CHAPTER XII.

It is now necessary to revisit Abdool Rhyman Khan and his party, whom we

left at a small village in the pass leading behind Pencondah, and in

their company to travel awhile through those districts which lay between

them and the city whither they were bound.

There were no dangers now in their path, no attacks from the Mahrattas

to be apprehended, nor was there the irksome heat which oppressed and

wearied them before. A few showers had already fallen, the earth had put

on its verdant covering, and travelling was now a pleasure more than a

fatigue. The Khan had intended proceeding by easy stages, but the news

he had heard of rumours of fresh wars, of the personal activity of

Tippoo among the army, which was always the forerunner of some campaign,

made him more than usually solicitous to press forward.

So on the fifth day they were at Balapoor; and leaving the lady to the

care of the servants to rest for awhile, the Khan, accompanied by Kasim,

rode forward to the town and fort of Nundidgroog, where he knew some of

his own men were stationed.

‘Do you see that pile of rocks yonder?’ said the Khan to Kasim, as they

rode along.

‘I do; why do you ask?’

‘Because,’ he replied, ‘that is a place well worth seeing, and one which

was a rare favourite of Hyder Ali’s—may his memory be honoured!’

‘Why? Had he a summer-house there?’

‘Yes, there is a sort of a house there, to be sure,’ returned the Khan

laughing; ‘but not one of pleasure, I should think. Many a poor wretch

has been in it, who would have given the wealth of the world, had he

possessed it, to have got out again.’

‘It is a prison then?’

‘It is, and one from which but few return alive.’

‘How so? You do not mean to say that they are murdered?’

‘I mean to tell you plainly, that you had better not get into it; few of

our people have ever been sent there, for it is reserved for the kafir

English—may their tribe be accursed!—and a few of them are now and then

thrown from the top, to terrify the rest into submission to the

Sultaun’s will, and to become a feast for the kites and crows. Look! I

suppose some of them have been cast over lately, for there are vultures

wheeling in the air overhead, and making stoops as if they would

alight.’

Kasim shuddered; he thought it a base death for any one to die, to be

thrown from thence—to reach the bottom haply alive!—and to be left to

struggle there maimed and helpless—to linger till death came,

accelerated perhaps by the jackals or vultures.

‘Have you ever seen this, Khan?’ asked Kasim.

‘Never, but I know those who have: the office of executioner is no

enviable one to a soldier; and he who has this post, though as arrant a

coward as can well be in the field, yet can stand by and see brave men

hurled over these rocks; for, to do them justice, the English are brave

as lions and their courage cannot be quelled: we learned that at

Perambaukum, to our cost.’

‘Ay, I have heard of that. Report states it to have been a good battle.’

‘Mashalla! you may say so; and, blessed be Alla! the arms of the true

believers were victorious over the infidels; yet they fought well, and,

though a handful of men, defied our utmost attacks and continued

charges.’

‘Then you were there, Ali Khan?’

‘Yes. I was then in the Pagha—the Royal Guard; and I was desired by

Hyder (peace be on his name!) to protect Tippoo Sahib, who led the

charges. He fought like a tiger as he is, and many of the infidels

tasted of death at his hand; but one of them, as we charged and

overthrew their last square, made a thrust with his bayonet at the young

prince, which—praise to Mahomed!—I parried; and in return, caused him to

taste of death. The young man never forgot that deed, and some others I

was fortunate enough to perform before him, and I am what I am.’

‘Then, like those of his rank, he does not forget benefits?’

‘Never; he is faithful to those he loves, but a bitter foe to those who

provoke him. Above all, the English are his detestation; he sees their

restless love of intrigue and power; he knows how they have sown

dissensions in Bengal, and wrested many fair provinces from the sway of

the true believers; he fears their abilities and knowledge of the arts

of war; and though he has some French in his service, yet he can see

plainly enough that they have not the powers of the others either to

contrive or to execute. Above all, he fears the prophecy about him by a

holy man whom he consulted, which no doubt you have heard.’

‘No, indeed, I have not.’

‘Not heard that? Ajaib! it is very strange; but how could you, after

all. Know then, that as he sat one day in one of the innermost

apartments of the palace in the garden of the Deria Doulut—where no one

could by any possibility have access to him, and where he was engaged in

study—there was heard a voice conversing with him, and his was gradually

raised till it became furious, as, Inshalla! it often does to the terror

of his enemies.’

