of the camps that had waited at -the ford. Their sword-belts clinked as they moved -softly in the haze of the moonlight, and Tallantire’s -horse coughed to explain that he would like -a blanket.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I’m cold too,” said the voice from the litter. -“I fancy this is the end. Poor Polly!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Tallantire rearranged the blankets; Khoda Dad -Khan, seeing this, stripped off his own heavy-wadded -sheepskin coat and added it to the pile. -“I shall be warm by the fire presently,” said he. -Tallantire took the wasted body of his chief into -his arms and held it against his breast. Perhaps -if they kept him very warm Orde might live to -see his wife once more. If only blind Providence -would send a three-foot fall in the river!</p> - -<p class='c001'>“That’s better,” said Orde faintly. “Sorry to -be a nuisance, but is—is there anything to drink?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>They gave him milk and whiskey, and Tallantire -felt a little warmth against his own breast. -Orde began to mutter.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It isn’t that I mind dying,” he said. “It’s -leaving Polly and the district. Thank God! we -have no children. Dick, you know, I’m dipped—awfully -dipped—debts in my first five years’ service. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>It isn’t much of a pension, but enough for -her. She has her mother at home. Getting there -is the difficulty. And—and—you see, not being -a soldier’s wife——”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“We’ll arrange the passage home, of course,” -said Tallantire quietly.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It’s not nice to think of sending round the -hat; but, good Lord! how many men I lie here -and remember that had to do it! Morten’s dead—he -was of my year. Shaughnessy is dead, and -he had children; I remember he used to read us -their school-letters; what a bore we thought him! -Evans is dead—Kot-Kumharsen killed him! -Ricketts of Myndonie is dead—and I’m going -too. ‘Man that is born of a woman is small potatoes -and few in the hill.’ That reminds me, -Dick; the four Khusru Kheyl villages in our border -want a one-third remittance this spring. That’s -fair; their crops are bad. See that they get it, and -speak to Ferris about the canal. I should like to -have lived till that was finished; it means so much -for the North-Indus villages—but Ferris is an -idle beggar—wake him up. You’ll have charge -of the district till my successor comes. I wish -they would appoint you permanently; you know -the folk. I suppose it will be Bullows, though. -’Good man, but too weak for frontier work; and -he doesn’t understand the priests. The blind priest -at Jagai will bear watching. You’ll find it in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span>my papers,—in the uniform-case, I think. Call -the Khusru Kheyl men up; I’ll hold my last public -audience. Khoda Dad Khan!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The leader of the men sprang to the side of the -litter, his companions following.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Men, I’m dying,” said Orde quickly, in the -vernacular; “and soon there will be no more Orde -Sahib to twist your tails and prevent you from -raiding cattle.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“God forbid this thing!” broke out the -deep bass chorus: “The Sahib is not going to -die.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Yes, he is; and then he will know whether -Mahomed speaks truth, or Moses. But you must -be good men when I am not here. Such of you -as live in our borders must pay your taxes quietly -as before. I have spoken of the villages to be -gently treated this year. Such of you as live in -the hills must refrain from cattle-lifting, and burn -no more thatch, and turn a deaf ear to the voice -of the priests, who, not knowing the strength of -the Government, would lead you into foolish wars, -wherein you will surely die and your crops be -eaten by strangers. And you must not sack any -caravans, and must leave your arms at the police-post -when you come in; as has been your custom, -and my order. And Tallantire Sahib will be with -you, but I do not know who takes my place. I -speak now true talk, for I am as it were already -<span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span>dead, my children,—for though ye be strong men, -ye are children.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“And thou art our father and our mother,” -broke in Khoda Dad Khan with an oath. “What -shall we do, now there is no one to speak for us, -or to teach us to go wisely!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“There remains Tallantire Sahib. Go to him; -he knows your talk and your heart. Keep the -young men quiet, listen to the old men, and obey. -Khoda Dad Khan, take my ring. The watch and -chain go to thy brother. Keep those things for -my sake, and I will speak to whatever God I may -encounter and tell him that the Khusru Kheyl are -good men. Ye have my leave to go.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Khoda Dad Khan, the ring upon his finger, -choked audibly as he caught the well-known formula -that closed an interview. His brother turned -to look across the river. The dawn was breaking, -and a speck of white showed on the dull silver of -the stream. “She comes,” said the man under his -breath. “Can he live for another two hours?” -And he pulled the newly-acquired watch out of -his belt and looked uncomprehendingly at the -dial, as he had seen Englishmen do.</p> - -<p class='c001'>For two hours the bellying sail tacked and blundered -up and down the river, Tallantire still clasping -Orde in his arms, and Khoda Dad Khan -chafing his feet. He spoke now and again of the -district and his wife, but, as the end neared, more -<span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span>frequently of the latter. They hoped he did -not know that she was even then risking her life -in a crazy native boat to regain him. But the -awful foreknowledge of the dying deceived them. -Wrenching himself forward, Orde looked through -the curtains and saw how near was the sail. “That’s -Polly,” he said simply, though his mouth was -wried with agony. “Polly and—the grimmest -practical joke ever played on a man. Dick—you’ll—have—to—explain.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>And an hour later Tallantire met on the bank a -woman in a gingham riding-habit and a sun-hat -who cried out to him for her husband—her boy -and her darling—while Khoda Dad Khan threw -himself face-down on the sand and covered his -eyes.</p> - -<h3 class='c021'>II</h3> - -<p class='c019'>The very simplicity of the notion was its charm. -What more easy to win a reputation for far-seeing -statesmanship, originality, and, above all, deference -to the desires of the people, than by appointing -a child of the country to the rule of that -country? Two hundred millions of the most -loving and grateful folk under Her Majesty’s dominion -would laud the fact, and their praise would -endure for ever. Yet he was indifferent to praise -or blame, as befitted the Very Greatest of All the -Viceroys. His administration was based upon -<span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>principle, and the principle must be enforced in -season and out of season. His pen and tongue -had created the New India, teeming with possibilities—loud-voiced, -insistent, a nation among -nations—all his very own. Wherefore the Very -Greatest of All the Viceroys took another step in -advance, and with it counsel of those who should -have advised him on the appointment of a successor -to Yardley-Orde. There was a gentleman -and a member of the Bengal Civil Service who -had won his place and a university degree to boot -in fair and open competition with the sons of the -English. He was cultured, of the world, and, if -report spoke truly, had wisely and, above all, sympathetically -ruled a crowded district in South-Eastern -Bengal. He had been to England and -charmed many drawing-rooms there. His name, -if the Viceroy recollected aright, was Mr. Grish -Chunder Dé, M. A. In short, did anybody see -any objection to the appointment, always on principle, -of a man of the people to rule the people? -The district in South-Eastern Bengal might with -advantage, he apprehended, pass over to a younger -civilian of Mr. G. C. Dé’s nationality (who had -written a remarkably clever pamphlet on the political -value of sympathy in administration); and -Mr. G. C. Dé could be transferred northward to -Kot-Kumharsen. The Viceroy was averse, on -principle, to interfering with appointments under -<span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>control of the Provincial Governments. He wished -it to be understood that he merely recommended -and advised in this instance. As regarded the -mere question of race, Mr. Grish Chunder Dé -was more English than the English, and yet possessed -of that peculiar sympathy and insight which -the best among the best Service in the world could -only win to at the end of their service.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The stern, black-bearded kings who sit about -the Council-board of India divided on the step, -with the inevitable result of driving the Very -Greatest of All the Viceroys into the borders of -hysteria, and a bewildered obstinacy pathetic as -that of a child.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“The principle is sound enough,” said the -weary-eyed Head of the Red Provinces in which -Kot-Kumharsen lay, for he too held theories. -“The only difficulty is——”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Put the screw on the District officials; brigade -Dé with a very strong Deputy Commissioner on -each side of him; give him the best assistant in -the Province; rub the fear of God into the people -beforehand; and if anything goes wrong, say that -his colleagues didn’t back him up. All these -lovely little experiments recoil on the District-Officer -in the end,” said the Knight of the Drawn -Sword with a truthful brutality that made the -Head of the Red Provinces shudder. And on a -tacit understanding of this kind the transfer was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>accomplished, as quietly as might be for many -reasons.</p> - -<p class='c001'>It is sad to think that what goes for public -opinion in India did not generally see the wisdom -of the Viceroy’s appointment. There were not -lacking indeed hireling organs, notoriously in the -pay of a tyrannous bureaucracy, who more than -hinted that His Excellency was a fool, a dreamer -of dreams, a doctrinaire, and, worst of all, a trifler -with the lives of men. “The Viceroy’s Excellence -Gazette,” published in Calcutta, was at pains -to thank “Our beloved Viceroy for once more -and again thus gloriously vindicating the potentialities -of the Bengali nations for extended executive -and administrative duties in foreign parts -beyond our ken. We do not at all doubt that -our excellent fellow-townsman, Mr. Grish Chunder -Dé, Esq., M. A., will uphold the prestige of -the Bengali, notwithstanding what underhand intrigue -and <em>peshbundi</em> may be set on foot to insidiously -nip his fame and blast his prospects among -the proud civilians, some of which will now have -to serve under a despised native and take orders -too. How will you like that, Misters? We -entreat our beloved Viceroy still to substantiate -himself superiorly to race-prejudice and colour-blindness, -and to allow the flower of this now <em>our</em> -Civil Service all the full pays and allowances -granted to his more fortunate brethren.”</p> - -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span> - <h3 class='c021'>III</h3> -</div> - -<p class='c019'>“When does this man take over charge? I’m -alone just now, and I gather that I’m to stand fast -under him.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Would you have cared for a transfer?” said -Bullows keenly. Then, laying his hand on Tallantire’s -shoulder: “We’re all in the same boat; -don’t desert us. And yet, why the devil should -you stay, if you can get another charge?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It was Orde’s,” said Tallantire simply.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Well, it’s Dé’s now. He’s a Bengali of the -Bengalis, crammed with code and case law; a -beautiful man so far as routine and deskwork go, -and pleasant to talk to. They naturally have always -kept him in his own home district, where all -his sisters and his cousins and his aunts lived, -somewhere south of Dacca. He did no more than -turn the place into a pleasant little family preserve, -allowed his subordinates to do what they liked, and -let everybody have a chance at the shekels. Consequently -he’s immensely popular down there.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I’ve nothing to do with that. How on earth -am I to explain to the district that they are going -to be governed by a Bengali? Do you—does -the Government, I mean—suppose that the -Khusru Kheyl will sit quiet when they once know? -What will the Mahomedan heads of villages say? -How will the police—Muzbi Sikhs and Pathans—how -<span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>will <em>they</em> work under him? We couldn’t -say anything if the Government appointed a -sweeper; but my people will say a good deal, you -know that. It’s a piece of cruel folly!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“My dear boy, I know all that, and more. I’ve -represented it, and have been told that I am exhibiting -‘culpable and puerile prejudice.’ By -Jove, if the Khusru Kheyl don’t exhibit something -worse than that I don’t know the Border! -The chances are that you will have the district -alight on your hands, and I shall have to leave -my work and help you pull through. I needn’t -ask you to stand by the Bengali man in every possible -way. You’ll do that for your own sake.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“For Orde’s. I can’t say that I care twopence -personally.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Don’t be an ass. It’s grievous enough, God -knows, and the Government will know later on; -but that’s no reason for your sulking. <em>You</em> must -try to run the district; <em>you</em> must stand between him -and as much insult as possible; <em>you</em> must show him -the ropes; <em>you</em> must pacify the Khusru Kheyl, and -just warn Curbar of the Police to look out for trouble -by the way. I’m always at the end of a telegraph-wire, -and willing to peril my reputation to -hold the district together. You’ll lose yours, of -course. If you keep things straight, and he isn’t -actually beaten with a stick when he’s on tour, -he’ll get all the credit. If anything goes wrong, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>you’ll be told that you didn’t support him -loyally.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I know what I’ve got to do,” said Tallantire -wearily, “and I’m going to do it. But it’s hard.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“The work is with us, the event is with Allah,—as -Orde used to say when he was more than -usually in hot water.” And Bullows rode away.</p> - -<p class='c001'>That two gentlemen in Her Majesty’s Bengal -Civil Service should thus discuss a third, also in -that service, and a cultured and affable man withal, -seems strange and saddening. Yet listen to the -artless babble of the Blind Mullah of Jagai, the -priest of the Khusru Kheyl, sitting upon a rock -overlooking the Border. Five years before, a -chance-hurled shell from a screw-gun battery had -dashed earth in the face of the Mullah, then urging -a rush of Ghazis against half a dozen British -bayonets. So he became blind, and hated the -English none the less for the little accident. -<a id='corr180.20'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Yardely-Orde'>Yardley-Orde</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_180.20'><ins class='correction' title='Yardely-Orde'>Yardley-Orde</ins></a></span> knew his failing, and had many -times laughed at him therefor.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Dogs you are,” said the Blind Mullah to the -listening tribesmen round the fire. “Whipped dogs! -Because you listened to Orde Sahib and called -him father and behaved as his children, the British -Government have proven how they regard you. -Orde Sahib ye know is dead.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Ai! ai! ai!” said half a dozen voices.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“He was a man. Comes now in his stead, whom -<span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>think ye? A Bengali of Bengal—an eater of fish -from the South.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“A lie!” said Khoda Dad Khan. “And but -for the small matter of thy priesthood, I’d drive -my gun, butt first, down thy throat.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Oho, art thou there, lickspittle of the English? -Go in to-morrow across the Border to pay service -to Orde Sahib’s successor, and thou shalt slip thy -shoes at the tent-door of a Bengali, as thou shalt -hand thy offering to a Bengali’s black fist. This -I know; and in my youth, when a young man -spoke evil to a Mullah holding the doors of -Heaven and Hell, the gun-butt was not rammed -down the Mullah’s gullet. No!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The Blind Mullah hated Khoda Dad Khan with -Afghan hatred, both being rivals for the headship -of the tribe; but the latter was feared for bodily as -the other for spiritual gifts. Khoda Dad Khan -looked at Orde’s ring and grunted, “I go in to-morrow -because I am not an old fool, preaching -war against the English. If the Government, -smitten with madness, have done this, then....”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Then,” croaked the Mullah, “thou wilt take -out the young men and strike at the four villages -within the Border?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Or wring thy neck, black raven of Jehannum, -for a bearer of ill-tidings.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Khoda Dad Khan oiled his long locks with -great care, put on his best Bokhara belt, a new -<span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span>turban-cap and fine green shoes, and accompanied -by a few friends came down from the hills to pay -a visit to the new Deputy Commissioner of Kot-Kumharsen. -Also he bore tribute—four or five -priceless gold mohurs of Akbar’s time in a white -handkerchief. These the Deputy Commissioner -would touch and remit. The little ceremony -used to be a sign that, so far as Khoda Dad Khan’s -personal influence went, the Khusru Kheyl would -be good boys,—till the next time; especially if -Khoda Dad Khan happened to like the new -Deputy Commissioner. In <a id='corr182.12'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Yardely-Orde’s'>Yardley-Orde’s</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_182.12'><ins class='correction' title='Yardely-Orde’s'>Yardley-Orde’s</ins></a></span> consulship -his visit concluded with a sumptuous dinner -and perhaps forbidden liquors; certainly with some -wonderful tales and great good-fellowship. Then -Khoda Dad Khan would swagger back to his hold, -vowing that Orde Sahib was one prince and Tallantire -Sahib another, and that whosoever went a-raiding -into British territory would be flayed alive. On -this occasion he found the Deputy Commissioner’s -tents looking much as usual. Regarding himself -as privileged, he strode through the open door to -confront a suave, portly Bengali in English costume, -writing at a table. Unversed in the elevating -influence of education, and not in the least -caring for university degrees, Khoda Dad Khan -promptly set the man down for a Babu—the -native clerk of the Deputy Commissioner—a -hated and despised animal.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>“Ugh!” said he cheerfully. “Where’s your -master, Babujee?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I am the Deputy Commissioner,” said the -gentleman in English.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Now he overvalued the effects of university degrees, -and stared Khoda Dad Khan in the face. -But if from your earliest infancy you have been -accustomed to look on battle, murder, and sudden -death, if spilt blood affects your nerves as much -as red paint, and, above all, if you have faithfully -believed that the Bengali was the servant of all -Hindustan, and that all Hindustan was vastly inferior -to your own large, lustful self, you can -endure, even though uneducated, a very large -amount of looking over. You can even stare -down a graduate of an Oxford college if the latter -has been born in a hothouse, of stock bred in a -hothouse, and fearing physical pain as some men -fear sin; especially if your opponent’s mother has -frightened him to sleep in his youth with horrible -stories of devils inhabiting Afghanistan, and dismal -legends of the black North. The eyes behind -the gold spectacles sought the floor. Khoda -Dad Khan chuckled, and swung out to find Tallantire -hard by. “Here,” said he roughly, thrusting -the coins before him, “touch and remit. That -answers for <em>my</em> good behaviour. But, O Sahib, -has the Government gone mad to send a black -Bengali dog to us? And am I to pay service to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span>such an one? And are you to work under him? -What does it mean?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It is an order,” said Tallantire. He had expected -something of this kind. “He is a very -clever S-sahib.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“He a Sahib! He’s a <em>kala admi</em>—a black man—unfit -to run at the tail of a potter’s donkey. -All the peoples of the earth have harried Bengal. -It is written. Thou knowest when we of the -North wanted women or plunder whither went we? -To Bengal—where else? What child’s talk is -this of Sahibdom—after Orde Sahib too! Of a -truth the Blind Mullah was right.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“What of him?” asked Tallantire uneasily. -He mistrusted that old man with his dead eyes -and his deadly tongue.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Nay, now, because of the oath that I sware to -Orde Sahib when we watched him die by the river -yonder, I will tell. In the first place, is it true -that the English have set the heel of the Bengali -on their own neck, and that there is no more -English rule in the land?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I am here,” said Tallantire, “and I serve the -Maharanee of England.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“The Mullah said otherwise, and further that -because we loved Orde Sahib the Government sent -us a pig to show that we were dogs who till now -have been held by the strong hand. Also that -they were taking away the white soldiers, that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span>more Hindustanis might come, and that all was -changing.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>This is the worst of ill-considered handling of -a very large country. What looks so feasible in -Calcutta, so right in Bombay, so unassailable in -Madras, is misunderstood by the North and entirely -changes its complexion on the banks of the -Indus. Khoda Dad Khan explained as clearly as he -could that, though he himself intended to be good, -he really could not answer for the more reckless -members of his tribe under the leadership of the -Blind Mullah. They might or they might not give -trouble, but they certainly had no intention whatever -of obeying the new Deputy Commissioner. -Was Tallantire perfectly sure that in the event of -any systematic border-raiding the force in the district -could put it down promptly?</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Tell the Mullah if he talks any more fool’s -talk,” said Tallantire curtly, “that he takes his -men on to certain death, and his tribe to blockade, -trespass-fine, and blood-money. But why do -I talk to one who no longer carries weight in the -counsels of the tribe?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Khoda Dad Khan pocketed that insult. He -had learned something that he much wanted to -know, and returned to his hills to be sarcastically -complimented by the Mullah, whose tongue raging -round the camp-fires was deadlier flame than -ever dung-cake fed.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>IV</p> - -<p class='c001'>Be pleased to consider here for a moment the -unknown district of Kot-Kumharsen. It lay cut -lengthways by the Indus under the line of the -Khusru hills—ramparts of useless earth and tumbled -stone. It was seventy miles long by fifty -broad, maintained a population of something less -than two hundred thousand, and paid taxes to the -extent of forty thousand pounds a year on an area -that was by rather more than half sheer, hopeless -waste. The cultivators were not gentle people, -the miners for salt were less gentle still, and the -cattle-breeders least gentle of all. A police-post in -the top right-hand corner and a tiny mud fort in -the top left-hand corner prevented as much salt-smuggling -and cattle-lifting as the influence of the -civilians could not put down; and in the bottom -right-hand corner lay Jumala, the district headquarters—a -pitiful knot of lime-washed barns -facetiously rented as houses, reeking with frontier -fever, leaking in the rain, and ovens in the -summer.</p> - -<p class='c001'>It was to this place that Grish Chunder Dé was -travelling, there formally to take over charge of -the district. But the news of his coming had gone -before. Bengalis were as scarce as poodles among -the simple Borderers, who cut each other’s heads -open with their long spades and worshipped impartially -<span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>at Hindu and Mahomedan shrines. They -crowded to see him, pointing at him, and diversely -comparing him to a gravid milch-buffalo, or a -broken-down horse, as their limited range of metaphor -prompted. They laughed at his police-guard, -and wished to know how long the burly Sikhs were -going to lead Bengali apes. They inquired whether -he had brought his women with him, and advised -him explicitly not to tamper with theirs. -It remained for a wrinkled hag by the roadside to -slap her lean breasts as he passed, crying, “I have -suckled six that could have eaten six thousand of -<em>him</em>. The Government shot them, and made this -That a king!” Whereat a blue-turbaned huge-boned -plough-mender shouted, “Have hope, -mother o’ mine! He may yet go the way of thy -wastrels.” And the children, the little brown puff-balls, -regarded curiously. It was generally a good -thing for infancy to stray into Orde Sahib’s tent, -where copper coins were to be won for the mere -wishing, and tales of the most authentic, such as -even their mothers knew but the first half of. No! -This fat black man could never tell them how Pir -Prith hauled the eye-teeth out of ten devils; how -the big stones came to lie all in a row on top of -the Khusru hills, and what happened if you shouted -through the village-gate to the gray wolf at even, -“Badl Khas is dead.” Meantime Grish Chunder -Dé talked hastily and much to Tallantire, after the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>manner of those who are “more English than the -English,”—of Oxford and “home,” with much curious -book-knowledge of bump-suppers, cricket-matches, -hunting-runs, and other unholy sports of -the alien. “We must get these fellows in hand,” -he said once or twice uneasily; “get them well in -hand, and drive them on a tight rein. No use, -you know, being slack with your district.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>And a moment later Tallantire heard Debendra -Nath Dé, who brotherliwise had followed his kinsman’s -fortune and hoped for the shadow of his -protection as a pleader, whisper in Bengali, -“Better are dried fish at Dacca than drawn swords -at Delhi. Brother of mine, these men are devils, -as our mother said. And you will always have to -ride upon a horse!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>That night there was a public audience in a -broken-down little town thirty miles from Jumala, -when the new Deputy Commissioner, in reply to -the greetings of the subordinate native officials, -delivered a speech. It was a carefully thought out -speech, which would have been very valuable had -not his third sentence begun with three innocent -words, “<em>Hamara hookum hai</em>—It is my order.” -Then there was a laugh, clear and bell-like, from -the back of the big tent, where a few border landholders -sat, and the laugh grew and scorn mingled -with it, and the lean, keen face of Debendra Nath -Dé paled, and Grish Chunder, turning to Tallantire, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span>spake: “<em>You</em>—you put up this arrangement.” -Upon that instant the noise of hoofs rang without, -and there entered Curbar, the District Superintendent -of Police, sweating and dusty. The -State had tossed him into a corner of the province -for seventeen weary years, there to check smuggling -of salt, and to hope for promotion that never came. -He had forgotten how to keep his white uniform -clean, had screwed rusty spurs into patent-leather -shoes, and clothed his head indifferently with a -helmet or a turban. Soured, old, worn with -heat and cold, he waited till he should be -entitled to sufficient pension to keep him from -starving.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Tallantire,” said he, disregarding Grish -Chunder Dé, “come outside. I want to speak to -you.” They withdrew. “It’s this,” continued -Curbar. “The Khusru Kheyl have rushed and -cut up half a dozen of the coolies on Ferris’s new -canal-embankment; killed a couple of men and -carried off a woman. I wouldn’t trouble you -about that—Ferris is after them and Hugonin, -my assistant, with ten mounted police. But that’s -only the beginning, I fancy. Their fires are out -on the Hassan Ardeb heights, and unless we’re -pretty quick there’ll be a flare-up all along our -Border. They are sure to raid the four Khusru -villages on our side of the line; there’s been bad -blood between them for years; and you know the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span>Blind Mullah has been preaching a holy war since -Orde went out. What’s your notion?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Damn!” said Tallantire thoughtfully. -“They’ve begun quick. Well, it seems to me -I’d better ride off to Fort Ziar and get what men -I can there to picket among the lowland villages, -if it’s not too late. Tommy Dodd commands at -Fort Ziar, I think. Ferris and Hugonin ought to -teach the canal-thieves a lesson, and——No, we -can’t have the Head of the Police ostentatiously -guarding the Treasury. You go back to the canal. -I’ll wire Bullows to come into Jumala with a -strong police-guard, and sit on the Treasury. They -won’t touch the place, but it looks well.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I—I—I insist upon knowing what this -means,” said the voice of the Deputy Commissioner, -who had followed the speakers.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Oh!” said Curbar, who, being in the Police, -could not understand that fifteen years of education -must, on principle, change the Bengali into -a Briton. “There has been a fight on the Border, -and heaps of men are killed. There’s going -to be another fight, and heaps more will be -killed.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“What for?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Because the teeming millions of this district -don’t exactly approve of you, and think that under -your benign rule they are going to have a -good time. It strikes me that you had better -<span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>make arrangements. I act, as you know, by your -orders. What do you advise?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I—I take you all to witness that I have not -yet assumed charge of the district,” stammered -the Deputy Commissioner, not in the tones of the -“more English.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Ah, I thought so. Well, as I was saying, -Tallantire, your plan is sound. Carry it out. Do -you want an escort?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“No; only a decent horse. But how about -wiring to headquarters?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I fancy, from the colour of his cheeks, that -your superior officer will send some wonderful -telegrams before the night’s over. Let him do -that, and we shall have half the troops of the -province coming up to see what’s the trouble. -Well, run along, and take care of yourself—the -Khusru Kheyl jab upwards from below, remember. -Ho! Mir Khan, give Tallantire Sahib the -best of the horses, and tell five men to ride to -Jumala with the Deputy Commissioner Sahib -Bahadur. There is a hurry toward.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>There was; and it was not in the least bettered -by Debendra Nath Dé clinging to a policeman’s -bridle and demanding the shortest, the very shortest -way to Jumala. Now originality is fatal to -the Bengali. Debendra Nath should have stayed -with his brother, who rode steadfastly for Jumala -on the railway-line, thanking gods entirely unknown -<span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>to the most catholic of universities that -he had not taken charge of the district, and could -still—happy resource of a fertile race!—fall sick.</p> - -<p class='c001'>And I grieve to say that when he reached his -goal two policemen, not devoid of rude wit, who -had been conferring together as they bumped in -their saddles, arranged an entertainment for his -behoof. It consisted of first one and then the -other entering his room with prodigious details -of war, the massing of bloodthirsty and devilish -tribes, and the burning of towns. It was almost -as good, said these scamps, as riding with Curbar -after evasive Afghans. Each invention kept the -hearer at work for half an hour on telegrams which -the sack of Delhi would hardly have justified. To -every power that could move a bayonet or transfer -a terrified man, Grish Chunder Dé appealed telegraphically. -He was alone, his assistants had -fled, and in truth he had not taken over charge -of the district. Had the telegrams been despatched -many things would have occurred; but -since the only signaller in Jumala had gone to -bed, and the station-master, after one look at the -tremendous pile of paper, discovered that railway -regulations forbade the forwarding of imperial -messages, policemen Ram Singh and Nihal Singh -were fain to turn the stuff into a pillow and slept -on it very comfortably.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Tallantire drove his spurs into a rampant skewbald -<span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span>stallion with china-blue eyes, and settled -himself for the forty-mile ride to Fort Ziar. -Knowing his district blindfold, he wasted no time -hunting for short cuts, but headed across the richer -grazing-ground to the ford where Orde had died -and been buried. The dusty ground deadened -the noise of his horse’s hoofs, the moon threw his -shadow, a restless goblin, before him, and the -heavy dew drenched him to the skin. Hillock, -scrub that brushed against the horse’s belly, unmetalled -road where the whip-like foliage of the -tamarisks lashed his forehead, illimitable levels of -lowland furred with bent and speckled with drowsing -cattle, waste, and hillock anew, dragged themselves -past, and the skewbald was labouring in -the deep sand of the Indus-ford. Tallantire was -conscious of no distinct thought till the nose of -the dawdling ferry-boat grounded on the farther -side, and his horse shied snorting at the white -headstone of Orde’s grave. Then he uncovered, -and shouted that the dead might hear, “They’re -out, old man! Wish me luck.” In the chill of -the dawn he was hammering with a stirrup-iron -at the gate of Fort Ziar, where fifty sabres of that -tattered regiment, the Belooch Beshaklis, were -supposed to guard Her Majesty’s interests along -a few hundred miles of Border. This particular -fort was commanded by a subaltern, who, born -of the ancient family of the Derouletts, naturally -<span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>answered to the name of Tommy Dodd. Him -Tallantire found robed in a sheepskin coat, shaking -with fever like an aspen, and trying to read -the native apothecary’s list of invalids.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“So you’ve come, too,” said he. “Well, we’re -all sick here, and I don’t think I can horse thirty -men; but we’re bub-bub-bub-blessed willing. -Stop, does this impress you as a trap or a lie?” -He tossed a scrap of paper to Tallantire, on which -was written painfully in crabbed Gurmukhi, “We -cannot hold young horses. They will feed after -the moon goes down in the four border villages -issuing from the Jagai pass on the next night.” -Then in English round hand—“Your sincere -friend.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Good man!” said Tallantire. “That’s Khoda -Dad Khan’s work, I know. It’s the only piece of -English he could ever keep in his head, and he is -immensely proud of it. He is playing against the -Blind Mullah for his own hand—the treacherous -young ruffian!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Don’t know the politics of the Khusru Kheyl, -but if you’re satisfied, I am. That was pitched in -over the gate-head last night, and I thought we -might pull ourselves together and see what was -on. Oh, but we’re sick with fever here, and no -mistake! Is this going to be a big business, think -you?” said Tommy Dodd.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Tallantire gave him briefly the outlines of the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span>case, and Tommy Dodd whistled and shook with -fever alternately. That day he devoted to strategy, -the art of war, and the enlivenment of the invalids, -till at dusk there stood ready forty-two troopers, -lean, worn, and dishevelled, whom Tommy Dodd -surveyed with pride, and addressed thus: “O -men! If you die you will go to Hell. Therefore -endeavour to keep alive. But if you go to Hell -that place cannot be hotter than this place, and we -are not told that we shall there suffer from fever. -Consequently be not afraid of dying. File out -there!” They grinned, and went.</p> - -<p class='c001'>V</p> - -<p class='c001'>It will be long ere the Khusru Kheyl forget -their night attack on the lowland villages. The -Mullah had promised an easy victory and unlimited -plunder; but behold, armed troopers of -the Queen had risen out of the very earth, cutting, -slashing, and riding down under the stars, so that -no man knew where to turn, and all feared that -they had brought an army about their ears, and -ran back to the hills. In the panic of that flight -more men were seen to drop from wounds inflicted -by an Afghan knife jabbed upwards, and yet more -from long-range carbine-fire. Then there rose a -cry of treachery, and when they reached their own -guarded heights, they had left, with some forty -<span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>dead and sixty wounded, all their confidence in -the Blind Mullah on the plains below. They -clamoured, swore, and argued round the fires; -the women wailing for the lost, and the Mullah -shrieking curses on the returned.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Then Khoda Dad Khan, eloquent and unbreathed, -for he had taken no part in the fight, -rose to improve the occasion. He pointed out -that the tribe owed every item of its present misfortune -to the Blind Mullah, who had lied in every -possible particular and talked them into a trap. It -was undoubtedly an insult that a Bengali, the son -of a Bengali, should presume to administer the -Border, but that fact did not, as the Mullah pretended, -herald a general time of license and lifting; -and the inexplicable madness of the English had -not in the least impaired their power of guarding -their marches. On the contrary, the baffled and -out-generalled tribe would now, just when their -food-stock was lowest, be blockaded from any -trade with Hindustan until they had sent hostages -for good behaviour, paid compensation for disturbance, -and blood-money at the rate of thirty-six -English pounds per head for every villager that -they might have slain. “And ye know that those -lowland dogs will make oath that we have slain -scores. Will the Mullah pay the fines or must we -sell our guns?” A low growl ran round the fires. -“Now, seeing that all this is the Mullah’s work, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>and that we have gained nothing but promises of -Paradise thereby, it is in my heart that we of the -Khusru Kheyl lack a shrine whereat to pray. We -are weakened, and henceforth how shall we dare to -cross into the Madar Kheyl border, as has been -our custom, to kneel to Pir Sajji’s tomb? The -Madar men will fall upon us, and rightly. But -our Mullah is a holy man. He has helped two -score of us into Paradise this night. Let him -therefore accompany his flock, and we will build -over his body a dome of the blue tiles of Mooltan, -and burn lamps at his feet every Friday night. He -shall be a saint; we shall have a shrine; and there -our women shall pray for fresh seed to fill the gaps -in our fighting-tale. How think you?