_The Spoiling of Nyagong_
Goor Dutt, the little bullock driver, who was on his way to Moradabad
with the effects of one of the clerks of the Lieutenant-Governor's
office, reached Lal Kooah long after sunset. It was his intention to
travel through the night, but he could not resist the temptation of
joining the circle round the fire in front of the bunnia's hut whilst
his bullocks ate their meal of chaff and chopped hay.
The bunnia had given up his charpoi to Ram Deen, who drove the mail-cart
to Kaladoongie, and who was a man swift of anger and dangerous to cross,
but not altogether hard. Had he not, but three days since, found and
adopted Biroo, the little chamar (tanner) waif, who lay asleep by the
fire with a huge pariah dog stretched beside him?
"Salaam, coach-wan ji," said Goor Dutt, saluting Ram Deen, "I have news
for thee: the Commissioner Sahib hath sent word to the Thanadar of
Kaladoongie that he should make inquiry concerning the finding of
Biroo's father in the well at Nyagong."
"'Tis well, Thwacker of Bullocks. And when goeth the Thanadar thither?"
inquired Ram Deen.
"Belike he is there now."
"Oh, that a man were here to take the mail to Kaladoongie to-night!"
exclaimed Ram Deen.
"The man is here," piped the little carrier, "if some one will tend my
cattle till I return."
"That will I," said the bunnia, with the stress of Ram Deen's eyes on
him.
When the mail-cart drove up Ram Deen took the reins, with Biroo, wrapped
in a blanket, between his knees, whilst Goor Dutt climbed to the back
seat. The big dog, Hasteen, ran beside the mail-cart and woke the jungle
echoes with his bark.
* * * * *
"How didst thou fare last night, coach-wan ji?" asked the bunnia, next
evening.
"As should innocence wronged, and avenging strength."
When none of those sitting round the fire spoke, Ram Deen went on: "As
we came nigh to the path leading to Nyagong, Biroo turned his face
thereto and spat vehemently; and I said, 'Son of mine, canst thou lead
me to Nyagong?' and he replied, 'Of a surety; the path is here.'
"Thereat we got down from the cart--Biroo and I; and I bore the bugle
hanging at my side and a stout bamboo club in my hand. As we picked our
way along the jungle path, Hasteen ran beside us, growling; and when the
moon gave light I saw the crest on his back bristling, and his teeth
gleamed through his lips.
"When we reached Nyagong I put an armful of grass on the fire that was
still smouldering in front of the Jemadar's house, and, as the flame
leaped up, I blew upon my bugle. Straightway the village watchman, who
had been sleeping in his hut, after the manner of his kind, came
running forth bravely; but when he saw who it was that stood by the fire
he salaamed, and whined, saying, 'Great pity 'tis that Ram Deen, Lord of
Leopards, should be put to the trouble--and at this unseasonable
hour!--to return to our village this small villain and budmash, who is
worse than the evil eye.'
"For answer, I felled him to the ground, and Hasteen stood over him. So
he dared not move.
"Then came the Jemadar and the men of the village and stood round us;
and the former said, 'Wah! Ram Deen, coach-wan, is it well to disturb
peaceful folk at night and rouse them from their sleep? What wouldst
thou with us?'
"'Justice to this little one, whose father and mother ye and your people
have slain,' I answered.
"'And what of my son, found dead, and with teeth-marks about his
throat?' he asked.
"'Jemadar Sahib,' I replied, 'Kali Mai gave thy son, her follower,
fitting end. As he lived, so he died. 'Tis well.'
"'Dog!' he exclaimed; 'darest thou to speak thus to me in front of mine
own people?' And he ran upon me.
"So I took him by the beard and laid him at my feet; and the men of
Nyagong feared to help the Jemadar, for Hasteen growled fiercely over
him.
"'Fetch the bunnia,' I demanded; 'and lose no time, O Swine of the
Terai, or I give your Jemadar to the dog.'
"They brought him trembling before me, and he folded his hands and bowed
his head in the dust at my feet, crying, 'Ram dhwy! ram dhwy! the great
and strong are ever merciful. What wouldst thou with me, coach-wan ji?'
"'The bhalee of raw sugar,' I answered, 'from which this man-child's
mother got her death.'
"'She died of Terai fever, Most Worshipful, as the old woman who was
with her will tell thee.'
"'Nevertheless, Biroo and I will go to thy shop with thee, in the matter
of that sugar, whilst the dog seeth to the Jemadar. Proceed.'
"'But, Coach-wan Bahadoor,' said the Jemadar, 'thou wilt not leave me to
be devoured by this beast?'
"'Lie very still, Jemadar Sahib, very still. The dog is a good dog, and
was never known to harm an honest man. But let no one come to thine aid,
lest there be nothing of thee left to take to the burning ghat.'
"'Go away, brothers,' wailed the Jemadar to his people; 'go away, lest
evil befall me.'
"But I said, 'Nay, not so. Stay till I return, O Village Thugs, for I
would speak with ye.'
"At the bunnia's hut Biroo pointed out the bhalee from which he had
received the portion of raw sugar whereof his mother had eaten; but the
bunnia denied, saying that he had already sold all that remained of that
bhalee. So I broke off a piece of it and gave it to the bunnia, saying,
'Eat!' Whereat he clasped my knees, begging for mercy, and I knew Biroo
had not erred.
