Nana Sahib had assumed a gracious manner toward Ajeet Singh when Bootea
had been brought to the _nautch_. He had bestowed a handsome gift upon
the Chief, ten gold _mohrs_; and for Bootea there had been the gift of
a ruby, also ten gold _mohrs_.
This munificence,--for Hunsa and Sookdee declared it to be a rare
extravagance,--was not so much as reward for Bootea's _nautch_ as a
desire on the part of the astute Prince to prepare for the greater
service required.
The Dewan also was very gracious to Ajeet over his compliance; but, at
the same time, declared that an order had been passed by Baptiste that
if the Bagrees would not obey the command to go after Amir Khan he
would not pay them a thousand rupees a day out of the treasury. He put
all this very affably; raised his two fat hands toward heaven declaring
that he was helpless in the matter--Baptiste was the commander, and he
was but a dewan. With a curious furtive look in his ox-eyes he advised
Ajeet to consult with Hunsa over a method of obtaining money for the
decoits. He would not commit himself as to making a decoity, for when
they had seized upon the Chief for the crime Ajeet could not then say
that the Dewan had instigated it; there would be only Hunsa's word for
this, and, of course, he would deny that the Minister was the father of
the scheme.
And in the camp Hunsa and Sookdee were clamouring at Ajeet to undertake
a decoity for they were all in need, and to be idle was not their way
of life.
Hunsa went the length of telling Ajeet that the Dewan would even send
them word where a decoity of much loot could be made and in a safe way,
too, for the Dewan would take care that neither sepoys nor police would
be in the way.
And then one day there came to the Bagree camp a mysterious message. A
yogi, his hair matted with filth till it stood twisted and writhed on
his head like the serpent tresses of Medusa, his lean skeleton
ash-daubed body clothed in yellow, on his forehead the crescent of
Eklinga, in his hand a pair of clanking iron tongs, crawled wearily to
the tents where were the decoits, and bleared out of blood-shot blobs
of faded brown at Ajeet Singh.
He had a message for the Chief from the god Bhyroo who galloped at
night on a black horse, and the message had to do with the decoits, for
if they were successful they could make offering to the priests at the
temple of Bhowanee, for in her service decoity was an honourable
occupation and of great antiquity.
Hunsa and Sookdee had come to sit on their heels, and as they listened
they knew that the wily old Dewan had sent the _yogi_ so that it could
not be said that he, the Minister, had told them this thing.
A rich jewel merchant of Delhi was then at Poona on his way to the
Nizam's court. He had a wealth of jewels--pearls the size of a bird's
egg, emeralds the size of a betel nut, and diamonds that were like
stars. This was true for the merchant had paid the duty as he passed
the border into Mahrattaland.
Ajeet gave the yogi two rupees for food, though, viewing the animated
skeleton, it seemed a touch of irony.
Then the jamadars considered the message so deeply wrapped in
mysticism. Hunsa unhesitatingly declared that the yogi was a messenger
from the Dewan, and if they did not take advantage of it they would
perhaps have to fare forth on lean stomachs and in disgrace--perhaps
would be beaten by the Mahratta sepoys--undoubtedly they would.
Sookdee backed up the jamadar.
"Very well," declared Ajeet, "we will go on this mission. But remember
this, Hunsa, that if there is treachery, if we are cast into the hands
of the Dewan, I swear by Bhowanee that I will have your life."
"Treachery!" It was the snarl of an enraged animal, and Hunsa sprang
to his feet. He whirled, and facing Sookdee, said: "Let Bhowanee
decide who is traitor--let Ajeet and me take the ordeal."
"That is but fair," Sookdee declared. "The ordeal of the heated cannon
ball will surely burn the hand of the traitor if there is one," and he
looked at Ajeet; and though suspicious that this was still another
trap, Ajeet without cowardice could not decline.
"I will take the ordeal," he declared.
"We will take the ordeal to-night," Hunsa said; "and we should prepare
with haste the method of the decoity, for the merchant may pass, and we
must take the road in a proper disguise. There is the village to be
decided upon where he will rest in his journey, and many things."