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>A grim chuckle followed the suggestion, and -the soft <em>wheep, wheep</em> of unscabbarded knives followed -the chuckle. It was an excellent notion, -and met a long-felt want of the tribe. The Mullah -sprang to his feet, glaring with withered eyeballs -at the drawn death he could not see, and calling -down the curses of God and Mahomed on the -tribe. Then began a game of blind man’s buff -round and between the fires, whereof Khuruk Shah, -the tribal poet, has sung in verse that will not die.</p> - -<p class='c001'>They tickled him gently under the armpit with -the knife-point. He leaped aside screaming, only -to feel a cold blade drawn lightly over the back -of his neck, or a rifle-muzzle rubbing his beard. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>He called on his adherents to aid him, but most -of these lay dead on the plains, for Khoda Dad -Khan had been at some pains to arrange their decease. -Men described to him the glories of the -shrine they would build, and the little children, -clapping their hands, cried, “Run, Mullah, run! -There’s a man behind you!” In the end, when -the sport wearied, Khoda Dad Khan’s brother sent -a knife home between his ribs. “Wherefore,” -said Khoda Dad Khan with charming simplicity, -“I am now Chief of the Khusru Kheyl!” No -man gainsaid him; and they all went to sleep very -stiff and sore.</p> - -<p class='c001'>On the plain below Tommy Dodd was lecturing -on the beauties of a cavalry charge by night, and -Tallantire, bowed on his saddle, was gasping hysterically -because there was a sword dangling from -his wrist flecked with the blood of the Khusru -Kheyl, the tribe that Orde had kept in leash so -well. When a Rajpoot trooper pointed out that -the skewbald’s right ear had been taken off at the -root by some blind slash of its unskilled rider, -Tallantire broke down altogether, and laughed -and sobbed till Tommy Dodd made him lie down -and rest.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“We must wait about till the morning,” said he. -“I wired to the Colonel, just before we left, to send -a wing of the Beshaklis after us. He’ll be furious -with me for monopolizing the fun, though. Those -<span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>beggars in the hills won’t give us any more -trouble.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Then tell the Beshaklis to go on and see what -has happened to Curbar on the canal. We must -patrol the whole line of the Border. You’re quite -sure, Tommy, that—that stuff was—was only -the skewbald’s ear?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Oh, quite,” said Tommy. “You just missed -cutting off his head. <em>I</em> saw you when we went -into the mess. Sleep, old man.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Noon brought two squadrons of Beshaklis and -a knot of furious brother officers demanding the -court-martial of Tommy Dodd for “spoiling the -picnic,” and a gallop across country to the canal-works -where Ferris, Curbar, and Hugonin were -haranguing the terror-stricken coolies on the enormity -of abandoning good work and high pay, -merely because half a dozen of their fellows had -been cut down. The sight of a troop of the Beshaklis -restored wavering confidence, and the police-hunted -section of the Khusru Kheyl had the -joy of watching the canal-bank humming with life -as usual, while such of their men as had taken -refuge in the water-courses and ravines were being -driven out by the troopers. By sundown began -the remorseless patrol of the Border by police and -trooper, most like the cow-boys’ eternal ride round -restless cattle.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Now,” said Khoda Dad Khan to his fellows, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>pointing out a line of twinkling fires below, “ye -may see how far the old order changes. After -their horse will come the little devil-guns that they -can drag up to the tops of the hills, and, for aught -I know, to the clouds when we crown the hills. -If the tribe-council thinks good, I will go to Tallantire -Sahib—who loves me—and see if I can -stave off at least the blockade. Do I speak for -the tribe?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Ay, speak for the tribe in God’s name. How -those accursed fires wink! Do the English send -their troops on the wire—or is this the work of -the Bengali?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>As Khoda Dad Khan went down the hill he -was delayed by an interview with a hard-pressed -tribesman, which caused him to return hastily for -something he had forgotten. Then, handing -himself over to the two troopers who had been -chasing his friend, he claimed escort to Tallantire -Sahib, then with Bullows at Jumala. The Border -was safe, and the time for reasons in writing had -begun.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Thank Heaven,” said Bullows, “that the -trouble came at once. Of course we can never -put down the reason in black and white, but all -India will understand. And it is better to have a -sharp, short outbreak than five years of impotent -administration inside the Border. It costs less. -Grish Chunder Dé has reported himself sick, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>has been transferred to his own province without -any sort of reprimand. He was strong on not -having taken over the district.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Of course,” said Tallantire bitterly. “Well, -what am I supposed to have done that was -wrong?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Oh, you will be told that you exceeded all -your powers, and should have reported, and written, -and advised for three weeks until the Khusru -Kheyl could really come down in force. But I -don’t think the authorities will dare to make a fuss -about it. They’ve had their lesson. Have you -seen Curbar’s version of the affair? He can’t -write a report, but he can speak the truth.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“What’s the use of the truth? He’d much -better tear up the report. I’m sick and heart-broken -over it all. It was so utterly unnecessary—except -in that it rid us of the Babu.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Entered unabashed Khoda Dad Khan, a stuffed -forage-net in his hand, and the troopers behind him.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“May you never be tired!” said he cheerily. -“Well, Sahibs, that was a good fight, and Naim -Shah’s mother is in debt to you, Tallantire Sahib. -A clean cut, they tell me, through jaw, wadded -coat, and deep into the collar-bone. Well done! -But I speak for the tribe. There has been a fault—a -great fault. Thou knowest that I and mine, -Tallantire Sahib, kept the oath we sware to Orde -Sahib on the banks of the Indus.”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>“As an Afghan keeps his knife—sharp on one -side, blunt on the other,” said Tallantire.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“The better swing in the blow, then. But I -speak God’s truth. Only the Blind Mullah carried -the young men on the tip of his tongue, and -said that there was no more Border-law because a -Bengali had been sent, and we need not fear the -English at all. So they came down to avenge -that insult and get plunder. Ye know what befell, -and how far I helped. Now five score of us -are dead or wounded, and we are all shamed and -sorry, and desire no further war. Moreover, that -ye may better listen to us, we have taken off the -head of the Blind Mullah, whose evil counsels -have led us to folly. I bring it for proof,”—and -he heaved on the floor the head. “He will give -no more trouble, for <em>I</em> am chief now, and so I sit -in a higher place at all audiences. Yet there is -an offset to this head. That was another fault. -One of the men found that black Bengali beast, -through whom this trouble arose, wandering on -horseback and weeping. Reflecting that he had -caused loss of much good life, Alla Dad Khan, -whom, if you choose, I will to-morrow shoot, -whipped off this head, and I bring it to you to -cover your shame, that ye may bury it. See, no -man kept the spectacles, though they were of gold.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Slowly rolled to Tallantire’s feet the crop-haired -head of a spectacled Bengali gentleman, open-eyed, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>open-mouthed—the head of Terror incarnate. -Bullows bent down. “Yet another blood-fine -and a heavy one, Khoda Dad Khan, for this is -the head of Debendra Nath, the man’s brother. -The Babu is safe long since. All but the fools of -the Khusru Kheyl know that.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Well, I care not for carrion. Quick meat for -me. The thing was under our hills asking the -road to Jumala, and Alla Dad Khan showed him -the road to Jehannum, being, as thou sayest, but -a fool. Remains now what the Government will -do to us. As to the blockade——”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Who art thou, seller of dog’s flesh,” thundered -Tallantire, “to speak of terms and treaties? Get -hence to the hills—go and wait there, starving, -till it shall please the Government to call thy people -out for punishment—children and fools that -ye be! Count your dead, and be still. Rest assured -that the Government will send you a <em>man</em>!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Ay,” returned Khoda Dad Khan, “for we also -be men.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>As he looked Tallantire between the eyes, he -added, “And by God, Sahib, may thou be that -man!”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span> - <h2 class='c004'>THE AMIR’S HOMILY</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='small'>Copyright, 1891, by Macmillan & Co.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c005'>His Royal Highness Abdur Rahman, Amir of -Afghanistan, G. C. S. I., and trusted ally of Her -Imperial Majesty the Queen of England and Empress -of India, is a gentleman for whom all right-thinking -people should have a profound regard. -Like most other rulers, he governs not as he would, -but as he can, and the mantle of his authority covers -the most turbulent race under the stars. To -the Afghan neither life, property, law, nor kingship -are sacred when his own lusts prompt him to -rebel. He is a thief by instinct, a murderer by -heredity and training, and frankly and bestially immoral -by all three. None the less he has his own -crooked notions of honour, and his character is -fascinating to study. On occasion he will fight -without reason given till he is hacked in pieces; -on other occasions he will refuse to show fight till -he is driven into a corner. Herein he is as unaccountable -as the gray wolf, who is his blood-brother.</p> - -<p class='c001'>And these men His Highness rules by the only -weapon that they understand—the fear of death, -which among some Orientals is the beginning of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>wisdom. Some say that the Amir’s authority -reaches no farther than a rifle-bullet can range; but -as none are quite certain when their king may be -in their midst, and as he alone holds every one of -the threads of Government, his respect is increased -among men. Gholam Hyder, the Commander-in-chief -of the Afghan army, is feared reasonably, -for he can impale; all Kabul city fears the Governor -of Kabul, who has power of life and death -through all the wards; but the Amir of Afghanistan, -though outlying tribes pretend otherwise when -his back is turned, is dreaded beyond chief and -governor together. His word is red law; by the -gust of his passion falls the leaf of man’s life, and -his favour is terrible. He has suffered many things, -and been a hunted fugitive before he came to the -throne, and he understands all the classes of his -people. By the custom of the East any man or -woman having a complaint to make, or an enemy -against whom to be avenged, has the right of -speaking face to face with the king at the daily -public audience. This is personal government, as -it was in the days of Harun al Raschid of blessed -memory, whose times exist still and will exist long -after the English have passed away.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The privilege of open speech is of course exercised -at certain personal risk. The king may be -pleased, and raise the speaker to honour for that -very bluntness of speech which three minutes later -<span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>brings a too imitative petitioner to the edge of the -ever-ready blade. And the people love to have it -so, for it is their right.</p> - -<p class='c001'>It happened upon a day in Kabul that the Amir -chose to do his day’s work in the Baber Gardens, -which lie a short distance from the city of Kabul. -A light table stood before him, and round the table -in the open air were grouped generals and finance -ministers according to their degree. The Court -and the long tail of feudal chiefs—men of blood, -fed and cowed by blood—stood in an irregular -semicircle round the table, and the wind from the -Kabul orchards blew among them. All day long -sweating couriers dashed in with letters from the -outlying districts with rumours of rebellion, intrigue, -famine, failure of payments, or announcements -of treasure on the road; and all day long -the Amir would read the dockets, and pass such -of these as were less private to the officials whom -they directly concerned, or call up a waiting chief -for a word of explanation. It is well to speak -clearly to the ruler of Afghanistan. Then the -grim head, under the black astrachan cap with the -diamond star in front, would nod gravely, and that -chief would return to his fellows. Once that afternoon -a woman clamoured for divorce against her -husband, who was bald, and the Amir, hearing -both sides of the case, bade her pour curds over -the bare scalp, and lick them off, that the hair -<span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>might grow again, and she be contented. Here -the Court laughed, and the woman withdrew, cursing -her king under her breath.</p> - -<p class='c001'>But when twilight was falling, and the order -of the Court was a little relaxed, there came before -the king, in custody, a trembling, haggard -wretch, sore with much buffeting, but of stout -enough build, who had stolen three rupees—of -such small matters does His Highness take cognisance.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Why did you steal?” said he; and when the -king asks questions they do themselves service -who answer directly.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I was poor, and no one gave. Hungry, and -there was no food.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Why did you not work?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I could find no work, Protector of the Poor, -and I was starving.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“You lie. You stole for drink, for lust, for -idleness, for anything but hunger, since any man -who will may find work and daily bread.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The prisoner dropped his eyes. He had attended -the Court before, and he knew the ring of -the death-tone.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Any man may get work. Who knows this -so well as I do? for I too have been hungered—not -like you, bastard scum, but as any honest -man may be, by the turn of Fate and the will of -God.”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>Growing warm, the Amir turned to his nobles -all arow, and thrust the hilt of his sabre aside with -his elbow.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“You have heard this Son of Lies? Hear me -tell a true tale. I also was once starved, and -tightened my belt on the sharp belly-pinch. Nor -was I alone, for with me was another, who did not -fail me in my evil days, when I was hunted, before -ever I came to this throne. And wandering like -a houseless dog by Kandahar, my money melted, -melted, melted till——” He flung out a bare -palm before the audience. “And day upon day, -faint and sick, I went back to that one who waited, -and God knows how we lived, till on a day I took -our best <em>lihaf</em>—silk it was, fine work of Iran, such -as no needle now works, warm, and a coverlet for -two, and all that we had. I brought it to a money-lender -in a by-lane, and I asked for three rupees -upon it. He said to me, who am now the King, -‘You are a thief. This is worth three hundred.’ -‘I am no thief,’ I answered, ‘but a prince of good -blood, and I am hungry.’—‘Prince of wandering -beggars,’ said that money-lender, ‘I have no -money with me, but go to my house with my -clerk and he will give you two rupees eight annas, -for that is all I will lend.’ So I went with the -clerk to the house, and we talked on the way, and -he gave me the money. We lived on it till it -was spent, and we fared hard. And then that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span>clerk said, being a young man of a good heart, -‘Surely the money-lender will lend yet more on -that <em>lihaf</em>,’ and he offered me two rupees. These -I refused, saying, ‘Nay; but get me some work.’ -And he got me work, and I, even I, Abdur Rahman, -Amir of Afghanistan, wrought day by day -as a coolie, bearing burdens, and labouring of my -hands, receiving four annas wage a day for my -sweat and backache. But he, this bastard son of -naught, must steal! For a year and four months -I worked, and none dare say that I lie, for I have -a witness, even that clerk who is now my friend.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Then there rose in his place among the Sirdars -and the nobles one clad in silk, who folded his -hands and said, “This is the truth of God, for I, -who, by the favour of God and the Amir, am such -as you know, was once clerk to that money-lender.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>There was a pause, and the Amir cried hoarsely -to the prisoner, throwing scorn upon him, till he -ended with the dread, “<em>Dar arid</em>,” which clinches -justice.</p> - -<p class='c001'>So they led the thief away, and the whole of -him was seen no more together; and the Court -rustled out of its silence, whispering, “Before God -and the Prophet, but this is a man!”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_210'>210</span> - <h2 class='c004'>AT TWENTY-TWO</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>Narrow as the womb, deep as the Pit, and dark as the heart -of a man.—<cite>Sonthal Miner’s Proverb.</cite></p> - -<p class='c005'>“A weaver went out to reap, but stayed to unravel -the corn-stalks. Ha! Ha! Ha! Is there -any sense in a weaver?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Janki Meah glared at Kundoo, but, as Janki -Meah was blind, Kundoo was not impressed. He -had come to argue with Janki Meah, and, if -chance favoured, to make love to the old man’s -pretty young wife.</p> - -<p class='c001'>This was Kundoo’s grievance, and he spoke in -the name of all the five men who, with Janki -Meah, composed the gang in Number Seven gallery -of Twenty-Two. Janki Meah had been blind -for the thirty years during which he had served -the Jimahari Collieries with pick and crowbar. -All through those thirty years he had regularly, -every morning before going down, drawn from -the overseer his allowance of lamp-oil—just as -if he had been an eyed miner. What Kundoo’s -gang resented, as hundreds of gangs had resented -before, was Janki Meah’s selfishness. He would -<span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>not add the oil to the common stock of his gang, -but would save and sell it.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I knew these workings before you were born,” -Janki Meah used to reply: “I don’t want the -light to get my coal out by, and I am not going -to help you. The oil is mine, and I intend to -keep it.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>A strange man in many ways was Janki Meah, -the white-haired, hot-tempered, sightless weaver -who had turned pitman. All day long—except -Sundays and Mondays, when he was usually -drunk—he worked in the Twenty-Two shaft of -the Jimahari Colliery as cleverly as a man with -all the senses. At evening he went up in the -great steam-hauled cage to the pit-bank, and there -called for his pony—a rusty, coal-dusty beast, -nearly as old as Janki Meah. The pony would -come to his side, and Janki Meah would clamber -on to its back and be taken at once to the plot of -land which he, like the other miners, received from -the Jimahari Company. The pony knew that -place, and when, after six years, the Company -changed all the allotments to prevent the miners -from acquiring proprietary rights, Janki Meah -represented, with tears in his eyes, that were his -holding shifted, he would never be able to find his -way to the new one. “My horse only knows -that place,” pleaded Janki Meah, and so he was -allowed to keep his land.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>On the strength of this concession and his accumulated -oil-savings, Janki Meah took a second -wife—a girl of the Jolaha main stock of the -Meahs, and singularly beautiful. Janki Meah -could not see her beauty; wherefore he took her -on trust, and forbade her to go down the pit. He -had not worked for thirty years in the dark without -knowing that the pit was no place for pretty -women. He loaded her with ornaments—not -brass or pewter, but real silver ones—and she rewarded -him by flirting outrageously with Kundoo -of Number Seven gallery gang. Kundoo was -really the gang-head, but Janki Meah insisted -upon all the work being entered in his own name, -and chose the men that he worked with. Custom—stronger -even than the Jimahari Company—dictated -that Janki, by right of his years, should -manage these things, and should, also, work despite -his blindness. In Indian mines, where they -cut into the solid coal with the pick and clear it out -from floor to ceiling, he could come to no great -harm. At Home, where they undercut the coal -and bring it down in crashing avalanches from the -roof, he would never have been allowed to set foot -in a pit. He was not a popular man, because of -his oil-savings; but all the gangs admitted that -Janki knew all the <em>khads</em>, or workings, that had ever -been sunk or worked since the Jimahari Company -first started operations on the Tarachunda fields.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>Pretty little Unda only knew that her old husband -was a fool who could be managed. She took -no interest in the collieries except in so far as they -swallowed up Kundoo five days out of the seven, -and covered him with coal-dust. Kundoo was a -great workman, and did his best not to get drunk, -because, when he had saved forty rupees, Unda -was to steal everything that she could find in Janki’s -house and run with Kundoo to a land where -there were no mines, and every one kept three fat -bullocks and a milch-buffalo. While this scheme -ripened it was his custom to drop in upon Janki -and worry him about the oil-savings. Unda sat -in a corner and nodded approval. On the night -when Kundoo had quoted that objectionable proverb -about weavers, Janki grew angry.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Listen, you pig,” said he, “blind I am, and -old I am, but, before ever you were born, I was -gray among the coal. Even in the days when -the Twenty-Two <em>khad</em> was unsunk and there -were not two thousand men here, I was known -to have all knowledge of the pits. What <em>khad</em> -is there that I do not know, from the bottom -of the shaft to the end of the last drive? Is -it the Baromba <em>khad</em>, the oldest, or the Twenty-Two -where Tibu’s gallery runs up to Number -Five?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Hear the old fool talk!” said Kundoo, nodding -to Unda. “No gallery of Twenty-Two will -<span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>cut into Five before the end of the Rains. We -have a month’s solid coal before us. The Babuji -says so.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Babuji! Pigji! Dogji! What do these fat -slugs from Calcutta know? He draws and draws -and draws, and talks and talks and talks, and his -maps are all wrong. I, Janki, know that this is -so. When a man has been shut up in the dark -for thirty years, God gives him knowledge. The -old gallery that Tibu’s gang made is not six feet -from Number Five.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Without doubt God gives the blind knowledge,” -said Kundoo, with a look at Unda. “Let it -be as you say. I, for my part, do not know where -lies the gallery of Tibu’s gang, but <em>I</em> am not a -withered monkey who needs oil to grease his -joints with.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Kundoo swung out of the hut laughing, and -Unda giggled. Janki turned his sightless eyes -toward his wife and swore. “I have land, and I -have sold a great deal of lamp-oil,” mused Janki; -“but I was a fool to marry this child.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>A week later the Rains set in with a vengeance, -and the gangs paddled about in coal-slush at the -pit-banks. Then the big mine-pumps were made -ready, and the Manager of the Colliery ploughed -through the wet towards the Tarachunda River -swelling between its soppy banks. “Lord send -that this beastly beck doesn’t misbehave,” said the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span>Manager piously, and he went to take counsel with -his Assistant about the pumps.</p> - -<p class='c001'>But the Tarachunda misbehaved very much indeed. -After a fall of three inches of rain in an -hour it was obliged to do something. It topped -its bank and joined the flood-water that was hemmed -between two low hills just where the embankment -of the Colliery main line crossed. When a large -part of a rain-fed river, and a few acres of flood-water, -make a dead set for a nine-foot culvert, the -culvert may spout its finest, but the water cannot -<em>all</em> get out. The Manager pranced upon one leg -with excitement, and his language was improper.</p> - -<p class='c001'>He had reason to swear, because he knew that -one inch of water on land meant a pressure of one -hundred tons to the acre; and here were about five -feet of water forming, behind the railway embankment, -over the shallower workings of Twenty-Two. -You must understand that, in a coal-mine, the -coal nearest the surface is worked first from the -central shaft. That is to say, the miners may clear -out the stuff to within ten, twenty, or thirty feet of -the surface, and, when all is worked out, leave -only a skin of earth upheld by some few pillars of -coal. In a deep mine where they know that they -have any amount of material at hand, men prefer -to get all their mineral out at one shaft, rather than -make a number of little holes to tap the comparatively -unimportant surface-coal.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span>And the Manager watched the flood.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The culvert spouted a nine-foot gush; but the -water still formed, and word was sent to clear the -men out of <a id='corr216.4'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Twenty-two'>Twenty-Two</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_216.4'><ins class='correction' title='Twenty-two'>Twenty-Two</ins></a></span>. The cages came up -crammed and crammed again with the men nearest -the pit-eye, as they call the place where you -can see daylight from the bottom of the main shaft. -All away and away up the long black galleries the -flare-lamps were winking and dancing like so many -fireflies, and the men and the women waited for -the clanking, rattling, thundering cages to come -down and fly up again. But the out-workings -were very far off, and word could not be passed -quickly, though the heads of the gangs and the -Assistant shouted and swore and tramped and -stumbled. The Manager kept one eye on the -great troubled pool behind the embankment, and -prayed that the culvert would give way and let -the water through in time. With the other eye -he watched the cages come up and saw the headmen -counting the roll of the gangs. With all his -heart and soul he swore at the winder who controlled -the iron drum that wound up the wire rope -on which hung the cages.</p> - -<p class='c001'>In a little time there was a down-draw in the -water behind the embankment—a sucking whirlpool, -all yellow and yeasty. The water had -smashed through the skin of the earth and was pouring -into the old shallow workings of Twenty-Two.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span>Deep down below, a rush of black water caught -the last gang waiting for the cage, and as they -clambered in the whirl was about their waists. The -cage reached the pit-bank, and the Manager called -the roll. The gangs were all safe except Gang -Janki, Gang Mogul, and Gang Rahim, eighteen -men, with perhaps ten basket-women who loaded -the coal into the little iron carriages that ran on -the tramways of the main galleries. These gangs -were in the out-workings, three-quarters of a mile -away, on the extreme fringe of the mine. Once -more the cage went down, but with only two Englishmen -in it, and dropped into a swirling, roaring -current that had almost touched the roof of some -of the lower side-galleries. One of the wooden -balks with which they had propped the old workings -shot past on the current, just missing the cage.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“If we don’t want our ribs knocked out, we’d -better go,” said the Manager. “We can’t even -save the Company’s props.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The cage drew out of the water with a splash, -and a few minutes later it was officially reported -that there were at least ten feet of water in the -pit’s eye. Now ten feet of water there meant that -all other places in the mine were flooded except -such galleries as were more than ten feet above -the level of the bottom of the shaft. The deep -workings would be full, the main galleries would -be full, but in the high workings reached by inclines -<span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>from the main roads there would be a certain -amount of air cut off, so to speak, by the -water and squeezed up by it. The little science-primers -explain how water behaves when you -pour it down test-tubes. The flooding of Twenty-Two -was an illustration on a large scale.</p> - -<hr class='c014' /> - -<p class='c001'>“By the Holy Grove, what has happened to the -air!” It was a Sonthal gangman of Gang Mogul -in Number Nine gallery, and he was driving a -six-foot way through the coal. Then there was a -rush from the other galleries, and Gang Janki and -Gang Rahim stumbled up with their basket-women.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Water has come in the mine,” they said, “and -there is no way of getting out.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I went down,” said Janki—“down the slope -of my gallery, and I felt the water.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“There has been no water in the cutting in our -time,” clamoured the women. “Why cannot we -go away?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Be silent!” said Janki. “Long ago, when -my father was here, water came to Ten—no, -Eleven—cutting, and there was great trouble. -Let us get away to where the air is better.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The three gangs and the basket-women left -Number Nine gallery and went further up Number -Sixteen. At one turn of the road they could -see the pitchy black water lapping on the coal. It -had touched the roof of a gallery that they knew -<span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>well—a gallery where they used to smoke their -<em>huqas</em> and manage their flirtations. Seeing this, -they called aloud upon their Gods, and the <a id='corr219.3'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Mehas'>Meahs</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_219.3'><ins class='correction' title='Mehas'>Meahs</ins></a></span>, -who are thrice bastard Muhammadans, strove -to recollect the name of the Prophet. They came -to a great open square whence nearly all the coal -had been extracted. It was the end of the out-workings, -and the end of the mine.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Far away down the gallery a small pumping-engine, -used for keeping dry a deep working and -fed with steam from above, was throbbing faithfully. -They heard it cease.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“They have cut off the steam,” said Kundoo -hopefully. “They have given the order to use -all the steam for the pit-bank pumps. They will -clear out the water.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“If the water has reached the smoking-gallery,” -said Janki, “all the Company’s pumps can do nothing -for three days.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It is very hot,” moaned Jasoda, the Meah -basket-woman. “There is a very bad air here -because of the lamps.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Put them out,” said Janki; “why do you want -lamps?” The lamps were put out and the company -sat still in the utter dark. Somebody rose -quietly and began walking over the coals. It -was Janki, who was touching the walls with his -hands. “Where is the ledge?” he murmured to -himself.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>“Sit, sit!” said Kundoo. “If we die, we die. -The air is very bad.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>But Janki still stumbled and crept and tapped -with his pick upon the walls. The women rose -to their feet.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Stay all where you are. Without the lamps -you cannot see, and I—I am always seeing,” said -Janki. Then he paused, and called out: “Oh, -you who have been in the cutting more than ten -years, what is the name of this open place? I am -an old man and I have forgotten.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Bullia’s Room,” answered the Sonthal who -had complained of the vileness of the air.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Again,” said Janki.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Bullia’s Room.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Then I have found it,” said Janki. “The -name only had slipped my memory. Tibu’s -gang’s gallery is here.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“A lie,” said Kundoo. “There have been no -galleries in this place since my day.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Three paces was the depth of the ledge,” -muttered Janki without heeding—“and—oh, -my poor bones!—I have found it! It is here, up -this ledge. Come all you, one by one, to the -place of my voice, and I will count you.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>There was a rush in the dark, and Janki felt -the first man’s face hit his knees as the Sonthal -scrambled up the ledge.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Who?” cried Janki.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span>“I, Sunua Manji.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Sit you down,” said Janki. “Who next?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>One by one the women and the men crawled -up the ledge which ran along one side of “Bullia’s -Room.” Degraded Muhammadan, pig-eating Musahr -and wild Sonthal, Janki ran his hand over -them all.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Now follow after,” said he, “catching hold -of my heel, and the women catching the men’s -clothes.” He did not ask whether the men had -brought their picks with them. A miner, black -or white, does not drop his pick. One by one, -Janki leading, they crept into the old gallery—a -six-foot way with a scant four feet from thill -to roof.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“The air is better here,” said Jasoda. They -could hear her heart beating in thick, sick bumps.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Slowly, slowly,” said Janki. “I am an old -man, and I forget many things. This is Tibu’s -gallery, but where are the four bricks where they -used to put their <em>huqa</em> fire on when the Sahibs -never saw? Slowly, slowly, O you people behind.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>They heard his hands disturbing the small coal -on the floor of the gallery and then a dull sound. -“This is one unbaked brick, and this is another -and another. Kundoo is a young man—let him -come forward. Put a knee upon this brick and -strike here. When Tibu’s gang were at dinner -on the last day before the good coal ended, they -<span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span>heard the men of Five on the other side, and Five -worked <em>their</em> gallery two Sundays later—or it -may have been one. Strike there, Kundoo, but -give me room to go back.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Kundoo, doubting, drove the pick, but the first -soft crush of the coal was a call to him. He was -fighting for his life and for Unda—pretty little -Unda with rings on all her toes—for Unda and -the forty rupees. The women sang the Song of -the Pick—the terrible, slow, swinging melody -with the muttered chorus that repeats the sliding -of the loosened coal, and, to each cadence, Kundoo -smote in the black dark. When he could do -no more, Sunua Manji took the pick, and struck -for his life and his wife, and his village beyond the -blue hills over the Tarachunda River. An hour -the men worked, and then the women cleared -away the coal.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It is farther than I thought,” said Janki. -“The air is very bad; but strike, Kundoo, strike -hard.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>For the fifth time Kundoo took up the pick as -the Sonthal crawled back. The song had scarcely -recommenced when it was broken by a yell from -Kundoo that echoed down the gallery: “<em>Par hua! -Par hua!</em> We are through, we are through!” -The imprisoned air in the mine shot through the -opening, and the women at the far end of the gallery -heard the water rush through the pillars of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>“Bullia’s Room” and roar against the ledge. Having -fulfilled the law under which it worked, it rose -no farther. The women screamed and pressed forward. -“The water has come—we shall be killed! -Let us go.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Kundoo crawled through the gap and found -himself in a propped gallery by the simple process -of hitting his head against a beam.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Do I know the pits or do I not?” chuckled -Janki. “This is the Number Five; go you out -slowly, giving me your names. Ho! Rahim, -count your gang! Now let us go forward, each -catching hold of the other as before.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>They formed a line in the darkness and Janki -led them—for a pit-man in a strange pit is only -one degree less liable to err than an ordinary mortal -underground for the first time. At last they -saw a flare-lamp, and Gangs Janki, Mogul, and -Rahim of Twenty-Two stumbled dazed into the -glare of the draught-furnace at the bottom of Five: -Janki feeling his way and the rest behind.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Water has come into Twenty-Two. God -knows where are the others. I have brought these -men from Tibu’s gallery in our cutting; making -connection through the north side of the gallery. -Take us to the cage,” said Janki Meah.</p> - -<hr class='c014' /> - -<p class='c001'>At the pit-bank of Twenty-Two some thousand -people clamoured and wept and shouted. One -<span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span>hundred men—one thousand men—had been -drowned in the cutting. They would all go to -their homes to-morrow. Where were their men? -Little Unda, her cloth drenched with the rain, -stood at the pit-mouth, calling down the shaft for -Kundoo. They had swung the cages clear of the -mouth, and her only answer was the murmur of -the flood in the pit’s eye two hundred and sixty -feet below.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Look after that woman! She’ll chuck herself -down the shaft in a minute,” shouted the Manager.</p> - -<p class='c001'>But he need not have troubled; Unda was afraid -of Death. She wanted Kundoo. The Assistant -was watching the flood and seeing how far he -could wade into it. There was a lull in the water, -and the whirlpool had slackened. The mine was -full, and the people at the pit-bank howled.