It was nearly four o'clock in the afternoon when Isaacs and I emerged
from the narrow road upon the polo ground. We were clad in the
tight-fitting garments which are necessary for the game, and wrapped in
light top-coats; as we came out on the green we saw a number of other
men in similar costume standing about, and a great many native grooms
leading ponies up and down. Miss Westonhaugh was there in her gray habit
and broad hat, and by her side, on foot, Lord Steepleton Kildare was
making the most of his time, as he waited for the rest of the players.
Mr. Currie Ghyrkins was ambling about on his broad little horse, and
John Westonhaugh stood with his hands in his pockets and a large
Trichinopoli cheroot between his lips, apparently gazing into space.
Several other men, more or less known to us and to each other, moved
about or chatted disconnectedly, and one or two arrived after us. Some
of them wore coloured jerseys that showed brightly over the open collars
of their coats, others were in ordinary dress and had come to see the
game. Farther off, at one side of the ground, one or two groups of
ladies and their escorting cavaliers haunted at a short distance by
their saices in many-coloured turbans and belts, or _cummer-bunds,_ as
the sash is called in India, moved slowly about, glancing from time to
time towards the place where the players and their ponies were preparing
for the contest.
Few games require so little preparation and so few preliminaries as
polo, descended as it is from an age when more was thought of good
horsemanship and quick eye than of any little refinements depending on
an accurate knowledge of fixed rules. Any one who is a firstrate rider
and is quick with his hands can learn to play polo. The stiffest of arms
can be limbered and the most recalcitrant wrist taught to turn nimbly in
its socket; but the essential condition is, that the player should know
how to ride. This being established, there is no reason why anybody who
likes should not play the game, if he will only use a certain amount of
caution, and avoid braining the other players and injuring the ponies by
too wild a use of his mallet. Presently it was found that all who were
to play had arrived--eight of us all told. Kildare had arranged the
sides and had brought the other men necessary to make the number
complete, so we mounted and took up our positions on the ground. Kildare
and Isaacs were together, and Westonhaugh and I on the other side, with
two men I knew slightly. We won the charge, and Westonhaugh, who was a
celebrated player, struck the ball off cleverly, and I followed him up
with a rush as he raced after it. Isaacs, on the other side, swept along
easily, and as the ball swerved on striking the ground bent far over
till he looked as though he were out of the saddle and stopped it
cleverly, while Kildare, who was close behind, got a good stroke in just
in time, as Westonhaugh and I galloped down on him, and landed the ball
far to the rear near our goal. As we wheeled quickly, I saw that one of
the other two men on our side had stopped it and was beginning to
"dribble" it along. This was very bad play, both Westonhaugh and I being
so far forward, and it met its reward. Isaacs and Kildare raced down on
him, but the latter soon pulled up on finding himself passed, and
waited. Isaacs rushed upon the temporising player and got the ball away
from him in no time; eluded the other man, and with a neat stroke sent
the ball right between the poles. The game had hardly lasted three
minutes, and a little sound of clapping was heard from where the
spectators were standing, far off on one side. I could see Miss
Westonhaugh plainly, as she cantered with her uncle to where the victors
were standing together on the other side, patting their ponies and
adjusting stirrup and saddle. Isaacs had his back turned, but wheeled
round as he heard the sound of hoofs behind him and bowed low in his
saddle to the fair girl, whose face, I could see even at that distance,
was flushed with pleasure. They remained a few minutes in conversation,
and then the two spectators rode away, and we took up our positions once
more.
The next game was a much longer one. It was the turn of the other party
to hit off, for Kildare won the charge. There were encounters of all
kinds; twice the ball was sent over the line, but outside the goal, by
long sweeping blows from Isaacs, who ever hovered on the edge of the
scrimmage, and, by his good riding, and the help of a splendid pony,
often had a chance where another would have had none. At last it
happened that I was chasing the ball back towards our goal, from one of
his hits, and he was pursuing me. I had the advantage of a long start,
and before he could reach me I got in a heavy "backhander" that sent the
ball far away to one side, where, as good luck would have it,
Westonhaugh was waiting. Quick as thought he carried it along, and in
another minute we had scored a goal, amidst enthusiastic shouts from the
spectators, who had been kept long in suspense by the protracted game.