Even Ajeet was forced to acquiesce in this.
Boastfully Hunsa declared: "The ordeal will prove that I am thinking
only of our success. This method of livelihood has been our profession
for generations, and yet when we are in the protection of the powerful
Dewan Ajeet says I am a traitor to our salt."
For an hour they discussed the best manner of sallying forth in a way
that would leave them unsuspected of robbing. One of their favourite
methods was adopted; to go in a party of twenty or thirty as mendicants
and bearers of the bones of relatives to the waters of the sacred
Ganges. No doubt the yogi would accompany them as their priest,
especially if well paid for the service.
The plot was elaborated on, or rather adapted from past expeditions.
Ajeet would be represented as a petty raja, with his retinue of
servants and his guard. The Gulab Begum would be convincing as a
princess, the wife of the raja. The wife of Sookdee could be a
lady-in-waiting.
As a respectable strong party of holy men, and a prince, they would
gain the confidence of the merchant, even of the _patil_ of the village
where he would rest for a night.
They would send spies into Poona to obtain knowledge of the jewel
merchant's movements. The spies, two men who were happy in the art of
ingratiating themselves into the good graces of prospective victims,
would attach themselves to the merchant's party, and at night slip away
and join the robber band so that they might judge where he would camp
next night; at some village that would be a day's march.
When questioned, the _yogi_ told them where they would find the
merchant; he was stopping with a friend in Poona. So the two set off,
and the Bagrees prepared for their journey.
For the ordeal a cannon ball was needed and a blacksmith to heat it.
And as Hunsa had been the father of the scheme, Sookdee declared that
he must procure these from the Mahratta camp.
Hunsa agreed to this.
The Bagrees were encamped to one side of the Mahratta troops in a small
jungle of _dhak_ and slim-growing bamboos that afforded them privacy.
In negotiating for the loan of a blacksmith Hunsa had impressed upon a
sergeant his sincerity by the gift of two rupees; and two rupees more
to the blacksmith made it certain that the heating of the cannon ball
would not make the test unfair to Hunsa.
A peacock perched high in the feathery top of a giant _sal_ tree was
crying "miaow, miaow!" to the dipping sun when, in the centre of the
Bagree camp the blacksmith, sitting on his haunches in front of a
charcoal fire in which nested the iron cannon ball, fanned the flames
with his pair of goat-skin hand-bellows.
Lots were cast as to which of the two would take the ordeal first, and
it fell to Ajeet. First seven paces were marked off, and Ajeet was
told that he must not run, but take the seven steps as in a walk,
carrying the hot iron on a pipal leaf on his palm.
"This food of the cannon is now hot," the blacksmith declared, dropping
his bellows and grasping a pair of iron tongs.
As Sookdee placed a broad pipal leaf upon the jamadar's palm, Ajeet
repeated in a firm voice: "I take the ordeal. If I am guilty, Maha
Kali, may the sign of thy judgment appear upon my flesh!"
"We are ready," Sookdee declared, and the waiting blacksmith swung the
instrument of justice from its heat in the glowing charcoal to the
outstretched hand of the jamadar.
Hunsa's hungry eyes glowed in pleased viciousness, for the blacksmith
had indeed heated the metal; the green pipal leaf squirmed beneath its
heat like a worm, as Ajeet Singh, with the military stride of a
soldier, took the seven paces.
Then dropping the thing of torture he extended his slim small hand to
Sookdee for inspection.
Hunsa's villainy had worked out. A white rime, like a hoar frost,
fretting the deep red of the scorched skin, that was as delicate as
that on a woman's palm.
Sookdee muttered a pitying cry, and Hunsa declared boastfully: "When
men have evil in their hearts it is known to Bhowanee; behold her sign!"
But Ajeet laughed, saying: "Let Hunsa have the iron; he, too, will know
of its heat."
"Put it again in the fire," declared Sookdee, "for it is an ordeal in
which only the guilty is punished; but the ball must be of the same
heat."
And once more the shot was returned to the charcoal.
Gulab Begum pushed her way rapidly to where the jamadars stood; but
Sookdee objected, saying: "When men appeal to Bhowanee it is not proper
that women should be of the ceremony; it will indeed anger our mother
goddess."