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“My faith, we shall be lucky if we have five -hundred hands on the place to-morrow!” said the -Manager. “There’s some chance yet of running -a temporary dam across that water. Shove in -anything—tubs and bullock-carts if you haven’t -enough bricks. Make them work <em>now</em> if they -never worked before. Hi! you gangers, make -them work.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Little by little the crowd was broken into detachments, -and pushed towards the water with -promises of overtime. The dam-making began, -and when it was fairly under way, the Manager -<span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span>thought that the hour had come for the pumps. -There was no fresh inrush into the mine. The -tall, red, iron-clamped pump-beam rose and fell, -and the pumps snored and guttered and shrieked -as the first water poured out of the pipe.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“We must run her all to-night,” said the Manager -wearily, “but there’s no hope for the poor -devils down below. Look here, Gur Sahai, if you -are proud of your engines, show me what they can -do now.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Gur Sahai grinned and nodded, with his right -hand upon the lever and an oil-can in his left. He -could do no more than he was doing, but he could -keep that up till the dawn. Were the Company’s -pumps to be beaten by the vagaries of that troublesome -Tarachunda River? Never, never! And -the pumps sobbed and panted: “Never, never!” -The Manager sat in the shelter of the pit-bank -roofing, trying to dry himself by the pump-boiler -fire, and, in the dreary dusk, he saw the crowds on -the dam scatter and fly.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“That’s the end,” he groaned. “’Twill take us -six weeks to persuade ’em that we haven’t tried to -drown their mates on purpose. Oh, for a decent, -rational Geordie!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>But the flight had no panic in it. Men had run -over from Five with astounding news, and the -foremen could not hold their gangs together. -Presently, surrounded by a clamorous crew, Gangs -<span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span>Rahim, Mogul, and Janki, and ten basket-women -walked up to report themselves, and pretty little -Unda stole away to Janki’s hut to prepare his -evening meal.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Alone I found the way,” explained Janki -Meah, “and now will the Company give me pension?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The simple pit-folk shouted and leaped and -went back to the dam, reassured in their old belief -that, whatever happened, so great was the power -of the Company whose salt they ate, none of them -could be killed. But Gur Sahai only bared his -white teeth and kept his hand upon the lever and -proved his pumps to the uttermost.</p> - -<hr class='c014' /> - -<p class='c001'>“I say,” said the Assistant to the Manager, a -week later, “do you recollect ‘Germinal’?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Yes. ’Queer thing. I thought of it in the -cage when that balk went by. Why?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Oh, this business seems to be ‘Germinal’ upside -down. Janki was in my verandah all this -morning, telling me that Kundoo had eloped with -his wife—Unda or Anda, I think her name was.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Hillo! And those were the cattle that you -risked your life to clear out of Twenty-Two!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“No—I was thinking of the Company’s props, -not the Company’s men.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Sounds better to say so <em>now</em>; but I don’t believe -you, old fellow.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span> - <h2 class='c004'>JEWS IN SHUSHAN</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='small'>Copyright, 1891, by Macmillan & Co.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c005'>My newly purchased house furniture was, at the -least, insecure; the legs parted from the chairs, and -the tops from the tables, on the slightest provocation. -But such as it was, it was to be paid for, -and Ephraim, agent and collector for the local -auctioneer, waited in the verandah with the receipt. -He was announced by the Mahomedan servant as -“Ephraim, Yahudi”—Ephraim the Jew. He -who believes in the Brotherhood of Man should -hear my Elahi Bukhsh grinding the second word -through his white teeth with all the scorn he dare -show before his master. Ephraim was, personally, -meek in manner—so meek indeed that one could -not understand how he had fallen into the profession -of bill-collecting. He resembled an over-fed -sheep, and his voice suited his figure. There was -a fixed, unvarying mask of childish wonder upon -his face. If you paid him, he was as one marvelling -at your wealth; if you sent him away, he -seemed puzzled at your hard-heartedness. Never -was Jew more unlike his dread breed.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Ephraim wore list slippers and coats of duster-cloth, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span>so preposterously patterned that the most -brazen of British subalterns would have shied from -them in fear. Very slow and deliberate was his -speech, and carefully guarded to give offense to -no one. After many weeks, Ephraim was induced -to speak to me of his friends.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“There be eight of us in Shushan, and we are -waiting till there are ten. Then we shall apply -for a synagogue, and get leave from Calcutta. -To-day we have no synagogue; and I, only I, am -Priest and Butcher to our people. I am of the -tribe of Judah—I think, but I am not sure. My -father was of the tribe of Judah, and we wish much -to get our synagogue. I shall be a priest of that -synagogue.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Shushan is a big city in the North of India, -counting its dwellers by the ten thousand; and -these eight of the Chosen People were shut up in -its midst, waiting till time or chance sent them -their full congregation.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Miriam, the wife of Ephraim, two little children, -an orphan boy of their people, Ephraim’s uncle -Jackrael Israel, a white-haired old man, his wife -Hester, a Jew from Cutch, one Hyem Benjamin, -and Ephraim, Priest and Butcher, made up the -list of the Jews in Shushan. They lived in one -house, on the outskirts of the great city, amid -heaps of saltpetre, rotten bricks, herds of kine, and -a fixed pillar of dust caused by the incessant passing -<span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>of the beasts to the river to drink. In the -evening, the children of the City came to the -waste place to fly their kites, and Ephraim’s sons -held aloof, watching the sport from the roof, but -never descending to take part in it. At the -back of the house stood a small brick enclosure, -in which Ephraim prepared the daily meat for his -people after the custom of the Jews. Once the -rude door of the square was suddenly smashed -open by a struggle from inside, and showed the -meek bill-collector at his work, nostrils dilated, -lips drawn back over his teeth, and his hands upon -a half-maddened sheep. He was attired in strange -raiment, having no relation whatever to duster -coats or list slippers, and a knife was in his mouth. -As he struggled with the animal between the walls, -the breath came from him in thick sobs, and the -nature of the man seemed changed. When the -ordained slaughter was ended, he saw that the -door was open and shut it hastily, his hand leaving -a red mark on the timber, while his children from -the neighbouring house-top looked down awe-stricken -and open-eyed. A glimpse of Ephraim -busied in one of his religious capacities was no -thing to be desired twice.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Summer came upon Shushan, turning the trodden -waste-ground to iron, and bringing sickness -to the city.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It will not touch us,” said Ephraim confidently. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span>“Before the winter we shall have our -synagogue. My brother and his wife and children -are coming up from Calcutta, and <em>then</em> I shall be -the priest of the synagogue.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Jackrael Israel, the old man, would crawl out in -the stifling evenings to sit on the rubbish-heap and -watch the corpses being borne down to the river.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It will not come near us,” said Jackrael Israel -feebly, “for we are the people of God, and my -nephew will be priest of our synagogue. Let -them die.” He crept back to his house again -and barred the door to shut himself off from the -world of the Gentile.</p> - -<p class='c001'>But Miriam, the wife of Ephraim, looked out -of the window at the dead as the biers passed, and -said that she was afraid. Ephraim comforted her -with hopes of the synagogue to be, and collected -bills as was his custom.</p> - -<p class='c001'>In one night the two children died and were -buried early in the morning by Ephraim. The -deaths never appeared in the City returns. “The -sorrow is my sorrow,” said Ephraim; and this to -him seemed a sufficient reason for setting at naught -the sanitary regulations of a large, flourishing, and -remarkably well-governed Empire.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The orphan boy, dependent on the charity of -Ephraim and his wife, could have felt no gratitude, -and must have been a ruffian. He begged -for whatever money his protectors would give him, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span>and with that fled down country for his life. A -week after the death of her children Miriam left -her bed at night and wandered over the country -to find them. She heard them crying behind -every bush, or drowning in every pool of water -in the fields, and she begged the cartmen on the -Grand Trunk Road not to steal her little ones -from her. In the morning the sun rose and beat -upon her bare head, and she turned into the cool, -wet crops to lie down, and never came back, -though Hyem Benjamin and Ephraim sought her -for two nights.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The look of patient wonder on Ephraim’s face -deepened, but he presently found an explanation. -“There are so few of us here, and these people are -so many,” said he, “that, it may be, our God has -forgotten us.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>In the house on the outskirts of the city old -Jackrael Israel and Hester grumbled that there -was no one to wait on them, and that Miriam had -been untrue to her race. Ephraim went out and -collected bills, and in the evenings smoked with -Hyem Benjamin till, one dawning, Hyem Benjamin -died, having first paid all his debts to Ephraim. -Jackrael Israel and Hester sat alone in the empty -house all day, and, when Ephraim returned, wept -the easy tears of age till they cried themselves -asleep.</p> - -<p class='c001'>A week later Ephraim, staggering under a huge -<span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span>bundle of clothes and cooking-pots, led the old -man and woman to the railway station, where the -bustle and confusion made them whimper.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“We are going back to Calcutta,” said Ephraim, -to whose sleeve Hester was clinging. “There are -more of us there, and here my house is empty.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>He helped Hester into the carriage and, turning -back, said to me, “I should have been priest of -the synagogue if there had been ten of us. Surely -we must have been forgotten by our God.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The remnant of the broken colony passed out -of the station on their journey south; while a subaltern, -turning over the books on the bookstall, -was whistling to himself “The Ten Little Nigger -Boys.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>But the tune sounded as solemn as the Dead -March.</p> - -<p class='c001'>It was the dirge of the Jews in Shushan.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_233'>233</span> - <h2 class='c004'>GEORGIE PORGIE</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='small'>Copyright, 1891, by Macmillan & Co.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c017'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Georgie Porgie, pudding and pie,</div> - <div class='line'>Kissed the girls and made them cry.</div> - <div class='line'>When the girls came out to play</div> - <div class='line'>Georgie Porgie ran away.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c005'>If you will admit that a man has no right to enter -his drawing-room early in the morning, when -the housemaid is setting things right and clearing -away the dust, you will concede that civilised -people who eat out of china and own card-cases -have no right to apply their standard of right and -wrong to an unsettled land. When the place is -made fit for their reception, by those men who are -told off to the work, they can come up, bringing -in their trunks their own society and the Decalogue, -and all the other apparatus. Where the -Queen’s Law does not carry, it is irrational to expect -an observance of other and weaker rules. -The men who run ahead of the cars of Decency -and Propriety, and make the jungle ways straight, -cannot be judged in the same manner as the stay-at-home -folk of the ranks of the regular <em>Tchin</em>.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Not many months ago the Queen’s Law stopped -<span class='pageno' id='Page_234'>234</span>a few miles north of Thayetmyo on the Irrawaddy. -There was no very strong Public Opinion up to -that limit, but it existed to keep men in order. -When the Government said that the Queen’s Law -must carry up to Bhamo and the Chinese border, the -order was given, and some men whose desire was -to be ever a little in advance of the rush of Respectability -flocked forward with the troops. These -were the men who could never pass examinations, -and would have been too pronounced in their -ideas for the administration of bureau-worked Provinces. -The Supreme Government stepped in as -soon as might be, with codes and regulations, and all -but reduced New Burma to the dead Indian level; -but there was a short time during which strong men -were necessary and ploughed a field for themselves.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Among the fore-runners of Civilisation was -Georgie Porgie, reckoned by all who knew him -a strong man. He held an appointment in Lower -Burma when the order came to break the Frontier, -and his friends called him Georgie Porgie because -of the singularly Burmese-like manner in which he -sang a song whose first line is something like the -words “Georgie Porgie.” Most men who have -been in Burma will know the song. It means: -“Puff, puff, puff, puff, great steamboat!” Georgie -sang it to his banjo, and his friends shouted with -delight, so that you could hear them far away in -the teak-forest.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_235'>235</span>When he went to Upper Burma he had no special -regard for God or Man, but he knew how to -make himself respected, and to carry out the mixed -Military-Civil duties that fell to most men’s share -in those months. He did his office work and entertained, -now and again, the detachments of fever-shaken -soldiers who blundered through his part of -the world in search of a flying party of dacoits. -Sometimes he turned out and dressed down dacoits -on his own account; for the country was still -smouldering and would blaze when least expected. -He enjoyed these charivaris, but the dacoits were -not so amused. All the officials who came in contact -with him departed with the idea that Georgie -Porgie was a valuable person, well able to take -care of himself, and, on that belief, he was left to -his own devices.</p> - -<p class='c001'>At the end of a few months he wearied of his -solitude, and cast about for company and refinement. -The Queen’s Law had hardly begun to be -felt in the country, and Public Opinion, which is -more powerful than the Queen’s Law, had yet to -come. Also, there was a custom in the country -which allowed a white man to take to himself a -wife of the Daughters of Heth upon due payment. -The marriage was not quite so binding as is the -<em>nikkah</em> ceremony among Mahomedans, but the wife -was very pleasant.</p> - -<p class='c001'>When all our troops are back from Burma there -<span class='pageno' id='Page_236'>236</span>will be a proverb in their mouths, “As thrifty as -a Burmese wife,” and pretty English ladies will -wonder what in the world it means.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The headman of the village next to Georgie -Porgie’s post had a fair daughter who had seen -Georgie Porgie and loved him from afar. When -news went abroad that the Englishman with the -heavy hand who lived in the stockade was looking -for a housekeeper, the headman came in and explained -that, for five hundred rupees down, he -would entrust his daughter to Georgie Porgie’s -keeping, to be maintained in all honour, respect, -and comfort, with pretty dresses, according to the -custom of the country. This thing was done, and -Georgie Porgie never repented it.</p> - -<p class='c001'>He found his rough-and-tumble house put -straight and made comfortable, his hitherto unchecked -expenses cut down by one half, and himself -petted and made much of by his new acquisition, -who sat at the head of his table and sang -songs to him and ordered his Madrassee servants -about, and was in every way as sweet and merry -and honest and winning a little woman as the most -exacting of bachelors could have desired. No -race, men say who know, produces such good -wives and heads of households as the Burmese. -When the next detachment tramped by on the -war-path the Subaltern in Command found at -Georgie Porgie’s table a hostess to be deferential -<span class='pageno' id='Page_237'>237</span>to, a woman to be treated in every way as one -occupying an assured position. When he gathered -his men together next dawn and replunged -into the jungle, he thought regretfully of the nice -little dinner and the pretty face, and envied Georgie -Porgie from the bottom of his heart. Yet <em>he</em> -was engaged to a girl at Home, and that is how -some men are constructed.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The Burmese girl’s name was not a pretty one; -but as she was promptly christened Georgina -by Georgie Porgie, the blemish did not matter. -Georgie Porgie thought well of the petting and -the general comfort, and vowed that he had never -spent five hundred rupees to a better end.</p> - -<p class='c001'>After three months of domestic life, a great idea -struck him. Matrimony—English matrimony—could -not be such a bad thing after all. If he -were so thoroughly comfortable at the Back of -Beyond with this Burmese girl who smoked cheroots, -how much more comfortable would he be -with a sweet English maiden who would not -smoke cheroots, and would play upon a piano -instead of a banjo? Also he had a desire to return -to his kind, to hear a Band once more, and to feel -how it felt to wear a dress-suit again. Decidedly, -Matrimony would be a very good thing. He -thought the matter out at length of evenings, -while Georgina sang to him, or asked him why -he was so silent, and whether she had done anything -<span class='pageno' id='Page_238'>238</span>to offend him. As he thought he smoked, -and as he smoked he looked at Georgina, and in -his fancy turned her into a fair, thrifty, amusing, -merry little English girl, with hair coming low -down on her forehead, and perhaps a cigarette between -her lips. Certainly not a big, thick, Burma -cheroot, of the brand that Georgina smoked. He -would wed a girl with Georgina’s eyes and most -of her ways. But not all. She could be improved -upon. Then he blew thick smoke-wreaths through -his nostrils and stretched himself. He would taste -marriage. Georgina had helped him to save -money, and there were six months’ leave due to -him.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“See here, little woman,” he said, “we must -put by more money for these next three months. -I want it.” That was a direct slur on Georgina’s -housekeeping; for she prided herself on her thrift; -but since her God wanted money she would do -her best.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“You want money?” she said with a little -laugh. “I <em>have</em> money. Look!” She ran to her -own room and fetched out a small bag of rupees. -“Of all that you give me, I keep back some. -See! One hundred and seven rupees. Can you -want more money than that? Take it. It is my -pleasure if you use it.” She spread out the money -on the table and pushed it towards him with her -quick, little, pale yellow fingers.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_239'>239</span>Georgie Porgie never referred to economy in -the household again.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Three months later, after the despatch and receipt -of several mysterious letters which Georgina -could not understand, and hated for that reason, -Georgie Porgie said that he was going away and -she must return to her father’s house and stay -there.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Georgina wept. She would go with her God -from the world’s end to the world’s end. Why -should she leave him? She loved him.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I am only going to Rangoon,” said Georgie -Porgie. “I shall be back in a month, but it is -safer to stay with your father. I will leave you -two hundred rupees.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“If you go for a month, what need of two hundred? -Fifty are more than enough. There is -some evil here. Do not go, or at least let me go -with you.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Georgie Porgie does not like to remember that -scene even at this date. In the end he got rid of -Georgina by a compromise of seventy-five rupees. -She would not take more. Then he went by -steamer and rail to Rangoon.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The mysterious letters had granted him six -months’ leave. The actual flight and an idea that -he might have been treacherous hurt severely at -the time, but as soon as the big steamer was well -out into the blue, things were easier, and Georgina’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_240'>240</span>face, and the queer little stockaded house, and the -memory of the rushes of shouting dacoits by night, -the cry and struggle of the first man that he had -ever killed with his own hand, and a hundred other -more intimate things, faded and faded out of -Georgie Porgie’s heart, and the vision of approaching -England took its place. The steamer was full -of men on leave, all rampantly jovial souls who -had shaken off the dust and sweat of Upper Burma -and were as merry as schoolboys. They helped -Georgie Porgie to forget.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Then came England with its luxuries and decencies -and comforts, and Georgie Porgie walked -in a pleasant dream upon pavements of which he -had nearly forgotten the ring, wondering why men -in their senses ever left Town. He accepted his -keen delight in his furlough as the reward of his -services. Providence further arranged for him -another and greater delight—all the pleasures of -a quiet English wooing, quite different from the -brazen businesses of the East, when half the community -stand back and bet on the result, and the -other half wonder what Mrs. So-and-So will say -to it.</p> - -<p class='c001'>It was a pleasant girl and a perfect summer, and -a big country-house near Petworth where there are -acres and acres of purple heather and high-grassed -water-meadows to wander through. Georgie Porgie -felt that he had at last found something worth -<span class='pageno' id='Page_241'>241</span>the living for, and naturally assumed that the next -thing to do was to ask the girl to share his life in -India. She, in her ignorance, was willing to go. -On this occasion there was no bartering with a -village headman. There was a fine middle-class -wedding in the country, with a stout Papa and a -weeping Mamma, and a best man in purple and -fine linen, and six snub-nosed girls from the Sunday-School -to throw roses on the path between -the tombstones up to the Church door. The local -paper described the affair at great length, even -down to giving the hymns in full. But that was -because the Direction were starving for want of -material.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Then came a honeymoon at Arundel, and the -Mamma wept copiously before she allowed her -one daughter to sail away to India under the care -of Georgie Porgie the Bridegroom. Beyond any -question, Georgie Porgie was immensely fond of -his wife, and she was devoted to him as the best -and greatest man in the world. When he reported -himself at Bombay he felt justified in demanding -a good station for his wife’s sake; and, because he -had made a little mark in Burma and was beginning -to be appreciated, they allowed him nearly -all that he asked for, and posted him to a station -which we will call Sutrain. It stood upon several -hills, and was styled officially a “Sanitarium,” -for the good reason that the drainage was utterly -<span class='pageno' id='Page_242'>242</span>neglected. Here Georgie Porgie settled down, -and found married life come very naturally to him. -He did not rave, as do many bridegrooms, over -the strangeness and delight of seeing his own true -love sitting down to breakfast with him every -morning “as though it were the most natural thing -in the world.” “He had been there before,” as the -Americans say, and, checking the merits of his -own present grace by those of Georgina, he was -more and more inclined to think that he had done -well.</p> - -<p class='c001'>But there was no peace or comfort across the -Bay of Bengal, under the teak-trees where Georgina -lived with her father, waiting for Georgie -Porgie to return. The headman was old, and remembered -the war of ’51. He had been to Rangoon, -and knew something of the ways of the -<em>Kullahs</em>. Sitting in front of his door in the evenings, -he taught Georgina a dry philosophy which -did not console her in the least.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The trouble was that she loved Georgie Porgie -just as much as the French girl in the English -History books loved the priest whose head was -broken by the King’s bullies. One day she disappeared -from the village, with all the rupees that -Georgie Porgie had given her, and a very small -smattering of English—also gained from Georgie -Porgie.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The headman was angry at first, but lit a fresh -<span class='pageno' id='Page_243'>243</span>cheroot and said something uncomplimentary -about the sex in general. Georgina had started -on a search for Georgie Porgie, who might be in -Rangoon, or across the Black Water, or dead, for -aught that she knew. Chance favoured her. An -old Sikh policeman told her that Georgie Porgie -had crossed the Black Water. She took a steerage-passage -from Rangoon and went to Calcutta, -keeping the secret of her search to herself.</p> - -<p class='c001'>In India every trace of her was lost for six -weeks, and no one knows what trouble of heart -she must have undergone.</p> - -<p class='c001'>She reappeared, four hundred miles north of -Calcutta, steadily heading northwards, very worn -and haggard, but very fixed in her determination -to find Georgie Porgie. She could not understand -the language of the people; but India is infinitely -charitable, and the women-folk along the Grand -Trunk gave her food. Something made her believe -that Georgie Porgie was to be found at the -end of that pitiless road. She may have seen a -sepoy who knew him in Burma, but of this no -one can be certain. At last she found a regiment -on the line of march, and met there one of the -many subalterns whom Georgie Porgie had invited -to dinner in the far-off, old days of the -dacoit-hunting. There was a certain amount -of amusement among the tents when Georgina -threw herself at the man’s feet and began to cry. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_244'>244</span>There was no amusement when her story was -told; but a collection was made, and that was -more to the point. One of the subalterns knew -of Georgie Porgie’s whereabouts, but not of his -marriage. So he told Georgina and she went her -way joyfully to the north, in a railway carriage -where there was rest for tired feet and shade for a -dusty little head. The marches from the train -through the hills into Sutrain were trying, but -Georgina had money, and families journeying in -bullock-carts gave her help. It was an almost -miraculous journey, and Georgina felt sure that -the good spirits of Burma were looking after her. -The hill-road to Sutrain is a chilly stretch, and -Georgina caught a bad cold. Still there was -Georgie Porgie at the end of all the trouble to -take her up in his arms and pet her, as he used -to do in the old days when the stockade was shut -for the night and he had approved of the evening -meal. Georgina went forward as fast as she could; -and her good spirits did her one last favour.</p> - -<p class='c001'>An Englishman stopped her, in the twilight, -just at the turn of the road into Sutrain, saying, -“Good Heavens! What are you doing here?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>He was Gillis, the man who had been Georgie -Porgie’s assistant in Upper Burma, and who occupied -the next post to Georgie Porgie’s in the -jungle. Georgie Porgie had applied to have him -to work with at Sutrain because he liked him.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_245'>245</span>“I have come,” said Georgina simply. “It was -such a long way, and I have been months in coming. -Where is his house?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Gillis gasped. He had seen enough of Georgina -in the old times to know that explanations -would be useless. You cannot explain things to -the Oriental. You must show.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I’ll take you there,” said Gillis, and he led -Georgina off the road, up the cliff, by a little pathway, -to the back of a house set on a platform cut -into the hillside.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The lamps were just lit, but the curtains were -not drawn. “Now look,” said Gillis, stopping -in front of the drawing-room window. Georgina -looked and saw Georgie Porgie and the Bride.</p> - -<p class='c001'>She put her hand up to her hair, which had come -out of its top-knot and was straggling about her -face. She tried to set her ragged dress in order, -but the dress was past pulling straight, and she -coughed a queer little cough, for she really had -taken a very bad cold. Gillis looked, too, but -while Georgina only looked at the Bride once, -turning her eyes always on Georgie Porgie, Gillis -looked at the Bride all the time.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“What are you going to do?” said Gillis, who -held Georgina by the wrist, in case of any unexpected -rush into the lamplight. “Will you go -in and tell that English woman that you lived -with her husband?”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_246'>246</span>“No,” said Georgina faintly. “Let me go. I -am going away. I swear that I am going away.” -She twisted herself free and ran off into the dark.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Poor little beast!” said Gillis, dropping on to -the main road. “I’d ha’ given her something to -get back to Burma with. What a narrow shave, -though! And that angel would never have forgiven -it.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>This seems to prove that the devotion of Gillis -was not entirely due to his affection for Georgie -Porgie.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The Bride and the Bridegroom came out into -the verandah after dinner, in order that the smoke -of Georgie Porgie’s cheroots might not hang in -the new drawing-room curtains.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“What is that noise down there?” said the -Bride. Both listened.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Oh,” said Georgie Porgie, “I suppose some -brute of a hillman has been beating his wife.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Beating—his—wife! How ghastly!” said -the Bride. “Fancy <em>your</em> beating <em>me</em>!” She slipped -an arm round her husband’s waist, and, leaning -her head against his shoulder, looked out across -the cloud-filled valley in deep content and security.</p> - -<p class='c001'>But it was Georgina crying, all by herself, down -the hillside, among the stones of the water-course -where the washermen wash the clothes.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_247'>247</span> - <h2 class='c004'>LITTLE TOBRAH</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='small'>Copyright, 1891, by Macmillan & Co.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c005'>“Prisoner’s head did not reach to the top of the -dock,” as the English newspapers say. This case, -however, was not reported because nobody cared -by so much as a hempen rope for the life or death -of Little Tobrah. The assessors in the red courthouse -sat upon him all through the long hot afternoon, -and whenever they asked him a question he -salaamed and whined. Their verdict was that the -evidence was inconclusive, and the Judge concurred. -It was true that the dead body of Little -Tobrah’s sister had been found at the bottom of -the well, and Little Tobrah was the only human -being within a half-mile radius at the time; but -the child might have fallen in by accident. Therefore -Little Tobrah was acquitted, and told to go -where he pleased. This permission was not so -generous as it sounds, for he had nowhere to go -to, nothing in particular to eat, and nothing whatever -to wear.</p> - -<p class='c001'>He trotted into the court-compound, and sat -upon the well-curb, wondering whether an unsuccessful -dive into the black water below would -<span class='pageno' id='Page_248'>248</span>end in a forced voyage across the other Black -Water. A groom put down an emptied nose-bag -on the bricks, and Little Tobrah, being hungry, -set himself to scrape out what wet grain the horse -had overlooked.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“O Thief—and but newly set free from the -terror of the Law! Come along!” said the groom, -and Little Tobrah was led by the ear to a large -and fat Englishman, who heard the tale of the -theft.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Hah!” said the Englishman three times (only -he said a stronger word). “Put him into the net -and take him home.” So Little Tobrah was thrown -into the net of the cart, and, nothing doubting that -he should be stuck like a pig, was driven to the -Englishman’s house. “Hah!” said the Englishman -as before. “Wet grain, by Jove! Feed -the little beggar, some of you, and we’ll make a -riding-boy of him? See? Wet grain, good Lord!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Give an account of yourself,” said the head -of the Grooms to Little Tobrah after the meal had -been eaten and the servants lay at ease in their -quarters behind the house. “You are not of the -groom caste, unless it be for the stomach’s sake. -How came you into the court, and why? Answer, -little devil’s spawn!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“There was not enough to eat,” said Little -Tobrah calmly. “This is a good place.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Talk straight talk,” said the Head Groom, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_249'>249</span>“or I will make you clean out the stable of that -large red stallion who bites like a camel.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“We be <em>Telis</em>, oil-pressers,” said Little Tobrah, -scratching his toes in the dust. “We were <em>Telis</em>—my -father, my mother, my brother, the elder by -four years, myself, and the sister.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“She who was found dead in the well?” said -one who had heard something of the trial.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Even so,” said Little Tobrah gravely. “She -who was found dead in the well. It befell upon a -time, which is not in my memory, that the sickness -came to the village where our oil-press stood, -and first my sister was smitten as to her eyes, and -went without sight, for it was <em>mata</em>—the small-pox. -Thereafter, my father and my mother died -of that same sickness, so we were alone—my -brother who had twelve years, I who had eight, -and the sister who could not see. Yet were there -the bullock and the oil-press remaining, and we -made shift to press the oil as before. But Surjun -Dass, the grain-seller, cheated us in his dealings; -and it was always a stubborn bullock to drive. -We put marigold flowers for the Gods upon the -neck of the bullock, and upon the great grinding-beam -that rose through the roof; but we gained -nothing thereby, and Surjun Dass was a hard man.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“<em>Bapri-bap</em>,” muttered the grooms’ wives, “to -cheat a child so! But we know what the <em>bunnia</em>-folk -are, sisters.”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_250'>250</span>“The press was an old press, and we were not -strong men—my brother and I; nor could we fix -the neck of the beam firmly in the shackle.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Nay, indeed,” said the gorgeously-clad wife -of the Head Groom, joining the circle. “That is -a strong man’s work. When I was a maid in my -father’s house——”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Peace, woman,” said the Head Groom. “Go -on, boy.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It is nothing,” said Little Tobrah. “The big -beam tore down the roof upon a day which is not -in my memory, and with the roof fell much of the -hinder wall, and both together upon our bullock, -whose back was broken. Thus we had neither -home, nor press, nor bullock—my brother, myself, -and the sister who was blind. We went crying -away from that place, hand-in-hand, across the -fields; and our money was seven annas and six -pie. There was a famine in the land. I do not -know the name of the land. So, on a night when -we were sleeping, my brother took the five annas -that remained to us and ran away. I do not know -whither he went. The curse of my father be upon -him. But I and the sister begged food in the villages, -and there was none to give. Only all men -said—‘Go to the Englishmen and they will give.’ -I did not know what the Englishmen were; but -they said that they were white, living in tents. I -went forward; but I cannot say whither I went, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_251'>251</span>and there was no more food for myself or the sister. -And upon a hot night, she weeping and calling -for food, we came to a well, and I bade her sit -upon the curb, and thrust her in, for, in truth, she -could not see; and it is better to die than to -starve.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Ai! Ahi!” wailed the grooms’ wives in chorus; -“he thrust her in, for it is better to die than -to starve!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I would have thrown myself in also, but that -she was not dead and called to me from the bottom -of the well, and I was afraid and ran. And -one came out of the crops saying that I had killed -her and defiled the well, and they took me before -an Englishman, white and terrible, living in a tent, -and me he sent here. But there were no witnesses, -and it is better to die than to starve. She, furthermore, -could not see with her eyes, and was but a -little child.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Was but a little child,” echoed the Head -Groom’s wife. “But who art thou, weak as a -fowl and small as a day-old colt, what art <em>thou</em>?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I who was empty am now full,” said Little -Tobrah, stretching himself upon the dust. “And -I would sleep.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The groom’s wife spread a cloth over him while -Little Tobrah slept the sleep of the just.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_252'>252</span> - <h2 class='c004'>GEMINI</h2> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c015'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Great is the justice of the White Man—greater the power</div> - <div class='line'>of a lie.—<cite>Native Proverb.