"Miriam, Miriam, what is it? Canst thou not tell a body, bound to a
millstone as I? Thy tongue goes fast enough when I wish thee silent!"
It was a woman's voice that was beginning to lose its fulness and
sweetness, in other words, its womanliness, which called up from the
courtyard, where the hum of the quern grinding the yellow Indian corn
deadened all other sounds.
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[Footnote 52: Copyright, 1895, by Macmillan & Co.]
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"It is naught, mother! Only Hussan and Husayn once more." It was a
woman's voice also from the roof where the Indian corn was drying to a
richer gold in the sunlight; but it was a voice which had hardly come
as yet to its full roundness, in other words, to its perfect
womanliness.
"Hussan and Husayn! What makes them be for ever fighting like young
cocks?"
There was an instant's pause; then the voice from the roof came
piously, "God knows!"
Probably He did, but Miriam herself might have been less modest as to
her knowledge. For the case stood thus. It was a corner house between
two sequestered alleys which intersected each other at right angles,
and there had been a lingering lover, expectant of some recognition,
in each alley. Now, if half-a-handful of golden corn be thrown as a
guerdon over the parapet just at the angle, and if the lovers,
hot-blooded young sparks, spring forward incontinently to pick up the
precious grains and meet, then----
"Indeed, mother, they were very like cocks," remarked Miriam gravely,
as she stepped daintily down the narrow mud-stairs again to resume her
spinning in the courtyard. Once more she spoke truth, but hardly the
whole truth; since when featherless bipeds are picking up grains of
corn out of a gutter, they can hardly avoid a resemblance to feathered
ones.
So the whir of the wheel joined the hum of the quern, and both formed
a background to her sudden girlish laugh at the recollection of what
she had seen through the peep-hole in the parapet.
The whole thing was a play to this Osmanzai girl, who, for all her
seclusion, knew perfectly well that she was the beauty of the village,
and that many another spark besides Hussan and Husayn would be only
too glad of half-a-handful of Indian corn to pick up out of the
gutter. But these two being the most expert swimmers in that quaint
bare colony of huts set on a loose shale slope with the wild wicked
rush of the Indus at its foot, were, perhaps, the most interesting.
That is to say, if you excepted Khasia, the big soft shepherd who came
down sometimes from the grassy, fir-crowned slopes higher up the
gorge; the Maha-ban or Great Forest Hills, beyond which lay the Black
Mountain.
A strange wild country, is this of the Indus gorge, just as the great
river begins to think of the level plains in front of it. A strange
wild people are those who live in that close-packed, flat-roofed
village upon the shale slope, where a footfall sends the thin leaves
of mica-schist slithering away into the rushing river. There is no
stranger country, no wilder people. For this is Sitana, the place of
refuge for every Mohammedan fanatic who finds the more civilised
plains too hot even for his fiery faith; Sitana, the dwelling-place of
the Syyuds who, since the days of their great leader Ahmad, have spent
their lives in killing every hell-doomed infidel they can get hold of
in cold blood. And as the pigs of Hindus live on the other side of the
rushing river, it follows that those who kill must also swim, since
there is no bridge far or near. That was why Hussan and Husayn, and
many another of their sort, with carefully oiled thews and sinews of
bronze, would go down the shale slope on dark nights and slip softly
into the ice-cold stream. Then, if there was a glint of moon, you
could see them caught in the great upward curve of the mad current
inshore, the two skin-bladders that were slung under their armpits
making it look as if six dark heads, not two, were drifting down and
down; yet somehow drifting nearer and nearer to the other side where
the pigs of Hindus were to be found. But even a glint of moon kept
them, as a rule, talking of future nights--unless there was some cause
to raise their recklessness to fever-height; for even that glint was
enough to make the police watchers on the other, the English, side
slip softly also into the stream, and give chase. A strange, wild
chase indeed it was; down and down in the dark till the blockade was
run, or the venture abandoned for another night. Or stranger, wilder
still, two men with knives met on the crest of the current and fought
a strange, bloodless fight, hacking at the bladders because they were
larger than the head, and the loss of them meant equally certain
disablement. For there was nothing to be done in that wild stream if
they were pricked but to cast them free and dive--to dive down and
down past the current, to come up, please God! nearer home.