This time it was to our side that the young girl came, riding up to her
brother to congratulate him on his success. I thought she had less
colour as she came nearer, and though she smiled sweetly as she said,
"It was splendidly played, John," there was not so much enthusiasm in
her voice as the said John, who had really won the game with masterly
neatness, might have expected. Then she sat quietly looking over the
ground, while we dismounted from our ponies, breathless, and foaming,
and lathery, from the hard-fought battle. The grooms ran up with
blankets and handfuls of grass to give the poor beasts a rub, and
covering them carefully after removing the saddles, led them away.
The sun leaves Annandale early, and I put on a coat and lit a cigarette,
while the saice saddled our second mounts. There are few prettier sights
than an English game, of any kind, on a beautiful stretch of turf. The
English live, and move and have their being out of doors. A
cricket-match, tennis, a racecourse, or a game of polo, show them at
their greatest advantage, whether as players or spectators. Their fresh
complexions suit the green of the grass and of the trees as naturally as
a bed of roses, or cyclamens, or any fresh and healthy flower will
combine with the grass and the ferns in garden or glen. The glorious
vitality that belongs to their race seems to blossom freshly in the
contact with their mother earth, and the physical capacity for motion
with which nature endows them makes them graceful and fascinating to
watch, when in some free and untrammelled dress of white they are at
their games, batting and bowling and galloping and running; they have
the same natural grace then as a herd of deer or antelopes; they are
beautiful animals in the full enjoyment of life and vigour, of health
and strength; they are intensely alive. Something of this kind passed
through my mind, in all probability, and, combined with the delightful
sensation any strong man feels in the pause after great exertion,
disposed me well towards my fellows and towards mankind at large.
Besides we had won the last game.
"You look pleased, Mr. Griggs," said Miss Westonhaugh, who had probably
been watching me for a moment or two. "I did not know cynics were ever
pleased."
"I remember who it was that promised to crown the victors of this match,
Miss Westonhaugh, and I cherish some hopes of being one of them. Would
you mind very much?"
"Mind? Oh dear no; you had better try. But if you stand there with your
coat on, you will not have much chance. They are all mounted, and
waiting for you."
"Well, here goes," I said to myself, as I got into the saddle again. "I
hope he may win, but he would find me out in a minute if I tried to play
into his hands." We were only to play the best out of three goals, and
the score was "one all." All eight of us had fresh mounts, and the
experience of each other's play we had got in the preceding games made
it likely that the game would be a long one. And so it turned out.
From the first things went badly. John Westonhaugh's fresh pony was very
wild, and he had to take him a breather half over the ground before he
could take his place for the charge. When at last the first stroke was
made, the ball went low along the ground, spinning and twisting to right
and left. Both Kildare and Isaacs missed it and wheeled across to
return, when a prolonged scrimmage ensued less than thirty yards from
their goal. Every one played his best, and we wheeled and spun round in
a way that reminded one of a cavalry skirmish. Strokes and back-strokes
followed quickly, till at last I got the ball as it came rolling out
between my horse's legs, and, hotly pursued, beyond the possibility of
making a fair stroke, I moved away with it in front of me.
