THE FIRST ALMS.
The old Syud had heard nothing of the alarm of the previous night,
which had been carefully concealed from him and also from Zóra; and
after early morning prayer, they took their leave and returned home
with Ahmed and their old servant, Mamoolla; but as soon as they
arrived, Mamoolla's tongue was at once loosened when she saw that the
chain and padlock of the door had been cut in two, and two of the
Beydur guard at the gate followed them to ask if anything were missing.
"Oh, Zóra-bee!" cried the old woman, who seldom spoke except on small
domestic matters, "only to think that robbers attacked the house
last night, and have carried off my two best cooking pots that were
tinned newly last Bazar day, and were as bright as silver. How shall I
cook your breakfasts? Where shall we get others? Alla! Alla! And the
master's quilt and mattress are gone, and your petticoat and scarf that
I had washed and hung up to dry! Oh, Zóra-bee! And they have taken
everything, perhaps, and we are Fakeers in earnest. Oh, child! ask Abba
to return thanks for our deliverance, for had we been here we should
all have been murdered. What would have become of thee, my child?"
And the old dame flung her arms about Zóra and wept plentifully; nor
was Zóra herself less affected. She saw at a glance that violence had
been done; but the door of her own chamber, which had been locked also,
had not been disturbed, and all her grandfather's books, papers, and
medicines were safe.
"Why are ye both wailing?" cried the old man, petulantly. "What is
there to cry about? Where are my quilt and mattress, and my prayer
carpet?" he continued, feeling for them in their accustomed places.
"Who has taken them? Cannot that meddling old dame let them alone?
Bring them to me quickly, I need them."
Then Zóra went to him, and put her arms round his neck, and sobbing as
she was, said to him, "Abba! why have we enemies? We have been robbed
while we were away last night. Let us return thanks to God that we were
not here when they came, or we might have perished."
The Syud was soothed at once. "In the path to Heaven," he said,
reverently, "there are many dangers to be encountered, child; pitfalls
everywhere to the soul and to the body; weary rocks and stones to
travel over; and whatever happens must be endured. O Alla Kureem! I
thank thee," he continued, raising his joined hands, "for this thy
deliverance. The enemy truly came, but thou hadst provided us with
help, and in thy name we will distribute Fatehas."
"What enemy, Abba?" asked Zóra, trembling, as her heart suggested only
one.
"I may be wrong," replied the old man; "but my heart tells me plainly,
nay, as if that bad man had said it to us, that none other can have
done it but Osman Beg and his men; or perhaps he himself came, under
cover of the noise, and shouting and firing of guns last night."
"Let us go, Abba; let us go wherever God leads us; we are ever safe
with Him; but not so near our persecutor. Let us go now, to-day. Oh,
Abba, do not stay!"
Just then there was a sound of many footsteps near the door, and Burma
Naik cried in a cheery voice, "Is all well with thee, Huzrut?" and
the Kazee of Kembavee and others cried out, "Is all well with thee,
Huzrut, and the child? Arise, and come to us, for we have much to
say to thee." And the old man, led by Zóra to the door, went and sat
down in his accustomed seat, while all present crowded round him with
congratulations. "And see," said Burma, "here are thy mattress and
pillow, and quilt, and two cooking vessels, and some other things which
the robbers dropped in their flight. Here, Ahmed, carry them inside."
They were, indeed, all that had been taken; and old Mamoolla hugged
the vessels to her heart, kissed them, and cried over them like one
distraught. No, they had lost nothing but Zóra's muslin scarf, and that
was an old one.
"Now shut the door, Zóra-bee," cried Burma, "for we have that to say
to thy grandfather to which thou must not listen. He can tell thee
afterwards if he lists." Then Burma proceeded to relate how, when the
bridal procession had passed out by the west gate, some men had been
observed by the guard on the east gate bastion moving about the trunks
of the great banian tree, but were not noticed at first; but when the
door of the house was broken in, and a torch lighted, it was certain
they were Dacoits, and the whole of the guard rushed upon the robbers,
firing their matchlocks at them to give an alarm. Then one Beydur
related how the gang had fled, and were pursued and overtaken, on which
a combat, hand to hand, took place, and one of the Beydurs had been
speared to death and another badly wounded, and several of the robbers
were wounded and two killed. How, then, the gang, which consisted of
about thirty men, again fled, and was met by the Naik himself, and all
was soon over.
