The rest of the band, with the cart and laden bullocks, had proceeded
some way before we overtook them. We passed through a thin jungle for
some distance, emerging from which, we found ourselves on a wild,
bare plain, here and there studded with straggling brushwood. We all
collected together, and, lighting fires, the hooka passed round, and
each one related his achievement, and gloried in the prospect of a
speedy division of the booty we had acquired.
To arrange our future proceedings was by no means an easy matter, as
it was necessary to get past Bassim, where the Sahoukar had friends;
and his cart and bullocks might possibly be recognized in the town. My
father's advice was to travel till daylight, and then to withdraw to
one side of the road, as far from observation as possible; to remain
there as long as we could, and then to push on beyond Bassim. At this
halt, too, there was to be a grand division of the spoil, at least, as
much of it as could be divided; and Hoosein's party was to separate
from us and pursue their road, in the best way they could, in the
direction which has been pointed out to them. Accordingly we again
started, and, after passing some villages, halted about sunrise at some
distance from the road, near a grove of trees, in which there was a
well of water. Before the men betook themselves to cooking their meal,
after the march, they were all assembled; and the quantity of goor
having been brought, the ceremony of the Tupounee was performed as I
have before described. I was now entitled to a seat on the blanket with
the other Bhuttotes--I was their equal! The ceremony ended, I untied
the knot of my handkerchief, as directed by my father, and taking out
the piece of silver, presented it, with some rupees, to my gooroo,
touching his feet at the same time in reverence. This was the last of
my ceremonies of initiation. I was a Bhuttote, had fairly killed my
man, and held myself to be the equal of any of my associates.
After this my father and Hoosein brought forth all the plunder of our
late enterprise. It was magnificent: there was a good quantity of
gold and silver in money, but the principal valuables were the jewels
which the Sahoukar was taking to Hyderabad for sale, and the cloths
and brocades on the bullocks--they were of the richest description.
The distribution of these was a matter of great difficulty, and it was
impossible to satisfy every one; besides, the pearls and diamonds would
have lost a great deal of their value by being divided among the men.
So it was agreed to share the ready money, cooking utensils, and other
effects of the Sahoukar, also the least valuable cloths, into two equal
portions as nearly as possible, in proportion to the number of men of
each band; that my father was to have charge of the jewels, which he
was to sell at Hyderabad to the best advantage, as also of the most
valuable cloths; and that the proceeds of these were not to be divided
until we again reached our place of rendezvous.
The division of the ready money, upwards of three thousand five hundred
rupees, gave to each man a considerable sum, enough, at any rate, to
support him for some time,--the more especially as the share of the
former booty was not nearly expended; for every man lived as frugally
as possible, and all seemed intent upon vying with each other as to
who should have the largest share at the general division. Nay, many
even denied themselves the meanest luxuries, and it was not uncommon
to see a man eating his cakes without ghee, or anything but pure
water. Bhudrinath, however, one of the most skilful of the band, was a
complete exception to what I have said. He was a short, stout, active
fellow, a man who aspired to be a jemadar, and with some reason. I have
mentioned him before as the bearer of the sacred pickaxe. He was one of
the most enterprizing among us, and had conducted small expeditions, in
which he had acquitted himself much to the satisfaction of those who
had intrusted him with them. It was curious to see that man eat. He
consumed every day that he could get it, two seers of flour made into
cakes, a quarter of a seer of ghee (clarified butter), and a large pot
of milk containing upwards of a seer. It seemed impossible that one
man could demolish the pile of cakes when he had baked them and fairly
sat down to eat them, but one by one they disappeared, accompanied by
such draughts of water as would alone have filled any ordinary person.
Towards the end of the pile, however, it was easy to see that his jaws
could hardly perform their office; and it was almost painful to behold
the distension of his stomach: he would stretch himself first on one
side, then on the other; get up and stroke down the mass collected,
apparently from his throat downwards, and again essay to finish what
remained, and after many attempts he would sometimes succeed.