</cite></div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c005'>This is your English Justice, Protector of the -Poor. Look at my back and loins which are -beaten with sticks—heavy sticks! I am a poor -man, and there is no justice in Courts.</p> - -<p class='c001'>There were two of us, and we were born of one -birth, but I swear to you that I was born the first, -and Ram Dass is the younger by three full breaths. -The astrologer said so, and it is written in my -horoscope—the horoscope of Durga Dass.</p> - -<p class='c001'>But we were alike—I and my brother who is -a beast without honour—so alike that none knew, -together or apart, which was Durga Dass. I am -a Mahajun of Pali in Marwar, and an honest man. -This is true talk. When we were men, we left -our father’s house in Pali, and went to the Punjab, -where all the people are mud-heads and sons of -asses. We took shop together in Isser Jang—I -and my brother—near the big well where the -Governor’s camp draws water. But Ram Dass, -who is without truth, made quarrel with me, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_253'>253</span>we were divided. He took his books, and his -pots, and his Mark, and became a <em>bunnia</em>—a -money-lender—in the long street of Isser Jang, -near the gateway of the road that goes to Montgomery. -It was not my fault that we pulled each -other’s turbans. I am a Mahajun of Pali, and I -<em>always</em> speak true talk. Ram Dass was the thief -and the liar.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Now no man, not even the little children, could -at one glance see which was Ram Dass and which -was Durga Dass. But all the people of Isser Jang—may -they die without sons!—said that we were -thieves. They used much bad talk, but I took -money on their bedsteads and their cooking-pots -and the standing crop and the calf unborn, from -the well in the big square to the gate of the Montgomery -road. They were fools, these people—unfit -to cut the toe-nails of a Marwari from Pali. -I lent money to them all. A little, very little -only—here a pice and there a pice. God is my -witness that I am a poor man! The money is -all with Ram Dass—may his sons turn Christian, -and his daughter be a burning fire and a shame in -the house from generation to generation! May -she die unwed, and be the mother of a multitude -of bastards! Let the light go out in the house of -Ram Dass, my brother. This I pray daily twice—with -offerings and charms.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Thus the trouble began. We divided the town -<span class='pageno' id='Page_254'>254</span>of Isser Jang between us—I and my brother. -There was a landholder beyond the gates, living -but one short mile out, on the road that leads to -Montgomery, and his name was Muhammad Shah, -son of a Nawab. He was a great devil and drank -wine. So long as there were women in his house, -and wine and money for the marriage-feasts, he -was merry and wiped his mouth. Ram Dass lent -him the money, a lakh or half a lakh—how do I -know?—and so long as the money was lent, the -landholder cared not what he signed.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The people of Isser Jang were my portion, and -the landholder and the out-town were the portion -of Ram Dass; for so we had arranged. I was the -poor man, for the people of Isser Jang were without -wealth. I did what I could, but Ram Dass -had only to wait without the door of the landholder’s -garden-court, and to lend him the money; -taking the bonds from the hand of the steward.</p> - -<p class='c001'>In the autumn of the year after the lending, -Ram Dass said to the landholder: “Pay me my -money,” but the landholder gave him abuse. But -Ram Dass went into the Courts with the papers -and the bonds—all correct—and took out decrees -against the landholder; and the name of the -Government was across the stamps of the decrees. -Ram Dass took field by field, and mango-tree by -mango-tree, and well by well; putting in his own -men—debtors of the out-town of Isser Jang—to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_255'>255</span>cultivate the crops. So he crept up across -the land, for he had the papers, and the name of -the Government was across the stamps, till his men -held the crops for him on all sides of the big white -house of the landholder. It was well done; but -when the landholder saw these things he was very -angry and cursed Ram Dass after the manner of -the Muhammadans.</p> - -<p class='c001'>And thus the landholder was angry, but Ram -Dass laughed and claimed more fields, as was -written upon the bonds. This was in the month -of Phagun. I took my horse and went out to -speak to the man who makes lac-bangles upon the -road that leads to Montgomery, because he owed -me a debt. There was in front of me, upon his -horse, my brother Ram Dass. And when he saw -me, he turned aside into the high crops, because -there was hatred between us. And I went forward -till I came to the orange-bushes by the landholder’s -house. The bats were flying, and the evening -smoke was low down upon the land. Here met -me four men—swashbucklers and Muhammadans—with -their faces bound up, laying hold of -my horse’s bridle and crying out: “This is Ram -Dass! Beat!” Me they beat with their staves—heavy -staves bound about with wire at the end, -such weapons as those swine of Punjabis use—till, -having cried for mercy, I fell down senseless. But -these shameless ones still beat me, saying: “O Ram -<span class='pageno' id='Page_256'>256</span>Dass, this is your interest—well weighed and -counted into your hand, Ram Dass.” I cried -aloud that I was not Ram Dass, but Durga Dass, -his brother, yet they only beat me the more, and -when I could make no more outcry they left me. -But I saw their faces. There was Elahi Baksh -who runs by the side of the landholder’s white -horse, and Nur Ali the keeper of the door, and -Wajib Ali the very strong cook, and Abdul Latif -the messenger—all of the household of the landholder. -These things I can swear on the Cow’s -Tail if need be, but—<em>Ahi! Ahi!</em>—it has been -already sworn, and I am a poor man whose honour -is lost.</p> - -<p class='c001'>When these four had gone away laughing, my brother -Ram Dass came out of the crops and mourned -over me as one dead. But I opened my eyes, and -prayed him to get me water. When I had drunk, -he carried me on his back, and by byways brought -me into the town of Isser Jang. My heart was -turned to Ram Dass, my brother, in that hour, -because of his kindness, and I lost my enmity.</p> - -<p class='c001'>But a snake is a snake till it is dead; and a liar -is a liar till the Judgment of the Gods takes hold -of his heel. I was wrong in that I trusted my brother—the -son of my mother.</p> - -<p class='c001'>When we had come to his house and I was a -little restored, I told him my tale, and he said: -“Without doubt it is me whom they would have -<span class='pageno' id='Page_257'>257</span>beaten. But the Law Courts are open, and there -is the Justice of the Sirkar above all; and to the -Law Courts do thou go when this sickness is over-past.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Now when we two had left Pali in the old -years, there fell a famine that ran from Jeysulmir -to Gurgaon and touched Gogunda in the south. -At that time the sister of my father came away -and lived with us in Isser Jang; for a man must -above all see that his folk do not die of want. -When the quarrel between us twain came about, -the sister of my father—a lean she-dog without -teeth—said that Ram Dass had the right, and -went with him. Into her hands—because she -knew medicines and many cures—Ram Dass, my -brother, put me faint with the beating, and much -bruised even to the pouring of blood from the -mouth. When I had two days’ sickness the fever -came upon me; and I set aside the fever to the -account written in my mind against the landholder.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The Punjabis of Isser Jang are all the sons of -Belial and a she-ass, but they are very good witnesses, -bearing testimony unshakingly whatever -the pleaders may say. I would purchase witnesses -by the score, and each man should give evidence, -not only against Nur Ali, Wajib Ali, Abdul Latif, -and Elahi Baksh, but against the landholder, saying -that he upon his white horse had called his -men to beat me; and, further that they had robbed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_258'>258</span>me of two hundred rupees. For the latter testimony -I would remit a little of the debt of the -man who sold the lac-bangles, and he should say -that he had put the money into my hands, and had -seen the robbery from afar, but, being afraid, had -run away. This plan I told to my brother Ram -Dass; and he said that the arrangement was good, -and bade me take comfort and make swift work -to be abroad again. My heart was opened to my -brother in my sickness, and I told him the names -of those whom I would call as witnesses—all men -in my debt, but of that the Magistrate Sahib could -have no knowledge, nor the landholder. The -fever stayed with me, and after the fever I was -taken with colic, and gripings very terrible. In -that day I thought that my end was at hand, but -I know now that she who gave me the medicines, -the sister of my father—a widow with a widow’s -heart—had brought about my second sickness. -Ram Dass, my brother, said that my house was -shut and locked, and brought me the big door-key -and my books, together with all the moneys that -were in my house—even the money that was buried -under the floor; for I was in great fear lest thieves -should break in and dig. I speak true talk; there -was but very little money in my house. Perhaps -ten rupees—perhaps twenty. How can I tell? -God is my witness that I am a poor man.</p> - -<p class='c001'>One night when I had told Ram Dass all that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_259'>259</span>was in my heart of the lawsuit that I would bring -against the landholder, and Ram Dass had said -that he had made the arrangements with the witnesses, -giving me their names written, I was taken -with a new great sickness, and they put me on -the bed. When I was a little recovered—I cannot -tell how many days afterwards—I made enquiry -for Ram Dass, and the sister of my father -said that he had gone to Montgomery upon a -lawsuit. I took medicine and slept very heavily -without waking. When my eyes were opened, -there was a great stillness in the house of Ram -Dass, and none answered when I called—not -even the sister of my father. This filled me with -fear, for I knew not what had happened.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Taking a stick in my hand, I went out slowly, -till I came to the great square by the well, and -my heart was hot in me against the landholder -because of the pain of every step I took.</p> - -<p class='c001'>I called for Jowar Singh, the carpenter, whose -name was first upon the list of those who should -bear evidence against the landholder, saying: -“Are all things ready, and do you know what -should be said?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Jowar Singh answered: “What is this, and -whence do you come, Durga Dass?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>I said: “From my bed, where I have so long -lain sick because of the landholder. Where is -Ram Dass, my brother, who was to have made -<span class='pageno' id='Page_260'>260</span>the arrangement for the witnesses? Surely you -and yours know these things!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Then Jowar Singh said: “What has this to -do with us, O Liar? I have borne witness and -I have been paid, and the landholder has, by the -order of the Court, paid both the five hundred -rupees that he robbed from Ram Dass and yet -other five hundred because of the great injury he -did to your brother.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The well and the jujube-tree above it and the -square of Isser Jang became dark in my eyes, but -I leaned on my stick and said: “Nay! This is -child’s talk and senseless. It was I who suffered -at the hands of the landholder, and I am come to -make ready the case. Where is my brother Ram -Dass?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>But Jowar Singh shook his head, and a woman -cried: “What lie is here? What quarrel had the -landholder with you, <em>bunnia</em>? It is only a shameless -one and one without faith who profits by his -brother’s smarts. Have these <em>bunnias</em> no bowels?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>I cried again, saying: “By the Cow—by the -Oath of the Cow, by the Temple of the Blue-throated -Mahadeo, I and I only was beaten—beaten -to the death! Let your talk be straight, -O people of Isser Jang, and I will pay for the -witnesses.” And I tottered where I stood, for the -sickness and the pain of the beating were heavy -upon me.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_261'>261</span>Then Ram Narain, who has his carpet spread -under the jujube-tree by the well, and writes all -letters for the men of the town, came up and said: -“To-day is the one and fortieth day since the -beating, and since these six days the case has been -judged in the Court, and the Assistant Commissioner -Sahib has given it for your brother Ram -Dass, allowing the robbery, to which, too, I bore -witness, and all things else as the witnesses said. -There were many witnesses, and twice Ram Dass -became senseless in the Court because of his -wounds, and the Stunt Sahib—the <em>baba</em> Stunt -Sahib—gave him a chair before all the pleaders. -Why do you howl, Durga Dass? These things -fell as I have said. Was it not so?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>And Jowar Singh said: “That is truth. I was -there, and there was a red cushion in the chair.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>And Ram Narain said: “Great shame has come -upon the landholder because of this judgment, and -fearing his anger, Ram Dass and all his house -have gone back to Pali. Ram Dass told us that -you also had gone first, the enmity being healed -between you, to open a shop in Pali. Indeed, it -were well for you that you go even now, for the -landholder has sworn that if he catch any one of -your house, he will hang him by the heels from -the well-beam, and, swinging him to and fro, will -beat him with staves till the blood runs from his -ears. What I have said in respect to the case is -<span class='pageno' id='Page_262'>262</span>true, as these men here can testify—even to the -five hundred rupees.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>I said: “Was it five hundred?” And Kirpa -Ram, the Jat, said: “Five hundred; for I bore witness -also.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>And I groaned, for it had been in my heart to -have said two hundred only.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Then a new fear came upon me and my bowels -turned to water, and, running swiftly to the house -of Ram Dass, I sought for my books and my money -in the great wooden chest under my bedstead. -There remained nothing: not even a cowrie’s value. -All had been taken by the devil who said he was -my brother. I went to my own house also and -opened the boards of the shutters; but there also -was nothing save the rats among the grain-baskets. -In that hour my senses left me, and, tearing my -clothes, I ran to the well-place, crying out for the -Justice of the English on my brother Ram Dass, -and, in my madness, telling all that the books were -lost. When men saw that I would have jumped -down the well, they believed the truth of my talk; -more especially because upon my back and bosom -were still the marks of the staves of the landholder.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Jowar Singh the carpenter withstood me, and -turning me in his hands—for he is a very strong -man—showed the scars upon my body, and bowed -down with laughter upon the well-curb. He cried -aloud so that all heard him, from the well-square -<span class='pageno' id='Page_263'>263</span>to the Caravanserai of the Pilgrims: “Oho! The -jackals have quarrelled, and the gray one has been -caught in the trap. In truth, this man has been -grievously beaten, and his brother has taken the -money which the Court decreed! Oh, <em>bunnia</em>, this -shall be told for years against you! The jackals -have quarrelled, and, moreover, the books are -burned. O people indebted to Durga Dass—and -I know that ye be many—the books are -burned!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Then all Isser Jang took up the cry that the -books were burned—<em>Ahi! Ahi!</em> that in my folly -I had let that escape my mouth—and they laughed -throughout the city. They gave me the abuse of -the Punjabi, which is a terrible abuse and very hot; -pelting me also with sticks and cow-dung till I fell -down and cried for mercy.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Ram Narain, the letter-writer, bade the people -cease, for fear that the news should get into Montgomery, -and the Policemen might come down to -enquire. He said, using many bad words: “This -much mercy will I do to you, Durga Dass, though -there was no mercy in your dealings with my sister’s -son over the matter of the dun heifer. Has -any man a pony on which he sets no store, that -this fellow may escape? If the landholder hears -that one of the twain (and God knows whether he -beat one or both, but this man is certainly beaten) -be in the city, there will be a murder done, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_264'>264</span>then will come the Police, making inquisition into -each man’s house and eating the sweet-seller’s stuff -all day long.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Kirpa Ram, the Jat, said: “I have a pony very -sick. But with beating he can be made to walk -for two miles. If he dies, the hide-sellers will have -the body.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Then Chumbo, the hide-seller, said: “I will -pay three annas for the body, and will walk by -this man’s side till such time as the pony dies. If -it be more than two miles, I will pay two annas -only.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Kirpa Ram said: “Be it so.” Men brought out -the pony, and I asked leave to draw a little water -from the well, because I was dried up with fear.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Then Ram Narain said: “Here be four annas. -God has brought you very low, Durga Dass, and -I would not send you away empty, even though -the matter of my sister’s son’s dun heifer be an -open sore between us. It is a long way to your -own country. Go, and if it be so willed, live; -but, above all, do not take the pony’s bridle, for -that is mine.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>And I went out of Isser Jang, amid the laughing -of the huge-thighed Jats, and the hide-seller -walked by my side waiting for the pony to fall -dead. In one mile it died, and being full of fear -of the landholder, I ran till I could run no more, -and came to this place.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_265'>265</span>But I swear by the Cow, I swear by all things -whereon Hindus and Musalmans, and even the -Sahibs swear, that I, and not my brother, was -beaten by the landholder. But the case is shut -and the doors of the Law Courts are shut, and God -knows where the <em>baba</em> Stunt Sahib—the mother’s -milk is not yet dry upon his hairless lip—is gone. -<em>Ahi! Ahi!</em> I have no witnesses, and the scars will -heal, and I am a poor man. But, on my Father’s -Soul, on the oath of a Mahajun from Pali, I, and -not my brother, I was beaten by the landholder!</p> - -<p class='c001'>What can I do? The Justice of the English -is as a great river. Having gone forward, it does -not return. Howbeit, do you, Sahib, take a pen -and write clearly what I have said, that the Dipty -Sahib may see, and remove the Stunt Sahib, who -is a colt yet unlicked by the mare, so young is he. -I, and not my brother, was beaten, and he is gone -to the west—I do not know where.</p> - -<p class='c001'>But, above all things, write—so that Sahibs -may read, and his disgrace be accomplished—that -Ram Dass, my brother, son of Purun Dass, -Mahajun of Pali, is a swine and a night-thief, a -taker of life, an eater of flesh, a jackal-spawn without -beauty, or faith, or cleanliness, or honour!</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_266'>266</span> - <h2 class='c004'>THE LIMITATIONS OF PAMBÉ SERANG</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='small'>Copyright, 1891, by Macmillan & Co.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c005'>If you consider the circumstances of the case, it -was the only thing that he could do. But Pambé -Serang has been hanged by the neck till he is -dead, and Nurkeed is dead also.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Three years ago, when the Elsass-Lothringen -steamer <em>Saarbruck</em> was coaling at Aden and the -weather was very hot indeed, Nurkeed, the big -fat Zanzibar stoker who fed the second right furnace -thirty feet down in the hold, got leave to go -ashore. He departed “a Seedee boy,” as they -call the stokers; he returned the full-blooded Sultan -of Zanzibar—His Highness Sayyid Burgash, -with a bottle in each hand. Then he sat on the -fore-hatch grating, eating salt fish and onions, and -singing the songs of a far country. The food belonged -to Pambé, the serang or head man of the -lascar sailors. He had just cooked it for himself, -turned to borrow some salt, and when he came -back Nurkeed’s dirty black fingers were spading -into the rice.</p> - -<p class='c001'>A serang is a person of importance, far above a -stoker, though the stoker draws better pay. He -<span class='pageno' id='Page_267'>267</span>sets the chorus of “Hya! Hulla! Hee-ah! Heh!” -when the captain’s gig is pulled up to the davits; he -heaves the lead too; and sometimes, when all the -ship is lazy, he puts on his whitest muslin and a big -red sash, and plays with the passengers’ children -on the quarter-deck. Then the passengers give -him money, and he saves it all up for an orgy at -Bombay or Calcutta, or Pulu Penang.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Ho! you fat black barrel, you’re eating my -food!” said Pambé, in the Other Lingua Franca -that begins where the Levant tongue stops, and -runs from Port Said eastward till east is west, and -the sealing-brigs of the Kurile Islands gossip with -the strayed Hakodate junks.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Son of Eblis, monkey-face, dried shark’s liver, -pig-man, I am the Sultan Sayyid Burgash, and -the commander of all this ship. Take away your -garbage”; and Nurkeed thrust the empty pewter -rice-plate into Pambé’s hand.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Pambé beat it into a basin over Nurkeed’s -woolly head. Nurkeed drew his sheath-knife and -stabbed Pambé in the leg. Pambé drew <em>his</em> sheath-knife; -but Nurkeed dropped down into the darkness -of the hold and spat through the grating at -Pambé, who was staining the clean fore-deck with -his blood.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Only the white moon saw these things; for the -officers were looking after the coaling, and the -passengers were tossing in their close cabins. “All -<span class='pageno' id='Page_268'>268</span>right,” said Pambé—and went forward to tie up -his leg—“we will settle the account later on.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>He was a Malay born in India: married once -in Burma, where his wife had a cigar-shop on the -Shwe-Dagon road; once in Singapore, to a Chinese -girl; and once in Madras, to a Mahomedan woman -who sold fowls. The English sailor cannot, owing -to postal and telegraph facilities, marry as profusely -as he used to do; but native sailors can, -being uninfluenced by the barbarous inventions of -the Western savage. Pambé was a good husband -when he happened to remember the existence of a -wife; but he was also a very good Malay; and it -is not wise to offend a Malay, because he does not -forget anything. Moreover, in Pambé’s case blood -had been drawn and food spoiled.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Next morning Nurkeed rose with a blank mind. -He was no longer Sultan of Zanzibar, but a very -hot stoker. So he went on deck and opened his -jacket to the morning breeze, till a sheath-knife -came like a flying-fish and stuck into the wood-work -of the cook’s galley half an inch from his -right armpit. He ran down below before his -time, trying to remember what he could have said -to the owner of the weapon. At noon, when all -the ship’s lascars were feeding, Nurkeed advanced -into their midst, and, being a placid man with a -large regard for his own skin, he opened negotiations, -saying, “Men of the ship, last night I was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_269'>269</span>drunk, and this morning I know that I behaved -unseemly to some one or another of you. Who -was that man, that I may meet him face to face -and say that I was drunk?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Pambé measured the distance to Nurkeed’s -naked breast. If he sprang at him he might be -tripped up, and a blind blow at the chest sometimes -only means a gash on the breast-bone. Ribs -are difficult to thrust between unless the subject be -asleep. So he said nothing; nor did the other lascars. -Their faces immediately dropped all expression, -as is the custom of the Oriental when there -is killing on the carpet or any chance of trouble. -Nurkeed looked long at the white eyeballs. He -was only an African, and could not read characters. -A big sigh—almost a groan—broke from him, -and he went back to the furnaces. The lascars -took up the conversation where he had interrupted -it. They talked of the best methods of cooking -rice.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Nurkeed suffered considerably from lack of -fresh air during the run to Bombay. He only -came on deck to breathe when all the world was -about; and even then a heavy block once dropped -from a derrick within a foot of his head, and an -apparently firm-lashed grating on which he set his -foot began to turn over with the intention of dropping -him on the cased cargo fifteen feet below; and -one insupportable night the sheath-knife dropped -<span class='pageno' id='Page_270'>270</span>from the fo’c’s’le, and this time it drew blood. So -Nurkeed made complaint; and, when the <em>Saarbruck</em> -reached Bombay, fled and buried himself -among eight hundred thousand people, and did -not sign articles till the ship had been a month -gone from the port. Pambé waited too; but his -Bombay wife grew clamorous, and he was forced -to sign in the <em>Spicheren</em> to Hongkong, because he -realised that all play and no work gives Jack a -ragged shirt. In the foggy China seas he thought -a great deal of Nurkeed, and, when Elsass-Lothringen -steamers lay in port with the <em>Spicheren</em>, inquired -after him and found he had gone to England -<span lang="la" xml:lang="la"><em>via</em></span> the Cape, on the <em>Gravelotte</em>. Pambé came -to England on the <em>Worth</em>. The <em>Spicheren</em> met her -by the Nore Light. Nurkeed was going out with -the <em>Spicheren</em> to the Calicut coast.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Want to find a friend, my trap-mouthed coal-scuttle?” -said a gentleman in the mercantile service. -“Nothing easier. Wait at the Nyanza -Docks till he comes. Every one comes to the -Nyanza Docks. Wait, you poor heathen.” The -gentleman spoke truth. There are three great -doors in the world where, if you stand long enough, -you shall meet any one you wish. The head of -the Suez Canal is one, but there Death comes also; -Charing Cross Station is the second—for inland -work; and the Nyanza Docks is the third. At -each of these places are men and women looking -<span class='pageno' id='Page_271'>271</span>eternally for those who will surely come. So -Pambé waited at the docks. Time was no object -to him; and the wives could wait, as he did from -day to day, week to week, and month to month, -by the Blue Diamond funnels, the Red Dot smoke-stacks, -the Yellow Streaks, and the nameless dingy -gypsies of the sea that loaded and unloaded, jostled, -whistled, and roared in the everlasting fog. When -money failed, a kind gentleman told Pambé to become -a Christian; and Pambé became one with -great speed, getting his religious teachings between -ship and ship’s arrival, and six or seven shillings a -week for distributing tracts to mariners. What -the faith was Pambé did not in the least care; but -he knew if he said “Native Ki-lis-ti-an, Sar,” to -men with long black coats he might get a few -coppers; and the tracts were vendible at a little -public-house that sold shag by the “dottel,” which -is even smaller weight than the half-screw, which -is less than the half-ounce, and a most profitable -retail trade.</p> - -<p class='c001'>But after eight months Pambé fell sick with -pneumonia, contracted from long standing still in -slush; and much against his will he was forced to -lie down in his two-and-sixpenny room raging -against Fate.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The kind gentleman sat by his bedside, and -grieved to find that Pambé talked in strange -tongues, instead of listening to good books, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_272'>272</span>almost seemed to become a benighted heathen -again—till one day he was roused from semi-stupor -by a voice in the street by the dock-head. -“My friend—he,” whispered Pambé. -“Call now—call Nurkeed. Quick! God has -sent him!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“He wanted one of his own race,” said the kind -gentleman; and, going out, he called “Nurkeed!” -at the top of his voice. An excessively coloured -man in a rasping white shirt and brand-new slops, -a shining hat, and a breast-pin, turned round. -Many voyages had taught Nurkeed how to spend -his money and made him a citizen of the world.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Hi! Yes!” said he, when the situation was -explained. “Command him—black nigger—when -I was in the <em>Saarbruck</em>. Ole Pambé, good -ole Pambé. Dam lascar. Show him up, Sar”; -and he followed into the room. One glance told -the stoker what the kind gentleman had overlooked. -Pambé was desperately poor. Nurkeed -drove his hands deep into his pockets, then advanced -with clenched fists on the sick, shouting, -“Hya, Pambé. Hya! Hee-ah! Hulla! Heh! -Takilo! Takilo! Make fast aft, Pambé. You -know, Pambé. You know me. Dekho, jee! -Look! Dam big fat lazy lascar!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Pambé beckoned with his left hand. His right -was under his pillow. Nurkeed removed his gorgeous -hat and stooped over Pambé till he could -<span class='pageno' id='Page_273'>273</span>catch a faint whisper. “How beautiful!” said the -kind gentleman. “How these Orientals love like -children!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Spit him out,” said Nurkeed, leaning over -Pambé yet more closely.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Touching the matter of that fish and onions,” -said Pambé—and sent the knife home under the -edge of the rib-bone upwards and forwards.</p> - -<p class='c001'>There was a thick, sick cough, and the body of -the African slid slowly from the bed, his clutching -hands letting fall a shower of silver pieces that ran -across the room.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Now I can die!” said Pambé.</p> - -<p class='c001'>But he did not die. He was nursed back to life -with all the skill that money could buy, for the -Law wanted him; and in the end he grew sufficiently -healthy to be hanged in due and proper -form.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Pambé did not care particularly; but it was a -sad blow to the kind gentleman.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_274'>274</span> - <h2 class='c004'>ONE VIEW OF THE QUESTION</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='small'>Copyright, 1893, by D. Appleton & Co.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c012'><em>From Shafiz Ullah Khan, son of Hyat Ullah Khan, -in the honoured service of His Highness the Rao -Sahib of Jagesur, which is in the northern borders -of Hindustan, and Orderly to His Highness, this to -Kazi Jamal-ud-Din, son of Kazi Ferisht ud Din -Khan, in the service of the Rao Sahib, a minister -much honoured. From that place which they call -the Northbrook Club, in the town of London, under -the shadow of the Empress, it is written</em>:</p> - -<p class='c022'>Between brother and chosen brother be no long -protestations of Love and Sincerity. Heart -speaks naked to Heart, and the Head answers -for all. Glory and Honour on thy house till -the ending of the years, and a tent in the borders -of Paradise.</p> - -<p class='c023'><span class='sc'>My Brother</span>,—In regard to that for which I was -despatched follows the account. I have purchased -for the Rao Sahib, and paid sixty pounds in every -hundred, the things he most desired. Thus, two -of the great fawn-coloured tiger-dogs, male and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_275'>275</span>female, their pedigree being written upon paper, -and silver collars adorning their necks. For the -Rao Sahib’s greater pleasure I send them at once -by the steamer, in charge of a man who will render -account of them at Bombay to the bankers -there. They are the best of all dogs in this place. -Of guns I have bought five—two silver-sprigged -in the stock, with gold scroll-work about the hammer, -both double-barrelled, hard-striking, cased in -velvet and red leather; three of unequalled workmanship, -but lacking adornment; a pump-gun -that fires fourteen times—this when the Rao -Sahib drives pig; a double-barrelled shell-gun -for tiger, and that is a miracle of workmanship; -and a fowling-piece no lighter than a feather, -with green and blue cartridges by the thousand. -Also a very small rifle for blackbuck, that yet -would slay a man at four hundred paces. The -harness with the golden crests for the Rao Sahib’s -coach is not yet complete, by reason of the difficulty -of lining the red velvet into leather; but -the two-horse harness and the great saddle with -the golden holsters that is for state use have been -put with camphor into a tin box, and I have -signed it with my ring. Of the grained-leather -case of women’s tools and tweezers for the hair -and beard, of the perfumes and the silks, and all -that was wanted by the women behind the curtains, -I have no knowledge. They are matters -<span class='pageno' id='Page_276'>276</span>of long coming, and the hawk-bells, hoods, and -jesses with the golden lettering are as much delayed -as they. Read this in the Rao Sahib’s ear, -and speak of my diligence and zeal, that favour -may not be abated by absence, and keep the eye -of constraint upon that jesting dog without teeth—Bahadur -Shah—for by thy aid and voice, and -what I have done in regard to the guns, I look, -as thou knowest, for the headship of the army of -Jagesur. That conscienceless one desires it also, -and I have heard that the Rao Sahib leans thatward. -Have ye done, then, with the drinking of -wine in your house, my brother, or has Bahadur -Shah become a forswearer of brandy? I would -not that drink should end him, but the well-mixed -draught leads to madness. Consider.</p> - -<p class='c001'>And now in regard to this land of the Sahibs, -follows that thou hast demanded. God is my witness -that I have striven to understand all that I -saw and a little of what I heard. My words and -intention are those of truth, yet it may be that -I write of nothing but lies.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Since the first wonder and bewilderment of my -beholding is gone—we note the jewels in the -ceiling-dome, but later the filth on the floor—I -see clearly that this town, London, which is as -large as all Jagesur, is accursed, being dark and -unclean, devoid of sun, and full of low-born, who -are perpetually drunk, and howl in the streets like -<span class='pageno' id='Page_277'>277</span>jackals, men and women together. At nightfall -it is the custom of countless thousands of women -to descend into the streets and sweep them, roaring, -making jests, and demanding liquor. At the -hour of this attack it is the custom of the householders -to take their wives and children to the -playhouses and the places of entertainment; evil -and good thus returning home together as do kine -from the pools at sundown. I have never seen -any sight like this sight in all the world, and I -doubt that a double is to be found on the hither -side of the gates of Hell. Touching the mystery -of their craft, it is an ancient one, but the householders -assemble in herds, being men and women, -and cry aloud to their God that it is not there; -the said women pounding at the doors without. -Moreover, upon the day when they go to -prayer the drink-places are only opened when the -mosques are shut; as who should dam the Jumna -river for Friday only. Therefore the men and -women, being forced to accomplish their desires -in the shorter space, become the more furiously -drunk, and roll in the gutter together. They are -there regarded by those going to pray. Further, -and for visible sign that the place is forgotten of -God, there falls upon certain days, without warning, -a cold darkness, whereby the sun’s light is altogether -cut off from all the city and the people, -male and female, and the drivers of the vehicles -<span class='pageno' id='Page_278'>278</span>grope and howl in this Pit at high noon, none -seeing the other. The air being filled with the -smoke of Hell—sulphur and pitch as it is written—they -die speedily with gaspings, and so are -buried in the dark. This is a terror beyond the -pen, but by my hand I write of what I have seen!</p> - -<p class='c001'>It is not true that the Sahibs worship one God, -as do we of the Faith, or that the differences in -their creed be like those now running between -Shiah and Sunni. I am but a fighting man, and -no darvesh, caring, as thou knowest, as much for -Shiah as Sunni. But I have spoken to many people -of the nature of their Gods. One there is who -is the head of the Mukht-i-Fauj,<a id='r2' /><a href='#f2' class='c020'><sup>[2]</sup></a> and he is worshipped -by men in blood-red clothes, who shout -and become without sense. Another is an image, -before whom they burn candles and incense in just -such a place as I have seen when I went to Rangoon -to buy Burma ponies for the Rao. Yet a -third has naked altars facing a great assembly of -dead. To him they sing chiefly; and for others -there is a woman who was the mother of the great -prophet that was before Mahomed. The common -folk have no God, but worship those who -may speak to them hanging from the lamps in -the street. The most wise people worship themselves -and such things as they have made with -their mouths and their hands, and this is to be -<span class='pageno' id='Page_279'>279</span>found notably among the barren women, of whom -there are many. Thou wilt not believe this, my -brother. Nor did I when I was first told, but now -it is nothing to me; so greatly has the foot of -travel let out the stirrup-holes of belief.</p> - -<div class='footnote' id='f2'> -<p class='c001'><a href='#r2'>2</a>. Salvation Army.</p> -</div> - -<p class='c001'>But thou wilt say, “What matter to us whether -Ahmed’s beard or Mahmud’s be the longer! -Speak what thou canst of the Accomplishment -of Desire.” Would that thou wert here to talk -face to face; to walk abroad with me and learn.</p> - -<p class='c001'>With this people it is a matter of Heaven and -Hell whether Ahmed’s beard and Mahmud’s tally -or differ but by a hair. Thou knowest the system -of their statecraft? It is this. Certain men, appointing -themselves, go about and speak to the -low-born, the peasants, the leather-workers, and -the cloth-dealers, and the women, saying: “Give -us leave by your favour to speak for you in the -council.” Securing that permission by large promises, -they return to the council-place, and, sitting -unarmed, some six hundred together, speak at -random each for himself and his own ball of low-born. -The viziers and dewans of the Empress -must ever beg money at their hands, for unless -more than a half of the six hundred be of one -heart towards the spending of the revenues, neither -horse can be shod, rifle loaded, or man clothed -throughout the land. Remember this very continually. -The six hundred are above the Empress, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_280'>280</span>above the Viceroy of India, above the -Head of the Army and every other power that -thou hast ever known. Because they hold the -revenues.