Then began one of those interminable circular games that all polo
players know so well, round and round the battlefield, riding close
together, sometimes one succeeding in driving the ball a little, only to
be foiled by the next man's ill-delivered back-stroke; racing, and
pulling up short, and racing again, till horses and riders were in a
perspiration and a state of madness not to be attained by any peaceful
means. At last, as we were riding near our own goal, some one, I could
not see who, struck the ball out into the open. Isaacs, who had just
missed, and was ahead, rode for it like a madman, his club raised high
for a back-stroke. He was hotly pressed by the man who had roused my
wrath in the first game by his "dribbling" policy. He was a light weight
and had kept his best horse for the last game, so that as Isaacs spun
along at lightning speed the little man was very close to him, his club
well back for a sweeping hit. He rode well, but was evidently not so old
a hand in the game as the rest of us. They neared the ball rapidly and
Isaacs swerved a little to the left in order to get it well under his
right hand, thus throwing himself somewhat across the track of his
pursuer. As the Persian struck with all his force downwards and
backwards, his adversary, excited by the chase, beyond all judgment or
reckoning of his chances, hit out wildly, as beginners will. The long
elastic handle of his weapon struck Isaacs' horse on the flank and
glanced upward, the head of the club striking Isaacs just above the back
of the neck. We saw him throw up his arms, the club in his right hand
hanging to his wrist by the strap. The infuriated little arab pony tore
on, and in a moment more the iron grip of the rider's knees relaxed,
Isaacs swayed heavily in the saddle and fell over on the near side, his
left foot hanging in the stirrup and dragging him along some paces
before the horse finally shook himself clear and scampered away across
the turf. The whole catastrophe occurred in a moment; the man who had
done the mischief threw away his club to reach the injured player the
sooner, and as we thundered after him, my pony stumbled over the long
handle, and falling, threw me heavily over his head. I escaped with a
very slight kick from one of the other horses, and leaving my beast to
take care of himself, ran as fast as I could to where Isaacs lay, now
surrounded by the six players as they dismounted to help him. But there
was some one there before them.
The accident had occurred near the middle of the ground, and opposite
the place where Miss Westonhaugh and her uncle had taken up their stand
to watch the contest. With a shake of the reins and a blow of the hand
that made the thoroughbred bound his length as he plunged into a gallop,
the girl rode wildly to where Isaacs lay, and reining the animal back on
his haunches, sprang to the ground and knelt quickly down, so that
before the others had reached them she had propped up his head and was
rubbing his hands in hers. There was no mistaking the impulse that
prompted her. She had seen many an accident in the hunting-field, and
knew well that when a man fell like that it was ten to one he was badly
hurt.
Isaacs was ghastly pale, and there was a little blood on Miss
Westonhaugh's white gauntlet. Her face was whiter even than his, though
not a quiver of mouth or eyelash betrayed emotion. The man who had done
it knelt on the other side, rubbing one of the hands. Kildare and
Westonhaugh galloped off at full speed, and presently returned bearing a
brandy-flask and a smelling-bottle, and followed by a groom with some
water in a native _lota_. I wanted to make him swallow some of the
liquor, but Miss Westonhaugh took the flask from my hands.
"He would not like it. He never drinks it, you know," she said in a
quiet low voice, and pouring some of the contents on her handkerchief,
moistened all his brows and face and hair with the powerful alcohol.
"Loosen his belt! pull off his boots, some of you!" cried Mr. Currie
Ghyrkins, as he came up breathless. "Take off his belt--damn it, you
know! Dear, dear!" and he got off his _tat_ with all the alacrity he
could muster.
Miss Westonhaugh never took her eyes from the face of the prostrate
man--pressing the wet handkerchief to his brow, and moistening the palm
of the hand she held with brandy. In a few minutes Isaacs breathed a
long heavy breath, and opened his eyes.
"What is the matter?" he said; then, recollecting himself and trying to
move his head--"Oh! I have had a tumble. Give me some water to drink."
There was a sigh of relief from every one present as he spoke, quite
naturally, and I held the _lota_ to his lips. "What became of the ball?"
he asked quickly, as he sat up. Then turning round, he saw the beautiful
girl kneeling at his side. The blood rushed violently to his face, and
his eyes, a moment ago dim with unconsciousness, flashed brightly.
"What! Miss Westonhaugh--you?" he bounded to his feet, but would have
fallen back if I had not caught him in my arms, for he was still dizzy
from the heavy blow that had stunned him. The blood came and went in his
cheeks, and he hung on my arm confused and embarrassed, looking on the
ground.
"I really owe you all manner of apologies--" he began.
