to Government House I was told that Macpherson was ill, and that I must
travel up at full speed to relieve him, so I started next morning and
travelled as fast as horses could take me up the country. I have been
here for more than three weeks. I have not forgotten you, and as soon
as I arrived here I sent off a _chit_ to your uncle to tell him that you
had landed at Calcutta, and would probably be here in the course of a
fortnight or three weeks. Two days ago one of his native officers with
an escort of sixteen men turned up here. They are encamped on the plain
over there. You will know the tent by a blue flag flying before it.
"I told your uncle that I had made your acquaintance on board the ship,
and that I thought he would be very well pleased with you. I did not
tell him anything about your having picked up so much Punjaubi, but left
it for you to give him a pleasant surprise. Of course you will put up
here for to-night. I shall be knocking off work in a quarter of an
hour, and in the meantime you may as well go and have your bath, after
which you will feel more comfortable. I will send a man across to your
fellows to tell them you have arrived, and will be ready to start in the
morning. By the way, I think it would be as well if you went over there
at once; it would please them, and there is nothing like making a good
impression. My buggy will be at the door in ten minutes, and I will
drive you out there. So you had better have a preliminary wash now, and
can take your bath after we get back."
Touching the bell a servant entered. Mr. Fullarton gave him orders to
take Percy to a room, to have what boxes he required carried up there,
and to pile the rest in the hall. By the time Percy had got rid of some
of the dust of travel, and changed his travelling suit for another, the
Resident was ready, and they were soon driving over the sandy plain in a
light trap drawn by a wiry-looking native pony. In a few minutes they
reached a small tent, before which waved a blue flag. As they
approached a stir was seen. A native officer ran out of the tent,
ranged his men in military order, and placing himself in front of them
saluted as the Resident drove up.
"Good afternoon, Nand Chund; I have brought the colonel's nephew over to
see you. He has just arrived, and will be ready to start with you
to-morrow, but even before eating he wished to see the officer whom his
uncle had chosen as his escort."
The Sikh raised his hand to his cap in salute to Percy, and said in his
native tongue: "All happiness to the nephew of my good lord!"
"Thank you, Nand Chund," Percy replied in the same tongue, "I am sure
that you must be an officer in whom my uncle has great trust and
confidence or he would not have chosen you for such a mission."
The Sikh looked greatly surprised at being thus answered in his own
language.
"I did not know," he said, "that the young sahib had acquired our
tongue. My lord told me you would not understand me, and that I should
have to explain to you by signs anything that it was necessary for you
to know."
"I speak your language but poorly at present, but I hope to do so well
before I have been long with you," Percy answered. "My uncle was well, I
hope, when you left him?"
"He was well, sahib; though much troubled by the machinations of
powerful ones who are his enemies; but his heart was light at the news
that you would soon be with him."
After a little further conversation Percy drove off with Mr. Fullarton,
after having, at a hint from the latter, handed to the officer twenty
rupees, to be laid out in providing a feast for the troopers.
"They will all be as drunk as hogs to-night," Mr. Fullarton said; "the
Sikhs are one of the few races in India who drink to excess. They do so
from the highest to the lowest. The Old Lion himself used to be drunk
every night. However, as they will have a good meal before setting-to
at the liquor, you will see that they will all be as fresh and bright in
the morning as if they had touched nothing stronger than tea. They have
wonderful constitutions, and after a few hours' sleep shake off the
effects of a carouse that would make an Englishman ill for three or four
days."
After an hour's drive they returned to the Residency. As they entered
the house Percy was greeted by his former instructor, who had been out
when he first arrived, and who now conducted him to his room.
"It is far better here than on board the ship, sahib," he said. "There
Ram Singh was of no account, even the common sailors pushed and jostled
him; here he is Fullarton Sahib's butler, and gives orders to all the
servants."
"No doubt you feel it in that way," Percy laughed. "I feel it is better
because here is a great cool room and quiet, and a bath ready for me
without having to wait for an hour for my turn. It is certainly very
much more comfortable, but there are drawbacks too. There was no dust
on board ship, no occasion for an armed guard, no fear of disturbance or
troubles."
