The morning broke, calm and beautiful. Long before the highest peaks of
the mountains blushed under the rosy light which preceded the sunrise,
the Khan and Fazil, with Zyna, had risen and performed their morning
prayer. The deep booming sound of the kettle-drums woke the echoes
around, and reverberated from side to side of the valley, retiring to
recesses among the glens, and murmuring softly as it died away among
the distant peaks and precipices. As yet, the valley was partially
filled with mists, which clung to its wooded sides; but as the sun
rose, a slight wind sprang up with it, which, breaking through these
mists, drove them up the mountain, and displayed the scenery in all its
fresh morning beauty, as though a curtain had been suddenly drawn from
before it.
Behind them were the stupendous mountains of the Maha-bul-eshwur range;
before, at a short distance, and divided from them by a chain of
smaller hills, rose up the precipices of Pertâbgurh, glittering in the
morning light, and crowned by the walls and bastions of the fortress.
Long before daylight the lady Lurlee had risen, and, careful for her
husband, had, in conjunction with Kurreema, cooked his favourite dish
of kichéri and kabobs. "It was a light breakfast," she said, "and would
agree with them better than a heavier repast, and dinner would be ready
when they returned." So Afzool Khan, his son, and the priest, ate their
early meal, not only in joyful anticipation of a speedy return, but of
accomplishing what would result in honour to all concerned.
They remembered afterwards, that as an attendant brought before the
Khan the usual mail shirt he wore, and the mail-cap, with its bright
steel chains, over which his turban was usually tied when fully
accoutred, he laughingly declined both. "They will be very hot and
uncomfortable," he said, "and we are not going to fight. No, give me a
muslin dress," which he put on. A few words about ordinary household
matters to Lurlee, a few cheering sentences to Zyna, as he passed from
the inner and private enclosure of the tent, and he went out among the
men.
Fazil followed, fully armed and accoutred for riding. There had been
a good-humoured strife between Fazil and the priest the night before,
as to who should be the one armed follower to accompany his father,
and he had chosen the priest. "Fazil was too young yet," he said, "to
enter into grave political discussions with wily Mahrattas, and would
be better with the escort." So the soldier-priest, like the Khan,
discarding the steel cap, gauntlets, and quilted armour in which he
usually accoutred himself--appeared, like Afzool Khan, in the plain
muslin dress of his order; and having tied up his waist with a shawl,
and thrown another over his shoulders, stuck a light court sword into
his waist-band, which he pressed down on his hips with a jaunty air,
and called merrily to Fazil, to see how peacefully he was attired.
The escort awaited them in the camp, and the spirited horses of fifteen
hundred gallant cavaliers were neighing and tossing their heads as
Afzool Khan, Fazil, and the priest rode up. "Forward!" cried the Khan
cheerily; and as the kettle-drums beat a march, the several officers
saluted their commander, and, wheeling up their men, led them by
the road pointed out by the Brahmuns and guides in the direction of
Pertâbgurh.
At that time, single men, who looked like shepherds tending sheep, and
who were standing on crests of the hills, or crouching so as not to
be seen, passed a signal that the Khan and his party had set out. It
was still early, and the time when, of all others perhaps, armies such
as the Khan's, were most defenceless. Many, roused for a while by the
assembly and departure of the escort, had gone to sleep again; others,
sitting over embers of fires, were smoking, preparing to cook their
morning repast, or were attending to their horses, or in the bazar
purchasing the materials for their day's meal. The camp was watched
from the woods around by thousands of armed men, who, silently and
utterly unobserved, crept over the crests of the hills, and lay down in
the thick brushwood which fringed the plain.
As the Khan's retinue neared the fort, parties of armed men, apparently
stationed by the roadside to salute him as he passed, closed up in rear
of the escort; and others, moving parallel to them in the thickets,
joined with them unseen. Quickly, too, men with axes felled large
trees, which were thrown down so as to cross the road, and interlaced
their branches so as to be utterly impassable for horsemen; and all
these preparations went on in both places silently, methodically, and
with a grim surety of success, imparting a confidence which all who
remembered it afterwards attributed to the direction of the goddess
whom they worshipped. As it was said then, as it is still said, and
sung in many a ballad, "not a man's hand failed, not a foot stumbled."
At the gate of the fort the Khan dismounted from his horse, and entered
his palankeen. Before he did so, however, he embraced his son, and bid
him be careful of the men, and that no one entered the town or gave
offence. He could see, looking up, the thatched pavilion on the little
level shoulder of the mountain, and pointed to it cheerfully. "It is
not far to go, Huzrut," he said to the Peer, "I may as well walk with
these good friends," and he pointed to the Brahmuns who attended him.
But Fazil would not allow it, nor the Peer either. "You must go in
state," they said, "as the representative of the King ought to do," and
he then took his seat in the litter.
