That night passed away slowly as I lay listening, expecting at any
moment to have some visitation before morning, and three times over I
heard faint footsteps outside the tent, but they only proved to be those
of my watchful attendants; and once more, sick at heart, I began to
think that my case was hopeless, because I had not grasped the meaning
of the message, which, for aught I knew, might mean that I was to leave
my tent as soon as it was dark, to trust my would-be rescuers.
The next night I determined to put this plan in force; and soon after
dark I left the tent, and began to stroll up and down, as if enjoying
the cool night air, ending by walking slowly, straight for the opening
by which the rajah always entered the forest glade.
I was just thinking that I had nothing to do but quietly walk away at
any time I chose, when I suddenly came upon a white-robed figure,
bearing shield and naked sword.
The sentry was standing directly in my way, but he moved instantly to
let me pass, and, so as not to excite suspicion by showing any alarm, I
walked on by him; but the next minute there was another armed sentry
just ahead, and on glancing back, there, dimly seen, was the first
sentry, and with him another man, who I fancied was Salaman.
"Hopeless," I thought to myself; and after walking as far as the second
sentry, I quietly turned and began to walk slowly back, coming directly
upon Salaman, who, I now saw, was armed with curved sword and shield
like the others.
He drew half to one side of the path, the first sentry to the other, for
me to pass between them.
"A fine night, Salaman," I said.
He salaamed at my condescension, and I went on.
"There's no occasion to attend upon me so closely."
"My lord must forgive his servant, but there is need. My lord is weak
and unarmed, and there are tigers sometimes in the forest. Should one
spring upon my lord, I should pray that he would then spring upon me,
for I could never face his highness again. Hark! That is six times I
have heard one cry these last few days. And there are budmashes, too,
journeying about, evil men who have been robbing and murdering after the
fights. If they saw my lord's white face, they would fall upon him, and
then when his highness came and said, `Where is my lord?' how could I
face his fierce wrath?"
I made no reply, but strolled back to the wide opening in front of my
tent, passed it, and found myself face to face with another sentry, to
whom I paid not the slightest heed, but bore off to the right, to find
another and another.
After this, pretty well satisfied that I was well guarded, and seeing
here the reason why I had had no visitor again, I returned to my tent,
encountering Salaman on the way.
"Why, Salaman," I said, "you keep pretty good guard."
"It is his highness's orders, my lord."
"How many men have you on sentry?"
"Twenty, my lord; and there are forty in the guard-tent, waiting to go
on duty in turn."
"What?" I cried. "I thought you only had about six men here."
"Only six by day, my lord; these others march over every night to go on
duty."
"Then there is no one on guard in the day?"
"Oh yes, my lord; but they are mounted men with lances; they watch the
roads here for a mile round."
I went into the tent, just as a low distant cry told of the proximity of
a tiger somewhere on the border of the forest.
I was vexed with myself, for my conduct was, I felt, so transparent that
my guardian must be sure to see that I was meditating escape.
"How carefully he guards me!" I thought, as I threw myself on my couch.
"No wonder the bearer of the letter has not been here again."
And there I lay thinking of my position--of the rajah's offer, and,
tempting as it seemed, the more I thought, the more I felt how
impossible it was to turn from my duty as an English officer, to become
the servant and _aide_ of one of our deadliest enemies.
"It can't be," I muttered. "I would sooner die."
And, as I said this, I thought of how likely it would be that this would
be my fate; for, under the smooth velvety ways of the rajah, I could see
that there were sharp feline claws, and that, however great his liking
for me might be if I yielded and acted as he wished, there was all the
fierceness of the Eastern semi-savage, ready to spring out with volcanic
fury if I persisted in thwarting him to the end.
I could not help pitying myself as I lay there, for I was growing
stronger again, and that mounting of the horse had, short as the
enjoyment was, revived in me all my love of exciting action; and was I--
so young as I was--a mere boy, to give up all this when forced, as it
were, by circumstances? I had but to say "yes," and become the greatest
man in the rajah's domains.
"But I can't do it. I won't do it," I said passionately. "I was not
trained in a military school by brave, honourable gentlemen, to give up
and become a renegade. And I will not believe, either, that England is
so beaten that the native rajahs are going to have all their own way."
Somehow, in spite of my desperate position, fully expecting that, at my
next refusal, the rajah would flash out and try force to bring me to his
way, I felt after my calm, quiet, nightly prayer, out there in the
silence of that forest, more at rest and full of hope.
"Things generally mend when they come to the worst," I said, with a
sigh; and now, giving up all expectation of any visitor making his way
to my couch that night, I lay listening to the faint calling of the huge
cat that was prowling about, gazing the while at my shaded lamp, round
which quite a dozen moths were circling, and finally dropped off to
sleep.
It was late in the morning when I opened my eyes, to find the white
figure of Salaman patiently in attendance, waiting for me to get up.