"That is so, sahib; but what would life be worth if sometimes we did not
have a change and adventure. As I have told you, I have had my share of
it, and now I am well content to be the head servant of the Burra-sahib.
But my lord is young, and it is well for him that he should learn to
bear himself as a man, and to face danger."
"Well, it may be so, Ram Singh, but just at present it seems to me that
I should prefer a peaceful life for a few years."
"The sooner a cockerel learns to use his spurs, the better fighting bird
he will turn out," the man said sententiously.
"Yes, that is all very well," Percy replied. "But if he gets badly
mauled when he is a cockerel he is likely to shirk fighting afterwards."
After taking his bath and dressing himself in a suit of white linen
Percy went down to dinner. He was pleased to find himself alone with
Mr. Fullarton, who in the course of the evening told him much more than
he had hitherto known of the state of affairs in the Punjaub.
"Things look very bad," he said. "But it is possible that they may go
on for months and even years before the crisis comes. As to this,
however, your uncle will be able to tell you more than I can. Mine is,
of course, the official view of matters, gleaned from the reports of men
in our pay at Lahore and other places in the Punjaub. The reports of
such men, however, are always open to grave suspicion. As they take
bribes from us they may take bribes from others, or may be are in some
way interested in deceiving us. Your uncle will doubtless be much
better informed. Although he has taken no active part in the plots and
conspiracies that have been continually going on ever since the death of
Runjeet Singh, he must have been more or less behind the scenes
throughout, and will certainly have tried and trusted agents at Lahore.
"At present you are only interested in these matters as far as they
concern the safety of your uncle and yourself. Still it is always
useful in a country like this to have an insight into what is going on
around you. Should there be trouble, remember that the Sikhs value
courage, quickness, and decision above all things. I am not supposing
for a moment that you are likely to show the white-feather, still you
may be involved in danger that would shake the nerves of hardened men.
The thing to remember is always to assume an air of courage and
coolness. To show weakness would forfeit the respect of your own
people, and would in no way alter the fate that would befall you if you
fell into the hands of your foes. You know the old saying--'Assume a
virtue if you have it not.' That you should be alarmed in such a
position would be only natural, but you must if possible conceal the
fact, and must nerve yourself to put on as great an air of coolness and
indifference as you can muster. Remember there are very few men who do
not feel horribly uncomfortable when exposed to great dangers, and that
bravery exists not so much in having no feeling of fear as of concealing
all expression of it.
"When you hear a man boasting that he has never felt fear, and that he
enjoys being under fire, take my word for it he is a liar. In the heat
of battle, and especially in the excitement of a cavalry charge, the
sensation of fear is lost; but in the preliminary stage I never knew a
man yet who, speaking honestly, would not confess that he felt horribly
nervous. I will not keep you up any longer, you have had a long journey
to-day and must be early in bed. You will be called before daybreak,
for you may be sure your men will be here before the sun is up, and they
will be gratified to find that you are prepared to be off. I need not
repeat now what I told you on board the ship, that should you have to
fly for your life you will meet with a warm welcome here."
It was still dark when Percy was aroused by Ram Singh.
"It is time to get up, sahib. I have water boiling, and there will be a
cup of tea ready for you as soon as you have had your bath. The bheesti
is outside with the water-skin."
"All right!" Percy said, jumping out of bed. "Send him in."
Taking a bath consisted of squatting down in the corner of the room,
where the floor was made to slope to a hole which carried off the water
poured from a skin over the head of the bather. As he dressed, Percy
drank a cup of tea and ate a couple of biscuits, while Ram Singh packed
up his trunk again. He had just finished when he heard the trampling of
horses. He at once went out.
"You are in good time, Nand Chund."
"It would not have done to have kept the sahib waiting," the Sikh said,
"though we scarce expected to find him ready for us so soon."