"Not a bit of it, my dear boy," broke in Ghyrkins, "my niece was nearest
to you when you fell, and so she came up and did the right thing, like
the brave girl she is." The old fellow helped her to rise as he said
this, and he looked so pleased and proud of her that I was delighted
with him. "And now," he went on, "we must see how much you are hurt--the
deuce of a knock, you know, enough to kill you--and if you are not able
to ride, why, we will carry you home, you know; the devil of a way off
it is, too, confound it all." As he jerked out his sentences he was
feeling the back of Isaacs' head, to ascertain, if he could, how much
harm had been done. All this time the man who had done the mischief was
standing by, looking very penitent, and muttering sentences of apology
as he tried to perform any little office for his victim that came in his
way. Isaacs stretched out his arm, while Ghyrkins was feeling and
twisting his head, and taking the man's hand, held it a moment.
"My dear sir," he said, "I am not in the least hurt, I assure you, and
it was my fault for crossing you at such a moment. Please do not think
anything more about it." He smiled kindly at the young fellow, who
seemed very grateful, and who from that day on would have risked
everything in the world for him. I heard behind me the voice of Kildare,
soliloquising softly.
"Faith," said he, "that fellow is a gentleman if I ever saw one. I am
afraid I should not have let that infernal duffer off so easily.
By-the-bye, Isaacs," he said aloud, coming up to us, "you know you won
the game. Nobody stopped the ball after you hit it, and the saices say
it ran right through the goal. So cheer up; you have got something for
your pains and your tumble." It was quite true; the phlegmatic saices
had watched the ball instead of the falling man. Miss Westonhaugh, who
was really a sensible and self-possessed young woman, and had begun to
be sure that the accident would have no serious results, expressed the
most unbounded delight.
"Thank you, Miss Westonhaugh," said Isaacs; "you have kept your promise;
you have crowned the victor."
"With brandy," I remarked, folding up a scarf which somebody had given
me wherewith to tie a wet compress to the back of his head.
"There is nothing the matter," said Ghyrkins; "no end of a bad bruise,
that's all. He will be all right in the morning, and the skin is only a
little broken."
"Griggs," said Isaacs, who could now stand quite firm again, "hold the
wet handkerchief in place, and give me that scarf." I did as he
directed, and he took the white woollen shawl, and in half a dozen turns
wound it round his head in a turban, deftly and gracefully. It was
wonderfully becoming to his Oriental features and dark eyes, and I could
see that Miss Westonhaugh thought so. There was a murmur of approbation
from the native grooms who were looking on, and who understood the
thing.
"You see I have done it before," he said, smiling. "And now give me my
coat, and we will be getting home. Oh yes! I can ride quite well."
"That man has no end of pluck in him," said John Westonhaugh to Kildare.
"By Jove! yes," was the answer. "I have seen men at home make twice the
fuss over a tumble in a ploughed field, when they were not even stunned.
I would not have thought it."
"He is not the man to make much fuss about anything of that kind."
Isaacs stoutly refused any further assistance, and after walking up and
down a few minutes, he said he had got his legs back, and demanded a
cigarette. He lit it carefully, and mounted as if nothing had happened,
and we moved homeward, followed by the spectators, many of whom, of
course, were acquaintances, and who had ridden up more or less quickly
to make polite inquiries about the accident. No one disputed with Isaacs
the right to ride beside Miss Westonhaugh on the homeward road. He was
the victor of the day, and of course was entitled to the best place. We
were all straggling along, but without any great intervals between us,
so that the two were not able to get away as they had done on Saturday
evening, but they talked, and I heard Miss Westonhaugh laugh. Isaacs was
determined to show that he appreciated his advantage, and though, for
all I know, he might be suffering a good deal of pain, he talked gaily
and sat his horse easily, rather a strange figure in his light-coloured
English overcoat, surmounted by the large white turban he had made out
of the shawl. As we came out on the mall at the top of the hill, Mr.
Ghyrkins called a council of war.
"Of course we shall have to put off the tiger-hunt."
"I suppose so," muttered Kildare, disconsolately.
"Why?" said Isaacs. "Not a bit of it. Head or no head, we will start
to-morrow morning. I am well enough, never fear."
"Nonsense, you know it's nonsense," said Ghyrkins, "you will be in bed
all day with a raging headache. Horrid things, knocks on the back of the
head."