"'Swine-born!' said I, 'set panniers on thy ass.' And when the ass was
brought to the door of the hut I made the bunnia load it with such
produce as he had, till it could scarce stand.
"'I am fain to borrow fifty rupees of thee, bunnia ji, on behalf of this
motherless child,' I said.
"Whereon he wailed, saying, 'Ram Deen, Compeller of Elephants, there is
not so much money in all the village stalls of the Terai. What I have I
will give thee;' and he laid one rupee and nine annas in my palm and a
handful of cowries.
"'He lieth, my father,' said little Biroo, drawing forth a cocoa-nut
shell from beneath the bunnia's seat,--and it was full of silver!
"'Bap re bap!' moaned the trader, ''tis all I have against mine old age;
and the men of Nyagong despoil me; and my milch cow died last week. Aho!
aho!'
"'It is a very little child, bunnia ji; and consider he hath nor father
nor mother. God will repay thee for thy kind loan to the orphan,' and I
tied the money in the corner of my waistband.
"'But, Ram Deen, Sun of Justice,' whined the bunnia, 'there be one
hundred and thirty-seven rupees, some of it in gold mohurs, in thy
waistband. Take fifty, and return the rest.'
"'Thank Nana Debi, Bunnia Sahib,' I rejoined, 'for having put it in thy
power to do so much more for the fatherless than thou didst first
intend. It will comfort thee in thy old age to think thereon.'
"'But this is robbery,' he said, desperately, 'for which I will have
thee cast in the great prison at Bareilly.'
"'There be gallows there, too,' I retorted, 'for such as put ground
glass in gur, Mea ji. Ho, ho!'
"So he said no more, but, at my command, put panniers on another ass,
which I had in mind to have loaded by the men of Nyagong.
"When we returned to the fire, the dog Hasteen and the Jemadar were as
we had left them; and the Jemadar's teeth shook in his head with fear
and cold. So I called Hasteen to me, and when the Jemadar had risen from
the ground and put his turban on, I spake:
"'O Jemadar, and ye, O men of Nyagong, I would have ye witness that I
brought this bhalee of sugar from the bunnia's stall. Is it not so, O
great mahajun (banker)?'
"And the bunnia assented. So I placed the great lump of raw sugar in a
bag which I had brought from the bunnia's shop. Then, at my bidding and
in the presence of his people, the Jemadar sealed the bag with his seal,
which was well known to the Thanadar of Kaladoongie.
"Then I spake thus to those assembled there: 'Jemadar Sahib, and men of
Nyagong, ye have brought shame on the Kumaon Terai, and, in the eyes of
all men, ye have blackened the faces of those who dwell in this paradise
of God. This child that ye see here--and he is a very little child and
hath nor father nor mother--came amongst ye but a moon since, and ye
slew those who fed and cared for him. And him--his milk-teeth still in
his mouth--ye would have burnt to death in his sleep had Nana Debi and
this dog slept, too. It were a good deed done to burn your huts about
your ears, and give your fields to the wild boar and to the Thanadar of
Kaladoongie, who is my friend and the friend of this little one, and who
would say that a jungle fire had swept your village away; but I am more
merciful than ye. Inasmuch, then, as ye took the bread from this little
one's mouth, and slew his people, it is but right that ye should feed
him, and be his father and his mother. The bunnia hath already made some
small reparation for the sudden taking off of the little one's mother.
What will ye do for him whose hut ye burnt? Or would ye that the
Thanadar of Kaladoongie should ask, or the Commissioner Sahib, he who
can put ropes round the necks of murderers, how it was that the corpse
of this child's father had its hands tied behind its back and a stone
fastened to its feet?'
"Then the Jemadar, clasping suppliant hands, whined, saying, 'Ram Deen,
Rustum of the Terai, gentle as thou art brave and strong! the child's
mother died of Terai fever, as thou knowest; and his worthy father, the
chamar, leaned too far over the edge of the well in drawing up his
lotah, and so fell in. Why speak to us, then, of slaying? We be sorry
for the little chamar, Brahmins though we be, and we would have been
father and mother to him, but he ran away, and the village mourned,
thinking he had fallen a prey to the jackals. To none else but thee
would we give up the boon of rearing him. Brothers,' he went on, turning
to those about him, 'naught can restore a child's father to him, but a
brass lotah with sufficient coin therein, and a necklace of gold and
plum-seeds, such as I will bestow upon him, may help him in time of
need, and, mayhap, resolve the Thanadar not to visit our village. Eh,
coach-wan ji? Brothers, see to it that our much-loved orphan goeth not
empty-handed from the generous village of Nyagong.'
"So it was that the other ass groaned beneath a weight of silver bangles
and toe-rings still warm from the taking off, blankets and hide-sewn
shoes, sweetened tobacco and unbleached cotton cloth, and many a purse
filled with two-anna pieces.
"And when the ass's knees shook, by reason of the load on his back, I
said, 'Men of Nyagong, perchance the Thanadar of Kaladoongie may have an
asthma to-morrow.'
"And one said, 'Of a surety he hath scant breath. Ho, ho!'
"Then I set Biroo upon the second ass; and when we had reached the Bore
Nuddee I blew upon the bugle.
"When the Thanadar of Kaladoongie came out to meet me I put my hand on
Biroo's shoulder, saying, 'Much care awaiteth thee, Thanadar Sahib, in
tending this little budmash, whose merchandise this is. Moreover, he is
a mahajun now, and hath much money to lend.'"