He then ordered the baggage-horses to be brought up, and four strong
ponies were led forward. Percy's trunks, which had all been made of a
size suited to such transport, were firmly lashed one on each side of
each saddle. When this was done a handsome horse was brought forward
for Percy. He was about to turn to enter the house to say good-bye to
Mr. Fullarton, who had the night before told him he should be up before
he started, when the Resident made his appearance.
"I always rise before the sun," he said, "and take a drive or a ride,
and am back before it gets too hot for pleasure. Then I have a bath,
change of clothes, and am ready for my work. Early morning and evening
are the only times that life is enjoyable here, and unless one takes
exercise then one cannot expect to keep in health. Good-bye, Groves.
Tell your uncle to keep me informed of what is going on whenever he gets
an opportunity. Take care of yourself, and, whatever comes, keep your
head clear and your wits sharpened. Many a life is thrown away from
want of prompt decision at a critical moment."
Percy shook hands with his kind friend, and then leapt into the saddle
without putting his foot into the stirrup, a trick he had learned at the
riding-school. A murmur of approval ran through the men, who muttered
to themselves, "He understands a horse; a brisk young fellow, he will do
no discredit to our lord." Then he took his place by the side of Nand
Chund, waved his hand to Mr. Fullarton, and started. His companion at
once put his horse to a hand-gallop.
"Surely you do not mean to travel far at this speed?" Percy said. "The
pack-animals will not be able to keep up with us."
"They will follow, sahib. You see I have left four men in charge of
them."
"Yes, and you have eight men here. Where are the other four, for I
counted sixteen yesterday?"
"They started before dark, sahib, with the four other baggage animals.
Two of them we shall find when we halt for food, when the sun gets high.
They will have pitched a tent in the shade of some tree, and will have
the meal cooked in readiness for us. The other two will have gone
forward to the point where we shall rest for the night. They have
another tent, and will have the evening meal in readiness. So it will
be each day. They will travel by night, we by day. At the end of three
days we shall have reached a point where care will be a necessity, and
will then travel in a body."
"But from whom have we reason to fear danger?" Percy asked.
"We do not fear danger," the Sikh replied, "but we prepare to meet it.
In the first place there are robbers--bands of men who acknowledge no
master, such as deserters from the army, fugitives who have excited the
enmity of some powerful chief, and criminals who have escaped justice.
Such men form bands, rob villages, plunder well-to-do peasants, and
waylay, rob, and murder travellers. These are the ordinary foes; all
those who journey have to prepare for them, and they are not really
dangerous to a well-armed party. Then, again, there are the bands by
profession robbers, but who are for the time hired by some powerful or
wealthy sirdar who wishes to gratify a private spite. Openly perhaps he
would not dare to move, and he therefore remains in the background, and
hires bands of robbers to do his business. Such bands are far more
formidable than those composed of ordinary marauders, for they are of a
strength proportioned to the object they have to accomplish, and may
even number hundreds.
"It is these against whom we have to take precautions. My lord your
uncle has powerful enemies, and these doubtless employ spies, and are
made aware of all that passes in his stronghold. Should they have
learned that he was expecting your arrival, they would of course see
that your capture would be a valuable one, as they could work on him
through you. At any rate the departure of my band is sure to be
noticed, and though we travelled by a circuitous route we may probably
have been tracked to Loodiana. Besides, they might think that I had
some important mission to the British Resident there, and that I may be
the bearer of some letter that might enable them to work my master's
ruin, and so will spare no pains to wrest it from me.
"For the first three days we do not follow the route leading to my
lord's stronghold, consequently there is little fear of an ambush; but
during the last five days of the journey, when we are making for the
fortress, we shall have to sleep with one eye open, to travel by
unfrequented roads, and for the most part by night. The colonel would
have come himself to meet you, but in the first place his visit to
Loodiana would be seized upon by his enemies as a proof that he was
leagued with the British, and in the second his presence is required in
the castle, where, so long as he is present, there is little fear of any
sudden surprise or attack, but were he away some traitor might corrupt a
guard or open a gate, and thus let in the troops of an enemy."