Often have I seen two or more village dogs sit opposite to him, during
the consumption of the mountain of cakes, looking wistfully at it, in
the hope that a portion of each as he ate it might be thrown to them,
watching and envying every mouthful as it passed into the apparently
insatiable maw: but in vain! Sometimes Bhudrinath would divide the
last two or three cakes between them, when every means of eating more
had been tried and had failed; but it was oftener that desire of
eating predominated. He would appear on the point of gratifying the
dogs' expectations,--nay, would even break a piece off and hold it in
his hand as if offering it: the dog would move towards him, but the
coveted morsel disappeared as the rest had done, and he would return
to his expectant station, to resume a watch which too often ended in
disappointment. We often jeered him on his enormous consumption of
food; but he used to declare that nothing under the daily allowance I
have mentioned could satisfy him, or enable him to perform his duty.
Our encampment broke up towards evening. Friends were seen embracing
each other, and wishing mutual success; at length they all departed: we
watched them over the brow of an eminence not far off, and then started
ourselves. Leaving the beaten road to Bassim, we struck off into one
to the left, and as it promised to lead to some large town we followed
it, as well to avoid discovery as to court new adventures. By the light
of a bright moon we travelled most of the night, passing through a
dreary country, in many parts covered with jungle, and never entering
a village save to ask the road, or to get fire to light our hookas.
Indeed we were often repulsed in this. There appeared to be a general
dread of robbers, and the walls and gates were usually manned by armed
men, on the intimation of our approach being given by the dogs as we
passed: but no questions were asked us, as to who we were or where we
were going, although perhaps our numbers might have excited suspicion.
In this manner, and without knowing where the road we had taken would
lead us, we travelled for some days; and as we had purposely avoided
the principal roads, it was not to be expected that we should meet with
anything in the way of adventure, or with any travellers whom we could
entice into our society. At last we came upon a broader road than that
on which we had been travelling; and as we had left every danger from
our late deed far behind us, we determined to follow it, in the hope
that it would lead us towards Hyderabad, or some large village in its
direction, from whence we could get upon a well-travelled road and
carry on our vocation. As it was, we had gained a respectable booty
even for a whole season; but scarcely two months had passed, and we
could not afford to go on so far as Hyderabad in inactivity. The road
led us on for some hours, till large mango groves, with here and there
the white top of a Hindoo temple peeping over them, gave us intimation
that we were approaching a place of consequence. It turned out to be
the town of Oomerkhér, a wealthy place, surrounded with most luxuriant
cultivation of wheat and other descriptions of grain.
"It will be our own fault," said my father, "if we find not some game
here. Having encamped on the other side of the town, the Sothaees must
carefully pass through the bazaars, and this evening may bring us booty
enough to recompense us for staying here."
The duty of a Sotha was one which I had also to learn: men were
even more proud of excelling in it, than in that of a Bhuttote; for
it required the greatest tact and powers of dissimulation, ability
to support characters and disguises, a smooth tongue, and polite
demeanour. Bhudrinath was one who united all in an eminent degree; he
was a short, stout, active man, as I have mentioned, but extremely
handsome, and with a most winning manner. It was his constant boast
that he never marked out a victim whom he did not strangle with his own
hands.
We passed through the town, describing ourselves as merchants from
Hindostan; and as the bales of cloths when stopped by the collector
of tolls were readily shown by my father, and the duty demanded on
them cheerfully paid, our assertion was credited, we were civilly
treated by the authorities, and shown an excellent piece of ground
for our encampment. "Now dress yourself in your best clothes," said
Bhudrinath, "and come with me into the town. Remember, your father is a
merchant, you are a jemadar commanding his escort, I am a bhula-admee
(respectable person) belonging to you; we will take with us Peer Khan,
who although a Lugha is an excellent Sotha, and a respectable fellow
when he is dressed and armed: and it is hard if we do not pick up
somebody."