‘Taajoob!’ exclaimed Kasim, ‘who was it?’

‘Willa alum! (God knows),’ replied the Khan. ‘But listen: it is said the

Mushaek[23]—for so he appeared to be—cried to him with a loud voice, and

bade him beware of the English Feringhees, for they were plotting

against him; and that though the day was far distant, yet danger

threatened him from them which could not be avoided. Then some say that

the being (may Alla forgive me if he hears it!) upbraided the Sultaun

with many errors of faith, and with being given to idolatry in private,

and with doing magic, to the hurt of his own soul; and it was this which

made him so angry.’

-----

Footnote 23:

Holy man.

-----

‘And who was it after all?’

‘Alla knows!’ said the Khan mysteriously; ‘Alla knows! Some people say

it was a Fakeer named Shah Yoonoos, who had wandered in unknown to

anybody, and had reached the Sultaun’s chamber; but others say it was

one of the spirits of the air (over whom it is known he has power) who

had taken that form to visit him by day. But Alla only knows the truth,

after all. Certain it is, however, that he does perform rites which I,

as a humble and pious Mahomedan, would object to.’

‘Did no one try to seize the intruder?’

‘Many, so it is said; but he passed forth from among them all, and has

not been seen since.’

‘Most extraordinary, certainly! I marvel not now, Khan, that he should

be so suspicious of the English. I for one long to have a blow with

them, and to see how they fight.’

‘Inshalla! the opportunity will not be long wanting; you will have it

ere you have been long with us. But among our people here we shall learn

something, for they have always the quickest information from the

capital.’

Shortly afterwards they rode into the outer court of the Temple of

Nundi, at the town under the fort of Nundidroog, and the scene which

presented itself to the eyes of Kasim was as novel as it was

interesting.

The court was a large square, contained in a sort of piazza formed by a

colonnade of huge square blocks of granite placed in three rows, about

twelve feet asunder, each piece probably sixteen feet in height; across

these at the top, to form a roof, were transverse pieces of equal

length. The spaces between the pillars thus placed, formed excellent

stalls for horses, and the enormous area was thus converted into one

huge stable,—where of old the Brahmin priests had wandered, dispensing

charitable aid to the wretched, or instructing those who thirsted for

knowledge.

In the centre were a few gay tents, and many camels were sitting and

standing around them; several elephants too were busied with huge piles

of leafy branches before them, selecting the tenderest morsels, and

brushing away flies with others. Around were groups of men,—some lying

under a rude screen, formed of three spears tied together, with a cloth

thrown over them; others lounging and swaggering about, gaily dressed,

and armed to the teeth; many were gathered into knots, and, either

sitting upon spread carpets or standing together, were occupied in

smoking, or listening to some itinerant musicians or storytellers. In

various parts were little booths, where coarse confectionery was sold;

and many a portly-bellied group of money-changers, with their keen and

shrewd eyes, were sitting on the ground, naked to the waist, with heaps

of courees and pice[24] spread before them. There were women selling

fruit out of baskets and sacks, others hawking about sour curds; with a

thousand other busy, bustling occupations going on with vigour, for

which the presence of the cavalry found full employment.

-----

Footnote 24:

Copper coin.

-----

Before them, and above the piazzas, appeared the richly ornamented and

curious high pyramidical roofs of the temples, and their massive and

decorated gateway; and above all frowned the bare rock of the fort,—a

naked mass of about eight hundred feet perpendicular, arising from a

rugged and woody slope of an equal height. The walls around the summit,

which were built upon the very giddy verge, were bristling with cannon,

and the numbers of men about showed that it possessed many defenders.

All these objects, assisted by the bright colours of the costumes, the

caparisons of the horses, camels, and elephants, some of which were

already equipped for travel, formed a picture which, glowing under the

slanting beams of an afternoon sun, caused the young man’s heart to

bound with delight as they entered the large square and rode onwards

among the motley crowd.

‘What think you of my fine fellows, Kasim?’ said the Khan, as they

passed various groups of stout, soldier-like men. ‘Inshalla! they are

worth looking at.’

‘Ul-humd-ul-illa! they most truly are,’ replied the young man, who was,

to say the truth, somewhat bewildered by the excitement of the scene.