He smiled as soon as he saw that I was awake, and threw open the folds
of the tent door to admit the sunshine. Then, with all the skill and
cleverness of the native valet, he carefully waited on me, relieving me
of all difficulties due to my wounded arm, which was painful in the
extreme if I attempted to move it, and when I was nearly dressed, turned
silently to the door to signal to his men to be ready with my early
coffee.
"The morning is _very_ hot, my lord," he said; "and I have told them to
place the breakfast under the tree. It is a fresh spot, which I hope my
lord will like."
At that moment there was a low moaning cry, as of some one in pain,
hurried steps, loud voices, and then a dull thud, as if some one had
fallen.
Salaman ran out of the tent, and I followed, to find that, some twenty
yards away, a figure in ragged white garments was lying on the ground,
his face covered with blood, which literally dyed his garments; and as
he lay there upon his breast with his arms extended, one hand held a
little round shield, the other grasped a bloody sword.
"What is it?" cried Salaman to four of his men, who were standing about
the prostrate figure.
"As we live, we do not know," said one of them. "He came running up,
crying for help, and when we spoke, he looked back as if frightened, and
struggled on till he fell, as you see."
"He has been attacked by budmashes," said another.
"No," said the first. "Look at his long beard; he is a holy man--a
fakir."
At that moment the poor fellow tried to raise himself, and groaned out
the words, "Bagh, bagh!"
"Ah!" cried Salaman, bending down over him.
"Quick! some cotton--some water," I said; "the poor fellow has been
attacked and mauled by a tiger."
"Bagh, bagh!" groaned the man again, and he struggled up now to rest
upon his shield-hand, gazing wildly round, and, shuddering before
seeming satisfied that the danger was passed, he raised his curved sword
and looked at it.
By this time one of the men had fetched some strips of cotton, and
another brought fresh water, a portion of which the fakir drank
heartily, but resented the attendant's action, as he sought to bathe his
face, but submitted willingly to having his arm washed and the wounds
tied up.
They proved to be only superficial; but, all the same, they were four
ugly scratches down the fleshy part of the man's left arm, while over
his right shoulder there were three more marks, which had bled pretty
freely; and now, as I stood by helpless myself, I listened as he told
the attendants how he was slowly journeying, thinking of staying by the
first well, as the sun was growing hot, the tiger suddenly sprang out at
him, alighting upon his back, and sending him down insensible. That he
had come to, struggled up, and was on his way again, sick, but eager to
get away from the edge of the forest, when the tiger had appeared again,
creeping from tuft of grass to bush, tracking him, he said, as a cat
does a mouse, and always threatening to spring.
For long enough this continued, till at last it sprang, after the poor
fellow had suffered that most intense agony of dread. As the tiger
sprang, he in turn had involuntarily crouched, holding the sword before
him, so that the savage beast leaped right upon it, as it struck him
down, deluging him with blood, and then uttering a snorting yell as it
bounded away again amongst the low growth of the forest-side.
He rose and continued his retreat, but the beast appeared again, still
skulking along near the track, and threatening to spring, but with a
rush back it had plunged into some dry grass; and had not reappeared as
he staggered on, faint with terror, till he had caught sight of one of
my attendants, and run on here, to fall completely exhausted.
They led the poor fellow away as, after seeing that he was out of
danger, I turned from him in disgust, and soon after was seated at my
morning meal.
"How is the old man?" I asked Salaman. "Have you given him a bath?"
"Oh no, my lord."
"A few chatties thrown over him ought to do him good."
"But he is a holy man, my lord. He would be ready to curse us, if we
did so. He has not washed for years."
"He looked it," I said. "But why?"
"Who knows, my lord? Perhaps he had sworn an oath. He is one of the
blessed."
"Will he go on to-day?"
"No, my lord. He will stay till he is strong enough to go. It is a
blessing on our camp for him to be here, and the tiger must have been
possessed of the evil spirit to dare to attack a fakir."
"Well, don't let him come near me," I said. "I believe that cleanliness
is next to godliness, Salaman. You are strange people: if I, a
Christian, drink out of one of your vessels, you would say it was
defiled, and break it. But you go and handle that nasty, dirty old man,
and say it is a blessing for him to come."
"Yes, my lord; he is a fakir."
"Very good," I said; "but, I repeat, don't let him come near me."
"He will not, my lord. We could not have it. He might curse my lord,
because he is an unbeliever."
"Well, never mind that," I said. "He knows no better. I trust he was
more frightened than hurt."
"Yes, my lord; but those are ugly wounds."
"Yes," I said. "But what would the rajah say at your having people so
near?"
"His highness may not know. He would be angry if he knew that the fakir
was here. But if he does know--well, it was fate."
"Will he come to-day?"
"Thy servant knoweth not. It would be better that he stayed till the
holy man has gone his way."