</p> - -<p class='c001'>They are divided into two hordes—the one -perpetually hurling abuse at the other, and bidding -the low-born hamper and rebel against all -that the other may devise for government. Except -that they sit unarmed, and so call each other -liar, dog, and bastard without fear, even under the -shadow of the Empress’s throne, they are at bitter -war which is without any end. They pit lie -against lie, till the low-born and common folk -grow drunk with lies, and in their turn begin to -lie and refuse to pay the revenues. Further, they -divide their women into bands, and send them -into this fight with yellow flowers in their hands, -and since the belief of a woman is but her lover’s -belief stripped of judgment, very many wild words -are added. Well said the slave girl to Mámún -in the delectable pages of the Son of Abdullah:—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c017'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Oppression and the sword slay fast—</div> - <div class='line'>Thy breath kills slowly but at last.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'>If they desire a thing they declare that it is true. -If they desire it not, though that were Death itself, -they cry aloud, “It has never been.” Thus -their talk is the talk of children, and like children -<span class='pageno' id='Page_281'>281</span>they snatch at what they covet, not considering -whether it be their own or another’s. And in their -councils, when the army of unreason has come to -the defile of dispute, and there is no more talk left -on either side, they, dividing, count heads, and the -will of that side which has the larger number of -heads makes that law. But the outnumbered side -run speedily among the common people and bid -them trample on that law, and slay the officers -thereof. Follow slaughter by night of men unarmed, -and the slaughter of cattle and insults to -women. They do not cut off the noses of women, -but they crop their hair and scrape the flesh with -pins. Then those shameless ones of the council -stand up before the judges wiping their mouths -and making oath. They say: “Before God we -are free from blame. Did we say ‘Heave that -stone out of that road and kill that one and no -other’?” So they are not made shorter by the -head because they said only: “Here are stones and -yonder is such a fellow obeying the Law which is -no law because we do not desire it.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Read this in the Rao Sahib’s ear, and ask him -if he remembers that season when the Manglôt -headmen refused revenue, not because they could -not pay, but because they judged the cess extreme. -I and thou went out with the troopers all one day -and the black lances raised the thatch, so that there -was hardly any need of firing; and no man was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_282'>282</span>slain. But this land is at secret war and veiled -killing. In five years of peace they have slain -within their own borders and of their own kin more -men than would have fallen had the ball of dissension -been left to the mallet of the army. And -yet there is no hope of peace, for soon the sides -again divide, and then they will cause to be slain -more men unarmed and in the fields. And so -much for that matter, which is to our advantage. -There is a better thing to be told, and one tending -to the Accomplishment of Desire. Read here -with a fresh mind after sleep. I write as I understand.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Above all this war without honour lies that -which I find hard to put into writing, and thou -knowest I am unhandy of the pen. I will ride -the steed of Inability sideways at the wall of Expression. -The earth underfoot is sick and sour -with the much handling of man, as a grazing-ground -sours under cattle; and the air is sick too. -Upon the ground they have laid in this town, as it -were, the stinking boards of a stable, and through -these boards, between a thousand thousand houses, -the rank humours of the earth sweat through to -the over-burdened air that returns them to their -breeding-place; for the smoke of their cooking-fires -keeps all in as the cover the juices of the sheep. -And in like manner there is a green-sickness -among the people, and especially among the six -<span class='pageno' id='Page_283'>283</span>hundred men who talk. Neither winter nor -autumn abates that malady of the soul. I have -seen it among women in our own country, and in -boys not yet blooded to the sword; but I have -never seen so much thereof before. Through the -peculiar operation of this air the people, abandoning -honour and steadfastness, question all authority, -not as men question, but as girls, whimperingly, -with pinchings in the back when the back -is turned, and mowing. If one cries in the streets, -“There has been an injustice,” they take him not -to make complaint to those appointed, but all who -pass, drinking his words, fly clamorously to the -house of the accused and write evil things of him, -his wives and his daughters; for they take no -thought to the weighing of evidence, but are as -women. And with one hand they beat their constables -who guard the streets, and with the other -beat the constables for resenting that beating, and -fine them. When they have in all things made -light of the State they cry to the State for help, -and it is given; so that the next time they will cry -more. Such as are oppressed riot through the -streets, bearing banners that hold four days’ labour -and a week’s bread in cost and toil; and when -neither horse nor foot can pass by they are satisfied. -Others, receiving wages, refuse to work till -they get more, and the priests help them, and also -men of the six hundred—for where rebellion is -<span class='pageno' id='Page_284'>284</span>one of those men will come as a kite to a dead -bullock—and priests, talker, and men together declare -that it is right because these will not work -that no others may attempt. In this manner they -have so confused the loading and the unloading of -the ships that come to this town that, in sending -the Rao Sahib’s guns and harness, I saw fit to send -the cases by the train to another ship that sailed -from another place. There is now no certainty in -any sending. But who injures the merchants shuts -the door of well-being on the city and the army. -And ye know what Sa’adi saith:—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c017'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“How may the merchant westward fare</div> - <div class='line'>When he hears the tale of the tumults there?”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'>No man can keep faith, because he cannot tell -how his underlings will go. They have made the -servant greater than the master, for that he is the -servant; not reckoning that each is equal under -God to the appointed task. That is a thing to be -put aside in the cupboard of the mind.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Further, the misery and outcry of the common -folk, of whom the earth’s bosom is weary, has so -wrought upon the minds of certain people who -have never slept under fear nor seen the flat edge -of the sword on the heads of a mob, that they cry -out: “Let us abate everything that is, and altogether -labour with our bare hands.” Their hands -<span class='pageno' id='Page_285'>285</span>in that employ would fester at the second stroke; -and I have seen, for all their unrest at the agonies -of others, that they abandon no whit of soft living. -Unknowing the common folk, or indeed the -minds of men, they offer strong drink of words, -such as they themselves use, to empty bellies; -and that wine breeds drunkenness of soul. The -distressful persons stand all day long at the door of -the drink-places to the number of very many thousands. -The well-wishing people of small discernment -give them words or pitifully attempt in -schools to turn them into craftsmen, weavers, or -builders, of whom there be more than enough. -Yet they have not the wisdom to look at the hands -of the taught, whereon a man’s craft and that of -his father is written by God and Necessity. They -believe that the son of a drunkard shall drive a -straight chisel and the charioteer do plaster-work. -They take no thought in the dispensation of generosity, -which is as the closed fingers of a water-scooping -palm. Therefore the rough timber of a -very great army drifts unhewn through the slime -of their streets. If the Government, which is to-day -and to-morrow changes, spent on these hopeless -ones some money to clothe and equip, I should -not write what I write. But these people despise -the trade of arms, and rest content with the memory -of old battles; the women and the talking-men -aiding them.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_286'>286</span>Thou wilt say: “Why speak continually of -women and fools?” I answer by God, the Fashioner -of the Heart, the fools sit among the six -hundred, and the women sway their councils. Hast -thou forgotten when the order came across the -seas that rotted out the armies of the English with -us, so that soldiers fell sick by the hundred where -but ten had sickened before? That was the work -of not more than twenty of the men and some -fifty of the barren women. I have seen three or -four of them, male and female, and they triumph -openly, in the name of their God, because three -regiments of the white troops are not. This is to -our advantage, because the sword with the rust-spot -breaks over the turban of the enemy. But if -they thus tear their own flesh and blood ere their -madness be risen to its height, what will they do -when the moon is full?</p> - -<p class='c001'>Seeing that power lay in the hands of the six -hundred, and not in the Viceroy or elsewhere, I -have throughout my stay sought the shadow of -those among them who talk most and most extravagantly. -They lead the common folk, and -receive permission of their good-will. It is the -desire of some of these men—indeed, of almost -as many as caused the rotting of the English army—that -our lands and peoples should accurately -resemble those of the English upon this very day. -May God, the Contemner of Folly, forbid! I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_287'>287</span>myself am accounted a show among them, and of -us and ours they know naught, some calling me -Hindu and others Rajput, and using towards me, -in ignorance, slave-talk and expressions of great -disrespect. Some of them are well-born, but the -greater part are low-born, coarse-skinned, waving -their arms, high-voiced, without dignity, slack in -the mouth, shifty-eyed, and, as I have said, swayed -by the wind of a woman’s cloak.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Now this is a tale but two days old. There -was a company at meat, and a high-voiced woman -spoke to me, in the face of the men, of the affairs -of our womankind. It was her ignorance that -made each word an edged insult. Remembering -this, I held my peace till she had spoken a new -law as to the control of our zenanas, and of all -who are behind the curtains.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Then I—“Hast thou ever felt the life stir under -thy heart or laid a little son between thy breasts, -O most unhappy?” Thereto she, hotly, with a -haggard eye—“No, for I am a free woman, and -no servant of babes.” Then I, softly—“God deal -lightly with thee, my sister, for thou art in heavier -bondage than any slave, and the fuller half of the -earth is hidden from thee. The first ten years of -the life of a man are his mother’s, and from the -dusk to the dawn surely the wife may command -the husband. Is it a great thing to stand back in -the waking hours while the men go abroad unhampered -<span class='pageno' id='Page_288'>288</span>by thy hands on the bridle-rein?” Then -she wondered that a heathen should speak thus: -yet she is a woman honoured among these men, -and openly professes that she hath no profession -of faith in her mouth. Read this in the ear of the -Rao Sahib, and demand how it would fare with -me if I brought such a woman for his use. It -were worse than that yellow desert-bred girl from -Cutch, who set the girls to fighting for her own -pleasure, and slippered the young prince across the -mouth. Rememberest thou?</p> - -<p class='c001'>In truth the fountain-head of power is putrid -with long standing still. These men and women -would make of all India a dung-cake, and would -fain leave the mark of the fingers upon it. And -they have power and the control of the revenues, -and that is why I am so particular in description. -<em>They have power over all India.</em> Of what they -speak they understand nothing, for the low-born’s -soul is bounded by his field, and he grasps not the -connection of affairs from pole to pole. They boast -openly that the Viceroy and the others are their -servants. When the masters are mad, what shall -the servants do?</p> - -<p class='c001'>Some hold that all war is sin, and Death the -greatest fear under God. Others declare with the -Prophet that it is evil to drink, to which teaching -their streets bear evident witness; and others there -are, specially the low-born, who aver that all dominion -<span class='pageno' id='Page_289'>289</span>is wicked and sovereignty of the sword -accursed. These protested to me, making, as it -were, an apology that their kin should hold -Hindustan, and hoping that some day they would -withdraw. Knowing well the breed of white man -in our borders, I would have laughed, but forbore, -remembering that these speakers had power in the -counting of heads. Yet others cry aloud against -the taxation of Hindustan under the Sahibs’ rule. -To this I assent, remembering the yearly mercy -of the Rao Sahib when the turbans of the troopers -come through the blighted corn, and the women’s -anklets go into the melting-pot. But I am no -good speaker. <em>That</em> is the duty of the boys from -Bengal—hill-asses with an eastern bray—Mahrattas -from Poona, and the like. These, moving -among fools, represent themselves as the sons of -some one, being beggar-taught, offspring of grain-dealers, -curriers, sellers of bottles, and money-lenders, -as thou knowest. Now, we of Jagesur -owe naught save friendship to the English who -took us by the sword, and having taken us let us -go, assuring the Rao Sahib’s succession for all -time. But <em>these</em> base-born, having won their learning -through the mercy of the Government, attired -in English clothes, forswearing the faith of their -fathers for gain, spread rumour and debate against -the Government, and are therefore very dear to -certain of the six hundred. I have heard these -<span class='pageno' id='Page_290'>290</span>cattle speak as princes and rulers of men, and I -have laughed, but not altogether.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Once it happened that a son of some grain-bag -sat with me at meat, who was arrayed and speaking -after the manner of the English. At each -mouthful he committed perjury against the salt -that he had eaten, the men and women applauding. -When, craftily falsifying, he had magnified -oppression and invented untold wrong, together -with the desecration of his tun-bellied gods, he -demanded in the name of his people the government -of all our land, and turning, laid palm to -my shoulder, saying—“Here is one who is with -us, albeit he professes another faith; he will bear -out my words.” This he delivered in English, -and, as it were, exhibited me to that company. -Preserving a smiling countenance, I answered in -our own tongue—“Take away that hand, man -without a father, or the folly of these folk shall not -save thee, nor my silence guard thy reputation. -Sit off, herd!” And in their speech I said—“He -speaks truth. When the favour and wisdom -of the English allows us yet a little larger -share in the burden and the reward, the Musalman -will deal with the Hindu.” He alone saw -what was in my heart. I was merciful towards -him because he was accomplishing our desires; -but remember that his father is one Durga Charan -Laha, in Calcutta. Lay thy hand upon <em>his</em> shoulder -<span class='pageno' id='Page_291'>291</span>if ever chance sends. It is not good that -bottle-dealers and auctioneers should paw the sons -of princes. I walk abroad sometimes with the -man, that all the world may know the Hindu and -Musalman are one, but when we come to the unfrequented -streets I bid him walk behind me, and -that is sufficient honour.</p> - -<p class='c001'>And why did I eat dirt?</p> - -<p class='c001'>Thus, my brother, it seems to my heart, which -has almost burst in the consideration of these -matters. The Bengalis and the beggar-taught -boys know well that the Sahibs’ power to govern -comes neither from the Viceroy nor the head of -the army, but from the hands of the six hundred -in this town, and peculiarly those who talk most. -They will therefore yearly address themselves more -and more to that protection, and working on the -green-sickness of the land, as has ever been their -custom, will in time cause, through the perpetually -instigated interference of the six hundred, the hand -of the Indian Government to become inoperative, -so that no measure nor order may be carried through -without clamour and argument on their part; for -that is the delight of the English at this hour. -Have I overset the bounds of possibility? No. -Even thou must have heard that one of the six -hundred, having neither knowledge, fear, nor reverence -before his eyes, has made in sport a new -and a written scheme for the government of Bengal, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_292'>292</span>and openly shows it abroad as a king might -read his crowning proclamation. And this man, -meddling in affairs of State, speaks in the council -for an assemblage of leather-dressers, makers of -boots and harness, and openly glories in that he -has no God. Has either minister of the Empress, -Empress, Viceroy, or any other raised a voice -against this leather-man? Is not his power therefore -to be sought, and that of his like-thinkers with -it? Thou seest.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The telegraph is the servant of the six hundred, -and all the Sahibs in India, omitting not one, are -the servants of the telegraph. Yearly, too, thou -knowest, the beggar-taught will hold that which -they call their Congress, first at one place and then -at another, leavening Hindustan with rumour, -echoing the talk among the low-born people here, -and demanding that they, like the six hundred, -control the revenues. And they will bring every -point and letter over the heads of the Governors -and the Lieutenant-Governors, and whoever hold -authority, and cast it clamorously at the feet of the -six hundred here; and certain of those word-confounders -and the barren women will assent to their -demands, and others will weary of disagreement -Thus fresh confusion will be thrown into the councils -of the Empress, even as an island near by is -helped and comforted into the smothered war of -which I have written. Then yearly, as they have -<span class='pageno' id='Page_293'>293</span>begun and we have seen, the low-born men of the -six hundred anxious for honour will embark for -our land, and, staying a little while, will gather -round them and fawn before the beggar-taught, -and these departing from their side will assuredly -inform the peasants, and the fighting men for whom -there is no employ, that there is a change toward -and a coming of help from over the seas. That rumour -will not grow smaller in the spreading. And, -most of all, the Congress, when it is not under the -eye of the six hundred—who, though they foment -dissension and death, pretend great reverence for -the law which is no law—will, stepping aside, deliver -uneasy words to the peasants, speaking, as it -has done already, of the remission of taxation, -and promising a new rule. That is to our advantage, -but the flower of danger is in the seed of it. -Thou knowest what evil a rumour may do; though -in the Black Year, when thou and I were young, -our standing to the English brought gain to Jagesur -and enlarged our borders, for the Government -gave us land on both sides. Of the Congress -itself nothing is to be feared that ten troopers -could not remove, but if its words too soon perturb -the minds of those waiting or <em>of princes in -idleness</em>, a flame may come <em>before the time</em>, and since -there are now many white hands to quench it, all -will return to the former condition. If the flame -be kept under we need have no fear, because, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_294'>294</span>sweating and panting, the one trampling on the -other, the white people here are digging their own -graves. The hand of the Viceroy will be tied, -the hearts of the Sahibs will be downcast, and all -eyes will turn to England disregarding any orders. -Meantime, keeping tally on the sword-hilt against -the hour when the score must be made smooth by -the blade, it is well for us to assist and greatly befriend -the Bengali that he may get control of the -revenues and the posts. We must even write to -England that we be of one blood with the schoolmen. -It is not long to wait; by my head it is -not long! This people are like the great king -Ferisht, who, eaten with the scab of long idleness, -plucked off his crown and danced naked among -the dung-hills. But I have not forgotten the profitable -end of that tale. The vizier set him upon -a horse and led him into battle. Presently his -health returned, and he caused to be engraven on -the crown:—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c017'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Though I was cast away by the king</div> - <div class='line'>Yet, through God, I returned and he added to my brilliance</div> - <div class='line'>Two great rubies (Balkh and Iran).”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c019'>If this people be purged and bled out by battle, -their sickness may go and their eyes be cleared to -the necessities of things. But they are now far -gone in rottenness. Even the stallion, too long -heel-roped, forgets how to fight: and these men -<span class='pageno' id='Page_295'>295</span>are mules. I do not lie when I say that unless -they are bled and taught with the whip, they will -hear and obey all that is said by the Congress and -the black men here, hoping to turn our land into -their own orderless Jehannum. For the men of -the six hundred, being chiefly low-born and unused -to authority, desire much to exercise rule, -extending their arms to the sun and moon, and -shouting very greatly in order to hear the echo -of their voices, each one saying some new strange -thing and parting the goods and honour of others -among the rapacious, that he may obtain the favour -of the common folk. And all this is to our -advantage.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Therefore write, that they may read, of gratitude -and of love and the law. I myself, when I return, -will show how the dish should be dressed to take -the taste here; for it is here that we must come. -Cause to be established in Jagesur a newspaper, -and fill it with translations of their papers. A -beggar-taught may be brought from Calcutta for -thirty rupees a month, and if he writes in Gurmukhi -our people cannot read. Create, further, -councils other than the panchayats of headmen, -village by village and district by district, instructing -them beforehand what to say according to the -order of the Rao. Print all these things in a book -in English, and send it to this place, and to every -man of the six hundred. Bid the beggar-taught -<span class='pageno' id='Page_296'>296</span>write in front of all that Jagesur follows fast on -the English plan. If thou squeezest the Hindu -shrine at Theegkot, and it is ripe, remit the head-tax, -and perhaps the marriage-tax, with great -publicity. But above all things keep the troops -ready, and in good pay, even though we glean -the stubble with the wheat and stint the Rao -Sahib’s women. All must go softly. Protest -thou thy love for the voice of the common people -in all things, and affect to despise the troops. -That shall be taken for a witness in this land. -The headship of the troops must be mine. See -that Bahadur Shah’s wits go wandering over the -wine, but do not send him to God. I am an old -man, but I may yet live to lead.</p> - -<p class='c001'>If this people be not bled out and regain -strength, we, watching how the tide runs, when -we see that the shadow of their hand is all but -lifted from Hindustan, must bid the Bengali demand -the removal of the residue or set going an -uneasiness to that end. We must have a care -neither to hurt the life of the Englishmen nor the -honour of their women, for in that case six times -the six hundred here could not hold those who -remain from making the land swim. We must -care that they are not mobbed by the Bengalis, -but honourably escorted, while the land is held -down with the threat of the sword if a hair of -their heads fall. Thus we shall gain a good name, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_297'>297</span>and when rebellion is unaccompanied by bloodshed, -as has lately befallen in a far country, the -English, disregarding honour, call it by a new -name: even one who has been a minister of the -Empress, but is now at war against the law, praises -it openly before the common folk. So greatly -are they changed since the days of Nikhal Seyn!<a id='r3' /><a href='#f3' class='c020'><sup>[3]</sup></a> -And then, if all go well and the Sahibs, who -through continual checking and browbeating will -have grown sick at heart, see themselves abandoned -by their kin—for this people have allowed -their greatest to die on dry sand through delay -and fear of expense—we may go forward. This -people are swayed by names. A new name therefore -must be given to the rule of Hindustan (and -that the Bengalis may settle among themselves), -and there will be many writings and oaths of love, -such as the little island over seas makes when it -would fight more bitterly; and after that the residue -are diminished the hour comes, and we must -strike so that the Sword is never any more questioned.</p> - -<div class='footnote' id='f3'> -<p class='c001'><a href='#r3'>3</a>. Nicholson, a gentleman once of some notoriety in India.</p> -</div> - -<p class='c001'>By the favour of God and the conservation of -the Sahibs these many years, Hindustan contains -very much plunder, which we can in no way eat -hurriedly. There will be to our hand the scaffolding -of the house of state, for the Bengali shall continue -to do our work, and must account to us for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_298'>298</span>the revenue, and learn his seat in the order of -things. Whether the Hindu kings of the West -will break in to share that spoil before we have -swept it altogether, thou knowest better than I; -but be certain that, <em>then</em>, strong hands will seek -their own thrones, and it may be that the days of -the king of Delhi will return if we only, curbing -our desires, pay due obedience to the outward -appearances and the names. Thou rememberest -the old song:—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c017'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Hadst thou not called it Love, I had said it were a drawn sword,</div> - <div class='line'>But since thou hast spoken, I believe and—I die.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c019'>It is in my heart that there will remain in our -land a few Sahibs undesirous of returning to England. -These we must cherish and protect, that by -their skill and cunning we may hold together and -preserve unity in time of war. The Hindu kings -will never trust a Sahib in the core of their counsels. -I say again that if we of the Faith confide -in them, we shall trample upon our enemies.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Is all this a dream to thee, gray fox of my -mother’s bearing? I have written of what I have -seen and heard, but from the same clay two men -will never fashion platters alike, nor from the same -facts draw equal conclusions. Once more, there -is a green-sickness upon all the people of this -country. They eat dirt even now to stay their -<span class='pageno' id='Page_299'>299</span>cravings. Honour and stability have departed -from their councils, and the knife of dissension -has brought down upon their heads the flapping -tent-flies of confusion. The Empress is old. They -speak disrespectfully of her and hers in the street. -They despise the sword, and believe that the tongue -and the pen sway all. The measure of their ignorance -and their soft belief is greater than the measure -of the wisdom of Solomon, the son of David. -All these things I have seen whom they regard as -a wild beast and a spectacle. By God the Enlightener -of Intelligence, if the Sahibs in India -could breed sons who lived so that their houses -might be established, I would almost fling my -sword at the Viceroy’s feet, saying: “Let us here -fight for a kingdom together, thine and mine, disregarding -the babble across the water. Write a -letter to England, saying that we love them, but -would depart from their camps and make all clean -under a new crown.” But the Sahibs die out at -the third generation in our land, and it may be -that I dream dreams. Yet not altogether. Until -a white calamity of steel and bloodshed, the bearing -of burdens, the trembling for life, and the hot -rage of insult—<em>for pestilence would unman them if -eyes not unused to men see clear</em>—befall this people, -our path is safe. They are sick. The Fountain -of Power is a gutter which all may defile; and the -voices of the men are overborne by the squealings -<span class='pageno' id='Page_300'>300</span>of mules and the whinnying of barren mares. If -through adversity they become wise, then, my -brother, strike with and for them, and later, when -thou and I are dead, and the disease grows up -again (the young men bred in the school of fear -and trembling and word-confounding have yet to -live out their appointed span), those who have -fought on the side of the English may ask and receive -what they choose. At present seek quietly -to confuse, and delay, and evade, and make of no -effect. In this business four score of the six hundred -are our true helpers.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Now the pen, and the ink, and the hand weary -together, as thy eyes will weary in this reading. -Be it known to my house that I return soon, but -do not speak of the hour. Letters without name -have come to me touching my honour. The -honour of my house is thine. If they be, as I believe, -the work of a dismissed groom, Futteh Lal, -that ran at the tail of my wine-coloured Katthiawar -stallion, his village is beyond Manglôt; look -to it that his tongue no longer lengthens itself on -the names of those who are mine. If it be otherwise, -put a guard upon my house till I come, and -especially see that no sellers of jewelry, astrologers, -or midwives have entrance to the women’s -rooms. We rise by our slaves, and by our slaves -we fall, as it was said. To all who are of my remembrance -I bring gifts according to their worth. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_301'>301</span>I have written twice of the gift that I would cause -to be given to Bahadur Shah.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The blessing of God and his Prophet on thee -and thine till the end which is appointed. Give -me felicity by informing me of the state of thy -health. My head is at the Rao Sahib’s feet; my -sword is at his left side, a little above my heart. -Follows my seal.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_302'>302</span> - <h2 class='c004'>ON THE CITY WALL</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>Then she let them down by a cord through the window; -for her house was upon the town-wall, and she dwelt upon the -wall.—<cite>Joshua</cite> ii. 15.</p> - -<p class='c005'>Lalun is a member of the most ancient profession -in the world. Lilith was her very-great-grand-mamma, -and that was before the days of Eve, as -every one knows. In the West, people say rude -things about Lalun’s profession, and write lectures -about it, and distribute the lectures to young persons -in order that Morality may be preserved. In -the East, where the profession is hereditary, descending -from mother to daughter, nobody writes -lectures or takes any notice; and that is a distinct -proof of the inability of the East to manage its -own affairs.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Lalun’s real husband, for even ladies of Lalun’s -profession in the East must have husbands, was a -big jujube-tree. Her Mamma, who had married -a fig-tree, spent ten thousand rupees on Lalun’s -wedding, which was blessed by forty-seven clergymen -of Mamma’s church, and distributed five thousand -rupees in charity to the poor. And that was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_303'>303</span>the custom of the land. The advantages of having -a jujube-tree for a husband are obvious. You cannot -hurt his feelings, and he looks imposing.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Lalun’s husband stood on the plain outside the -City walls, and Lalun’s house was upon the east -wall, facing the river. If you fell from the broad -window-seat you dropped thirty feet sheer into the -City Ditch. But if you stayed where you should -and looked forth, you saw all the cattle of the City -being driven down to water, the students of the -Government College playing cricket, the high -grass and trees that fringed the river-bank, the -great sand-bars that ribbed the river, the red tombs -of dead Emperors beyond the river, and very far -away through the blue heat-haze, a glint of the -snows of the Himalayas.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Wali Dad used to lie in the window-seat for -hours at a time, watching this view. He was a -young Muhammadan who was suffering acutely -from education of the English variety, and knew -it. His father had sent him to a Mission-school -to get wisdom, and Wali Dad had absorbed more -than ever his father or the Missionaries intended -he should. When his father died, Wali Dad was -independent and spent two years experimenting -with the creeds of the Earth and reading books -that are of no use to anybody.</p> - -<p class='c001'>After he had made an unsuccessful attempt to -enter the Roman Catholic Church and the Presbyterian -<span class='pageno' id='Page_304'>304</span>fold at the same time (the Missionaries -found him out and called him names, but they -did not understand his trouble), he discovered -Lalun on the City wall and became the most constant -of her few admirers. He possessed a head -that English artists at home would rave over and -paint amid impossible surroundings—a face that -female novelists would use with delight through -nine hundred pages. In reality he was only a -clean-bred young Muhammadan, with penciled -eyebrows, small-cut nostrils, little feet and hands, -and a very tired look in his eyes. By virtue of -his twenty-two years he had grown a neat black -beard which he stroked with pride and kept delicately -scented. His life seemed to be divided -between borrowing books from me and making -love to Lalun in the window-seat. He composed -songs about her, and some of the songs are sung -to this day in the City from the Street of the -Mutton-Butchers to the Copper-Smiths’ ward.</p> - -<p class='c001'>One song, the prettiest of all, says that the -beauty of Lalun was so great that it troubled the -hearts of the British Government and caused them -to lose their peace of mind. That is the way the -song is sung in the streets; but, if you examine it -carefully and know the key to the explanation, -you will find that there are three puns in it—on -“beauty,” “heart,” and “peace of mind,”—so that -it runs: “By the subtlety of Lalun the administration -<span class='pageno' id='Page_305'>305</span>of the Government was troubled and it lost -such and such a man.” When Wali Dad sings -that song his eyes glow like hot coals, and Lalun -leans back among the cushions and throws bunches -of jasmine-buds at Wali Dad.</p> - -<p class='c001'>But first it is necessary to explain something -about the Supreme Government which is above -all and below all and behind all. Gentlemen -come from England, spend a few weeks in India, -walk round this great Sphinx of the Plains, and -write books upon its ways and its works, denouncing -or praising it as their own ignorance prompts. -Consequently all the world knows how the Supreme -Government conducts itself. But no one, -not even the Supreme Government, knows everything -about the administration of the Empire. -Year by year England sends out fresh drafts for -the first fighting-line, which is officially called the -Indian Civil Service. These die, or kill themselves -by overwork, or are worried to death or -broken in health and hope in order that the land -may be protected from death and sickness, famine -and war, and may eventually become capable of -standing alone. It will never stand alone, but the -idea is a pretty one, and men are willing to die for -it, and yearly the work of pushing and coaxing -and scolding and petting the country into good -living goes forward. If an advance be made all -credit is given to the native, while the Englishmen -<span class='pageno' id='Page_306'>306</span>stand back and wipe their foreheads. If a failure -occurs the Englishmen step forward and take the -blame. Overmuch tenderness of this kind has bred -a strong belief among many natives that the native -is capable of administering the country, and many -devout Englishmen believe this also, because the -theory is stated in beautiful English with all the -latest political colour.</p> - -<p class='c001'>There be other men who, though uneducated, -see visions and dream dreams, and they, too, hope -to administer the country in their own way—that -is to say, with a garnish of Red Sauce. Such men -must exist among two hundred million people, -and, if they are not attended to, may cause trouble -and even break the great idol called “Pax Britannic,” -which, as the newspapers say, lives between -Peshawur and Cape Comorin. Were the Day -of Doom to dawn to-morrow, you would find the -Supreme Government “taking measures to allay -popular excitement” and putting guards upon the -graveyards that the Dead might troop forth orderly. -The youngest Civilian would arrest Gabriel on his -own responsibility if the Archangel could not produce -a Deputy Commissioner’s permission to -“make music or other noises” as the license says.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Whence it is easy to see that mere men of the -flesh who would create a tumult must fare badly -at the hands of the Supreme Government. And -they do. There is no outward sign of excitement; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_307'>307</span>there is no confusion; there is no knowledge. -When due and sufficient reasons have been given, -weighed and approved, the machinery moves forward, -and the dreamer of dreams and the seer of -visions is gone from his friends and following. He -enjoys the hospitality of Government; there is no -restriction upon his movements within certain limits; -but he must not confer any more with his brother -dreamers. Once in every six months the Supreme -Government assures itself that he is well -and takes formal acknowledgment of his existence. -No one protests against his detention, because -the few people who know about it are in -deadly fear of seeming to know him; and never a -single newspaper “takes up his case” or organises -demonstrations on his behalf, because the newspapers -of India have got behind that lying proverb -which says the Pen is mightier than the Sword, -and can walk delicately.</p> - -<p class='c001'>So now you know as much as you ought about -Wali Dad, the educational mixture, and the Supreme -Government.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Lalun has not yet been described. She would -need, so Wali Dad says, a thousand pens of gold -and ink scented with musk. She has been variously -compared to the Moon, the Dil Sagar Lake, -a spotted quail, a gazelle, the Sun on the Desert -of Kutch, the Dawn, the Stars, and the young -bamboo. These comparisons imply that she is -<span class='pageno' id='Page_308'>308</span>beautiful exceedingly according to the native standards, -which are practically the same as those of -the West. Her eyes are black and her hair is -black, and her eyebrows are black as leeches; her -mouth is tiny and says witty things; her hands are -tiny and have saved much money; her feet are -tiny and have trodden on the naked hearts of many -men. But, as Wali Dad sings: “Lalun <em>is</em> Lalun, -and when you have said that, you have only come -to the Beginnings of Knowledge.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The little house on the City wall was just big -enough to hold Lalun, and her maid, and a pussy-cat -with a silver collar. A big pink and blue -cut-glass chandelier hung from the ceiling of the -reception room. A petty Nawab had given Lalun -the horror, and she kept it for politeness’ sake. -The floor of the room was of polished chunam, -white as curds. A latticed window of carved -wood was set in one wall; there was a profusion -of squabby pluffy cushions and fat carpets everywhere, -and Lalun’s silver <em>huqa</em>, studded with turquoises, -had a special little carpet all to its shining -self. Wali Dad was nearly as permanent a fixture -as the chandelier. As I have said, he lay in the -window-seat and meditated on Life and Death -and Lalun—specially Lalun. The feet of the -young men of the City tended to her doorways -and then—retired, for Lalun was a particular -maiden, slow of speech, reserved of mind, and not -<span class='pageno' id='Page_309'>309</span>in the least inclined to orgies which were nearly -certain to end in strife. “If I am of no value, I -am unworthy of this honour,” said Lalun. “If -I am of value, they are unworthy of Me.” And -that was a crooked sentence.