‘And do you really command all these, O Khan?’

‘Most of them, I daresay, are my youths, Kasim; but I have no doubt some

of the garrison of the fort are here also, and it would be difficult to

distinguish them. But these are not all; Mashalla! and praise to the

Sultaun’s bounty, we have as many more at least—nay, three times as

many—at the city. But there is surely more activity than usual going on,

and this looks marvellously like the preparations for a march; so let us

press on to the tent yonder, for there shall we find Hubeeb Oolla Khan,

or Shekh Jaffur Sahib, my Jemadars, who will answer my queries. I marvel

none of my rogues have yet found me out.’

‘Why, they can hardly see your face, Khan,’ said Kasim; ‘and I daresay

they little expect you to drop, as it were, from the clouds thus

suddenly among them.’

‘Perhaps not; but here we are at the tent: dismount, and let us enter

together.’

As he spoke, the Khan alighted, and unfolding the muslin scarf which had

been tied about his face, he was instantly recognised by a number of the

men who were lounging about in front of it, and who now crowded round

him with congratulations.

‘The Khan Sahib is come!’ shouted several to their companions.

‘My lord’s footsteps are welcome!’ cried those who were nearest.

‘Inshalla! victory waits upon them.’

‘It is a fortunate hour that has brought him,’ cried another, who

pressed forward, and bowed before him. ‘What are my lord’s wishes? let

him order his slave Dilawur Ali to perform them.’

‘Ha! art thou there, friend?’ said the Khan. ‘Well, since thou wishest

for employment, go on, and tell the Jemadar Sahib that I am here. Which

of the officers is with you?’

‘Jaffur Sahib, Khodawund! he will have rare news for my lord;’ and he

departed.

‘This looks like a march,’ said the Khan to another: ‘say, is it so?’

‘It is, protector of the poor! but we know but little of the true cause

as yet, though many rumours are afloat; the most prevalent is—’

But here he was interrupted by the Jemadar himself, who had hurried from

his tent, and now advanced towards them. The two leaders embraced

cordially.

‘Ul-humd-ul-illa! you are welcome, Khan Sahib,’ said Jaffur; ‘but do not

remain here: come, I pray you, to your servant’s tent, and rest after

your journey.’

He went in, and was soon seated upon the soft cushions of the Jemadar’s

musnud. Kasim followed, but, uncertain how to act, he continued

standing, until he was desired by the Khan to be seated near him. This,

together with the Khan’s marked attention to the young man, appeared

rather to disconcert the Jemadar, who regarded the new comer with some

suspicion, and Kasim could not help imagining with some dislike. I shall

have an enemy in this man, thought Kasim for an instant; but again, he

reflected that he had nothing to fear, and soon ceased to regard the

furtive looks of the Jemadar, which were cast upon him from time to

time, as the Khan appealed to him in support of his opinions or remarks

during the conversation, which naturally turned upon the movements of

the corps of cavalry he commanded.

It was true that the corps was about to move: all the outposts, except a

few of those immediately upon the Mahratta frontier, had been called in,

and had joined within the past day or two; and the morrow had been fixed

for the departure of the whole from Nundidroog towards the capital. For

the reason of this many rumours were in circulation: the Jemadar said

that a sudden rupture with the English was one; that there was only to

be a muster of the cavalry was another; and after that was finished the

Sultaun intended to go a-hunting into the forest bordering upon Coorg.

But there was a third, which had been confirmed by news that day

received from the city, that some very angry messages had passed between

the Rajah of Travancore and the Sultaun, and that both had ordered

musters of their forces. This the Jemadar thought the most likely of

all, as he knew there had been negotiations pending between the Sultaun

and the Rajah relative to some forts which had been taken possession of

in a manner that did not appear warrantable by the latter.

For the present, the Khan and Kasim were the guests of the Jemadar; and

having partaken of refreshment, they set out to procure a resting place

for the night, or one where they should be able to have their tents

pitched.

As they went forth, many were the hearty greetings which saluted the

Khan; every veteran especially, whose bronzed and furrowed face showed

that the scorching heats of summer had for many a year passed over him

in constant and active employment; and many a man, whose deeply-scarred

face or breast gave a sure proof of often tried courage, met him with

that hearty familiarity, and yet scrupulous deference, which, while it

yielded nothing to the man, yet showed submission to authority and high

respect for rank. All were unanimous in rejoicing that the Khan had

returned, in such terms as, while it gratified Kasim to think he had

become the friend and companion of one so honoured and beloved, caused

him also to suspect that the Jemadar Jaffur Sahib was not much liked

among them.