"My men at the gate were watchful and brave," said Burma; "and when any
man of mine does a gallant act I reward him after our simple fashion.
Is it your pleasure, Huzrut, that they should receive what I have
prepared for them? and will you honour the poor fellows by giving it to
them with your own hands?"
"Surely, surely," said the old man, much affected. "Where are they,
that I may bless them?"
"Here are four silver armlets for those who fought best, and here are
the men; put your hands on their heads, and give each one." When this
was done, a bundle of new turbans and scarves was brought, and one of
each being laid together, some twelve or fourteen sets were distributed
as the armlets had been.
"I have to feed them, too, Huzrut," said the Naik, laughing, "and give
them plenty of séndhee (palm wine) to drink; and they will all be happy
after the poor lad who died has been burnt. Now, away with ye all!"
he cried to the crowd of Beydurs assembled. "Away!" And the pipes and
drums struck up a wild march, and played them into the town.
"We are now alone, Huzrut; and the Kazee and I would tell thee what we
have discovered. The duróra was one planned by Osman Beg."
"Ah! if that could only be proved," interrupted the old man, sadly, "I
could take it before the Queen, and pray for justice."
"We have proof enough," said the Kazee; "proof that I, a humble
servant of God and the State, can testify to, if needs be. But it is
hardly required, for we have a document, signed and sealed by Osman
Beg himself, addressed to Kalloo Naik, who died before us last night,
and which he gave up of his own free will, else we had not, perhaps,
discovered it. I have appended a Persian translation to it, and a
certificate as to the manner in which it was found; and before the
King or the Queen, or the Mufti at the court, that testimony cannot be
shaken."
"Ajáib! wonderful!" exclaimed the old Syud. "When we see the finger of
the Lord following us and directing us, O Kazee Sahib, can we doubt?"
"Indeed no, father," returned the Kazee, simply; "but there is still
more. Here is a letter from Osman Beg to myself in his own handwriting,
bearing his seal, which is exactly similar to that on the other paper,
and the writing, too, of the Persian letters agrees perfectly. This
is an invitation for me to come to Juldroog to-day, and perform the
ceremony of marriage with one Zóra-bee. But how was I to understand
who that might be? So it is clear, if the Nika was to be performed,
Zóra-bee must have gone from hence, for there is no other Zóra-bee
that I know of, and it is not a common name in these parts. But if I
had even gone," continued the Kazee, "as we all heard from the man who
died, it would have been too late, for the last dishonour that woman
could suffer would have been inflicted upon her. Nay, even a litter had
been provided to carry the child away."
"And it shall be hung up in the Chaoree as witness against him," said
Burma, "just as it is."
The old Syud turned from one to another of his informants with wonder
and thankfulness expressed in his aged features, and the tears were
coursing down his cheeks as he listened to the details of the affair
as given to him by the speakers. "Alla, the merciful and ever-present,
protected the child before, and will ever protect the helpless and the
orphan; and we owe our lives and honour to Him, and, next to Him, to
thee, O Burma Naik. Wouldst thou belonged to Islam, as we do!"
"My ancestors were Beydurs, Huzrut, before Islam existed," returned
the Naik, proudly. "No, Huzrut, we are better as we are. But now, what
shall we do for thee and Zóra, whom all love here, as she is loved
everywhere? What dost thou think, O Kazee?"
"If I may speak, and advise one so superior to me in wisdom and
learning, I should counsel thee, O Syud, to proceed at once to
Beejapoor; lay thy complaint, and Zóra-bee herself, at the foot of the
throne, and cry for justice. Our noble Queen Chand Beebee would not,
could not deny justice to an old man, and a holy Musháekh like thyself,
O Syud! Consider this, and go. To remain here is only to run a fearful
risk; and worse than that, to endanger strife between the Juldroog
troops and the Beydurs, and so lead to reprisals and blood feuds. It
would be well to prevent any chance of bloodshed, Huzrut."