</p> - -<p class='c001'>In the long hot nights of latter April and May -all the City seemed to assemble in Lalun’s little -white room to smoke and to talk. Shiahs of the -grimmest and most uncompromising persuasion; -Sufis who had lost all belief in the Prophet and -retained but little in God; wandering Hindu -priests passing southward on their way to the -Central India fairs and other affairs; Pundits in -black gowns, with spectacles on their noses and -undigested wisdom in their insides; bearded headmen -of the wards; Sikhs with all the details of -the latest ecclesiastical scandal in the Golden -Temple; red-eyed priests from beyond the Border, -looking like trapped wolves and talking like ravens; -M. A.’s of the University, very superior and -very voluble—all these people and more also -you might find in the white room. Wali Dad -lay in the window-seat and listened to the talk.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It is Lalun’s <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>salon</em></span>,” said Wali Dad to me, -“and it is electic—is not that the word? Outside -of a Freemason’s Lodge I have never seen -such gatherings. <em>There</em> I dined once with a Jew—a -Yahoudi!” He spat into the City Ditch -with apologies for allowing national feelings to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_310'>310</span>overcome him. “Though I have lost every belief -in the world,” said he, “and try to be proud -of my losing, I cannot help hating a Jew. Lalun -admits no Jews here.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But what in the world do all these men do?” -I asked.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“The curse of our country,” said Wali Dad. -“They talk. It is like the Athenians—always -hearing and telling some new thing. Ask the -Pearl and she will show you how much she -knows of the news of the City and the Province. -Lalun knows everything.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Lalun,” I said at random—she was talking -to a gentleman of the Kurd persuasion who had -come in from God-knows-where—“when does -the 175th Regiment go to Agra?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It does not go at all,” said Lalun, without -turning her head. “They have ordered the 118th -to go in its stead. That Regiment goes to Lucknow -in three months, unless they give a fresh -order.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“That is so,” said Wali Dad without a shade -of doubt. “Can you, with your telegrams and -your newspapers, do better? Always hearing and -telling some new thing,” he went on. “My friend, -has your God ever smitten a European nation -for gossiping in the bazars? India has gossiped -for centuries—always standing in the bazars until -the soldiers go by. Therefore—you are here today -<span class='pageno' id='Page_311'>311</span>instead of starving in your own country, and -I am not a Muhammadan—I am a Product—a -Demnition Product. That also I owe to you and -yours: that I cannot make an end to my sentence -without quoting from your authors.” He pulled -at the <em>huqa</em> and mourned, half feelingly, half in -earnest, for the shattered hopes of his youth. Wali -Dad was always mourning over something or other—the -country of which he despaired, or the creed -in which he had lost faith, or the life of the English -which he could by no means understand.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Lalun never mourned. She played little songs -on the <em>sitar</em>, and to hear her sing, “O Peacock, cry -again,” was always a fresh pleasure. She knew all -the songs that have ever been sung, from the war-songs -of the South that make the old men angry -with the young men and the young men angry -with the State, to the love-songs of the North where -the swords whinny-whicker like angry kites in the -pauses between the kisses, and the Passes fill with -armed men, and the Lover is torn from his Beloved -and cries, <em>Ai, Ai, Ai!</em> evermore. She knew how -to make up tobacco for the <em>huqa</em> so that it smelt -like the Gates of Paradise and wafted you gently -through them. She could embroider strange things -in gold and silver, and dance softly with the moonlight -when it came in at the window. Also she -knew the hearts of men, and the heart of the City, -and whose wives were faithful and whose untrue, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_312'>312</span>and more of the secrets of the Government Offices -than are good to be set down in this place. Nasiban, -her maid, said that her jewelry was worth ten -thousand pounds, and that, some night, a thief -would enter and murder her for its possession; -but Lalun said that all the City would tear that -thief limb from limb, and that he, whoever he -was, knew it.</p> - -<p class='c001'>So she took her <em>sitar</em> and sat in the window-seat -and sang a song of old days that had been -sung by a girl of her profession in an armed camp -on the eve of a great battle—the day before the -Fords of the Jumna ran red and Sivaji fled fifty -miles to Delhi with a Toorkh stallion at his horse’s -tail and another Lalun on his saddle-bow. It was -what men call a Mahratta <em>laonee</em>, and it said:—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c017'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Their warrior forces Chimnajee</div> - <div class='line in2'>Before the Peishwa led,</div> - <div class='line'>The Children of the Sun and Fire</div> - <div class='line in2'>Behind him turned and fled.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c019'>And the chorus said:—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c017'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>With them there fought who rides so free</div> - <div class='line in2'>With sword and turban red,</div> - <div class='line'>The warrior-youth who earns his fee</div> - <div class='line in2'>At peril of his head.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c019'>“At peril of his head,” said Wali Dad in English -to me. “Thanks to your Government, all -<span class='pageno' id='Page_313'>313</span>our heads are protected, and with the educational -facilities at my command”—his eyes twinkled -wickedly—“I might be a distinguished member -of the local administration. Perhaps, in time, I -might even be a member of a Legislative Council.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Don’t speak English,” said Lalun, bending -over her <em>sitar</em> afresh. The chorus went out from -the City wall to the blackened wall of Fort Amara -which dominates the City. No man knows the -precise extent of Fort Amara. Three kings built -it hundreds of years ago, and they say that there -are miles of underground rooms beneath its walls. -It is peopled with many ghosts, a detachment of -Garrison Artillery and a Company of Infantry. In -its prime it held ten thousand men and filled its -ditches with corpses.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“At peril of his head,” sang Lalun again and -again.</p> - -<p class='c001'>A head moved on one of the Ramparts—the -gray head of an old man—and a voice, rough as -shark-skin on a sword-hilt, sent back the last line -of the chorus and broke into a song that I could -not understand, though Lalun and Wali Dad listened -intently.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“What is it?” I asked. “Who is it?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“A consistent man,” said Wali Dad. “He -fought you in ’46, when he was a warrior-youth; -refought you in ’57, and he tried to fight you in -’71, but you had learned the trick of blowing men -<span class='pageno' id='Page_314'>314</span>from guns too well. Now he is old; but he would -still fight if he could.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Is he a Wahabi, then? Why should he answer -to a Mahratta <em>laonee</em> if he be Wahabi—or -Sikh?” said I.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I do not know,” said Wali Dad. “He has -lost, perhaps, his religion. Perhaps he wishes to -be a King. Perhaps he is a King. I do not -know his name.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“That is a lie, Wali Dad. If you know his -career you must know his name.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“That is quite true. I belong to a nation of -liars. I would rather not tell you his name. -Think for yourself.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Lalun finished her song, pointed to the Fort, -and said simply: “Khem Singh.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Hm,” said Wali Dad. “If the Pearl chooses -to tell you the Pearl is a fool.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>I translated to Lalun, who laughed. “I choose -to tell what I choose to tell. They kept Khem -Singh in Burma,” said she. “They kept him -there for many years until his mind was changed -in him. So great was the kindness of the Government. -Finding this, they sent him back to his -own country that he might look upon it before he -died. He is an old man, but when he looks upon -this his country his memory will come. Moreover, -there be many who remember him.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“He is an Interesting Survival,” said Wali Dad, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_315'>315</span>pulling at the <em>huqa</em>. “He returns to a country -now full of educational and political reform, but, -as the Pearl says, there are many who remember -him. He was once a great man. There will never -be any more great men in India. They will all, -when they are boys, go whoring after strange gods, -and they will become citizens—‘fellow-citizens’—‘illustrious -fellow-citizens.’ What is it that the -native papers call them?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Wali Dad seemed to be in a very bad temper. -Lalun looked out of the window and smiled into -the dust-haze. I went away thinking about Khem -Singh, who had once made history with a thousand -followers, and would have been a princeling -but for the power of the Supreme Government -aforesaid.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The Senior Captain Commanding Fort Amara -was away on leave, but the Subaltern, his Deputy, -had drifted down to the Club, where I found him -and enquired of him whether it was really true that -a political prisoner had been added to the attractions -of the Fort. The Subaltern explained at -great length, for this was the first time that he had -held Command of the Fort, and his glory lay heavy -upon him.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Yes,” said he, “a man was sent in to me about -a week ago from down the line—a thorough -gentleman, whoever he is. Of course I did all I -could for him. He had his two servants and some -<span class='pageno' id='Page_316'>316</span>silver cooking-pots, and he looked for all the world -like a native officer. I called him Subadar Sahib; -just as well to be on the safe side, y’know. -‘Look here, Subadar Sahib,’ I said, ‘you’re handed -over to my authority, and I’m supposed to guard -you. Now I don’t want to make your life hard, -but you must make things easy for me. All the -Fort is at your disposal, from the flag-staff to the -dry ditch, and I shall be happy to entertain you -in any way I can, but you mustn’t take advantage -of it. Give me your word that you won’t try to -escape, Subadar Sahib, and I’ll give you my word -that you shall have no heavy guard put over you.’ -I thought the best way of getting at him was by -going at him straight, y’know, and it was, by -Jove! The old man gave me his word, and -moved about the Fort as contented as a sick crow. -He’s a rummy chap—always asking to be told -where he is and what the buildings about him are. -I had to sign a slip of blue paper when he turned -up, acknowledging receipt of his body and all -that, and I’m responsible, y’know, that he doesn’t -get away. Queer thing, though, looking after a -Johnnie old enough to be your grandfather, isn’t -it? Come to the Fort one of these days and see -him?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>For reasons which will appear, I never went to -the Fort while Khem Singh was then within its -walls. I knew him only as a gray head seen from -<span class='pageno' id='Page_317'>317</span>Lalun’s window—a gray head and a harsh voice. -But natives told me that, day by day, as he looked -upon the fair lands round Amara, his memory -came back to him and, with it, the old hatred -against the Government that had been nearly -effaced in far-off Burma. So he raged up and -down the West face of the Fort from morning till -noon and from evening till the night, devising vain -things in his heart, and croaking war-songs when -Lalun sang on the City wall. As he grew more -acquainted with the Subaltern he unburdened his -old heart of some of the passions that had withered -it. “Sahib,” he used to say, tapping his stick -against the parapet, “when I was a young man I -was one of twenty thousand horsemen who came -out of the City and rode round the plain here. -Sahib, I was the leader of a hundred, then of a -thousand, then of five thousand, and now!”—he -pointed to his two servants. “But from the beginning -to to-day I would cut the throats of all the -Sahibs in the land if I could. Hold me fast, Sahib, -lest I get away and return to those who would -follow me. I forgot them when I was in Burma, -but now that I am in my own country again, I -remember everything.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Do you remember that you have given me -your Honour not to make your tendance a hard -matter?” said the Subaltern.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Yes, to you, only to you, Sahib,” said Khem -<span class='pageno' id='Page_318'>318</span>Singh. “To you because you are of a pleasant -countenance. If my turn comes again, Sahib, I -will not hang you nor cut your throat.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Thank you,” said the Subaltern gravely, as he -looked along the line of guns that could pound -the City to powder in half an hour. “Let us go -into our own quarters, Khem Singh. Come and -talk with me after dinner.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Khem Singh would sit on his own cushion at -the Subaltern’s feet, drinking heavy, scented anise-seed -brandy in great gulps, and telling strange -stories of Fort Amara, which had been a palace in -the old days, of Begums and Ranees tortured to -death—aye, in the very vaulted chamber that -now served as a Mess-room; would tell stories of -Sobraon that made the Subaltern’s cheeks flush -and tingle with pride of race, and of the Kuka -rising from which so much was expected and the -foreknowledge of which was shared by a hundred -thousand souls. But he never told tales of ’57 -because, as he said, he was the Subaltern’s guest, -and ’57 is a year that no man, Black or White, -cares to speak of. Once only, when the anise-seed -brandy had slightly affected his head, he said: -“Sahib, speaking now of a matter which lay between -Sobraon and the affair of the Kukas, it was -ever a wonder to us that you stayed your hand at -all, and that, having stayed it, you did not make -the land one prison. Now I hear from without -<span class='pageno' id='Page_319'>319</span>that you do great honour to all men of our country -and by your own hands are destroying the -Terror of your Name which is your strong rock -and defence. This is a foolish thing. Will oil -and water mix? Now in ’57——”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I was not born then, Subadar Sahib,” said the -Subaltern, and Khem Singh reeled to his quarters.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The Subaltern would tell me of these conversations -at the Club, and my desire to see Khem -Singh increased. But Wali Dad, sitting in the -window-seat of the house on the City wall, said -that it would be a cruel thing to do, and Lalun -pretended that I preferred the society of a grizzled -old Sikh to hers.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Here is tobacco, here is talk, here are many -friends and all the news of the City, and, above all, -here is myself. I will tell you stories and sing -you songs, and Wali Dad will talk his English -nonsense in your ears. Is that worse than watching -the caged animal yonder? Go to-morrow, -then, if you must, but to-day such and such an -one will be here, and he will speak of wonderful -things.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>It happened that To-morrow never came, and -the warm heat of the latter Rains gave place to -the chill of early October almost before I was -aware of the flight of the year. The Captain commanding -the Fort returned from leave and took -over charge of Khem Singh according to the laws -<span class='pageno' id='Page_320'>320</span>of seniority. The Captain was not a nice man. -He called all natives “niggers,” which, besides -being extreme bad form, shows gross ignorance.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“What’s the use of telling off two Tommies to -watch that old nigger?” said he.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I fancy it soothes his vanity,” said the Subaltern. -“The men are ordered to keep well out of -his way, but he takes them as a tribute to his importance, -poor old wretch.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I won’t have Line men taken off regular guards -in this way. Put on a couple of Native Infantry.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Sikhs?” said the Subaltern, lifting his eyebrows.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Sikhs, Pathans, Dogras—they’re all alike, -these black vermin,” and the Captain talked to -Khem Singh in a manner which hurt that old gentleman’s -feelings. Fifteen years before, when he -had been caught for the second time, every one -looked upon him as a sort of tiger. He liked being -regarded in this light. But he forgot that the -world goes forward in fifteen years, and many Subalterns -are promoted to Captaincies.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“The Captain-pig is in charge of the Fort?” -said Khem Singh to his native guard every morning. -And the native guard said: “Yes, Subadar -Sahib,” in deference to his age and his air of distinction; -but they did not know who he was.</p> - -<p class='c001'>In those days the gathering in Lalun’s little white -room was always large and talked more than before.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_321'>321</span>“The Greeks,” said Wali Dad, who had been -borrowing my books, “the inhabitants of the city -of Athens, where they were always hearing and -telling some new thing, rigorously secluded their -women—who were fools. Hence the glorious -institution of the heterodox women—is it not?—who -were amusing and <em>not</em> fools. All the Greek -philosophers delighted in their company. Tell -me, my friend, how it goes now in Greece and -the other places upon the Continent of Europe. -Are your women-folk also fools?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Wali Dad,” I said, “you never speak to us -about your women-folk, and we never speak about -ours to you. That is the bar between us.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Yes,” said Wali Dad, “it is curious to think -that our common meeting-place should be here, -in the house of a common—how do you call -<em>her</em>?” He pointed with the pipe-mouth to -Lalun.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Lalun is nothing but Lalun,” I said, and that -was perfectly true. “But if you took your place -in the world, Wali Dad, and gave up dreaming -dreams——”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I might wear an English coat and trouser. -I might be a leading Muhammadan pleader. -I might be received even at the Commissioner’s -tennis-parties, where the English stand on one side -and the natives on the other, in order to promote -social intercourse throughout the Empire. Heart’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_322'>322</span>Heart,” said he to Lalun quickly, “the Sahib says -that I ought to quit you.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“The Sahib is always talking stupid talk,” returned -Lalun with a laugh. “In this house I -am a Queen and thou art a King. The Sahib”—she -put her arms above her head and thought -for a moment—“the Sahib shall be our Vizier—thine -and mine, Wali Dad—because he has said -that thou shouldst leave me.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Wali Dad laughed immoderately, and I laughed -too. “Be it so,” said he. “My friend, are you -willing to take this lucrative Government appointment? -Lalun, what shall his pay be?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>But Lalun began to sing, and for the rest of -the time there was no hope of getting a sensible -answer from her or Wali Dad. When the one -stopped, the other began to quote Persian poetry -with a triple pun in every other line. Some of -it was not strictly proper, but it was all very funny, -and it only came to an end when a fat person in -black, with gold <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>pince-nez</em></span>, sent up his name to -Lalun, and Wali Dad dragged me into the twinkling -night to walk in a big rose-garden and talk -heresies about Religion and Governments and a -man’s career in life.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The Mohurrum, the great mourning-festival of -the Muhammadans, was close at hand, and the -things that Wali Dad said about religious fanaticism -would have secured his expulsion from the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_323'>323</span>loosest-thinking Muslim sect. There were the -rose-bushes round us, the stars above us, and -from every quarter of the City came the boom of -the big Mohurrum drums. You must know that -the City is divided in fairly equal proportions between -the Hindus and the Musalmans, and where -both creeds belong to the fighting races, a big religious -festival gives ample chance for trouble. -When they can—that is to say when the authorities -are weak enough to allow it—the Hindus do -their best to arrange some minor feast-day of their -own in time to clash with the period of general -mourning for the martyrs Hasan and Hussain, the -heroes of the Mohurrum. Gilt and painted paper -presentations of their tombs are borne with shouting -and wailing, music, torches, and yells, through -the principal thoroughfares of the City, which -fakements are called <em>tazias</em>. Their passage is rigorously -laid down beforehand by the Police, and -detachments of Police accompany each <em>tazia</em>, lest -the Hindus should throw bricks at it and the -peace of the Queen and the heads of her loyal -subjects should thereby be broken. Mohurrum -time in a “fighting” town means anxiety to all -the officials, because, if a riot breaks out, the officials -and not the rioters are held responsible. The -former must foresee everything, and while not -making their precautions ridiculously elaborate, -must see that they are at least adequate.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_324'>324</span>“Listen to the drums!” said Wali Dad. -“That is the heart of the people—empty and -making much noise. How, think you, will the -Mohurrum go this year. <em>I</em> think that there will -be trouble.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>He turned down a side-street and left me alone -with the stars and a sleepy Police patrol. Then I -went to bed and dreamed that Wali Dad had -sacked the City and I was made Vizier, with -Lalun’s silver <em>huqa</em> for mark of office.</p> - -<p class='c001'>All day the Mohurrum drums beat in the City, -and all day deputations of tearful Hindu gentlemen -besieged the Deputy Commissioner with assurances -that they would be murdered ere next -dawning by the Muhammadans. “Which,” said -the Deputy Commissioner in confidence to the -Head of Police, “is a pretty fair indication that -the Hindus are going to make ’emselves unpleasant. -I think we can arrange a little surprise for -them. I have given the heads of both Creeds fair -warning. If they choose to disregard it, so much -the worse for them.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>There was a large gathering in Lalun’s house -that night, but of men that I had never seen before, -if I except the fat gentleman in black with -the gold <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>pince-nez</em></span>. Wali Dad lay in the window-seat, -more bitterly scornful of his Faith and its -manifestations than I had ever known him. -Lalun’s maid was very busy cutting up and mixing -<span class='pageno' id='Page_325'>325</span>tobacco for the guests. We could hear the -thunder of the drums as the processions accompanying -each <em>tazia</em> marched to the central gathering-place -in the plain outside the City, preparatory -to their triumphant re-entry and circuit within the -walls. All the streets seemed ablaze with torches, -and only Fort Amara was black and silent.</p> - -<p class='c001'>When the noise of the drums ceased, no one in -the white room spoke for a time. “The first <em>tazia</em> -has moved off,” said Wali Dad, looking to the -plain.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“That is very early,” said the man with the -<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><em>pince-nez</em></span>.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It is only half-past eight.” The company rose -and departed.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Some of them were men from Ladakh,” said -Lalun, when the last had gone. “They brought -me brick-tea such as the Russians sell, and a tea-urn -from Peshawur. Show me, now, how the -English <em>Memsahibs</em> make tea.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The brick-tea was abominable. When it was -finished Wali Dad suggested going into the streets. -“I am nearly sure that there will be trouble to-night,” -he said. “All the City thinks so, and -<span lang="la" xml:lang="la"><em>Vox Populi</em></span> is <span lang="la" xml:lang="la"><em>Vox Dei</em></span>, as the Babus say. Now I -tell you that at the corner of the Padshahi Gate -you will find my horse all this night if you want -to go about and to see things. It is a most disgraceful -exhibition. Where is the pleasure of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_326'>326</span>saying ‘<em>Ya Hasan, Ya Hussain</em>,’ twenty thousand -times in a night?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>All the processions—there were two and twenty -of them—were now well within the City walls. -The drums were beating afresh, the crowd were -howling “<em>Ya Hasan! Ya Hussain!</em>” and beating -their breasts, the brass bands were playing their -loudest, and at every corner where space allowed -Muhammadan preachers were telling the lamentable -story of the death of the Martyrs. It was -impossible to move except with the crowd, for -the streets were not more than twenty feet wide. -In the Hindu quarters the shutters of all the shops -were up and cross-barred. As the first <em>tazia</em>, a -gorgeous erection ten feet high, was borne aloft -on the shoulders of a score of stout men into the -semi-darkness of the Gully of the Horsemen, a -brickbat crashed through its talc and tinsel sides.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Into thy hands, O Lord!” murmured Wali -Dad profanely, as a yell went up from behind, and -a native officer of Police jammed his horse through -the crowd. Another brickbat followed, and the -<em>tazia</em> staggered and swayed where it had stopped.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Go on! In the name of the Sirkar, go forward!” -shouted the Policeman; but there was an -ugly cracking and splintering of shutters, and the -crowd halted, with oaths and growlings, before the -house whence the brickbat had been thrown.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Then, without any warning, broke the storm—not -<span class='pageno' id='Page_327'>327</span>only in the Gully of the Horsemen, but in -half a dozen other places. The <em>tazias</em> rocked like -ships at sea, the long pole-torches dipped and rose -round them, while the men shouted: “The Hindus -are dishonouring the <em>tazias</em>! Strike! Strike! -Into their temples for the Faith!” The six or -eight Policemen with each <em>tazia</em> drew their batons -and struck as long as they could, in the hope of -forcing the mob forward, but they were overpowered, -and as contingents of Hindus poured into the -streets the fight became general. Half a mile away, -where the <em>tazias</em> were yet untouched, the drums -and the shrieks of “<em>Ya Hasan! Ya Hussain!</em>” continued, -but not for long. The priests at the corners -of the streets knocked the legs from the bedsteads -that supported their pulpits and smote for the -Faith, while stones fell from the silent houses upon -friend and foe, and the packed streets bellowed: -“<em>Din! Din! Din!</em>” A <em>tazia</em> caught fire, and was -dropped for a flaming barrier between Hindu and -Musalman at the corner of the Gully. Then the -crowd surged forward, and Wali Dad drew me -close to the stone pillar of a well.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It was intended from the beginning!” he -shouted in my ear, with more heat than blank unbelief -should be guilty of. “The bricks were carried -up to the houses beforehand. These swine -of Hindus! We shall be gutting kine in their -temples to-night!”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_328'>328</span><em>Tazia</em> after <em>tazia</em>, some burning, others torn to -pieces, hurried past us, and the mob with them, -howling, shrieking, and striking at the house doors -in their flight. At last we saw the reason of the -rush. Hugonin, the Assistant District Superintendent -of Police, a boy of twenty, had got together -thirty constables and was forcing the crowd -through the streets. His old gray Police-horse -showed no sign of uneasiness as it was spurred -breast-on into the crowd, and the long dog-whip -with which he had armed himself was never still.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“They know we haven’t enough Police to hold -’em,” he cried as he passed me, mopping a cut on -his face. “They <em>know</em> we haven’t! Aren’t any -of the men from the Club coming down to help? -Get on, you sons of burnt fathers!” The dog-whip -cracked across the writhing backs, and the -constables smote afresh with baton and gun-butt. -With these passed the lights and the shouting, -and Wali Dad began to swear under his breath. -From Fort Amara shot up a single rocket; then -two side by side. It was the signal for troops.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Petitt, the Deputy Commissioner, covered with -dust and sweat, but calm and gently smiling, cantered -up the clean-swept street in rear of the main -body of the rioters. “No one killed yet,” he -shouted. “I’ll keep ’em on the run till dawn! -Don’t let ’em halt, Hugonin! Trot ’em about -till the troops come.”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_329'>329</span>The science of the defence lay solely in keeping -the mob on the move. If they had breathing-space -they would halt and fire a house, and then -the work of restoring order would be more difficult, -to say the least of it. Flames have the same -effect on a crowd as blood has on a wild beast.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Word had reached the Club, and men in evening-dress -were beginning to show themselves and -lend a hand in heading off and breaking up the -shouting masses with stirrup-leathers, whips, or -chance-found staves. They were not very often -attacked, for the rioters had sense enough to know -that the death of a European would not mean one -hanging, but many, and possibly the appearance of -the thrice-dreaded Artillery. The clamour in the -City redoubled. The Hindus had descended into -the streets in real earnest, and ere long the mob -returned. It was a strange sight. There were no -<em>tazias</em>—only their riven platforms—and there -were no Police. Here and there a City dignitary, -Hindu or Muhammadan, was vainly imploring -his co-religionists to keep quiet and behave themselves—advice -for which his white beard was -pulled. Then a native officer of Police, unhorsed -but still using his spurs with effect, would be borne -along, warning all the crowd of the danger of insulting -the Government. Everywhere men struck -aimlessly with sticks, grasping each other by the -throat, howling and foaming with rage, or beat -<span class='pageno' id='Page_330'>330</span>with their bare hands on the doors of the -houses.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It is a lucky thing that they are fighting with -natural weapons,” I said to Wali Dad, “else we -should have half the City killed.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>I turned as I spoke and looked at his face. His -nostrils were distended, his eyes were fixed, and -he was smiting himself softly on the breast. The -crowd poured by with renewed riot—a gang of -Musalmans hard-pressed by some hundred Hindu -fanatics. Wali Dad left my side with an oath, and -shouting: “<em>Ya Hasan! Ya Hussain!</em>” plunged -into the thick of the fight, where I lost sight of -him.</p> - -<p class='c001'>I fled by a side alley to the Padshahi Gate, where -I found Wali Dad’s horse, and thence rode to the -Fort. Once outside the City wall, the tumult -sank to a dull roar, very impressive under the stars -and reflecting great credit on the fifty thousand -angry able-bodied men who were making it. The -troops who, at the Deputy Commissioner’s instance, -had been ordered to rendezvous quietly near the -Fort showed no signs of being impressed. Two -companies of Native Infantry, a squadron of Native -Cavalry, and a company of British Infantry -were kicking their heels in the shadow of the East -face, waiting for orders to march in. I am sorry -to say that they were all pleased, unholily pleased, -at the chance of what they called “a little fun.” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_331'>331</span>The senior officers, to be sure, grumbled at having -been kept out of bed, and the English troops -pretended to be sulky, but there was joy in the -hearts of all the subalterns, and whispers ran up -and down the line: “No ball-cartridge—what a -beastly shame!” “D’you think the beggars will -really stand up to us?” “’Hope I shall meet my -money-lender there. I owe him more than I can -afford.” “Oh, they won’t let us even unsheathe -swords.” “Hurrah! Up goes the fourth rocket. -Fall in, there!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The Garrison Artillery, who to the last cherished -a wild hope that they might be allowed to -bombard the City at a hundred yards’ range, lined -the parapet above the East gateway and cheered -themselves hoarse as the British Infantry doubled -along the road to the Main Gate of the City. The -Cavalry cantered on to the Padshahi Gate, and the -Native Infantry marched slowly to the Gate of -the Butchers. The surprise was intended to be of a -distinctly unpleasant nature, and to come on top -of the defeat of the Police who had been just able -to keep the Muhammadans from firing the houses -of a few leading Hindus. The bulk of the riot -lay in the north and north-west wards. The east -and south-east were by this time dark and silent, -and I rode hastily to Lalun’s house, for I wished to -tell her to send some one in search of Wali Dad. -The house was unlighted, but the door was open, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_332'>332</span>and I climbed upstairs in the darkness. One -small lamp in the white room showed Lalun and -her maid leaning half out of the window, breathing -heavily and evidently pulling at something -that refused to come.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Thou art late—very late,” gasped Lalun without -turning her head. “Help us now, O Fool, if -thou hast not spent thy strength howling among -the <em>tazias</em>. Pull! Nasiban and I can do no more. -O Sahib, is it you? The Hindus have been hunting -an old Muhammadan round the Ditch with -clubs. If they find him again they will kill him. -Help us to pull him up.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>I put my hands to the long red silk waist-cloth -that was hanging out of the window, and we three -pulled and pulled with all the strength at our command. -There was something very heavy at the -end, and it swore in an unknown tongue as it kicked -against the City wall.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Pull, oh, pull!” said Lalun at the last. A -pair of brown hands grasped the window-sill and -a venerable Muhammadan tumbled upon the floor, -very much out of breath. His jaws were tied up, -his turban had fallen over one eye, and he was -dusty and angry.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Lalun hid her face in her hands for an instant -and said something about Wali Dad that I could -not catch.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Then, to my extreme gratification, she threw her -<span class='pageno' id='Page_333'>333</span>arms round my neck and murmured pretty things. -I was in no haste to stop her; and Nasiban, being -a handmaiden of tact, turned to the big jewel-chest -that stands in the corner of the white room and -rummaged among the contents. The Muhammadan -sat on the floor and glared.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“One service more, Sahib, since thou hast come -so opportunely,” said Lalun. “Wilt thou”—it -is very nice to be thou-ed by Lalun—“take this -old man across the City—the troops are everywhere, -and they might hurt him, for he is old—to -the Kumharsen Gate? There I think he may find -a carriage to take him to his house. He is a friend -of mine, and thou art—more than a friend—therefore -I ask this.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Nasiban bent over the old man, tucked something -into his belt, and I raised him up and led -him into the streets. In crossing from the east to -the west of the City there was no chance of avoiding -the troops and the crowd. Long before I -reached the Gully of the Horsemen I heard the -shouts of the British Infantry crying cheeringly: -“Hutt, ye beggars! Hutt, ye devils! Get along! -Go forward, there!” Then followed the ringing -of rifle-butts and shrieks of pain. The troops were -banging the bare toes of the mob with their gun-butts—for -not a bayonet had been fixed. My -companion mumbled and jabbered as we walked -on until we were carried back by the crowd and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_334'>334</span>had to force our way to the troops. I caught him -by the wrist and felt a bangle there—the iron -bangle of the Sikhs—but I had no suspicions, for -Lalun had only ten minutes before put her arms -round me. Thrice we were carried back by the -crowd, and when we made our way past the British -Infantry it was to meet the Sikh Cavalry driving -another mob before them with the butts of -their lances.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“What are these dogs?” said the old man.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Sikhs of the Cavalry, Father,” I said, and we -edged our way up the line of horses two abreast -and found the Deputy Commissioner, his helmet -smashed on his head, surrounded by a knot of men -who had come down from the Club as amateur -constables and had helped the Police mightily.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“We’ll keep ’em on the run till dawn,” said -Petitt. “Who’s your villainous friend?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>I had only time to say: “The Protection of the -Sirkar!” when a fresh crowd flying before the Native -Infantry carried us a hundred yards nearer to -the Kumharsen Gate, and Petitt was swept away -like a shadow.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I do not know—I cannot see—this is all -new to me!” moaned my companion. “How -many troops are there in the City?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Perhaps five hundred,” I said.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“A lakh of men beaten by five hundred—and -Sikhs among them! Surely, surely, I am an old -<span class='pageno' id='Page_335'>335</span>man, but—the Kumharsen Gate is new. Who -pulled down the stone lions? Where is the conduit? -Sahib, I am a very old man, and, alas, I—I -cannot stand.” He dropped in the shadow -of the Kumharsen Gate where there was no disturbance. -A fat gentleman wearing gold <span lang="la" xml:lang="la"><em>pince-nez</em></span> -came out of the darkness.