"Khóda Hafiz--may God protect you, father!" said Fazil, as he bent
his head into the palankeen, when the bearers took it up; "come back
happily, and do not delay!"
"Inshalla!" said the Khan smilingly, "fear not, I will not delay,
and thou canst watch me up yonder." So he went on, the priest's hand
leaning upon the edge of the litter as he walked by its side.
On through the town, from the terraced houses of which, crowds of women
looked down on the little procession, and men, mostly unarmed, or
unremarkable in any case, saluted them, or regarded them with clownish
curiosity. No one could see that the court of every house behind, was
filled with armed men thirsting for blood, and awaiting the signal to
attack.
The Khan's agent, Puntojee Gopináth, being a fat man, had left word at
the gate which defended the entrance of the road to the fort, that he
had preceded the Khan, and would await him at the pavilion. He had seen
no one since the night before, and he knew only that the Khan would
come to meet the Rajah. That was all he had stipulated for, and his
part was performed. He believed that Sivaji would seize Afzool Khan,
and hold him a hostage for the fulfilment of all his demands; and the
line of argument in his own mind was, that if the Khan resisted, and
was hurt in the fray which might ensue, it was no concern of his. But
he did not know the Rajah's intention, nor did the Rajah's two Brahmuns
who had ascended with him; and they all three now sat down together
upon the knoll, waiting the coming of Afzool Khan from below, and the
Rajah from above.
As the agreement had specified, except one each, there were to be no
armed men: no other people were present but one, who seemed to be a
labourer, who was tying up a rough mat to the side of the pavilion
to keep out the wind and sun. Gopináth looked from time to time up
the mountain-road, and again down to the town, speculating upon the
cause of delay in the Rajah's coming; and the others told him he would
not leave the fort till the Khan had arrived below, and showed him a
figure standing upon the edge of the large bastion which overhung the
precipice above, relieved sharply against the clear sky, which was
fronting towards the quarter by which the Khan's retinue should come,
and apparently giving signals to others behind him.
"Your master is coming," said the Secretary, "they see him from
above;" and, almost as he spoke, the bright glinting of steel caps and
lance-heads, with a confused mass of horsemen, appeared on the road to
the fort, among the trees, and they sat and watched them come on. Then
the force halted in the open space before the outer gate, where the
Khan's little procession formed, and entered the town. After that, the
houses and the trees of the mountain-side concealed them. How beautiful
was the scene!
The wind had died away, and the sun shone with a blaze of heat unknown
elsewhere, striking down among those moist narrow valleys with a power
which would have been painful, but for the cool refreshing air by which
it was tempered. The distant mountains glowed under the effect of the
trembling exhalations, which, rising now unseen, tempered the colours
of the distance to that tender blue and grey which melts into the
tint of the sky. The rugged precipices above were softened in effect;
and the heavy masses of foliage, festoons of creepers, and the dense
woods, rich in colour, combined to enhance the wonderful beauty of
the spot. There was perfect silence, except the occasional monotonous
drumming notes of woodpeckers in the glens, and the shrill chirrup of
tree-crickets which occasionally broke out and was again silent.
In a few minutes, the shouts of the Khan's palankeen-bearers were heard
below, and the litter suddenly emerged from a turn in the road, being
pushed on by the combined efforts of the men. The Brahmun's heart
bounded when he saw the figure of the priest beside the litter, holding
to it, and pressing up the ascent vigorously. "Will he escape?" he said
mentally; "the Mother forbid it,--let her take him!" A few more steps,
and the palankeen was at the knoll; it was set down, and the Khan's
shoes being placed for him by a bearer, he put his feet into them and
got out, speaking to the priest, who was panting with his exertion.
"Is he not here, Puntojee?" cried the Khan to the Brahmun, who saluted
him respectfully.
"No, my lord, not yet. Ah! look," he continued, as he turned towards
the pass, "there are two men on the path, and that one, the smallest,
is he."
The men coming down appeared to hesitate, and waved their hands, as if
warning off some one.
"It is the bearers," said one of Sivaji's Secretaries. "The Rajah is
timid, and fears the crowd he sees."
The Khan laughed. "Good," he said to the men. "Go away; sit down yonder
in the shade. You will be called when I want you;" and as they got
up and retired, the two men advanced slowly and cautiously down the
pathway.
Afzool Khan went forward a few paces as Sivaji and Maloosray came up.
"You are welcome, Rajah Sahib. Embrace me," he said to Sivaji. "Let
there be no doubt between us;" and he stretched forth his arms in the
usual manner.
Sivaji stooped to the embrace; and as the Khan's arms were laid upon
his shoulders, and he was thus unprotected, struck the sharp deadly
tiger's-claw dagger deeply into his bowels, seconding the blow with one
from the other dagger which he had concealed in his left hand.