Nor indeed was he. Sprung from the lowest rank of the people, he

possessed ferocity of character, which had early attracted the notice of

the Sultaun, and he had risen rapidly to the station he held. He had

also been a ready instrument in his hand to effect any cruelty he

willed; and if war was to be carried into any district where

Mahomedanism had not advanced, and forcible conversions of the

inhabitants were to be made, or if any of the unoffending people were to

be hung because they would not become converts, Jaffur Sahib was

generally selected, as well from his address as a soldier, as from his

unscrupulous character, from among the others of the same stamp who

abounded about the person of the Sultaun. He was born at Arcot, and

inherited all the narrow prejudice and extreme bigotry peculiar to his

townsmen, and hated all English with a malignity, in which perhaps he

was only excelled through all that host by the Sultaun himself.

The presence of Kasim, in such intimate association with his commander,

immediately became a source of vexation to him; and as suddenly as he

had seen him, he had conceived a violent aversion to him. He saw

generous courage, honesty, and faithfulness written upon the brow of the

young man; and as none of these found any place in his own heart, so did

he at once dislike the fancied possessor of them; for he knew the Khan’s

generous nature, and how easily all the authority he had by incessant

intrigues possessed himself of, might be reduced in a moment by one who,

after becoming acquainted with the details of the service, could not

fail of observing that many abuses existed under his fostering care. The

Khan had not mentioned Kasim to him, nor could he divine in what

capacity he attended upon his person, and he burned with curiosity to

discover. When the Khan was gone, therefore, he addressed himself to his

chief Sontaburdar, or bearer of a silver club, whose name was Madar

Sahib, a man who had followed his fortunes, and often shared whatever

spoil was wrung from the unfortunate whom they could get into their

power. There was something too in his retainer’s face which seemed to

expect the question; and at the slight turn of his master towards him,

who had been musing ‘with the finger of deliberation placed between the

teeth of vexation,’ he folded his hands and bent himself to listen. They

were alone, for every one else had followed the Khan when he went out.

‘The curses of the Shietan upon the old fool,’ he said; ‘could not he

have kept away for a day longer? I tell thee, Madar, this appearance of

his is not only a thousand rupees out of my pocket, but the loss to me

of all the honour, credit, and influence which a short campaign would

have given. I say a curse on him.’

‘Ameen!’ said his servant; ‘my lord’s star is unfortunate to-day; but,

Inshalla! it will brighten.’

‘And then that smooth-faced boy that he has brought with him,’ he

continued, not heeding the other’s remark, ‘I’ll warrant, his prime

favourite. Knowest thou aught of him?’

‘Nothing, Khodawund; but I can inquire.’

‘Do so,—see what hath brought them together. Perhaps he is the brother

of this new wife he has married—the old dotard! if so, we may soon

expect to get our leave to depart, Madar, for the old Khan will use his

utmost influence to secure a good place near himself for his pet.’

‘Alla forbid! my lord has no cause to think so as yet; but I go, and

will soon bring the information.’

While this colloquy was going on, the Khan and Kasim had gone forward to

seek for a place of temporary refuge; and after examining many parts of

the broken cloisters, all of which afforded but indifferent shelter,

Dilawur Ali, who had been looking about, suddenly returned.

‘I have found a place, O Khan,’ he cried; ‘come and see; it is clean,

and if we had any kanats,[25] we could make it comfortable enough for a

night’s lodging.’

-----

Footnote 25:

Tent-walls.

-----

They followed him onwards to the end of the large square; and entering

through a small doorway, found themselves in a square court, in the

centre of which was a cistern of water, which could be approached by

easy steps for the convenience of bathers. There was a deep cloister all

round, supported upon carved pillars of wood, which afforded ample

accommodation for the Khan’s party. It was the upper part of the

outside, however, which attracted their attention and admiration; and

indeed the exquisite design and ornaments of the screen would merit a

description at our hands, if anything so intricate could be described so

as to give any idea of the building, but it consisted of a regular

number of highly ornamented niches in the most florid Hindoo style, each

niche containing some many-armed image of Hindoo veneration, male or

female, in grotesque attitudes. The whole was of pure white stucco, and

contrasted brightly with the dark green of some noble tamarind-trees

which nodded over it, their light feathery sprays mingling with the

innumerable angles and pinnacles of the architecture. Above these rose

the tall summits of the temples, and again the naked grey mass of the

huge granite rock frowned over all, appearing to overhang the scene.

