CHAPTER VII
Perhaps it was the customs official that told Dewan Sewlal about the Akbar Ka Diwa, the Lamp of Akbar, the ruby that was so called because of its gorgeous blood-red fire, as being in the iron box of the merchant.
This ruby had been an eye in one of the two gorgeous jewelled peacocks that surmounted the "Peacock Throne" at Delhi in the time of Akbar to the time when the Persian conqueror, Nadir Shah, sacked Delhi and took the Peacock Throne and the Kohinoor, and everything else of value back to Persia. But he didn't get the ruby for the Vizier of the King of Delhi stole it. Then Alam, the eunuch, stole it from the Vizier. Its possession was desirable, not only because of its great value as a jewel, but because it held in its satanic glitter an unearthly power, either of preservation to its holder or malignant evil against his enemies.
At any rate Sewlal sent for Hunsa the night of the ordeal and explained to him, somewhat casually, that a jewel merchant passing through Mahrattaland had in his collection a ruby of no great value, but a stone that he would like to become possessed of because a ruby was his lucky gem. The Dewan intimated that Hunsa would get a nice private reward for this particular gem, if by chance he could, quite secretly, procure it for him.
Next day was a busy one in the Bagree camp.
Having followed the profession of decoits and thugs for generations it was with them a fine art; unlimited pains were taken over every detail. As it had been decided that they would go as a party of mendicants and bearers of family bones to Mother Ganges, there were many things to provide to carry out the masquerade—stage properties, as it were; red bags for the bones of females, and white bags for those of the males.
In two days one of the spies came with word that Ragganath, the merchant, had started on his journey, riding in a covered cart drawn by two of the slim, silk-skinned trotting bullocks, and was accompanied by six men, servants and guards; on the second night he would encamp at Sarorra. So a start was made the next morning.
Sookdee, Ajeet Singh, and Hunsa, accompanied by twenty men, and Gulab Begum took the road, the Gulab travelling in an enclosed cart as befitted the favourite of a raja, and with her rode the wife of Sookdee as her maid.
Ajeet rode a Marwari stallion, a black, roach-crested brute, with bad hocks and an evil eye. The Ajeet sat his horse a convincing figure, a Rajput Raja.
Beneath a rich purple coat gleamed, like silver tracery, his steel shirt-of-mail; through his sash of red silk was thrust a straight-bladed sword, and from the top of his turban of blue-and-gold-thread, peeped a red cap with dangling tassel of gold.
In the afternoon of the second day the Bagrees came to the village of
Sarorra.
"We will camp here," the leader commanded, "close to the mango tope through which we have just passed, then we will summon the headman, and if he is as such accursed officials are, the holy one, the yogi, will cast upon him and his people a curse; also I will threaten him with the loss of his ears."
"The one who is to be destroyed has not yet come," Hunsa declared, "for here is what these dogs of villagers call a place of rest though it is but an open field."
Ajeet turned upon the jamadar: "The one who is to be destroyed, say you, Hunsa? Who spoke in council that the merchant was to be killed? We are men of decoity, we rob these fat pirates who rob the poor, but we take life only when it is necessary to save our own."
"And when a robbed one who has power, such as rich merchants have, make complaint and give names, the powers take from us our profit and cast us into jail," Hunsa retorted.
"And forget not, Ajeet, that we are here among the Mahrattas far from our own forests that we can escape into if there is outcry," Sookdee interjected. "If the voices are hushed and the bodies buried beneath where we cook our food, there will be only silence till we are safe back in Karowlee. The Dewan will not protect us if there is an outcry—he will deny that he has promised protection."
The Bagrees were already busy preparing the camp, the camp of a supposed party of men on a sacred mission.
It was like the locating of a circus. The tents they had brought stood gaudily in the hot sun, some white and some of cotton cloth dyed in brilliant colours, red, and blue, and yellow. In front of Ajeet's tent a bamboo pole was planted, from the top of which floated a red flag carrying a figure of the monkey god, Hanuman, embroidered in green and yellow.