Afzool Khan reeled and staggered under the deadly wounds. "Dog of a
Kafir!" he cried, pressing one hand to the wound, while he drew the
sword he wore with the other, and endeavoured to attack the Rajah.
Alas! what use now were those feeble blows against concealed armour?
Faint and sick, the Khan reeled hither and thither, striking vainly
against the Rajah, who, with the terrible sword now in his hand, and
crying the national shout of "Hur, Hur, Mahadeo!" rained blow upon blow
on his defenceless enemy. It was an unequal strife, soon finished.
Falling heavily, Afzool Khan died almost as he reached the earth.
Meanwhile, Maloosray had attacked the priest with all his force and
skill, but the Peer was a good swordsman, and for a short time held his
ground. Neither spoke, except in muttered curses, as blows were struck;
but Tannajee Maloosray had no equal in his weapon, and as he cried to
the Rajah, who was advancing to his aid, to keep back--the priest,
distracted by the assault of another enemy, received his death-blow,
and sank to the ground.
"Jey Kalee!" shouted both. "Now, blow loud and shrill, Gunnoo, for thy
life," continued the Rajah, "and thou shalt have a collar of gold."
The man who had appeared to be a labourer, seized his horn, which
had been concealed in the grass, and blew a long note, with a shrill
quivering flourish at the close, which resounded through the air, and
echoed among the mountains; and thrice repeated the signal.
Then a great puff of smoke, followed by a report which thundered
through the valley, burst from the bastion above. Those who were
looking from the fort, and the Rajah himself, who ran to the edge of
the knoll, saw the wreaths of fire which burst from the thickets about
the plain where the Mahomedan cavalry stood, and a sharp irregular
crash of matchlock shots came up from below, and continued. Hundreds
died at every volley, and there were writhing, struggling masses
of horses and men on the plain--loose horses careering about; and
some men still mounted, strove to pierce the barriers which had been
made on every side, crowded on each other, and, falling fast, became
inextricable. Soon, too, the Mawullees, under Nettajee Palkur, emerged
sword in hand from their ambush, and attacked those who survived. Some
escaped; but of the fifteen hundred men who had ridden there in their
pride that morning, few lived to tell the tale.
* * * * *
Moro Trimmul had taken up his position over night on a hill overlooking
the main camp of Afzool Khan's army. A few boughs placed together
formed a cover and screen on a high knoll, which commanded a view of
the camp beneath, and of the summit of the fort whence his signal was
to come. He sat there watching, and observed the force below, careless,
without a guard, without weapons--the men sitting idly, wandering
about, or cooking, as it might be. Every moment seemed interminable;
and the eyes of those who looked with him were strained towards the
fort.
"One," he cried at last, as the first puff of bright smoke burst from
the bastion--"two--three--four--five! Enough. It is complete, my
friends. Now, cry 'Hur, Hur, Mahadeo!' and upon them. Spare no one!
Come, friends, let us sack the Khan's tents first, where I have some
work of my own to do."
"Beware," said an elderly officer, who stood near him--"beware, Moro
Pundit, of the master, if thou disobey him in this. He will suffer no
insult to the women."
"Tooh!" cried Moro Trimmul, spitting contemptuously, "I am a Brahmun,
and he dare not interfere with me. Come!"
Ten thousand throats were crying the battle-cry of the Hetkurees, as
they burst from the thickets upon the bewildered army. Why follow them?
In a few hours there was a smell of blood ascending to the sky, and
vultures--scenting it from their resting-places on the precipices of
the mountains, and from their soaring stations in the clouds--were fast
descending upon the plain in hideous flocks.
Shortly after the Khan had left--he could scarcely have reached the
fort--two figures, a man and a boy, ran rapidly across the camp at
their utmost speed towards the Khan's tents--they were the hunchback
and Ashruf. When Fazil had dismissed them, the night before, they
had taken the road to Wye; and immediately beyond the confines of
the camp, where the road ascended a rocky pass, had been seized by
the Mahratta pickets posted there. In vain they urged they were but
Dekhan ballad-singers; they were not released. "Ye shall sing for us
to-morrow," they said, "when we have made the sacrifice, the ballads of
the goddess at Tooljapoor;" and, bound together, they lay by the tree
where the party of men was stationed. There they heard all, but were
helpless.
"Ah, masters," said Lukshmun, as daylight broke, "unbind us; we are
stiff with the cold; we will not run away; and I will sing you the
morning hymn of the goddess, as the Brahmuns sing it at Tooljapoor.
See, my arms are swelled, and the boy's too."
"Loose him, brother," said one of the men, "we shall soon now have the
signal. Wait you here," he added, as Lukshmun finished the chant, "and
we will fill your pouches with Beejapoor rupees when we come back."