"But there is no civil war, Nand Chund. How then could a chief venture
to attack my uncle?"
"There is no war," the Sikh repeated, "but the sirdars never hesitate to
collect their followers and attack a rival when they have a chance.
Even in the days of Runjeet Singh this was so; for although his hand was
a heavy one, it was easy to bribe those about him to place the matter in
a favourable light, and a handsome present would do the rest. But since
the Lion has passed away there has been no power in the land. The
government has been feeble, and the great sirdars have done as it
pleases them, so there is everywhere rapine and confusion. Those who are
strong take from those who are weak; the traders who prospered and grew
rich in the old days now fly the land or bury their wealth, and assume
the appearance of poverty; the markets are deserted, and towns
flourishing under Runjeet are now well-nigh deserted."
"But why have they a special animosity against my uncle?"
"First because he is a European, secondly because he is wealthy, thirdly
because those who fly from the extortion or the tyranny of others find a
refuge with him, lastly because the district under his charge is
flourishing and prosperous while others are impoverished. Merchants
elsewhere clamour for the rights that he gives those under his
protection, and for taxes as light as those imposed by him in his
district."
"But I thought that all Europeans had been deprived of commands," Percy
said.
"That is true, but in this country a man only surrenders a profitable
post when he can no longer hold it. Even Runjeet Singh's orders to
governors to surrender their posts to others were often disobeyed, and
he was obliged to march armies to enforce them. It is far more so now.
Three years ago my lord was nominally deprived of his command of the
district as well as that of his troops by the orders of the court at
Lahore, but he was too wise to obey. Had he opened the gates he would
assuredly have been taken a prisoner to Lahore, and there have been put
to death; so he held on, and none have cared to undertake the work of
turning him out.
"Still the man appointed as his successor is, we may be sure, only
waiting his opportunity. He belongs to the family of one of the most
powerful of the princes--one who could put ten thousand men in the
field; but the colonel has nearly two thousand good soldiers, and such
strong walls that with these he could repulse an open attack by three
times that number. Besides this all the district is in his favour. They
dread nothing so much as that another should take his place, and the
news that an army was advancing would at once swell his force by three
thousand fighting men. Moreover, he has allies among the hill tribes
who have never, save under the pressure of force, acknowledged the
authority of Lahore. It is not until his rival's relations have made
some compact with another sirdar equally powerful that they are likely
to attack us openly.
"Treachery, however, is always to be feared, and still more the knife of
the assassin. We believe that the soldiers can be trusted to a man; but
who can tell? Gold is very powerful, and among two thousand there must
be some who would sell their dearest friend were the bribe sufficiently
large."
"But they say that the power of the nobles is broken, and that it is the
army that is master," Percy remarked.
"That is so. The soldiers are the lords of the Punjaub. Runjeet Singh's
policy was to strengthen the army, which under its foreign officers was
always faithful to him. After his death there was no strong hand, and
the force which the Old Lion had trained to conquer his foes turned upon
the country and became its master. They clamoured for the dismissal of
all foreign officers, for increase of pay, for the right to choose their
own leaders, and all these things they obtained. There is no longer
discipline or order. They oppress the people, they dictate terms to the
court, they can make or unmake maharajahs. If at present they are
quiet, it is because they have everything they can ask for. Thus then
there is no one to control the sirdars, who can do as it pleases them,
if only they keep on good terms with the leaders of the army. That would
matter but little, but when they wish to attack each other they have but
to buy the services of a regiment or two and the thing is done. There
lies the danger of our lord.
"Those most hostile to him would not dare to attack with their own
followers, but they will sooner or later obtain the assistance of some
of the military chiefs; the more so that these are hostile themselves to
our lord because he is a foreigner, and at present the cry is, death to
the foreigner. It is only because the colonel had so good a name in the
army,--for all knew that although nowhere was discipline more strict, he
was always just and kindly, that no man was punished without cause, that
he had no favourites, that he oppressed none, and used all the influence
he possessed with the old maharajah to obtain the pay for his men
regularly,--that the military chiefs have so far failed to get the
soldiers to consent to any movement against him.