Had not the worthy Kazee used the title Musháekh it is most probable
perhaps that the Syud, thoroughly alarmed, might have proceeded at once
to Beejapoor, where he knew Zóra desired to go--if only to meet Maria
once again; and he felt sure of justice whenever he might appeal for
it. But the mention of the title sent his thoughts on their old errand.
"Sir," he said, "for many years I have been preparing myself for the
Turreequt, and without that I can be neither a poor Fakeer or rise to
the dignity of one of God's divines, a Musháekh. The Lord has directed
my path hitherto by wonderful events, and I follow the Eastern way;
but I see the need of changing it; and you, Kazee Sahib, to whom such
mysteries are known, can direct me to the proper course."
"I see but one," he replied. "There is no saint in all these provinces,
but the descendant of Syud Geesoo Duráz of Gulburgah, to whom thou
couldst go for reception into the Divine order. All other shrines are
inaccessible to thee, Huzrut, on account of their distance and thy
venerable age. Within a short time is the oorus (anniversary) of the
holy saint, Syud Sofee Surmust, at Sugger; and there thousands of
Fakeers assemble, of whom many go on to Gulburgah. I can direct thee to
Sugger, where I have many friends and some humble disciples; and they
will guide thee, and further thee on thy way. Let me see! Thy route is
changed to the north, therefore--
Kunujgin Bamshin, Kunujgin Bisma,
Kunujgin Bamshin, Kunujgin Bimash.[1]
"And then"--and he counted rapidly on his fingers--"Wednesday will be
your day for proceeding on your journey, and the Rujub-ool-Gyb will be
in the northern quarter, which is good for thee, at the first watch of
the day, which is convenient. And if ye all eat a little sour curds for
your breakfast, the journey will lead to a happy result. But there is
no other good position of the Rujub-ool-Gyb for many days after that,
and in a strait like this ye should risk nothing."
The Kazee was an experienced director of journeys and well versed in
casting nativities, selecting proper days for marriages and betrothals;
and in these respects there was no one who could compete with him;
and as the old Syud saw that he was not a pretender, he put the more
confidence in his directions.
"I would you could see my granddaughter's horoscope which I cast at her
birth myself, or perhaps you have not leisure?"
"I have leisure before me ere it is time to depart, and you will do me
a favour if you will show it to me, Huzrut. I will return after I have
broken my fast; and the food is even now ready in the worthy Moolla's
house, and I must not disappoint his hospitality."
"I have been thinking," said Burma, "how we can best convey the holy
Syud to Sugger; and I have a plan in my mind which, if it is approved
of, I will put in execution. Syud Moostafa, the Persian secretary of
the Rajah, is my friend, and Daood Khan Bhylmee, the leader of the
Bhylmee division of horse, is a chief to whom my force is attached.
I will write to them now, if I may, and beg that an escort of horse
may be sent to meet Huzrut at Hoonsigee, where he should sleep, and,
rising early, go on to Wakin-Keyra; and this could be done without any
fatigue. From hence I can send my own palkee, and a litter for the
child, and my people as escort."
"A good thought," said the Kazee; "I do not think Huzrut will make any
objection."
"Indeed, no," returned the old man; "ye are only too kind to one who
has been a trouble to you both. But before we proceed to make other
arrangements, may I inquire whether any of the Dacoits are here, I
should like to ask them some questions. Who were they?"