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“You are most kind to bring my old friend,” -he said suavely. “He is a landholder of Akala. -He should not be in a big City when there is religious -excitement. But I have a carriage here. -You are quite truly kind. Will you help me to -put him into the carriage? It is very late.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>We bundled the old man into a hired victoria -that stood close to the gate, and I turned back to -the house on the City wall. The troops were driving -the people to and fro, while the Police shouted, -“To your houses! Get to your houses!” and the -dog-whip of the Assistant District Superintendent -cracked remorselessly. Terror-stricken <em>bunnias</em> -clung to the stirrups of the cavalry, crying that -their houses had been robbed (which was a lie), -and the burly Sikh horsemen patted them on the -shoulder, and bade them return to those houses -lest a worse thing should happen. Parties of five -or six British soldiers, joining arms, swept down -the side-gullies, their rifles on their backs, stamping, -with shouting and song, upon the toes of -Hindu and Musalman. Never was religious enthusiasm -<span class='pageno' id='Page_336'>336</span>more systematically squashed; and never -were poor breakers of the peace more utterly weary -and footsore. They were routed out of holes and -corners, from behind well-pillars and byres, and -bidden to go to their houses. If they had no -houses to go to, so much the worse for their -toes.</p> - -<p class='c001'>On returning to Lalun’s door, I stumbled over -a man at the threshold. He was sobbing hysterically -and his arms flapped like the wings of a -goose. It was Wali Dad, Agnostic and Unbeliever, -shoeless, turbanless, and frothing at the -mouth, the flesh on his chest bruised and bleeding -from the vehemence with which he had smitten -himself. A broken torch-handle lay by his side, -and his quivering lips murmured, “<em>Ya Hasan! Ya -Hussain!</em>” as I stooped over him. I pushed him -a few steps up the staircase, threw a pebble at -Lalun’s City window, and hurried home.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Most of the streets were very still, and the cold -wind that comes before the dawn whistled down -them. In the center of the Square of the Mosque -a man was bending over a corpse. The skull had -been smashed in by gun-butt or bamboo-stave.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It is expedient that one man should die for -the people,” said Petitt grimly, raising the shapeless -head. “These brutes were beginning to show -their teeth too much.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>And from afar we could hear the soldiers singing -<span class='pageno' id='Page_337'>337</span>“Two Lovely Black Eyes,” as they drove the -remnant of the rioters within doors.</p> - -<hr class='c014' /> - -<p class='c001'>Of course you can guess what happened? I -was not so clever. When the news went abroad -that Khem Singh had escaped from the Fort, I -did not, since I was then living this story, not -writing it, connect myself, or Lalun, or the fat -gentleman of the gold <span lang="la" xml:lang="la"><em>pince-nez</em></span>, with his disappearance. -Nor did it strike me that Wali Dad -was the man who should have convoyed him -across the City, or that Lalun’s arms round my -neck were put there to hide the money that Nasiban -gave to Khem Singh, and that Lalun had used -me and my white face as even a better safeguard -than Wali Dad, who proved himself so untrustworthy. -All that I knew at the time was that -when Fort Amara was taken up with the riots -Khem Singh profited by the confusion to get -away, and that his two Sikh guards also escaped.</p> - -<p class='c001'>But later on I received full enlightenment; and -so did Khem Singh. He fled to those who knew -him in the old days, but many of them were dead -and more were changed, and all knew something -of the Wrath of the Government. He went to -the young men, but the glamour of his name had -passed away, and they were entering native regiments -or Government offices, and Khem Singh -could give them neither pension, decorations, nor -<span class='pageno' id='Page_338'>338</span>influence—nothing but a glorious death with -their backs to the mouth of a gun. He wrote -letters and made promises, and the letters fell into -bad hands, and a wholly insignificant subordinate -officer of Police tracked them down and gained -promotion thereby. Moreover, Khem Singh was -old, and anise-seed brandy was scarce, and he had -left his silver cooking-pots in Fort Amara with his -nice warm bedding, and the gentleman with the -gold <span lang="la" xml:lang="la"><em>pince-nez</em></span> was told by those who had employed -him that Khem Singh as a popular leader -was not worth the money paid.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Great is the mercy of these fools of English!” -said Khem Singh when the situation was put -before him. “I will go back to Fort Amara of -my own free will and gain honour. Give me -good clothes to return in.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>So, at his own time, Khem Singh knocked at -the wicket-gate of the Fort and walked to the -Captain and the Subaltern, who were nearly gray-headed -on account of correspondence that daily -arrived from Simla marked “Private.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I have come back, Captain Sahib,” said Khem -Singh. “Put no more guards over me. It is no -good out yonder.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>A week later I saw him for the first time to my -knowledge, and he made as though there were an -understanding between us.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It was well done, Sahib,” said he, “and greatly -<span class='pageno' id='Page_339'>339</span>I admired your astuteness in thus boldly facing the -troops when I, whom they would have doubtless -torn to pieces, was with you. Now there is a -man in Fort Ooltagarh whom a bold man could -with ease help to escape. This is the position of -the Fort as I draw it on the sand——”</p> - -<p class='c001'>But I was thinking how I had become Lalun’s -Vizier after all.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_340'>340</span> - <h2 class='c004'>THE ENLIGHTENMENTS OF <br /> PAGETT, M. P.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>“Because half a dozen grasshoppers under a fern make the -field ring with their importunate chink while thousands of great -cattle, reposed beneath the shadow of the British oak, chew -the cud and are silent, pray do not imagine that those who -make the noise are the only inhabitants of the field—that, of -course, they are many in number—or that, after all, they are -other than the little, shrivelled, meagre, hopping, though loud -and troublesome insects of the hour.”—<cite>Burke</cite>: “Reflections -on the Revolution in France.”</p> - -<p class='c005'>They were sitting in the verandah of “the splendid -palace of an Indian Pro-Consul,” surrounded -by all the glory and mystery of the immemorial -East. In plain English it was a one-storied, ten-roomed, -whitewashed mud-roofed bungalow, set -in a dry garden of dusty tamarisk trees and divided -from the road by a low mud wall. The -green parrots screamed overhead as they flew in -battalions to the river for their morning drink. -Beyond the wall, clouds of fine dust showed where -the cattle and goats of the city were passing afield -to graze. The remorseless white light of the winter -sunshine of Northern India lay upon everything -<span class='pageno' id='Page_341'>341</span>and improved nothing, from the whining -Persian-wheel by the lawn-tennis court to the long -perspective of level road and the blue, domed -tombs of Mahommedan saints just visible above -the trees.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“A Happy New Year,” said Orde to his guest. -“It’s the first you’ve ever spent out of England, -isn’t it?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Yes. ’Happy New Year,” said Pagett, smiling -at the sunshine. “What a divine climate -you have here! Just think of the brown cold fog -hanging over London now!” And he rubbed his -hands.</p> - -<p class='c001'>It was more than twenty years since he had -last seen Orde, his schoolmate, and their paths in -the world had divided early. The one had quitted -college to become a cog-wheel in the machinery -of the great Indian Government; the other, more -blessed with goods, had been whirled into a similar -position in the English scheme. Three successive -elections had not affected Pagett’s position -with a loyal constituency, and he had grown insensibly -to regard himself in some sort as a pillar -of the Empire whose real worth would be known -later on. After a few years of conscientious attendance -at many divisions, after newspaper battles -innumerable, and the publication of interminable -correspondence, and more hasty oratory than -in his calmer moments he cared to think upon, it -<span class='pageno' id='Page_342'>342</span>occurred to him, as it had occurred to many of -his fellows in Parliament, that a tour to India -would enable him to sweep a larger lyre and address -himself to the problems of Imperial administration -with a firmer hand. Accepting, therefore, -a general invitation extended to him by -Orde some years before, Pagett had taken ship -to Karachi, and only over-night had been received -with joy by the Deputy-Commissioner of Amara. -They had sat late, discussing the changes and -chances of twenty years, recalling the names of -the dead, and weighing the futures of the living, -as is the custom of men meeting after intervals of -action.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Next morning they smoked the after-breakfast -pipe in the verandah, still regarding each other -curiously, Pagett in a light gray frock-coat and -garments much too thin for the time of the year, -and a puggried sun-hat carefully and wonderfully -made; Orde in a shooting-coat, riding-breeches, -brown cowhide boots with spurs, and a battered -flax helmet. He had ridden some miles in the -early morning to inspect a doubtful river-dam. -The men’s faces differed as much as their attire. -Orde’s, worn and wrinkled about the eyes and -grizzled at the temples, was the harder and more -square of the two, and it was with something like -envy that the owner looked at the comfortable -outlines of Pagett’s blandly receptive countenance, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_343'>343</span>the clear skin, the untroubled eye, and the -mobile, clean-shaved lips.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“And this is India!” said Pagett for the twentieth -time, staring long and intently at the gray -feathering of the tamarisks.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“One portion of India only. It’s very much -like this for 300 miles in every direction. By -the way, now that you have rested a little—I -wouldn’t ask the old question before—what -d’you think of the country?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“’Tis the most pervasive country that ever yet -was seen. I acquired several pounds of your -country coming up from Karachi. The air is -heavy with it, and for miles and miles along that -distressful eternity of rail there’s no horizon to -show where air and earth separate.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Yes. It isn’t easy to see truly or far in India. -But you had a decent passage out, hadn’t you?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Very good on the whole. Your Anglo-Indian -may be unsympathetic about one’s political views; -but he has reduced ship life to a science.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“The Anglo-Indian is a political orphan, and -if he’s wise he won’t be in a hurry to be adopted -by your party grandmothers. But how were your -companions unsympathetic?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Well, there was a man called Dawlishe, a -judge somewhere in this country, it seems, and -a capital partner at whist, by the way, and when -I wanted to talk to him about the progress of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_344'>344</span>India in a political sense [Orde hid a grin which -might or might not have been sympathetic], the -National Congress movement, and other things in -which, as a Member of Parliament, I’m of course -interested, he shifted the subject, and when I once -cornered him, he looked me calmly in the eye, -and said: ‘That’s all Tommy Rot. Come and -have a game at Bull.’ You may laugh, but that -isn’t the way to treat a great and important question; -and, knowing who I was, well, I thought it -rather rude, don’t you know; and yet Dawlishe is -a thoroughly good fellow.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Yes; he’s a friend of mine, and one of the -straightest men I know. I suppose, like many -Anglo-Indians, he felt it was hopeless to give you -any just idea of any Indian question without the -documents before you, and in this case the documents -you want are the country and the people.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Precisely. That was why I came straight to -you, bringing an open mind to bear on things. -I’m anxious to know what popular feeling in India -is really like, y’know, now that it has wakened -into political life. The National Congress, in -spite of Dawlishe, must have caused great excitement -among the masses?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“On the contrary, nothing could be more tranquil -than the state of popular feeling; and as to -excitement, the people would as soon be excited -over the ‘Rule of Three’ as over the Congress.”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_345'>345</span>“Excuse me, Orde, but do you think you are a -fair judge? Isn’t the official Anglo-Indian naturally -jealous of any external influences that might -move the masses, and so much opposed to liberal -ideas, truly liberal ideas, that he can scarcely be -expected to regard a popular movement with -fairness?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“What did Dawlishe say about Tommy Rot? -Think a moment, old man. You and I were -brought up together; taught by the same tutors, -read the same books, lived the same life, and -thought, as you may remember, in parallel lines. -<em>I</em> come out here, learn new languages, and work -among new races; while you, more fortunate, remain -at home. Why should I change my mind—our -mind—because I change my sky? Why -should I and the few hundred Englishmen in my -service become unreasonable, prejudiced fossils, -while you and your newer friends alone remain -bright and open-minded? You surely don’t fancy -civilians are members of a Primrose League?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Of course not, but the mere position of an English -official gives him a point of view which cannot -but bias his mind on this question.” Pagett -moved his knee up and down a little uneasily as -he spoke.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“That sounds plausible enough, but, like more -plausible notions on Indian matters, I believe it’s a -mistake. You’ll find when you come to consult the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_346'>346</span>unofficial Briton that our fault, as a class—I speak -of the civilian now—is rather to magnify the progress -that has been made towards liberal institutions. -It is of English origin, such as it is, and the -stress of our work since the Mutiny—only thirty -years ago—has been in that direction. No, I think -you will get no fairer or more dispassionate view -of the Congress business than such men as I can -give you. But I may as well say at once that -those who know most of India, from the inside, -are inclined to wonder at the noise our scarcely -begun experiment makes in England.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But surely the gathering together of Congress -delegates is of itself a new thing.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“There’s nothing new under the sun. When -Europe was a jungle half Asia flocked to the -canonical conferences of Buddhism; and for centuries -the people have gathered at Puri, Hurdwar, -Trimbak, and Benares in immense numbers. A -great meeting, what you call a mass meeting, is -really one of the oldest and most popular of Indian -institutions. In the case of the Congress -meetings, the only notable fact is that the priests -of the altar are British, not Buddhist, Jain or Brahmanical, -and that the whole thing is a British contrivance -kept alive by the efforts of Messrs. Hume, -Eardley Norton, and Digby.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“You mean to say, then, it’s not a spontaneous -movement?”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_347'>347</span>“What movement was ever spontaneous in any -true sense of the word? This seems to be more -factitious than usual. You seem to know a great -deal about it; try it by the touchstone of subscriptions, -a coarse but fairly trustworthy criterion, and -there is scarcely the colour of money in it. The -delegates write from England that they are out of -pocket for working expenses, railway fares, and -stationery—the mere pasteboard and scaffolding -of their show. It is, in fact, collapsing from mere -financial inanition.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But you cannot deny that the people of India, -who are, perhaps, too poor to subscribe, are mentally -and morally moved by the agitation,” Pagett -insisted.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“That is precisely what I <em>do</em> deny. The native -side of the movement is the work of a limited -class, a microscopic minority, as Lord Dufferin described -it, when compared with the people proper, -but still a very interesting class, seeing that it is -of our own creation. It is composed almost entirely -of those of the literary or clerkly castes who -have received an English education.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Surely that’s a very important class. Its members -must be the ordained leaders of popular -thought.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Anywhere else they might be leaders, but they -have no social weight in this topsy-turvy land, -and though they have been employed in clerical -<span class='pageno' id='Page_348'>348</span>work for generations, they have no practical knowledge -of affairs. A ship’s clerk is a useful person, -but he is scarcely the captain; and an orderly-room -writer, however smart he may be, is not the -colonel. You see, the writer class in India has -never till now aspired to anything like command. -It wasn’t allowed to. The Indian gentleman, for -thousands of years past, has resembled Victor -Hugo’s noble:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c017'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">“Un vrai sire</span></div> - <div class='line'><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Chatelain</span></div> - <div class='line'><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Laisse ecrire</span></div> - <div class='line'><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Le vilain.</span></div> - <div class='line'><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Sa main digne</span></div> - <div class='line'><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Quand il signe</span></div> - <div class='line'><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Egratigne</span></div> - <div class='line'><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Le velin.”</span></div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'>And the little <span lang="la" xml:lang="la"><em>egratignures</em></span> he most likes to make -have been scored pretty deeply by the sword.“</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But this is childish and mediæval nonsense!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Precisely; and from your, or rather our, point -of view the pen <em>is</em> mightier than the sword. In -this country it’s otherwise. The fault lies in our -Indian balances, not yet adjusted to civilised -weights and measures.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Well, at all events, this literary class represent -the natural aspirations and wishes of the people -at large, though it may not exactly lead them, -and, in spite of all you say, Orde, I defy you to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_349'>349</span>find a really sound English Radical who would -not sympathise with those aspirations.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Pagett spoke with some warmth, and he had -scarcely ceased when a well-appointed dog-cart -turned into the compound gates, and Orde rose, -saying:</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Here is Edwards, the Master of the Lodge I -neglect so diligently, come to talk about accounts, -I suppose.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>As the vehicle drove up under the porch Pagett -also rose, saying with the trained effusion born of -much practice:</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But this is also <em>my</em> friend, my old and valued -friend, Edwards. I’m delighted to see you. I -knew you were in India, but not exactly where.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Then it isn’t accounts, Mr. Edwards,” said -Orde cheerily.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Why, no, sir; I heard Mr. Pagett was coming, -and as our works were closed for the New Year I -thought I would drive over and see him.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“A very happy thought. Mr. Edwards, you -may not know, Orde, was a leading member of -our Radical Club at Switchton when I was beginning -political life, and I owe much to his exertions. -There’s no pleasure like meeting an old friend, -except, perhaps, making a new one. I suppose, -Mr. Edwards, you stick to the good old cause?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Well, you see, sir, things are different out -here. There’s precious little one can find to say -<span class='pageno' id='Page_350'>350</span>against the Government, which was the main of -our talk at home, and them that do say things are -not the sort o’ people a man who respects himself -would like to be mixed up with. There are no -politics, in a manner of speaking, in India. It’s -all work.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Surely you are mistaken, my good friend. -Why, I have come all the way from England just -to see the working of this great National movement.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I don’t know where you’re going to find the -nation as moves, to begin with, and then you’ll be -hard put to it to find what they are moving about. -It’s like this, sir,” said Edwards, who had not -quite relished being called “my good friend.” -“They haven’t got any grievance—nothing to -hit with, don’t you see, sir; and then there’s not -much to hit against, because the Government is -more like a kind of general Providence, directing -an old-established state of things, than that at -home, where there’s something new thrown down -for us to fight about every three months.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“You are probably, in your workshops, full -of English mechanics, out of the way of learning -what the masses think.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I don’t know so much about that. There are -four of us English foremen, and between seven and -eight hundred native fitters, smiths, carpenters, -painters, and such like.”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_351'>351</span>“And they are full of the Congress, of course?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Never hear a word of it from year’s end to -year’s end, and I speak the talk, too. But I -wanted to ask how things are going on at home—old -Tyler and Brown and the rest?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“We will speak of them presently, but your -account of the indifference of your men surprises -me almost as much as your own. I fear you are a -backslider from the good old doctrine, Edwards.” -Pagett spoke as one who mourned the death of -a near relative.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Not a bit, sir, but I should be if I took up -with a parcel of babus, pleaders, and schoolboys, -as never did a day’s work in their lives, and -couldn’t if they tried. And if you was to poll us -English railway-men, mechanics, tradespeople, and -the like of that all up and down the country from -Peshawur to Calcutta, you would find us mostly -in a tale together. And yet you know we’re the -same English you pay some respect to at home at -’lection time, and we have the pull o’ knowing -something about it.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“This is very curious, but you will let me -come and see you, and perhaps you will kindly -show me the railway works, and we will talk -things over at leisure. And about all old friends -and old times,” added Pagett, detecting with -quick insight a look of disappointment in the -mechanic’s face.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_352'>352</span>Nodding briefly to Orde, Edwards mounted his -dog-cart and drove off.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It’s very disappointing,” said the Member to -Orde, who, while his friend discoursed with Edwards, -had been looking over a bundle of sketches -drawn on gray paper in purple ink, brought to -him by a <em>Chuprassee</em>.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Don’t let it trouble you, old chap,” said Orde -sympathetically. “Look here a moment, here are -some sketches by the man who made the carved-wood -screen you admired so much in the dining-room, -and wanted a copy of, and the artist himself -is here too.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“A native?” said Pagett.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Of course,” was the reply, “Bishen Singh is -his name, and he has two brothers to help him. -When there is an important job to do, the three -go into partnership, but they spend most of their -time and all their money in litigation over an inheritance, -and I’m afraid they are getting involved. -Thoroughbred Sikhs of the old rock, obstinate, -touchy, bigoted, and cunning, but good men for -all that. Here is Bishen Singh—shall we ask <em>him</em> -about the Congress?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>But Bishen Singh, who approached with a respectful -salaam, had never heard of it, and he listened -with a puzzled face and obviously feigned -interest to Orde’s account of its aims and objects, -finally shaking his vast white turban with great -<span class='pageno' id='Page_353'>353</span>significance when he learned that it was promoted -by certain pleaders named by Orde, and by educated -natives. He began with laboured respect to explain -how he was a poor man with no concern in -such matters, which were all under the control of -God, but presently broke out of Urdu into familiar -Punjabi, the mere sound of which had a rustic -smack of village smoke-reek and plough-tail, as -he denounced the wearers of white coats, the jugglers -with words who filched his field from him, -the men whose backs were never bowed in honest -work; and poured ironical scorn on the Bengali. -He and one of his brothers had seen Calcutta, and -being at work there, had Bengali carpenters given -to them as assistants.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Those carpenters!” said Bishen Singh. “Black -apes were more efficient workmates, and as for -the Bengali babu—tchick!” The guttural click -needed no interpretation, but Orde translated the -rest, while Pagett gazed with interest at the wood-carver.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“He seems to have a most illiberal prejudice -against the Bengali,” said the M. P.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Yes, it’s very sad that for ages outside Bengal -there should be so bitter a prejudice. Pride of -race, which also means race-hatred, is the plague -and curse of India and it spreads far.” Orde pointed -with his riding-whip to the large map of India on -the verandah wall.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_354'>354</span>“See! I begin with the North,” said he. “There’s -the Afghan, and, as a highlander, he despises all -the dwellers in Hindustan—with the exception -of the Sikh, whom he hates as cordially as the -Sikh hates him. The Hindu loathes Sikh and -Afghan, and the Rajput—that’s a little lower down -across this yellow blot of desert—has a strong objection, -to put it mildly, to the Maratha, who, by -the way, poisonously hates the Afghan. Let’s go -North a minute. The Sindhi hates everybody -I’ve mentioned. Very good, we’ll take less warlike -races. The cultivator of Northern India domineers -over the man in the next province, and the -Behari of the North-West ridicules the Bengali. -They are all at one on that point. I’m giving you -merely the roughest possible outlines of the facts, -of course.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Bishen Singh, his clean-cut nostrils still quivering, -watched the large sweep of the whip as it -travelled from the frontier, through Sindh, the -Punjab and Rajputana, till it rested by the valley -of the Jumna.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Hate—eternal and inextinguishable hate,” -concluded Orde, flicking the lash of the whip -across the large map from East to West as he sat -down. “Remember Canning’s advice to Lord -Granville, ‘Never write or speak of Indian things -without looking at a map.’”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Pagett opened his eyes; Orde resumed. “And -<span class='pageno' id='Page_355'>355</span>the race-hatred is only a part of it. What’s really -the matter with Bishen Singh is class-hatred, which, -unfortunately, is even more intense and more widely -spread. That’s one of the little drawbacks of caste, -which some of your recent English writers find an -impeccable system.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The wood-carver was glad to be recalled to the -business of his craft, and his eyes shone as he received -instructions for a carved wooden doorway -for Pagett, which he promised should be splendidly -executed and despatched to England in six months. -It is an irrelevant detail, but in spite of Orde’s reminders, -fourteen months elapsed before the work -was finished. Business over, Bishen Singh hung -about, reluctant to take his leave, and at last joining -his hands and approaching Orde with bated -breath and whispering humbleness, said he had a -petition to make. Orde’s face suddenly lost all -trace of expression. “Speak on, Bishen Singh,” -said he, and the carver in a whining tone explained -that his case against his brothers was fixed for hearing -before a native judge, and—here he dropped -his voice still lower till he was summarily stopped -by Orde, who sternly pointed to the gate with an -emphatic Begone!</p> - -<p class='c001'>Bishen Singh, showing but little sign of discomposure, -salaamed respectfully to the friends and -departed.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Pagett looked inquiry; Orde, with complete recovery -<span class='pageno' id='Page_356'>356</span>of his usual urbanity, replied: “It’s nothing, -only the old story: he wants his case to be -tried by an English judge—they all do that—but -when he began to hint that the other side were in -improper relations with the native judge I had to -shut him up. Gunga Ram, the man he wanted to -make insinuations about, may not be very bright; -but he’s as honest as daylight on the bench. But -that’s just what one can’t get a native to believe.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Do you really mean to say these people prefer -to have their cases tried by English judges?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Why, certainly.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Pagett drew a long breath. “I didn’t know -that before.” At this point a phaeton entered -the compound, and Orde rose with “Confound -it, there’s old Rasul Ali Khan come to pay one -of his tiresome duty-calls. I’m afraid we shall -never get through our little Congress discussion.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Pagett was an almost silent spectator of the -grave formalities of a visit paid by a punctilious -old Mahommedan gentleman to an Indian official; -and was much impressed by the distinction of -manner and fine appearance of the Mahommedan -landholder. When the exchange of polite banalities -came to a pause, he expressed a wish to -learn the courtly visitor’s opinion of the National -Congress.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Orde reluctantly interpreted, and with a smile -which even Mahommedan politeness could not -<span class='pageno' id='Page_357'>357</span>save from bitter scorn, Rasul Ali Khan intimated -that he knew nothing about it and cared still less. -It was a kind of talk encouraged by the Government -for some mysterious purpose of its own, and -for his own part he wondered and held his peace.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Pagett was far from satisfied with this, and -wished to have the old gentleman’s opinion on -the propriety of managing all Indian affairs on -the basis of an elective system.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Orde did his best to explain, but it was plain -the visitor was bored and bewildered. Frankly, -he didn’t think much of committees; they had a -Municipal Committee at Lahore and had elected -a menial servant, an orderly, as a member. He -had been informed of this on good authority, and -after that committees had ceased to interest him. -But all was according to the rule of Government, -and, please God, it was all for the best.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“What an old fossil it is!” cried Pagett, as -Orde returned from seeing his guest to the door; -“just like some old blue-blooded hidalgo of Spain. -What does he really think of the Congress after -all, and of the elective system?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Hates it all like poison. When you are sure -of a majority, election is a fine system; but you -can scarcely expect the Mahommedans, the most -masterful and powerful minority in the country, -to contemplate their own extinction with joy. -The worst of it is that he and his co-religionists, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_358'>358</span>who are many, and the landed proprietors, also of -Hindu race, are frightened and put out by this -election business and by the importance we have -bestowed on lawyers, pleaders, writers, and the -like, who have, up to now, been in abject submission -to them. They say little, but after all -they are the most important faggots in the great -bundle of communities, and all the glib bunkum -in the world would not pay for their estrangement. -They have controlled the land.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But I am assured that experience of local self-government -in your municipalities has been most -satisfactory, and when once the principle is accepted -in your centres, don’t you know, it is -bound to spread, and these important—ah’m—people -of yours would learn it like the rest. I see -no difficulty at all,” and the smooth lips closed -with the complacent snap habitual to Pagett, -M. P., the “man of cheerful yesterdays and confident -to-morrows.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Orde looked at him with a dreary smile.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“The privilege of election has been most reluctantly -withdrawn from scores of municipalities, -others have had to be summarily suppressed, and, -outside the Presidency towns, the actual work -done has been badly performed. This is of less -moment, perhaps—it only sends up the local -death-rates—than the fact that the public interest -in municipal elections, never very strong, has -<span class='pageno' id='Page_359'>359</span>waned, and is waning, in spite of careful nursing -on the part of Government servants.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Can you explain this lack of interest?” said -Pagett, putting aside the rest of Orde’s remarks.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“You may find a ward of the key in the fact -that only one in every thousand of our population -can spell. Then they are infinitely more interested -in religion and caste questions than in any -sort of politics. When the business of mere existence -is over, their minds are occupied by a series -of interests, pleasures, rituals, superstitions, and -the like, based on centuries of tradition and usage. -You, perhaps, find it hard to conceive of people -absolutely devoid of curiosity, to whom the book, -the daily paper, and the printed speech are unknown, -and you would describe their life as blank. -That’s a profound mistake. You are in another -land, another century, down on the bed-rock of -society, where the family merely, and not the -community, is all-important. The average Oriental -cannot be brought to look beyond his clan. -His life, too, is more complete and self-sufficing -and less sordid and low-thoughted than you might -imagine. It is bovine and slow in some respects, -but it is never empty. You and I are inclined -to put the cart before the horse, and to forget that -it is the man that is elemental, not the book.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c017'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“The corn and the cattle are all my care,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And the rest is the will of God.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_360'>360</span>Why should such folk look up from their immemorially -appointed round of duty and interests -to meddle with the unknown and fuss with voting-papers? -How would you, atop of all your interests, -care to conduct even one-tenth of your life -according to the manners and customs of the -Papuans, let’s say? That’s what it comes to.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But if they won’t take the trouble to vote, -why do you anticipate that Mahommedans, proprietors, -and the rest would be crushed by majorities -of them?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Again Pagett disregarded the closing sentence.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Because, though the landholders would not -move a finger on any purely political question, -they could be raised in dangerous excitement by -religious hatreds. Already the first note of this -has been sounded by the people who are trying -to get up an agitation on the cow-killing question, -and every year there is trouble over the Mahommedan -Muharrum processions.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But who looks after the popular rights, being -thus unrepresented?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“The Government of Her Majesty the Queen, -Empress of India, in which, if the Congress promoters -are to be believed, the people have an implicit -trust; for the Congress circular, specially -prepared for rustic comprehension, says the movement -is ‘<em>for the remission of tax, the advancement of -Hindustan, and the strengthening of the British Government.</em>’ -<span class='pageno' id='Page_361'>361</span>This paper is headed in large letters—‘<span class='sc'>May -the Prosperity of the Empress of India -endure.</span>’”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Really!” said Pagett, “that shows some cleverness. -But there are things better worth imitation -in our English methods of—er—political statement -than this sort of amiable fraud.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Anyhow,” resumed Orde, “you perceive that -not a word is said about elections and the elective -principle, and the reticence of the Congress promoters -here shows they are wise in their generation.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But the elective principle must triumph in the -end, and the little difficulties you seem to anticipate -would give way on the introduction of a well-balanced -scheme capable of indefinite extension.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But is it possible to devise a scheme which, -always assuming that the people took any interest -in it, without enormous expense, ruinous dislocation -of the administration and danger to the public -peace, can satisfy the aspirations of Mr. Hume -and his following, and yet safeguard the interests -of the Mahommedans, the landed and wealthy -classes, the conservative Hindus, the Eurasians, -Parsees, Sikhs, Rajputs, native Christians, domiciled -Europeans and others, who are each important -and powerful in their way?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Pagett’s attention, however, was diverted to the -gate, where a group of cultivators stood in apparent -hesitation.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_362'>362</span>“Here are the twelve Apostles, by Jove!—come -straight out of Raffaele’s cartoons,” said the -M. P., with the fresh appreciation of a new-comer.