"Not I. My traps are all packed, and my servants have gone down to
Kalka, and I am going to-morrow morning."
"Well, of course, if you really think you can," etc. etc. So he was
prevailed upon to promise that if he should be suffering in the morning
he would send word in time to put off the party. "Besides," he added,
"even if I could not go, that is no reason why you should not."
"Stuff," said Ghyrkins.
"Oh!" said Miss Westonhaugh, looking rather blank.
"That would never do," said John.
"Preposterous! we could not think of going without you," said Lord
Steepleton Kildare loudly; he was beginning to like Isaacs in spite of
himself. And so we parted.
"I shall not dine to-night, Griggs," said Isaacs, as we paused before
his door. "Come in for a moment: you can help me." We entered the richly
carpeted room, and he went to a curious old Japanese cabinet, and after
opening various doors and divisions, showed a small iron safe. This he
opened by some means known to himself, for he used no key, and he took
out a small vessel of jade and brought it to the light. "Now," he said,
"be good enough to warm this little jar in your hands while I go into
the next room and get my boots and spurs and things off. But do not open
it on any account--not on any account, until I come back," he added very
emphatically.
"All right, go ahead," said I, and began to warm the cold thing that
felt like a piece of ice between my hands. He returned in a few minutes
robed in loose garments from Kashmir, with the low Eastern slippers he
generally wore indoors. He sat down among his cushions and leaned back,
looking pale and tired; after ordering the lamps to be lit and the doors
closed, he motioned me to sit down beside him.
"I have had a bad shaking," he said, "and my head is a good deal
bruised. But I mean to go to-morrow in spite of everything. In that
little vial there is a powerful remedy unknown in your Western medicine.
Now I want you to apply it, and to follow with the utmost exactness my
instructions. If you fear you should forget what I tell you, write it
down, for a mistake might be fatal to you, and would certainly be fatal
to me."
I took out an old letter and a pencil, not daring to trust my memory.
"Put the vial in your bosom while you write: it must be near the
temperature of the body. Now listen to me. In that silver box is wax.
Tie first this piece of silk over your mouth, and then stop your
nostrils carefully with the wax. Then open the vial quickly and pour a
little of the contents into your hand. You must be quick, for it is very
volatile. Rub that on the back of my head, keeping the vial closed. When
your hand is dry, hold the vial open to my nostrils for two minutes by
your watch. By that time, I shall be asleep. Put the vial in this pocket
of my _caftán_; open all the doors and windows, and tell my servant to
leave them so, but not to admit any one. Then you can leave me; I shall
sleep very comfortably. Come back and wake me a little before midnight.
You will wake me easily by lifting my head and pressing one of my hands.
Remember, if you should forget to wake me, and I should still be asleep
at one o'clock, I should never open my eyes again, and should be dead
before morning. Do as I tell you, for friendship's sake, and when I wake
I shall bathe and sleep naturally the rest of the night."
I carefully fulfilled his instructions. Before I had finished rubbing
his head he was drowsy, and when I took the vial from his nostrils he
was sound asleep. I placed the precious thing where he had told me, and
arranged his limbs on the cushions. Then I opened everything, and
leaving the servant in charge went my way to my rooms. On removing the
silk and the wax which had protected me from the powerful drug, an
indescribable odour which permeated my clothes ascended to my nostrils;
aromatic, yet pungent and penetrating; I never smelt anything that it
reminded me of, but I presume the compound contained something of the
nature of an opiate. I took some books down to Isaacs' rooms and passed
the evening there, unwilling to leave him to the care of an inquisitive
servant, and five minutes before midnight I awoke him in the manner he
had directed. He seemed to be sleeping lightly, for he was awake in a
moment, and his first action was to replace the vial in the curious
safe. He professed himself perfectly restored; and, indeed, on examining
his bruise I found there was no swelling or inflammation. The odour of
the medicament, which, as he had said, seemed to be very volatile, had
almost entirely disappeared. He begged me to go to bed, saying that he
would bathe and then do likewise, and I left him for the night;
speculating on the nature of this secret and precious remedy.
* * * * *