So, because of those watchers on the other side, the Sitana swimmers
could not start openly, nor from the same place. They went singly,
silently, but the next morning ere the light came fully they would all
be resting together on the steps of the little mosque; unless, indeed,
some of them had not returned; were, in fact, to return no more. And
the worshippers would be crowding round one or two, perhaps, while the
others looked on enviously to hear how some traveller had been
happened upon and done to death in the dark upon the undulating tract
of low jungle on the other side. Then the worshippers going home would
say casually in their houses: "Hussan killed his man last night; that
makes him two ahead of Husayn. And Ahmad, the new one, hath another,
so that brings him next to Husayn, who will need to work hard." And
the women would gossip about it among themselves, and say that, of
course, Miriam, the village-beauty, would choose the best swimmer when
the time came for the curious choice which is allowed the Pathan girl
among lovers whom she is supposed never to have seen. As yet, however,
Miriam had only laughed, and thrown handfuls of yellow corn into the
gutter, and said things to the aspirants' female relations which were
sure to be repeated, and make the rivalry run fiercer than ever. She
did all this partly because of the big shepherd, partly because it was
good for the faith to stimulate the young men's courage, but mostly
because it amused her.
It was far, however, from having that effect on the Englishman who was
responsible for the reputation of the district over the water. The
more so because his name happened to be John Nicholson, and John
Nicholson was not a man to allow any increase of crime within his
borders without knowing the reason why, and meting out punishment for
the offence.
"What the deuce does it mean?" he said to the trembling native
official in charge of that particular portion of the country which lay
over against Sitana. "There have been twenty murders this quarter
against ten in the last. And I told you that for every man killed on
our side there were to be two in Sitana. What on earth are your
swimmers about? If they are not so good as theirs, get others. Get
something! There must be some fault on your part, or they wouldn't
cock their tails up in this way. Remedy it; that is what you have got
to do, so don't ask questions as to how it is to be done. I'll back
you up, never fear."
And then he took his telescope out, as he sat on his horse among the
low bushes down by the rushing river, and prospected before he
galloped off, neck or nothing, as his fashion was, to regain his camp
thirty miles away, and write an urgent letter to Government detailing
fully the measures which he intended to adopt for the repression of
these scandalous crimes. But even a telescope did not show him
Miriam's face as she sat spinning in the courtyard. And the rest of
the long, low, flat-roofed village clinging to the shaly slope seemed
very much at its usual; that is to say, the commonplace nest of as
uncommon a set of religious scoundrels as could be found north or
south. So he told himself that they must have been strengthened lately
by a new contingent of fanatics from the plains, or that the
approaching Mohurrum-tide had raised their religious fervour to
boiling-point. He allowed these reasons to himself, though he
permitted none to his subordinate; but neither he nor the scared
police inspector dreamed of that laughing girl's face over the
water which was the cause of Hussan and Husayn's unusual activity.
Still as he gathered his reins into his left hand he paused to give a
more kindly look from under his dark eyebrows at the inspector's
knock-knees.
"Why don't you get some of their swimmers?" he asked curtly. "I
could." Doubtless he could; he was a man who got most things which he
set himself to get. Yet even he might have failed here but for that
girl's face, that handful of yellow Indian corn, and the fierce fight
which followed for both between those two, Hussan and Husayn, who, as
they were finally held back from each other by soothing, friendly
hands, felt that the end was nigh if it had not already come. Brothers
of the same belief,--fellow-workers in that stream of Death,--first
and second alternately in the great race for men's lives, they knew
that the time had come when they must be at each other's throat and
settle which was to be best once and for all--which was to be best in
Miriam's eyes. And then to their blind wrath came an authoritative
voice, the voice of the holiest man there, the Syyud Ahmad, whom to
disobey was to be accursed. "There is too much of this brawling," came
the fiat. "'Tis a disgrace. Lo! Hussan, Husayn, here among the elders,
swear before the Lord to have done with it. Swear that neither will
raise hand again against a hand that fights for the same cause. Swear,
both of you." A chorus of approval came from the bystanders as those
two, thus checked, stood glaring at each other. There were a few
grains of the yellow Indian corn still in the gutter at their feet;
and they looked at them as they swore never again to raise a hand
against one fighting the good fight.