"Jutts and Káikarees," replied Burma; "the boldest of all Dacoits and
robbers; and who would not be tempted by the sum assured? The leader
was Kalloo Naik, a bold, reckless fellow, whom I wounded last night in
the scuffle; and, as the Kazee Sahib knows, when he had thrown that
paper to us, he tore the bandages from his wound, and died at once. The
rest the Kazee Sahib gave over to me, and as one of my people had been
slain, they were all hanged but one. It will be a lesson to the tribe
not to attempt dacoity here, and recently there has been more than we
liked I only sent away one, a boy, who was, perhaps, a spy; and I wrote
a letter to the clans that for every duróra they committed inside
our boundaries, I would hang two men, one Jutt and one Káikaree; and
this will keep them quiet for some time, for they know that Runga and
I always do exactly as we say. If we did not, none of us could sleep
safely in our beds. Care for nothing, Huzrut, all shall be prepared for
ye, and my wife will come to Zóra presently, and comfort her."
After a while, therefore, the good lady came, bringing with her bags
of rice and vermicelli, baskets of sweetmeats, and provisions enough
to have lasted them for months. She told Zóra all that had happened,
and other women dropping in, related every event of the night with
wonderful increase of incidents at each narrative. The Kazee, too,
returned, and Zóra's horoscope was produced and discussed. We will
not trouble the reader with particulars of astrological predictions
in regard to her, but no doubt certain dangers, as well as strokes of
good fortune, troubles, and joys, were set forth, which, as they will
have their places in this history, need not be anticipated. On taking
his leave to depart, the worthy Kazee gave the Marathi letter of Osman
Beg to the robber, and that to himself in Persian, to Zóra, bidding her
keep them about her person, for the time might come when they would be
of use.
Although they had been in Kukeyra less than two months, yet they left
the place with regret. Zóra and her grandfather had both established
separate interests in the place. It was one in which Zóra could
go about at all times of the day as she had done in the island
fortress, and all her old vocations found ample scope for exercise;
for in attendance on the sick, and in distribution of medicines, her
charitable heart knew no difference between Beydur and Hindoo, or
Mussulman. Then it was pleasant to stroll with Burma's wife to her
pretty garden, and sit among the cool plantain groves, and under the
shade of great mango trees, and hold her little school there, when Abba
could spare her; or, when at home, to dream in her seat by the old
saint's tomb, under the great banian tree, and watch the lizards and
grey squirrels at play, and the shy and pretty tree birds hop silently
from branch to branch. But Zóra would not have remained after the
incidents of Friday night; she dared not. The unscrupulous attempts of
her enemy to possess himself of her, the narrow escape she had had of
capture--perhaps death, or worse--caused her to shudder as she thought
of them; and all she wished for was to be at rest, far away; where she
cared not, so she and Abba were safe.
Even Beejapoor, Burma said, was dangerous, so long as her position was
unassured; and he explained to her how lawless bands of men existed
there who were ready to undertake any villainy for money, and who, in
any number, might be hired by Osman Beg, and prove more successful than
the robbers had been where she was. It had been a weary thought, this
wandering of her grandfather's, but under the terror that possessed
her it had even become welcome now, and Zóra accepted it as part of
her fate which could not be averted, and must be endured. Every hour,
as the day of departure drew nigh, her grandfather grew more and more
petulant and doubtful. They must walk, he said, for they were Fakeers,
and had no right to ride. They must beg their daily bread, for they
had no need to care for food, and the good Alla would send them what
they wanted. At every village they should sing an invocation or a
hymn, and he had by heart a great number of these; or they should go
about villages and towns with a wallet collecting handfuls of meal, or
rice, or pulse. And the old man's determination on this subject seemed
unalterable. He even one day sat down at his gate, and spread a sheet,
and blessed the passers by, and some threw pice and others cowries,
and in the evening Zóra came and took them up; but there was hardly
a rupee's worth in all. That, however, was only a trial, the old man
said, in a place where they were known to be well provided, and they
would do better elsewhere. Still it was a dreary prospect.
They had not to walk, however. During the night before the day of
proposed departure, a small party of horse arrived from Wakin-Keyra,
and informed Burma that two litters with bearers would meet them at
Hoonsigee. So Burma provided his own palanquin for the old man, and a
light litter for Zóra, and the ponies were driven on by Ahmed, and the
little baggage was distributed as before; but Zóra gave the two pet
cows and the goats to Burma's wife, with many tears, and that good lady
kissed her feet, and the children wept aloud at parting with their kind
friend. Finally, before noon of Wednesday they set out, and travelled
to the end of their stage comfortably; nay, so luxuriously, that the
old Syud declared it was more like a nobleman's journey than a poor
Fakeer's, and would have no more such after he reached Wakin-Keyra.
