The effect of his mere name upon his prisoner answered the robber
chief's own question, nor had the latter any reason to feel disappointed
over the method of its reception. The wretched trader's countenance
became ghastly, and his mouth fell open, while the perspiration oozed
from him at every pore. He would about as soon have fallen into the
power of the Enemy of mankind.
"Mercy, Sirdar Sahib. Take what I have and suffer me to depart," was
all he could articulate, slobberingly.
Murad Afzul laughed, and a harsh evil laugh it was. He was a
fine-looking man, tall and with good features, which would have been
pleasing, but for the quick, predatory look, and the savage scowl which
would cloud them upon very slight provocation.
"Tell me, fat dog," he said. "Canst thou name one of thy sort who fell
into my hands and came forth again?"
The trader fairly howled with terror, for this was just where his
position came home to him. If there was one thing for which this Murad
Afzul and his band were known and dreaded, it was for their absolute
mercilessness. Mere death was the greatest mercy their victims could
expect. True, there were some who had come forth alive, but so
hideously maimed and shattered that they had better have been dead, and
with awful tales to tell of torture and horror either witnessed or
undergone. Indeed, such a scourge had these freebooters become, that
strong pressure was brought to bear upon the chief of the Gularzai, and
in the result these outrages had ceased, in recognition of which prompt
compliance Mahomed Mushim Khan had been invested by the Indian
Government with the title of Nawab--somewhat to the contempt of these
fierce mountaineers, as we heard them express it.
With all of this was the unfortunate Hindu so well acquainted that he
would never have dreamed of trusting his person or possessions in these
mountain solitudes, but that he, like others, was under the impression
that Murad Afzul had taken himself and his depredations clean away to
the territory of some other potentate, and the possibility of that
redoubted outlaw taking advantage of the advent of a new Political Agent
to break out afresh had escaped him altogether.
Now, under the direction of their chief, the freebooters were rifling
the packs--and at first found not much in them, for they were for the
most part stuffed out with dummy matter, to convey the idea that their
owner had done so bad a trade as not to be worth plundering. But
everything that could possibly conceal a coin was promptly laid open by
the expeditious process of a blow with a stone hammer or the slash of a
tulwar, and soon a goodly pile of rupees lay heaped up ready for
division. Murad Afzul grinned with delight.
"God is good," he said, rubbing his hands. "The spoils of the infidel
hath he delivered to the true believer. Yet, O fat pig, it is not
enough. Ha! not enough."
"Not enough? But it is my all, Sirdar Sahib; yea, my all," groaned the
trader.
"Wah-wah! but I am poor, and have not the wherewith to start life
afresh."
"It is not enough," repeated the other, the glitter of his eyes and the
fell meaning of his tone becoming terrible in its significance. "Ten
thousand rupees must be added to it."
"Ten thousand! How can I find such a sum, Sirdar Sahib, I who am but a
poor man? I have not a tenth of it."
"Now art thou blowing up the fire which shall consume thine own limbs,
yet slowly, thou foul dog. Wait. Thou shalt taste how it feels."
At a signal the prisoner was seized and bound. The while, others were
heating an old gun-barrel in a fire which had been kindled when they
first halted. Then they brought it towards him. At the sight the
miserable wretch uttered a loud scream of terror and despair.
"Squeal louder, pig," jeered Murad Afzul. "There is none to hear thee
save these rocks, and they are accustomed to such sounds. Ha! ha!"
The miserable man struggled frantically, promising to pay anything if
they would refrain from torturing him. But the lust of cruelty, now
awakened in those ferocious natures, would not be allayed, and the hot
iron was laid hissing to the thigh of their victim, whose frenzied and
agonising yells rang in deafening and fiend-like echoes from the
surrounding rocks, grim and pitiless as though rejoicing in the act of
savagery upon which they glared down. Then Murad Afzul, too experienced
in such matters to prolong the agony unduly, made a sign that it should
cease.
"How likest thou that, pig?" he said. "Did not thy fat frizzle? I have
a mind to send a slice of it to the swine-eating Feringhi at Mazaran.
Did it hurt, the kiss of the hot iron? Yet that was but the beginning.
How would it feel lasting the whole day. Think, for thou wilt now have
a little time."