"Thou art a fool, Sookdee," Bootea declared. "The hand of your chief
is in pain though he shows it not in his face. Shall a brave man
suffer because you are without feeling!"
She turned to the Chief. "Here I have cocoanut oil and a bandage of
soft muslin. Hold to me your hand, Ajeet."
"It is not needed, Gulab, star-flower," the Chief declared proudly.
The Gulab had poured from a ram's horn cool soothing cocoanut oil upon
the burns, and then she wrapped about the hand a bandage of shimmering
muslin, bound in a wide strip of silk-like plantain leaf, saying: "This
will keep the oil cool to your wound, Chief; it will not let it dry out
to increase the heat."
There was another band of muslin passed around the leaf, and as the
Gulab turned away, she said: "Think you, Sookdee, that Bhowanee will be
offended because of mercy. Some day, Jamadar, fire will be put upon
your face, when the head has been lopped from your body, to hide the
features of a decoit that it may not bear witness against the tribe."
"You have delayed the ordeal," Sookdee answered surlily, "and because
of that Bhowanee will have anger."
The blacksmith, though pumping with both hands at his pair of bellows,
had felt the impress of the two silver coins in his loin cloth, and,
true to the bribe from Hunsa, had adroitly doctored his fire by dusting
sand here and there so that the shot had lost, instead of gained heat.
Now he cried out: "This kabob of the cannon is cooked, and my arms are
tired whilst you have talked."
Rising he seized his tongs asking, "Who now will have it placed upon
his palm?"
"Put it here," Sookdee said, as he laid a pipal leaf of twice the
thickness he had given Ajeet upon the palm of Hunsa.
Then Hunsa, having repeated the appeal to Bhowanee, strode toward the
goal, and reaching it, cast the iron shot to the ground, holding up his
hand in triumph. His was the hand of a gorilla, thick skinned, rough
and hard like that of a workman, and now it showed no sign of a burning.
"What say you, Ajeet Singh?" Sookdee asked.
"As to the ordeal," the Chief answered, "according to our faith
Bhowanee has spoken. But know you this, though the scar is in my palm,
in my heart is no treachery. As to Hunsa, the ordeal has cleared him
in your minds, and perhaps it is true. We will go forth to the decoity
and what is to be will be. We are but servants of Bhowanee, and if we
make vow to sacrifice a buffalo at her temple perhaps she will keep us
in her protection."
Ajeet knew that he had been tricked somehow, but to dispute the ordeal,
the judgment of the black goddess, would be like an apostacy--it would
turn every Bagree against him--it would be a shatterment of their
tenets. So he said nothing but accepted mutely the decree.
But Bootea's sharp eyes had been busy. She had watched the blacksmith,
to whom Ajeet had paid little attention. In the faces of Hunsa and
Sookdee she had caught flitting expressions of treachery. She knew
that Ajeet had been guiltless of treason to the others, for she had
been close to him. Besides she had, when roused, an imperious temper.
The Bagree women were allowed greater freedom than other women of
Hindustan, even greater freedom than the Mahratta females who, though
they appeared in public unveiled, in the homes were treated as
children, almost as slaves. The Bagree women at times even led gangs
of decoits. Her anger had been roused by Sookdee earlier, and now
rising from where she sat, she strode imperiously forward till she
faced the jamadars:
"Your Chief is too proud to deny this trick that you, Sookdee and
Hunsa, and that accursed labourer of another caste, the blacksmith,
that shoer of Mahratta horses whom Hunsa has bribed, have put upon him
in the name of Bhowanee."
Sookdee stared in affrighted silence, and Hunsa's bellow of rage was
stilled by Ajeet, who whirling upon him, the jade-handled knife in his
grip, commanded: "Still your clamour! The Gulab has but seen the
truth. I, also, know that, but a soldier may not speak as may one of
his women-kind."
There was a sudden hush. A tremor of apprehension had vibrated from
Bagree to Bagree; the jamadars felt it. A spark, one lunge with a
knife, and they would be at each other's throats; the men of Alwar
against the men of Karowlee; even caste against caste, for the Bagrees
from Alwar were of the Solunkee caste, while the Karowlee men were of
Kolee caste.