‘Ay, this will do right well,’ cried the Khan; ‘we have not been in such

comfortable quarters for many days. The camels will soon be here, and

then a place can be screened off and made private. Often as I have been

at the fort, I never discovered this quiet spot before: truly the kafir

who built it had wisdom; and for once (may the Prophet pardon me!) I

honour one of the accursed race. What sayest thou, Kasim?’

‘I doubt not that forgiveness will be easily granted for an offence so

slight, Khan Sahib. I confess that I for one have many friends among the

unbelievers; and, though I hate their idolatry, yet I cannot help loving

their gentle dispositions, and admiring their genius, which after all is

the gift of Alla to them as much as to us.’

‘You must not give vent to such opinions as those, Kasim,’ replied the

Khan; ‘must he, Dilawur Ali? for at the city there is nought breathed

but destruction of the infidels of all denominations; and if thou

wouldst not make enemies, thou must chime in with the prevailing humour,

or keep thy thoughts to thyself.’

‘Good advice, noble Khan,’ said Dilawur Ali; ‘there are quick ears

enough to hear, and ready tongues enough to convey to the Sultaun (may

his prosperity increase!) whatever malice or spite may dictate to bad

hearts; and we need not go very far from this place to find many. Thou

must pardon this freedom of speech,’ he continued to the young man; ‘but

I am an old soldier, and the Khan Sahib can tell you that I have fought

beside him, and I have often known a young man ruined by indiscretions

of which he was not aware.’

‘I thank you much for your speech,’ said Kasim, ‘and desire your

friendship. Inshalla! we shall know each other well ere long.’

‘Inshalla!’ replied the other; ‘when the Khan Sahib is settled here for

the night safely, if you will come to my tent, I will give you such

information regarding this our service,—for I presume you have joined

it,—as may be of use to you hereafter.’

‘Ay, go to him, Kasim,’ said the Khan; ‘Dilawur Ali is a Syud, a worthy

man, and religious too,—in all respects fit for thy company. From him

thou wilt learn many things which I could not tell thee, and which will

not be lost upon thee.’

As they spoke, the palankeen of the Khan was seen approaching,—the

bearers with some difficulty threading their way through the crowd.

Kasim ran to meet it, and conduct it to the spot where the Khan was; and

for the first time for many days, nay since the attack upon the village,

he caught a glimpse of the fair inmate; for the doors were slightly open

as it approached; and though, as a good Mussulman ought to do, he would

have turned away his head from any other, yet he could not resist the

opportunity of looking through the crevice; and he thought that, if

perchance her eye should rest on his, a moment’s glance would satisfy

him, and would assure him that he was not forgotten.

The bearers were about to make a wrong turn as they came up, and Kasim

called loudly to them. Ameena heard his voice; and the temptation to

steal a passing glance at him (who we must own had been more in her

thoughts than her lord might have liked could he have seen them) caused

her to withdraw from her face the end of her garment with which she had

covered it for an instant, that she might see the better; she would not

have done so perhaps, could she have guessed that he was looking for

her. But as it happened, some obstruction in the way of the bearers

obliged them to stop so close to him, that the palankeen brushed his

person, and they could have spoken, so near were they. Their eyes met

once more; his in admiration which he could not conceal, hers in

confusion which impelled her instantly to cover her face, but not before

she had seen that the scarf she had given him to bind up his wound still

occupied a prominent place upon his breast. ‘He has not thrown it away,’

she said to herself. She little knew how he valued it.

Her palankeen was carried on through the door into the place we have

described. The others had departed, and she was alone with her lord,

who, bidding her his usual hearty and kind welcome, opened the doors

wide, and displayed to her the view which had surprised and delighted

the others previously; and she broke out into a burst of girlish

admiration at a sight she so little expected when her palankeen entered

the gloomy doorway.

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Tippoo Sultaun: A tale of the Mysore war · 第 12 / 49 章