It was the hour of prayer, and now the whole band, with their shoes off,
and their chuddas spread on the ground, facing in the direction of
Mecca, were going through the prescribed prostrations and formulae of
the Moslem ritual. Ibrahim the _mullah_, a little in front of the rest:
led the devotions, intoning each strophe in a nasal, droning key, the
others ranged behind him in rows, now kneeling, now rising, responded
somewhat after the manner of the recital of a litany, but perhaps, to an
outside observer, the absolute and wholehearted devoutness of their
demeanour would have constituted the strangest part of it. Not a shadow
of compunction had they for the hideous act of barbarity in which they
had a moment ago indulged, and which they would almost certainly repeat.
Why should they, indeed? What was the agony of an infidel dog more or
less to them or to Heaven? Why, the very cries of such must be as music
in the ears of the latter. So they continued laying this brick in the
edifice of their salvation; and, having concluded, resumed their shoes
and turned their attention once more to their victim.
The latter, the while, had been thinking if haply some hope of rescue
might not occur to him. The Sahib had known of his presence, for he
himself had given him permission to travel under his protection. Would
he not miss him, and, as a consequence, order a body of men to ride back
to his rescue? These would assuredly come upon the scene of his capture
and follow upon his tracks. But--would they? The Levy Sowars were
drawn from the same region and were of the same faith as his captors, of
whom they would know the strength and resource, and with whom they would
certainly avoid engaging in a fight on behalf of such as he. Besides--
and again Chand Lall had reason to curse his own stinginess, in that he
had been more than "near" in bestowing the expected _dasturi_ upon the
Sahib's chuprassis, wherefore these would infallibly take care that no
suspicion of his disaster should reach their master's ears. Further,
was it not a matter of absolute certainty that, rather than allow his
rescue, Murad Afzul would give orders for his throat to be cut from ear
to ear? No, there was no hope--not a ray.
"Talk we again of the rupees," began Murad Afzul. "I am moved to
require double the amount now, but Allah is merciful, and shall I be
less so? I will be content with ten thousand. Wherefore, O dog, thou
shalt write and deliver to Ibrahim, our brother--who is holy and
learned--a letter which shall cause those who guard the fruits of thine
avarice and usury, to pay over to him that sum. Yet think not to write
aught that shall render this void, for Ibrahim is learned as well as
holy, and can read in many tongues. Further, should he not return to
us, thine own fate shall be even as though thou wert already writhing in
the lowest depths of Jehanum."
"It were better, Sirdar Sahib, that I myself travelled to Mazaran to
procure it, for our people are distrustful of strangers." Murad Afzul
laughed evilly. "But we are doubly so, O worshipper of debauched
idols," he said. "So thou wouldst fain fare forth thyself? Ha, ha,
then how long would it be before we beheld thee again, or one single one
of the ten thousand rupees?"
"Why, as soon as I could collect them, and to do that I would spare no
pains, no trouble, Sirdar Sahib, although it would leave me a poor man,
and in debt for life," replied Chand Lall, eagerly thinking, poor fool,
that his jailor was going to set him free on so slender a security as
his bare word. But the shout of laughter that went up from all who
heard quickly undeceived him.
"Who having a caged bird of value turns that bird loose to stretch his
wings in the hope that it will return to its cage?" said the chief.
"Thou art to us a caged bird of value, thou eater of money--wherefore we
keep thee until thou hast no further value. Show him," he added,
turning to his followers.
In obedience to this somewhat mysterious mandate one of them turned and
dived into a cleft, producing therefrom an object which he gleefully
unrolled, and held up before the gaze of the horrified captive--and
well, indeed, might the latter quake, for it was the skin of a man.
It had been most deftly taken off. Face, head, ears--everything in
fact. Staring at the horrid thing, Chand Lall felt his very marrow melt
within him.
"See," said Murad Afzul. "He did not die, even then. He lived to taste
of fire and boiling ghee." And the rest of the band laughed like
fiends, but the wretched Hindu covered his face and shook.
"Well mayst thou tremble," went on his pitiless tormentor. "For should
Ibrahim return without ten thousand rupees, or not return at all, by the
setting of the third sun, thine own skin shall dry beside that one."
The victim uttered a loud cry.
"The third sun! Why, Sirdar Sahib, that will be impossible. I can
never have so much money collected in so short a time. Make it the
sixth sun."