Our meal was soon cooked and eaten, and after carefully attiring
ourselves we set off into the town to seek for adventures. It
astonished me to see the indifference with which the practised
hands proceeded, considering the object they had in view; for to
me there was as much excitement in this, as in what I had already
learned and practised. I confess our appearance was remarkable. I was
very noticeable from my dress and arms, which were of the richest
description, consistent with the appearance I had assumed. My face,
then much fairer than it is now, Sahib, with a mustachio already well
formed, and a figure which, though perhaps somewhat slender, gave
promise of future strength and power. Contrasted with my companions,
I felt I was superior to them in appearance; and a little pardonable
vanity gave me an air and swagger which were not unfitting the military
profession I had set up. We entered the town, and betook ourselves
to the Chowree, where the kotwal and some respectable persons were
sitting, surrounded by a few armed men as is usual. As we passed by
them we were invited to enter, and received with great politeness. I
was placed in the seat of honour by Bhudrinath, who took his station at
some distance. A desultory conversation began. My father's name was
asked, where he was going, and what he had brought for trade; who we
were, and in short the general object of our journey, by, as they told
us, an unfrequented road, at least from Hindostan. The tone in which
this question was asked seemed to me so suspicious, that I thought for
an instant we were suspected, and I was endeavouring to frame a reply,
when Bhudrinath stopped me.
"I represent," said he, addressing the man who had asked the question,
"that we were set astray at that abode of unsainted people, Nagpoor.
Either with a view to deceive us, or (God knows it may be so, I have
heard of such things) perhaps of robbing us, persons from whom we asked
information, told us the best and most frequented road was by this
place; and truly the town you have the fortune to dwell in is a place
of great beauty and fertility, and is evidently in the hands of a most
wise governor, and one who protects his people. How, Jemadar Sahib,
have I not said truly?"
"Indeed," said I, "you have; and the kindness we have as yet met
with shows that the servants of the governor are worthy of their
master. Truly it is not to be wondered at if the town is prosperous
and beautiful in such hands; and such is the mellifluous speech of
the kotwal, that we are impressed with the greatest opinion of the
discernment of the exalted person who has selected him."
"May your condescension never diminish," said the kotwal; "your slave
is not worthy of these encomiums; he is less than the least. If my lord
could but see the dispenser of benefits under whose beams he lives,
he would indeed say that the court of Hyderabad is worthy of being
compared with any in Hindostan, as having formed such a pattern of
excellence."
"Well," said I, "we shall only be too glad to lay our nuzzurs at the
feet of this patron of yours, and no doubt we shall see in him a
pattern of noblemen, a specimen of what we may expect to see at the
capital of the Dukhun. When may we hope to be admitted to the presence?"
"In the evening, after prayers," replied our acquaintance; "it is then
that justice is dispensed to these poor unbelieving cultivators, and
the durbar is enlivened by the presence and heavenly music of a set of
dancing-women, whom my lord has brought with him from the city."
"We will come," said I; "and I pray you to give your lord notice
that we have accepted your invitation to visit him; nay, that we are
desirous of paying our respects to him."
As I finished speaking, an elderly man of decent appearance had entered
the Chowree; he was a Hindoo, and looked like a merchant. He demanded,
in rather a peremptory tone, a place to rest in, declaring, that if he
did not get it immediately, he would go and complain to the ruler of
the town. The spirit of the old kotwal seemed to be roused by the man's
behaviour, and he declared in round terms that he would not give a foot
of ground, or an empty shop, without he was civilly asked.
"Look you, gentlemen," said he to us; "I ask you to decide between us;
I swear by the Prophet, I care no more than a snap of my fingers for
him; I have seen twenty thousand better; and if he goes to complain,
why let him go; he will be driven from the presence with stripes.
People like him come in hundreds every day, and who can trouble
themselves in looking after them?"
"You and your master may be the portion of the devil," said the old
merchant; "ever since I have entered the territories of the Nizam, I
have been treated in this manner. But it is only what I have heard
before; not a night have I passed without an alarm of thieves; and
God knows, if I had any protection, I would rather lie outside your
wretched walls, than in the zenana of your amil himself. Your bunneas
are rascals: I am refused grain at nearly double the price I paid
yesterday; I am refused shelter at night. In God's name, what am I to
do? Gentlemen," cried he to us, "what am I to do?"