So, passing low hills and rocky ground, but with many pretty villages
surrounded by green fields and gardens, they reached their destination;
and the old Syud, who had been thinking about it all the way, as soon
as they arrived at the gate of the little town, desired his litter to
be set down. Zóra spread a sheet before him, and seated herself on
one side, but rather behind him; and Ahmed, giving up charge of the
ponies to Mamoolla, bid her go into the mosque, where they were to put
up, and unload the animals, with the help of some of the horsemen's
grooms. Then, to the astonishment of the horsemen, one of the little
invocations was sung every now and then by all; and, as people began
to collect, small contributions were thrown upon the cloth till it was
fairly covered; and after her grandfather sung a thanksgiving, though
his voice was thin and quavering, Zóra gathered the ends of the cloth
together, and, leading him, she carried it to the mosque, where he
first took the cloth as it was, and, kneeling down before the pulpit
steps, offered the whole to God, and then sat down to count it. There
were more than seven rupees in all, and he gave two to the Moolla and
Patell of the town to distribute in charity. "We can live on less
than five rupees a day," he said, chuckling, "and we can save two for
the expenses of the Turreequt. Oh, blessed day that I departed from
slothfulness and idleness; and blessed be Alla, the gracious, who thus
leads me, a poor sinner, to his salvation."
It was pleasant, too, in the evening to find people gather about him
in the mosque. Zóra and Mamoolla, with Ahmed's help, had nailed up a
carpet across a corner as a screen, and sat behind it close to him,
and warned off those who would have disturbed his meditations by idle
questions; but after he had gone through his daily exercise on the
points of salvation and the means of its attainment, people came in,
and the conversation became general, and to the Syud delightful, for
several of the horsemen belonged to Beejapoor, and some had family or
clannish surnames which were familiar, and it was difficult to preserve
the entire _incognito_ which he had assumed. Presently the call to
evening prayer was well sung by the muezzin, and after a plentiful
meal they lay down and slept. Not for years past had Zóra remembered
her grandfather so cheerful or so full of hope. He woke early, for
the azàn was proclaimed; and they prayed together, for none else had
arisen. Then he said to Zóra, "Come, child! we must do our duty;" and
taking a long piece of strong cloth, used to make a bundle, she held
it by the four corners, and they went their way through the streets,
with the simple cry of "Alla diláya to leónga"--"if God gives I will
take." Now and then they stopped to sing an invocation, and the clear
voice of Zóra sounded sweetly in the fresh morning air. Good housewives
were grinding at their mills with many a rough unmelodious song,
but none refused to put a handful of meal, or pulse, or rice, into
the extemporised basket, which soon became so heavy that Zóra could
scarcely carry it, and they returned. When it was all poured out, it
formed a goodly heap, and the Syud patted it with his hand and was
thankful for it. "We could not eat it all in two days, child," he said;
"and we have the money besides. Why need we fear, so long as we put our
trust in the granter of prayer?"
After they had all eaten they proceeded as they had done the day
before, and the road was less stony and rugged; and when they had
passed through a small range of rocky hills and over the embankment of
the pretty irrigation lake of Bohnal, with the widespread waters to
the west sparkling in the sun and the green rice fields to the east,
the fortifications of Wakin-Keyra at the termination of a high and
rugged mass of mountains fell on Zóra's sight; and one of the horsemen,
dashing up to the Syud's palanquin, told him that he was going on, and
that if he would remain for about an hour under the shade of one of the
great banian trees of the embankment, and then follow, he would find
all prepared to receive him. So the litters being placed together, they
got out of them and sat down, while the waves of the lake dashed among
the stones which formed the facing of the earthen bank, with a pleasant
refreshing murmur.
FOOTNOTE:
[1] Letters which denote points of the compass.