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Orde, loath to be interrupted, turned impatiently -towards the villagers, and their leader, handing his -long staff to one of his companions, advanced to -the house.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It is old Jelloo, the Lumberdar or head-man -of Pind Sharkot, and a very intelligent man for a -villager.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The Jat farmer had removed his shoes and stood -smiling on the edge of the verandah. His strongly -marked features glowed with russet bronze, and -his bright eyes gleamed under deeply set brows, -contracted by life-long exposure to sunshine. His -beard and moustache, streaked with gray, swept -from bold cliffs of brow and cheek in the large -sweeps one sees drawn by Michael Angelo, and -strands of long black hair mingled with the irregularly -piled wreaths and folds of his turban. The -drapery of stout blue cotton cloth thrown over his -broad shoulders and girt round his narrow loins, -hung from his tall form in broadly sculptured folds -and he would have made a superb model for an -artist in search of a patriarch.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Orde greeted him cordially, and after a polite -pause the countryman started off with a long story -told with impressive earnestness. Orde listened -and smiled, interrupting the speaker at times to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_363'>363</span>argue and reason with him in a tone which Pagett -could hear was kindly, and, finally checking the -flux of words, was about to dismiss him when -Pagett suggested that he should be asked about -the National Congress.</p> - -<p class='c001'>But Jelloo had never heard of it. He was a -poor man, and such things, by the favour of his -Honour, did not concern him.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“What’s the matter with your big friend that -he was so terribly in earnest?” asked Pagett, when -he had left.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Nothing much. He wants the blood of the -people in the next village, who have had smallpox -and cattle plague pretty badly, and by the -help of a wizard, a currier, and several pigs have -passed it on to his own village. ’Wants to know -if they can’t be run in for this awful crime. It -seems they made a dreadful charivari at the village -boundary, threw a quantity of spell-bearing objects -over the border, a buffalo’s skull and other things; -then branded a <em>chamar</em>—what you would call a -currier—on his hinder parts and drove him and -a number of pigs over into Jelloo’s village. Jelloo -says he can bring evidence to prove that the wizard -directing these proceedings, who is a Sansi, has -been guilty of theft, arson, cattle-killing, perjury -and murder, but would prefer to have him punished -for bewitching them and inflicting smallpox.”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_364'>364</span>“And how on earth did you answer such a -lunatic?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Lunatic! the old fellow is as sane as you or I; -and he has some ground of complaint against -those Sansis. I asked if he would like a native -superintendent of police with some men to make -inquiries, but he objected on the grounds the -police were rather worse than small-pox and criminal -tribes put together.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Criminal tribes—er—I don’t quite understand,” -said Pagett.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“We have in India many tribes of people who -in the slack ante-British days became robbers, in -various kind, and preyed on the people. They -are being restrained and reclaimed little by little, -and in time will become useful citizens, but they -still cherish hereditary traditions of crime, and are -a difficult lot to deal with. By the way, what -about the political rights of these folk under -your schemes? The country people call them -vermin, but I suppose they would be electors -with the rest.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Nonsense—special provision would be made -for them in a well-considered electoral scheme, -and they would doubtless be treated with -fitting severity,” said Pagett with a magisterial -air.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Severity, yes—but whether it would be fitting -is doubtful. Even those poor devils have rights, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_365'>365</span>and, after all, they only practise what they have -been taught.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But criminals, Orde!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Yes, criminals with codes and rituals of crime, -gods and godlings of crime, and a hundred songs -and sayings in praise of it. Puzzling, isn’t -it?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It’s simply dreadful. They ought to be put -down at once. Are there many of them?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Not more than about sixty thousand in this -province, for many of the tribes broadly described -as criminal are really vagabond and criminal only -on occasion, while others are being settled and reclaimed. -They are of great antiquity, a legacy -from the past, the golden, glorious Aryan past of -Max Müller, Birdwood and the rest of your spindrift -philosophers.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>An orderly brought a card to Orde, who took -it with a movement of irritation at the interruption, -and handed it to Pagett: a large card with a ruled -border in red ink, and in the centre in school-boy -copper-plate, <em>Mr. Dina Nath</em>. “Give salaam,” -said the civilian, and there entered in haste a slender -youth, clad in a closely fitting coat of gray -homespun, tight trousers, patent-leather shoes, and -a small black velvet cap. His thin cheek twitched, -and his eyes wandered restlessly, for the young -man was evidently nervous and uncomfortable, -though striving to assume a free-and-easy air.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_366'>366</span>“Your honour may perhaps remember me,” he -said in English, and Orde scanned him keenly.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I know your face, somehow. You belonged -to the Shershah district, I think, when I was in -charge there?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Yes, sir, my father is writer at Shershah, and -your honour gave me a prize when I was first in -the Middle School examination five years ago. -Since then I have prosecuted my studies, and I am -now second year’s student in the Mission College.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Of course: you are Kedar Nath’s son—the -boy who said he liked geography better than play -or sugar-cakes, and I didn’t believe you. How is -your father getting on?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“He is well, and he sends his salaam, but his -circumstances are depressed, and he also is down -on his luck.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“You learn English idioms at the Mission College, -it seems.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Yes, sir, they are the best idioms, and my father -ordered me to ask your honour to say a word -for him to the present incumbent of your honour’s -shoes, the latchet of which he is not worthy to -open, and who knows not Joseph; for things are -different at Shershah now, and my father wants -promotion.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Your father is a good man, and I will do what -I can for him.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>At this point a telegram was handed to Orde, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_367'>367</span>who, after glancing at it, said he must leave his -young friend, whom he introduced to Pagett, “a -member of the English House of Commons who -wishes to learn about India.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Orde had scarcely retired with his telegram when -Pagett began:</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Perhaps you can tell me something of the National -Congress movement?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Sir, it is the greatest movement of modern -times, and one in which all educated men like us -<em>must</em> join. All our students are for the Congress.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Excepting, I suppose, Mahommedans, and the -Christians?” said Pagett, quick to use his recent -instruction.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“These are some <em>mere</em> exceptions to the universal -rule.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But the people outside the College, the working -classes, the agriculturists; your father and mother, -for instance.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“My mother,” said the young man, with a visible -effort to bring himself to pronounce the word, -“has no ideas, and my father is not agriculturist, -nor working class; he is of the Kayeth caste; but -he had not the advantage of a collegiate education, -and he does not know much of the Congress. It -is a movement for the educated young-man”—connecting -adjective and noun in a sort of vocal -hyphen.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Ah, yes,” said Pagett, feeling he was a little -<span class='pageno' id='Page_368'>368</span>off the rails, “and what are the benefits you expect -to gain by it?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Oh, sir, everything. England owes its greatness -to Parliamentary institutions and we should -<em>at once</em> gain the same high position in scale of nations. -Sir, we wish to have the sciences, the arts, -the manufactures, the industrial factories, with -steam-engines and other motive powers and public -meetings and debates. Already we have a debating -club in connection with the college and -elect a Mr. Speaker. Sir, the progress <em>must</em> come. -You also are a Member of Parliament and worship -the great Lord Ripon,” said the youth, breathlessly, -and his black eyes flashed as he finished his commaless -sentences.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Well,” said Pagett, drily, “it has not yet occurred -to me to worship his Lordship, although I -believe he is a very worthy man, and I am not -sure that England owes quite all the things you -name to the House of Commons. You see, my -young friend, the growth of a nation like ours is -slow, subject to many influences, and if you have -read your history aright——”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Sir, I know it all—all! Norman Conquest, -Magna Charta, Runnymede, Reformation, Tudors, -Stuarts, Mr. Milton and Mr. Burke, and I have -read something of Mr. Herbert Spencer and Gibbon’s -‘Decline and Fall,’ Reynolds’ ‘Mysteries of -the Court,’ and——”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_369'>369</span>Pagett felt like one who had pulled the string -of a shower-bath unawares, and hastened to stop -the torrent with a question as to what particular -grievances of the people of India the attention of -an elected assembly should be first directed. But -young Mr. Dina Nath was slow to particularise. -There were many, very many demanding consideration. -Mr. Pagett would like to hear of one -or two typical examples. The Repeal of the -Arms Act was at last named, and the student -learned for the first time that a license was necessary -before an Englishman could carry a gun in -England. Then natives of India ought to be -allowed to become Volunteer Riflemen if they -chose, and the absolute equality of the Oriental -with his European fellow-subject in civil status -should be proclaimed on principle, and the Indian -Army should be considerably reduced. The -student was not, however, prepared with answers -to Mr. Pagett’s mildest questions on these points, -and he returned to vague generalities, leaving the -M. P. so much impressed with the crudity of his -views that he was glad on Orde’s return to say -good-bye to his “very interesting” young friend.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“What do you think of young India?” asked -Orde.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Curious, very curious—and callow.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“And yet,” the civilian replied, “one can -scarcely help sympathising with him for his mere -<span class='pageno' id='Page_370'>370</span>youth’s sake. The young orators of the Oxford -Union arrived at the same conclusions and showed -doubtless just the same enthusiasm. If there were -any political analogy between India and England, -if the thousand races of this Empire were one, if -there were any chance even of their learning to -speak one language, if, in short, India were a -Utopia of the debating-room, and not a real land, -this kind of talk might be worth listening to, but -it is all based on false analogy and ignorance of -the facts.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But he is a native and knows the facts.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“He is a sort of English schoolboy, but married -three years, and the father of two weaklings, and -knows less than most English schoolboys. You -saw all he is and knows, and such ideas as he has -acquired are directly hostile to the most cherished -convictions of the vast majority of the people.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But what does he mean by saying he is a -student of a mission college? Is he a Christian?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“He meant just what he said, and he is not a -Christian, nor ever will he be. Good people in -America, Scotland, and England, most of whom -would never dream of collegiate education for -their own sons, are pinching themselves to bestow -it in pure waste on Indian youths. Their scheme -is an oblique, subterranean attack on heathenism; -the theory being that with the jam of secular -education, leading to a University degree, the pill -<span class='pageno' id='Page_371'>371</span>of moral or religious instruction may be coaxed -down the heathen gullet.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But does it succeed; do they make converts?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“They make no converts, for the subtle Oriental -swallows the jam and rejects the pill; but -the mere example of the sober, righteous, and -godly lives of the principals and professors, who -are most excellent and devoted men, must have a -certain moral value. Yet, as Lord Lansdowne -pointed out the other day, the market is dangerously -overstocked with graduates of our Universities -who look for employment in the administration. -An immense number are employed, but -year by year the college mills grind out increasing -lists of youths foredoomed to failure and disappointment, -and meanwhile trade, manufactures, -and the industrial arts are neglected and in fact -regarded with contempt by our new literary -mandarins <span lang="la" xml:lang="la"><i>in posse</i></span>.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But our young friend said he wanted steam-engines -and factories,” said Pagett.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Yes, he would like to direct such concerns. -He wants to begin at the top, for manual labour -is held to be discreditable, and he would never -defile his hands by the apprenticeship which the -architects, engineers, and manufacturers of England -cheerfully undergo; and he would be aghast to -learn that the leading names of industrial enterprise -<span class='pageno' id='Page_372'>372</span>in England belonged a generation or two -since, or now belong, to men who wrought with -their own hands. And, though he talks glibly of -manufacturers, he refuses to see that the Indian -manufacturer of the future will be the despised -workman of the present. It was proposed, for -example, a few weeks ago, that a certain municipality -in this province should establish an elementary -technical school for the sons of workmen. -The stress of the opposition to the plan came -from a pleader who owed all he had to a college -education bestowed on him gratis by Government -and missions. You would have fancied some fine -old crusted Tory squire of the last generation was -speaking. ‘These people,’ he said, ‘want no education, -for they learn their trades from their fathers, -and to teach a workman’s son the elements of -mathematics and physical science would give him -ideas above his business. They must be kept in -their place, and it was idle to imagine that there -was any science in wood or iron work.’ And he -carried his point. But the Indian workman will -rise in the social scale in spite of the new literary -caste.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“In England we have scarcely begun to realise -that there is an industrial class in this country, yet, -I suppose, the example of men like Edwards, for -instance, must tell,” said Pagett thoughtfully.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“That you shouldn’t know much about it is -<span class='pageno' id='Page_373'>373</span>natural enough, for there are but few sources of -information. India in this, as in other respects, is -like a badly kept ledger—not written up to date. -And men like Edwards are, in reality, missionaries -who by precept and example are teaching more -lessons than they know. Only a few, however, -of their crowds of subordinates seem to care to try -to emulate them, and aim at individual advancement; -the rest drop into the ancient Indian caste -groove.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“How do you mean?” asked Pagett.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Well, it is found that the new railway and -factory workmen, the fitter, the smith, the engine-driver, -and the rest are already forming separate -hereditary castes. You may notice this down at -Jamalpur in Bengal, one of the oldest railway -centres; and at other places, and in other industries, -they are following the same inexorable Indian -law.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Which means——?” queried Pagett.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It means that the rooted habit of the people -is to gather in small self-contained, self-sufficing -family groups with no thought or care for any -interests but their own—a habit which is scarcely -compatible with the right acceptation of the elective -principle.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Yet you must admit, Orde, that though our -young friend was not able to expound the faith -that is in him, your Indian army is too big.”</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_374'>374</span>“Not nearly big enough for its main purpose. -And, as a side issue, there are certain powerful -minorities of fighting folk whose interests an Asiatic -Government is bound to consider. Arms is -as much a means of livelihood as civil employ -under Government and law. And it would be -a heavy strain on British bayonets to hold down -Sikhs, Jats, Bilochis, Rohillas, Rajputs, Bhils, -Dogras, Pathans, and Gurkhas to abide by the -decisions of a numerical majority opposed to their -interests. Leave the ‘numerical majority’ to itself -without the British bayonets—a flock of sheep -might as reasonably hope to manage a troop of -collies.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“This complaint about excessive growth of the -army is akin to another contention of the Congress -party. They protest against the malversation -of the whole of the moneys raised by additional -taxes as a Famine Insurance Fund to other -purposes. You must be aware that this special -Famine Fund has all been spent on frontier roads -and defences and strategic railway schemes as a -protection against Russia.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But there was never a special famine fund -raised by special taxation and put by as in a box. -No sane administrator would dream of such a -thing. In a time of prosperity a finance minister, -rejoicing in a margin, proposed to annually apply -a million and a half to the construction of railways -<span class='pageno' id='Page_375'>375</span>and canals for the protection of districts liable -to scarcity, and to the reduction of the annual -loans for public works. But times were not always -prosperous, and the finance minister had to -choose whether he would hang up the insurance -scheme for a year or impose fresh taxation. When -a farmer hasn’t got the little surplus he hoped to -have for buying a new waggon and draining a -low-lying field corner, you don’t accuse him of -malversation if he spends what he has on the -necessary work of the rest of his farm.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>A clatter of hoofs was heard, and Orde looked -up with vexation, but his brow cleared as a horseman -halted under the porch.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Hello, Orde! just looked in to ask if you are -coming to polo on Tuesday: we want you badly -to help to crumple up the Krab Bokhar team.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Orde explained that he had to go out into the -District, and while the visitor complained that -though good men wouldn’t play, duffers were always -keen, and that his side would probably be -beaten, Pagett rose to look at his mount, a red, -lathered Biloch mare, with a curious lyre-like incurving -of the ears. “Quite a little thoroughbred -in all other respects,” said the M. P., and Orde -presented Mr. Reginald Burke, Manager of the -Sind and Sialkote Bank, to his friend.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Yes, she’s as good as they make ’em, and -she’s all the female I possess, and spoiled in consequence, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_376'>376</span>aren’t you, old girl?” said Burke, patting -the mare’s glossy neck as she backed and -plunged.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Mr. Pagett,” said Orde, “has been asking me -about the Congress. What is your opinion?” -Burke turned to the M. P. with a frank smile.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Well, if it’s all the same to you, sir, I should -say, Damn the Congress, but then I’m no politician, -but only a business man.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“You find it a tiresome subject?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Yes, it’s all that, and worse than that, for this -kind of agitation is anything but wholesome for -the country.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“How do you mean?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It would be a long job to explain, and Sara -here won’t stand, but you know how sensitive -capital is, and how timid investors are. All this -sort of rot is likely to frighten them, and we can’t -afford to frighten them. The passengers aboard -an Ocean steamer don’t feel reassured when the -ship’s way is stopped and they hear the workmen’s -hammers tinkering at the engines down -below. The old Ark’s going on all right as she -is, and only wants quiet and room to move. -Them’s my sentiments, and those of some other -people who have to do with money and business.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Then you are a thick-and-thin supporter of -the Government as it is.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Why, no! The Indian Government is much -<span class='pageno' id='Page_377'>377</span>too timid with its money—like an old maiden -aunt of mine—always in a funk about her investments. -They don’t spend half enough on railways, -for instance, and they are slow in a general way, -and ought to be made to sit up in all that concerns -the encouragement of private enterprise, and -coaxing out into use the millions of capital that -lie dormant in the country.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The mare was dancing with impatience, and -Burke was evidently anxious to be off, so the men -wished him good-bye.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Who is your genial friend who condemns both -Congress and Government in a breath?” asked -Pagett, with an amused smile.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Just now he is Reggie Burke, keener on polo -than on anything else, but if you went to the Sind -and Sialkote Bank to-morrow you would find Mr. -Reginald Burke a very capable man of business, -known and liked by an immense constituency -North and South of this.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Do you think he is right about the Government’s -want of enterprise?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I should hesitate to say. Better consult the -merchants and chambers of commerce in Cawnpore, -Madras, Bombay, and Calcutta. But though -these bodies would like, as Reggie puts it, to make -Government sit up, it is an elementary consideration -in governing a country like India, which must -be administered for the benefit of the people at -<span class='pageno' id='Page_378'>378</span>large, that the counsels of those who resort to it -for the sake of making money should be judiciously -weighed and not allowed to overpower the -rest. They are welcome guests here, as a matter -of course, but it has been found best to restrain -their influence. Thus the rights of plantation -labourers, factory operatives, and the like, have -been protected, and the capitalist, eager to get on, -has not always regarded Government action with -favour. It is quite conceivable that under an -elective system the commercial communities of the -great towns might find means to secure majorities -on labour questions and on financial matters.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“They would act at least with intelligence and -consideration.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Intelligence, yes; but as to consideration, who -at the present moment most bitterly resents the -tender solicitude of Lancashire for the welfare and -protection of the Indian factory operative? English -and native capitalists running cotton mills and -factories.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But is the solicitude of Lancashire in this matter -entirely disinterested?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“It is no business of mine to say. I merely -indicate an example of how a powerful commercial -interest might hamper a Government -intent in the first place on the larger interests of -humanity.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Orde broke off to listen a moment. “There’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_379'>379</span>Dr. Lathrop talking to my wife in the drawing-room,” -said he.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Surely not; that’s a lady’s voice, and if my -ears don’t deceive me, an American.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Exactly; Dr. Eva McCreery Lathrop, chief of -the new Women’s Hospital here, and a very good -fellow forbye. Good morning, Doctor,” he said, -as a graceful figure came out on the verandah; -“you seem to be in trouble. I hope Mrs. Orde -was able to help you.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Your wife is real kind and good; I always -come to her when I’m in a fix, but I fear it’s more -than comforting I want.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“You work too hard and wear yourself out,” -said Orde, kindly. “Let me introduce my friend, -Mr. Pagett, just fresh from home, and anxious to -learn his India. You could tell him something -of that more important half of which a mere man -knows so little.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Perhaps I could if I’d any heart to do it, but -I’m in trouble, I’ve lost a case, a case that was doing -well, through nothing in the world but inattention -on the part of a nurse I had begun to trust. -And when I spoke only a small piece of my mind -she collapsed in a whining heap on the floor. It -is hopeless!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>The men were silent, for the blue eyes of the -lady doctor were dim. Recovering herself, she -looked up with a smile half sad, half humorous. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_380'>380</span>“And I am in a whining heap too; but what phase -of Indian life are you particularly interested in, sir?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Mr. Pagett intends to study the political aspect -of things and the possibility of bestowing electoral -institutions on the people.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Wouldn’t it be as much to the purpose to bestow -point-lace collars on them? They need many -things more urgently than votes. Why, it’s like -giving a bread-pill for a broken leg.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Er—I don’t quite follow,” said Pagett uneasily.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Well, what’s the matter with this country is -not in the least political, but an all-round entanglement -of physical, social, and moral evils and -corruptions, all more or less due to the unnatural -treatment of women. You can’t gather figs from -thistles, and so long as the system of infant marriage, -the prohibition of the remarriage of widows, -the lifelong imprisonment of wives and mothers in -a worse than penal confinement, and the withholding -from them of any kind of education or treatment -as rational beings continues, the country -can’t advance a step. Half of it is morally dead, -and worse than dead, and that’s just the half from -which we have a right to look for the best impulses. -It’s right here where the trouble is, and not in any -political considerations whatsoever.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But do they marry so early?” said Pagett, -vaguely.</p> - -<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_381'>381</span>“The average age is seven, but thousands are -married still earlier. One result is that girls of -twelve and thirteen have to bear the burden of -wifehood and motherhood, and, as might be expected, -the rate of mortality both for mothers and -children is terrible. Pauperism, domestic unhappiness, -and a low state of health are only a few -of the consequences of this. Then, when, as frequently -happens, the boy-husband dies prematurely, -his widow is condemned to worse than -death. She may not re-marry, must live a secluded -and despised life, a life so unnatural that she sometimes -prefers suicide; more often she goes astray. -You don’t know in England what such words as -‘infant-marriage, baby-wife, girl-mother, and virgin-widow’ -mean; but they mean unspeakable -horrors here.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Well, but the advanced political party here -will surely make it their business to advocate -social reforms as well as political ones,” said -Pagett.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Very surely they will do no such thing,” said -the lady doctor, emphatically. “I <em>wish</em> I could -make you understand. Why, even of the funds -devoted to the Marchioness of Dufferin’s organisation -for medical aid to the women of India, it was -said in print and in speech that they would be -better spent on more college scholarships for men. -And in all the advanced parties’ talk—God forgive -<span class='pageno' id='Page_382'>382</span>them—and in all their programmes, they -carefully avoid all such subjects. They will talk -about the protection of the cow, for that’s an -ancient superstition—they can all understand -that; but the protection of the women is a new -and dangerous idea.” She turned to Pagett impulsively:</p> - -<p class='c001'>“You are a member of the English Parliament. -Can you do nothing? The foundations of their -life are rotten—utterly and bestially rotten. I -could tell your wife things that I couldn’t tell you. -I know the life—the inner life that belongs to the -native, and I know nothing else; and, believe me, -you might as well try to grow golden-rod in a -mushroom-pit as to make anything of a people -that are born and reared as these—these things -are. The men talk of their rights and privileges. -I have seen the women that bear these very men, -and again—may God forgive the men!”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Pagett’s eyes opened with a large wonder. Dr. -Lathrop rose tempestuously.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I must be off to lecture,” said she, “and I’m -sorry that I can’t show you my hospitals; but you -had better believe, sir, that it’s more necessary for -India than all the elections in creation.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“That’s a woman with a mission, and no mistake,” -said Pagett, after a pause.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Yes; she believes in her work, and so do I,” -said Orde. “I’ve a notion that in the end it will -<span class='pageno' id='Page_383'>383</span>be found that the most helpful work done for -India in this generation was wrought by Lady -Dufferin in drawing attention—what work that -was, by the way, even with her husband’s great -name to back it!—to the needs of women here. -In effect, native habits and beliefs are an organised -conspiracy against the laws of health and happy -life—but there is some dawning of hope now.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“How d’you account for the general indifference, -then?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I suppose it’s due in part to their fatalism -and their utter indifference to all human suffering. -How much do you imagine the great province -of the Punjab, with over twenty million people -and half a score rich towns, has contributed to -the maintenance of civil dispensaries last year? -About seven thousand rupees.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“That’s seven hundred pounds,” said Pagett -quickly.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I wish it was,” replied Orde; “but anyway, -it’s an absurdly inadequate sum, and shows one -of the blank sides of Oriental character.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Pagett was silent for a long time. The question -of direct and personal pain did not lie within -his researches. He preferred to discuss the -weightier matters of the law, and contented himself -with murmuring: “They’ll do better later on.” -Then, with a rush, returning to his first thought:</p> - -<p class='c001'>“But, my dear Orde, if it’s merely a class -<span class='pageno' id='Page_384'>384</span>movement of a local and temporary character, -how d’you account for Bradlaugh, who is at least -a man of sense, taking it up?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“I know nothing of the champion of the New -Brahmans but what I see in the papers. I suppose -there is something tempting in being hailed -by a large assemblage as the representative of the -aspirations of two hundred and fifty millions of -people. Such a man looks ‘through all the roaring -and the wreaths,’ and does not reflect that it is a -false perspective, which, as a matter of fact, hides -the real complex and manifold India from his -gaze. He can scarcely be expected to distinguish -between the ambitions of a new oligarchy and the -real wants of the people of whom he knows nothing. -But it’s strange that a professed Radical -should come to be the chosen advocate of a -movement which has for its aim the revival of an -ancient tyranny. Shows how even Radicalism -can fall into academic grooves and miss the essential -truths of its own creed. Believe me, Pagett, -to deal with India you want first-hand knowledge -and experience. I wish he would come and live -here for a couple of years or so.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Is not this rather an <span lang="la" xml:lang="la"><i>ad hominem</i></span> style of argument?”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Can’t help it in a case like this. Indeed, I -am not sure you ought not to go further and -weigh the whole character and quality and upbringing -<span class='pageno' id='Page_385'>385</span>of the man. You must admit that the -monumental complacency with which he trotted -out his ingenious little Constitution for India -showed a strange want of imagination and the -sense of humour.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“No, I don’t quite admit it,” said Pagett.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Well, you know him and I don’t, but that’s -how it strikes a stranger.” He turned on his heel -and paced the verandah thoughtfully. “And, -after all, the burden of the actual, daily unromantic -toil falls on the shoulders of the men out here, -and not on his own. He enjoys all the privileges -of recommendation without responsibility, and we—well, -perhaps, when you’ve seen a little more -of India you’ll understand. To begin with, our -death-rate’s five times higher than yours—I -speak now for the brutal bureaucrat—and we -work on the refuse of worked-out cities and exhausted -civilisations, among the bones of the -dead.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Pagett laughed. “That’s an epigrammatic way -of putting it, Orde.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Is it? Let’s see,” said the Deputy Commissioner -of Amara, striding into the sunshine towards -a half-naked gardener potting roses. He took the -man’s hoe, and went to a rain-scarped bank at the -bottom of the garden.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Come here, Pagett,” he said, and cut at the -sun-baked soil. After three strokes there rolled -<span class='pageno' id='Page_386'>386</span>from under the blade of the hoe the half of a -clanking skeleton that settled at Pagett’s feet in -an unseemly jumble of bones. The M. P. drew -back.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Our houses are built on cemeteries,” said -Orde. “There are scores of thousands of graves -within ten miles.”</p> - -<p class='c001'>Pagett was contemplating the skull with the -awed fascination of a man who has but little to do -with the dead. “India’s a very curious place,” -said he, after a pause.</p> - -<p class='c001'>“Ah? You’ll know all about it in three -months. Come in to lunch,” said Orde.</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<p class='c001'><a id='endnote'></a></p> -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><span class='large'>Transcriber’s Note</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c001'>Many chapters included a copyright statement at the bottom of the first page. -These have been relocated to directly follow the title.</p> - -<p class='c001'>The name ‘Yardley-Orde’ (pp. 169 & 175) appears twice as ‘Yardely-Orde’ (pp. 180 & 182). -References to the character in Kipling critical texts use the former, and the variant -is corrected here.</p> - -<p class='c001'>Errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected, and -are noted here. The references are to the page and line in the original. -The following issues should be noted, along with the resolutions.</p> - -<table class='table1' summary=''> -<colgroup> -<col width='12%' /> -<col width='69%' /> -<col width='18%' /> -</colgroup> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><a id='c_2.29'></a><a href='#corr2.29'>2.29</a></td> - <td class='c006'>Do not join me[./,] for</td> - <td class='c024'>Replaced.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><a id='c_37.20'></a><a href='#corr37.20'>37.20</a></td> - <td class='c006'>Whereever where[e]ver a grain cart atilt</td> - <td class='c024'>Removed.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><a id='c_78.1'></a><a href='#corr78.1'>78.1</a></td> - <td class='c006'>two thousand pack-bullocks cross in one night[,/.]</td> - <td class='c024'>Replaced.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><a id='c_151.9'></a><a href='#corr151.9'>151.9</a></td> - <td class='c006'>its paws lacking strength or direction[./,]</td> - <td class='c024'>Replaced.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><a id='c_180.20'></a><a href='#corr180.20'>180.20</a></td> - <td class='c006'>Yard[el/le]y-Orde knew his failing</td> - <td class='c024'>Transposed.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><a id='c_182.12'></a><a href='#corr182.12'>182.12</a></td> - <td class='c006'>In Yard[el/le]y-Orde’s consulship</td> - <td class='c024'>Transposed.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><a id='c_216.4'></a><a href='#corr216.4'>216.4</a></td> - <td class='c006'>to clear the men out of Twenty-[t/T]wo</td> - <td class='c024'>Uppercase.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><a id='c_219.3'></a><a href='#corr219.3'>219.3</a></td> - <td class='c006'>and the Me[ha/ah]s, who are thrice bastard Muhammadans</td> - <td class='c024'>Transposed?</td> - </tr> -</table> - -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of In Black and White, by Rudyard Kipling - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN BLACK AND WHITE *** - -***** This file should be named 62346-h.htm or 62346-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/2/3/4/62346/ - -Produced by KD Weeks, MFR and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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