Bhudrinath answered, as I was going to speak, and, to my astonishment,
angrily. "What would you have? O discontented man! I suppose some place
has been offered to you, and you have thought it not good enough; or
are you drunk with opium? or has hunger after your journey spoilt your
temper? Go, betake yourself to the bazar; be thankful that you can get
any place; and, if no one will shelter you, lie in the street; bethink
yourself that many a better man has done so before you."
The man stood aghast: he looked first at us, then at the kotwal and his
men, while expressions of delight at his discomfiture ran through the
kotwal's party: "Well said!" "Proper fellows!" "He ought to be turned
out of the village," &c. At last, without saying a word, he threw down
his turban and ran out, bellowing as loud as he could. We all burst
into a hearty fit of laughter.
"That is a queer fellow," said I to the kotwal; "I doubt not you have
often such to plague you; but send for him back, we will make him
ashamed of himself, and I will beg you to give him a place to stay in."
"As you will," replied he; "but for your intercession I should not have
troubled myself about him. Many such have I to deal with. One day a
fellow comes swearing he is cheated by every one; another, that he can
get nothing to eat, when perhaps both are too stingy to buy; another,
that he has no shelter, when he will not pay the trifle demanded by the
bunnea for the use of his shop. Again, a third must have every delicacy
to be found in a city, and he is furious because he cannot get them;
when, if they were all before him, he could not afford to buy one. In
short, sirs, there is no end to the fancies, foolishnesses, and, I may
say, tyranny, of travellers, and who think me, I suppose, to possess
superhuman power, and to have jins (genii) at my command, to bring them
whatever their foolish ideas may desire."
"You have indeed no easy situation, and to please every one is
impossible," said I; "but here comes the merchant,"--and he entered.
"Take up your turban, good fellow," said the kotwal, "and do not be
angry; you are no child to be quarrelling with decent people. Have you
never travelled before, that you should be angry and throw dust on our
beards in this manner? In God's name, take up your turban; and do some
one of you go and see that the good man gets a place for himself."
The man looked irresolute for an instant, then took up the turban, and
walked sulkily out, accompanied by the person desired to attend him.
Bhudrinath gave me a sign, and we took our leave. We had scarcely got
out, when he said, "That man is ours; now see how I will manage him.
I dare say he has but few persons with him, and he will be easily
disposed of."
We kept our eye on him and his attendant, and watched him take
possession of a shed of wretched appearance, with many symptoms of
dissatisfaction. We loitered purposely, till we saw that he was alone,
and then went up to him.
"Ram! Ram! Séthjee," said Bhudrinath, addressing him; "what a place
is this they have put you into after all, not fit for hogs to lie in!
That rascally kotwal, for all his smooth tongue, is an arrant knave,
I warrant; and I have heard," continued he, lowering his voice, "that
he has in his employ a number of thieves, whose business it is to cut
away travellers' saddle-bags from under their heads at night, and when
the poor man goes to complain in the morning, he is beaten out of the
village. Did we not hear so, Jemadar Sahib?"
"Yes, indeed," said I; "don't you remember the man who met us at the
village some coss from this, and warned us of the thieves of Oomerkhér,
and said he had been robbed of everything he possessed, and then driven
out with scarcely a rag to cover him? It was then that I determined to
encamp outside, where we might have our own sentinels, and where, if we
were robbed, it would be our own fault."
"God help me! I am a lost man!" cried the merchant; "I know not what
to do;" and he beat his head with his clenched hand. "In those bags
is all I am worth in the world; I fled from Surat to save myself from
oppression, and it appears that the further I fly the worse usage I
meet. It was only two nights ago--after watching till my eyes nearly
started from my head from want of sleep, and, not being able to sit
longer, I lay down and my eyes closed--that an attempt was made to
cut my bags from under me; and, as I awoke, the thieves snatched away
two of my cooking utensils and the cloth I had about me. What could
I do? Had I run after them, some fellow would have been off with my
bags; so I sat still, and screamed for help. The villagers were soon
assembled about me, and when I told them what had happened, a villain,
who called himself the patel, abused me for defaming his village; and I
was actually thrust without the gates, and left to pursue my way in the
dark, in momentary dread that I should be pursued, and perhaps robbed
and murdered. Oh, my unhappy fate!" cried he; "what will it not lead
me to! Fool that I was to leave my own country, to become the sport of
unblessed brutes, such as I have met in this wild country."