And there the slim girl form of Bootea stood outlined, a delicate bit
of statuary, like something of marble that had come from the hand of
Praxiteles, the white muslin sari in its gentle clinging folds showing
against the now darkening wall of bamboo jungle. There was something
about the Gulab, magnetic, omnipotent, that subdued men, that enslaved
them; an indescribable subtlety of gentle strength, like the
bronze-blue temper in steel. And her eyes--no one can describe the
compelling eyes of the world, the awful eyes that in their fierce
magnetism act on a man like _bhang_ on a Ghazi or, like the eyes of
Christ, smother him in love and goodness. The _karait_ of India has a
dull red eye without pupil, of which it is the belief that if a man
gaze into it for a time he will go mad. To say that Bootea's eyes were
beautiful was to say nothing, and to describe their compelling force
was impossible.
So as they rested on the sullen eyes of Sookdee he quivered; and the
others stood in silence as Ajeet took Bootea by the arm saying, "Come,
my lotus flower," led her to the tent.
There the jamadar put his sinewy arms about the slender girl, and bent
his handsome face to implant a kiss on her red lips, but she thrust his
arms from her and drew back saying, "No, Ajeet!"
"Why, lotus--why, Gulab? Often from thy lips I have heard that there
is no love in thy heart for any man even for me, but is it not a lie,
the curious lie of a woman who resents a master?"
Ajeet in a mingling of awe and anger had dropped into the formal "thou"
pronoun instead of the familiar "you."
"No, Ajeet, it is the truth; I do not tell lies."
"But out there thou denounced those sons of depraved parents in defence
of Ajeet; thou bound up his hand as a mother dresses the wounds of a
child in her love--even mocked Bhowanee and the ordeal; then sayest
thou there is no love in thy heart for Ajeet."
"There is not; just the tie such as is between us, that is all. I
never learned love--I was but a pawn, a prize. Seest that, Ajeet?" and
Bootea laid a finger upon the iron bracelet on her arm--the badge of a
widow.
Ajeet Singh sneered: "A metal lie, a--"
"Stop!" The girl's voice was almost a scream of expostulation. "To
speak of that means death, thou fool. And thou hast sworn--"
Ajeet's face had blanched. Then a surge of anger re-flushed it.
"Gulab," he said presently, "take care that the love thou say'st is
dead--but which is not, for it never dies in the heart of a woman, it
is but a smouldering fire--take care that it springs not into flame at
the words of some other man, the touch of his hands, or the light of
his eyes, because then, by Bhowanee, I will kill thee."
The Gulab stamped a foot upon the earth floor of the tent: "Coward! now
I hate thee! Only the weak, the cowards, threaten women. When thou
art brave and strong I do not hate if I do not love. 'Tis thou, Ajeet,
who art to take care."
Outside Guru Lal was casting holy oil upon the troubled waters of a
disputed ordeal. The wily old priest knew well how omens and ordeals
could be manipulated. Besides, unity among the Bagree leaders, leading
to much loot, would bring him tribute for the gods.
"It may be," he was saying to Sookdee, "that the blacksmith, who is not
of our tribe, nor of our nine castes, but is of the Sumar caste, has
sought to put shame upon our gods by a trick. At best he was a surly
rascal of little thought. It may be that the iron shot was made too
hot for the hand of the Chief. An ordeal is a fair test when its
observance is equal between men; it is then that the goddess judges and
gives the verdict--her way is always just. Have not we many times read
wrongly her omens, and have misjudged the signs, and have suffered.
And Ajeet acted like one who is not guilty."
"And think you, Guru, that Ajeet will give you a present of rupees for
this talk that is like the braying of an ass?" Hunsa growled.
But Sookdee objected, saying: "Guru Lal is a holy man of age, and his
blood runs without heat, therefore if he speaks, the words are not a
matter for passion, but to be considered. We will go upon a decoity,
which is our duty, and leave the ordeal and all else in the hands of
Bhowanee."