"Besides, the troops are aware that he is a brave leader, and know that
his men will die in his defence. Therefore, it would need a higher
bribe than usual to induce them to risk their lives in a struggle from
which they would gain nothing. It is far easier to revolt for extra pay
than to obtain the money by an attack on the colonel's fortress. Thus,
for aught we know, it may be years before serious trouble comes. It
will depend upon what events occur. At present the soldiers are well
content to do nothing but eat and drink at the expense of the people.
In time they will become restless, and then, who knows, they may attack
and plunder the strong places, or they may make war upon the English.
They believe that they are invincible. They have an immense number of
guns, and they think that because the Sikhs have conquered Cashmere and
wrested territory from the Afghans, and hold all the country north of
the Sutlej, nothing can withstand them. I know nothing, I am but an
ignorant man as to all things outside our country; but I know that the
English conquered Scinde although its sirdars and soldiers were many and
brave, that they made themselves masters of Afghanistan, and even after
their great misfortune there came back and again took Cabul and punished
the Afghans; and I say to myself, Why should the Sikhs want to fight
this people, who do not interfere with them, and who have always
respected the treaties they have made with us?
"The Old Lion, who feared no one and who spread his rule far and wide,
always kept friends with the English, although most of his chiefs would
have taken advantage of their trouble in Afghanistan to go to war with
them. He knew the power of the foreigners, and was always ready to
engage white officers to teach his soldiers. He had a wiser head than
any of the soldiers who are now ready to raise the cry of war with the
English; and I know our lord's opinion is, that should we engage in a
struggle with his people we shall assuredly be beaten. But what avail
are these things with men puffed up with pride, and with the belief that
they are invincible. It is certain that some day or other the army will
clamour for war with the English, and who is there to say them nay? Not
the boy, Maharajah Dhuleep Singh, nor the Ranee, his mother and
guardian. Then we shall see how things will go."
"There is no doubt how things will go," Percy said. "The English will
conquer the country, as they have all the other parts of India that have
tried their strength with them."
"They have never fought a country like ours," the officer said a little
proudly. "The army is a hundred and fifty thousand strong, and the
chiefs must all join, so there will be two hundred thousand at least,
and all good fighting men. They are well armed and have vast stores of
guns and ammunition; they have been taught to fight in European fashion.
We are told that if all the British troops in India came against them
they would number scarce fifty thousand."
"That may be," Percy agreed, "but they would win--they always have won,
and often against odds quite as great. Besides, when your two hundred
thousand men are in the field you would have your whole fighting power,
while if it were necessary England could send out army after army as
strong as that now in India. How far is it to our first halting-place?
The sun is beginning to get very hot."
"It is three hours' ride from Loodiana. Going at an easy pace we shall
be there in another hour."
Percy was heartily glad when his companion pointed out a yellow speck
under a clump of trees and told him it was the tent. "I brought with us
only small tents, such as the soldiers use on their expeditions," he
said, "so as to excite the less attention; they are mere shelters from
the sun and night air."
"That is all we want, Nand Chund."
"They weigh only a few pounds, sahib, and can be carried by a horseman
in addition to his ordinary baggage. We have three or four of them with
us, so that we can at any time pitch one should we arrive at a
halting-place before the baggage animals."
A quarter of an hour later Percy was lying under the shade of the tent,
the sides of which were tied up to permit the air to pass freely
through. In a short time tiffin was served, consisting of an excellent
pillau of fowl, a dish of meat prepared with savoury condiments,
followed by an assortment of delicious fruit. The drink consisted of
water cooled in a porous jar, flavoured with the juice of a slightly
acid fruit.
"I would have brought wine," the officer said apologetically, "but my
lord your uncle said that you would not be accustomed to it, and that,
riding in the sun, it was better you should take only cooling liquors.
He has sent, however, a tin filled with an herb that with hot water
makes a drink of which he is very fond; it is sent up to him in a chest
from Calcutta. He said you would know what to do with it. He calls it
tea."