"Well," said Bhudrinath in a compassionate tone, "you have been used
very ill, and you ought to go and complain to the Hakim here; report
says he is a just man, although those under him may be thieves and
rascals."
"No, no, no!" cried the man; "go and complain! and be fleeced of my
last rupee! The great man would require a nuzzur, and every dependent
would ask for one; did I dare to refuse, my situation would be worse
than it is now. No, no! I have not been robbed as yet, and please God,
if I could only get out of this town, I would attach myself to some
party of respectable persons going the same road."
Bhudrinath turned to me, and took me a few paces aside. "The bait has
taken," said he; "our net is now around him; you must draw it tightly."
"How?"----"By inviting him to our encampment; I will propose it,
and you shall pretend to disagree at first, and then, after some
persuasion, consent. Do you understand?"
"I do," and we turned back.
Bhudrinath again addressed him, while I turned away. "Séthjee," said
he, "you are a man in misfortune, and if we don't help you out of this
place you will assuredly be robbed of everything you possess. You must
come and put up in our encampment; that is to say, if the Jemadar Sahib
will permit it: but the truth is, we are very careful, and allow no
one to approach it, as we are escorting a merchant from Benares to
Hyderabad, who has a large amount of goods with him."
"For God's sake! for the sake of your father and mother!" cried the
poor wretch, "for the sake of your children, intercede for me! do not
suffer me to be robbed and murdered here. Ai! Jemadar Sahib," he said
to me, catching me by my dress, "you are my father and my mother; a
word from you, and I am safe, and my poor merchandize will reach its
destination. God knows, if anything happens to me on the road, my house
will be made desolate, my employers will seize my wife and children.
Jemadar, you can protect me from this; you can save my life from these
fears, which make me most wretched, and are consuming my soul!"
"Thooh! good man," cried I, spitting on the ground, "do not be so
abject. Inshalla! I am able by God's favour to afford protection to
one who is a prince among merchants, and you are too poor to think of.
In His name follow us, and we will take care of you; we are going to
Hyderabad ourselves, and you can remain among the servants; do you,
Peer Khan, bring this man out to us."
Peer Khan remained, and we returned to our camp. On the way we
determined that he should die before evening, or when it should become
dusk, and we would then go into the town and visit the evening durbar
of the Hakim. In a short time we beheld the merchant, and Peer Khan,
with another man, driving two ponies apparently heavily laden towards
our camp.
"Come, this is more than I hoped for," said my father, "there are two
of them; and two ponies well laden must afford something worth taking:
we cannot expect this to be as profitable work as the last, but much
may come out of it."
The men approached, and the merchant was presented to my father. "To
your kindness," he said to me, "I owe all I possess, and if these
poor bags might but be allowed to remain along with the rest of the
merchandize you are protecting, it would increase the favour and they
would be safe."
"Surely," I replied, "you can unload your beasts; and there is the pile
of goods, you can put your bags on the top of it."
It was curious to see the behaviour of the men of the band; they
appeared to have an instinctive knowledge of the purpose for which
the men had been brought into the encampment. They did not evince
the smallest savageness of demeanour, as perhaps might have been
expected; on the contrary, every one was most civil and attentive to
the strangers; one offered to rub down the ponies, another to make a
place for cooking, a third to bring grass from the town, or anything
they might require for their meal. In a short time we observed the
appearance of care and anxiety on the face of the merchant to give
place to a cheerful expression, and long before evening both the
men were among a knot of the Thugs, listening to their stories, and
themselves relating their adventures. Little did they think what
preparations were making, and that in a few short hours they would
cease to be counted with the living.