That same day, at dusk, Hussan and Husayn sat on the edge of the
stream, their feet almost touching the water, their skin-bladders
beside them, their sharp knives hung in a sheath round their necks.
Their bronze muscles shone even in the growing gloom; from head to
foot they were lithe, strong, graceful in their very strength. They
sat close to each other as they had often sat before, looking out over
the tumbling rush of the wild current, to the other side of the river.
"Yea! Then I will go forth to-night as thou sayest, Hussan; and when I
return equal, we will draw lots which is to take service on the other
side."
"So be it, Husayn; I will wait for thee. And see, if thou couldst kill
one of their swimmers, 'twere better. Then will it be easier to get
his place. Hit up, brother, from the water; 'tis more deadly than the
downward stroke."
And as they sat side by side, speaking quietly, almost indifferently,
the evening call to prayer rang out over the wild wicked stream, and
without another word they faced round from the river to the western
hills. The parapet of Miriam's house stood out higher than the rest of
the village. Perhaps they made it the Kaaba of their prayers, though
they were orthodox enough in their genuflexions.
"Hussan and Husayn have been made by the _Pir sahib_, to swear they
will not fight any more," said a girl, who giggled as she spoke, to
Miriam when they were coming back with their water-pots from the
river.
"_Loh!_ there be plenty others who will," answered the round sweet
voice that had not yet come to its full sweetness and roundness. "They
are all like fighting-cocks, except the shepherds. Belike 'tis the
sheep which make them peaceful, so they have time to laugh. Hussan and
Husayn are ever breathless from some struggle. I would not be as
they."
"Lazybones!" retorted the giggler. "Thy mother-in-law will need her
tongue. Thy water-pot is but half-full even now."
"Still, it is heavy enough for my arms," replied the sweet voice
indifferently, yet sharply, "and the river is far." Then it added
inconsequently: "But there are streams up in the hills that folk can
guide to their doors. And the grass grows soft too. Here is nothing
but stones; I hate them, they are so hard."
"And the big shepherd's mother is dead," put in another girl pertly;
whereat the rest giggled louder than ever.
Was it Hussan or Husayn who, three days afterwards, appeared suddenly
before the District-officer in camp with a nicely written petition on
a regulation sheet of English-made paper, requesting that he might be
put on as a swimming patrol on the river opposite Sitana in place of
one who was supposed to have been killed or drowned? There is no need
to know. No need to know which it was who won the toss when Husayn
came back with a smile to say that, so far, they were quits, and might
begin a new game. Whichever it was, John Nicholson looked at the lean
bronze thews and sinews approvingly, and then asked the one crucial
question, "Can you?"
The man smiled, a quick, broad smile. "None better, _Huzoor_, on the
Indus. There is one, over the water, who deems himself my match. God
knows if he is."
John Nicholson, who had bent over his writing again, glanced up
hastily. "So that is it. Here, _Moonshee_, write an order to the man
at Khanpur to put this man on at once." He was back at his writing
almost before the order was ended, and in the silence which followed
under the white wings of the tent set wide to all the winds of heaven,
the sound of two pens could be heard. One was the Englishman's,
writing a report to headquarters saying that the increase of crime
must be checked by reprisals, the other the native's, bidding the
inspector put on the bearer as a Government swimmer.
"For signature, _Huzoor_," came a deferential voice, and the
still-busy pen shifted itself to the shiny paper laid beside it, and
the dark, keen, kindly eyes looked up once more for half a second.