"Alas!" said the hunchback, with a rueful face, "this little brother
came from Wye last night, to say my elder brother, Rama, was dead. Good
sirs, let me go and bury him," and he began to sob bitterly.
"Let them go, Nowla," said another of the men; "they will be only in
our way; we can't stop to guard them."
"My blessings on ye, gentlemen! Only let us go now, and we will come
to you and sing congratulations when you have won the victory," said
Lukshmun humbly.
"Go," said the men, "but do not return to camp, else we will slay you
if we see you there."
"They will die, or worse," said the hunchback, whispering to Ashruf,
"for Moro Trimmul is the leader here. Come, let us save the Khan's wife
and the lady Zyna," and they turned into the jungle in the direction of
the camp.
The boy was bold and quick-witted. As they ran on, "I can get into the
zenana," he said, "under the tent wall, and perhaps we can make them
change clothes, and fly--but if they stay?"
"I will get the ponies ready," replied the other, and they ran the
faster over the plain, unperceived.
They reached the tents, and the boy entered as he said. Who would
believe them? Zyna heard the tale with sickening dread, and Lurlee,
assured by the others, at first disbelieved him, and threatened him
with stripes. The women-servants crowded around, and some began to
shriek, and were with difficulty pacified; others mocked him and turned
away. Still the boy urged: and the hunchback, desperate, and dreading
the delay, now found his way into the enclosure, and prostrated himself
before them.
"I know the country," he said: "fly! take what jewels you can carry,
and come. God be with them, lady!" he continued, as Zyna and Lurlee
cried aloud for their husband and brother--"God be with them! they are
mounted and will escape, and we may yet meet; but stay not here, else
ye will die, or be dishonoured, and the Khan will kill me."
Then another voice was heard without, shouting. It was Shêre Khan, who
had been left in charge of the private camp. "Go!" he cried, "I see men
moving in the woods, and there is confusion and treachery." And others
said the same. Then, too, they heard the five guns of the fort, and
there broke from the mountains around a hoarse roar of voices, "Hur,
Hur, Mahadeo!"
This decided them. A hurried change of clothes, some coarse garments
thrown over them, and the ponies being led within the enclosure, the
ladies were lifted on them and carried out. O, to see the stupid misery
of those women! Hitherto secluded, they could understand nothing;
they had no power to resist; and why they should be taken out among
men, when the shouts and screams of the camp were growing wilder
every moment, they could not understand. So they wrung their hands in
speechless terror.
"Come with the ladies, Shêre Khan," cried Lukshmun; "come, save
thyself, old man!"
"No," he replied sadly; "my time is come, and the sherbet of death will
be sweet. Go thou, and all of ye who can," he added to those who had
gathered with the women. "Quick! quick! else it will be too late."
The shouts of "Hur, Hur, Mahadeo!" were already mingling on the
confines of the camp with the battle-cries of the Moslems, who had
rallied in small parties, and the flood of attack was there stayed
for a little: this saved the fugitives. Close by the enclosure of
tent walls ran the rivulet, and its banks were high and covered with
brushwood on the sides, which concealed the party. Lukshmun, with a
true freebooter's instinct, led Zyna's pony down the bank, accompanied
by some of the terrified women-servants, and Lurlee followed. So
they proceeded at a rapid pace down the stream, meeting no one, and
concealed from view.
They heard the hideous din of shouts, screams, and shots increase
behind them, but it gradually softened with distance, and in a little
time Lukshmun turned up the sandy bed of a tributary brook, on the
sides of which the jungle was thicker, while the bed was narrower and
more tortuous; and, bidding every one tread only in the shallow stream
which flowed in the midst, in order to afford no traces of footsteps,
he hurried on, still leading Zyna's pony by the bridle. "Fear not,
lady," he said confidently,--"the worst is past, and God will be
merciful; fear not."
In the camp there was but a short resistance. On the one hand, the
desperate valour of the mountain soldiery, the certainty of plunder,
revenge for Tooljapoor, and the example of Moro Trimmul and other
leaders; and on the other, the helpless, disorganized, bewildered mass
before them, rendered the assault irresistible. The first attacking
bodies were succeeded by mass upon mass of fresh assailants from all
quarters, and these successive tides of men surged resistlessly across
the camp, overwhelming all.
When Moro Trimmul and his party reached the Khan's tents, they found
no one. The tracks of the ponies, where they had descended the bank,
were, however, visible, and were taken up by his followers, who dashed
forward like bloodhounds on a scent. "Away after them, Kakrey!" cried
the Brahmun to a subordinate officer. "Thou art a better tracker than
I. Bring them to me,--then," he added to himself, "Fazil Khan, we will
see who wins the game,--you or I."