"Well, good luck to you! I hope you'll kill him, whoever he is."
"By the help of God, _Huzoor_, by the help of God!"
Which was it, Hussan or Husayn, who in the growing dusk walked up and
down the shaly glacis below the long cluster of Sitana, watching the
opposite bank with the eyes of a lynx for each stone of vantage, each
shallow whence a few yards' start might be gained? Which was it,
Husayn or Hussan, who in the same dusk paced up and down the low bank
on the other side watching in his turn, with untiring eyes, for the
quicker curve of the current where a bold swimmer might by one swift
venture drift down faster to the calmer water, and so have a second or
two in which to regain breath ere the fight began? What matters it
whether the panther was on the western bank and the leopard on the
eastern? They were two wild beasts pacing up and down, up and down,
with their feet upon the water's edge; up and down, up and down, even
when the moon rose and their shadows showed more distinctly than they
did themselves; for the oil upon their limbs caught the light keenly
like the glistening shale and the glistening wet sand at their feet.
Up and down, up and down, they paced, in the stillness and the peace,
with only the noise of the rushing river, slumberously, monotonously,
insistent; up and down, up and down till the cry of the _muazzim_ at
dawn came echoing over the water.
_Prayer is more than sleep! Prayer is more than sleep!_
Ay! more even than sleeplessness with sheer murder in heart and brain.
So peace fell between those two while they turned towards Mecca and
prayed; for what, God knows. Perhaps once more the real spiritual
Kaaba was what they saw with the eyes of the flesh; that flat-roofed
house just beginning to blush rosy in the earliest rays of the rising
sun; more probably it was not, since they had passed through love to
hatred. And then, prayers over, murder was over also for the time,
since they could not court detection by daylight.
"They are wondrous keen on the other side, despite the moon," said the
elders of the village and the officials over the way, alike; "but
there is no fear _our_ watchman will be taken at a disadvantage. He is
there from dusk till dawn."
"Ay!" replied wiseacres on either side; "but when the moon wanes, what
then?"
It came even before that, came with a great purple mass of
thunder-clouds making the Black Mountain beyond the Mahaban deserve its
name, and drawing two pair of eyes, one on either side of the stream,
into giving hopeful glances at the slow majestic march of gloom across
the sky. It was dusk an hour sooner, dawn an hour later than usual that
night and day, so there was plenty of time for sheer murder before
prayer-time. And as there was no storm, no thunder after all, but only
the heavy clouds hanging like a curtain over the moon, a faint splash
into the rushing river might have been heard some time in the night,
followed by another. Then after a while a cry broke the brooding
silence above the hurrying whisper below; the cry of faith, and fate,
and fight.
_Allah-ho-Akhbar! Allah-ho-hukk!_
Perhaps it was the _muazzim_ again, proclaiming out of due time that
"God is Might and Right"; or maybe it was those two swimmers in the
river as they caught sight of each other in the whirling water. If so,
Hussan struck upwards from the water, no doubt, and Husayn, mindful of
advice, followed suit; and so the six black heads must have gone
drifting down stream peacefully, save for the hatred in the two faces
glaring at each other, since the river hid their blows decorously. But
there was no trace of them on it far or near when the sun rose over
the eastern hills, and the big shepherd, singing a guttural love-song,
came leaping down the stony path towards Sitana with a bunch of red
rhododendrons behind his ear.
Some days afterwards, however, the native official at the Police
Station rode over to see his superior, and reported with a smirk that
he had seen through the telescope a great weeping and wailing at
Sitana. Two of their swimmers had apparently been killed in fair
fight, for their bodies had been brought up for burial from the
backwater further down the river; and as the new man, whom the
_Huzoor_ had appointed, had either absconded or been killed also that
just made the proportion what his Honour had laid down for future
guidance, two to one.
"H'm!" said John Nicholson half to himself, "I wonder which of the two
was really the better man."