The red and white bags carrying bones, which were supposed to be the bones of defunct relatives, were suspended from tripods of bamboo to preserve them from the pollution of the soil.
And presently three big drums, Nakaras, were arranged in front of the yogi's tent, and were being beaten by strong-armed drummers, while a conch shell blared forth a discordant note that was supposed to be pleasing to the gods.
Some of the Bagrees issued from their tents having suddenly become canonised, metamorphosed from highwaymen to devout yogis, their bodies, looking curiously lean and ascetic, now clothed largely in ashes and paint.
"Go you, Hunsa," Ajeet commanded, "into this depraved village and summon the patil to come forth and pay to the sainted yogi the usual gift of one rupee four annas, and make his salaams. Also he is to provide fowl and fruits for us who are on this sacred mission. He may be a son of swine, such as the lord of a village is, so speak, Jamadar, of the swords the Raja's guards carry. Say nothing as to the expected one, but let your eyes do all the questioning."
Hunsa departed on his mission, and even then the villagers could be seen assembled between the Bagrees and the mud huts, watching curiously the encampment.
"Sookdee," Ajeet said, "if we can rouse the anger of the patil—"
The Jamadar laughed. "If you insist upon the payment of silver you will accomplish that, Ajeet."
Ajeet touched his slim fingers to Sookdee's arm: "Do not forget, Jamadar—call me Raja. But as to the village; if we anger them they will not entertain the merchant; they will not let him rest in the village. And also if they are of an evil temper we will warn the merchant that they are thieves who will cut his throat and rob him. We will give him the protection of our numbers."
"If the merchant is fat—and when they attain wealth they always become fat—he will be happy with us, Raja, thinking perhaps that he will escape a gift of money the patil would exact."
"Yes," Ajeet Singh answered, "we will ask him for nothing when he departs."
After a time Hunsa was seen approaching, and with him the grey-whiskered patil.
The latter was a commoner. He suggested a black-faced, grey-whiskered monkey of the jungles. Indeed the pair were an anthropoid couple, Hunsa the gorilla, and the headman an ape. Behind them straggled a dozen villagers, men armed with long ironwood sticks of combat.
The headman salaamed the yogi and Ajeet, saying, "This is but a poor place for holy men and the Raja to rest, for the water is bad and famine is upon us."
"A liar, and the son of a wild ass," declared Ajeet promptly. "Give to this saint the gift of silver, lest he put the anger of Kali upon you, and call upon her of the fiery furnace in the sacred hills to destroy your houses. Also send fowl and grain, and think yourself favoured of Kali that you make offering to such a holy one, and to a Raja who is in favour with Sindhia."
But the villager had no intention of parting with worldly goods if he could get out of it. He expostulated, enlarged upon his poverty, rubbed dust upon his forehead, and called upon the gods to destroy him if he had a breakfast in the whole village for himself and people, declaring solemnly; "By my Junwa!"—though he wore no sacred thread,—"there is no food for man or horse in the village." Then he waxed angry, asking indignantly, who were these stragglers upon the road that they should come to him, an official of the Peshwa, to demand tribute; he would have them destroyed. Beyond, not two kos away, were a thousand soldiers,—which was a gorgeous lie,—who if he but sent a messenger would come and behead the lot, would cast the sacred bones in the gaudy bags upon the dunghill of the village bullocks.
"To-morrow, monkey-man, the gift will be doubled," Ajeet answered calmly, "for that is the law, and you know it."
But the patil, thinking there would be little fight in a party of pilgrims and mendicants, called to his stickmen to bring help and they would beat these insolent ones and drive them on their way.
"Take the yogi, Hunsa," Ajeet said, "and the men that have the fire-powder and throw it upon the thatched roof of a hut in the way of a visitation from the gods, because this ape will not leave us in peace for our mission until he is subdued."
In obedience as Hunsa and the yogi moved toward the village, the patil cried. "Where go you?"
"We go with a message from the gods to you who offer insult to a holy one."
The villagers armed with sticks, retreated slowly before the yogi, dreading to offer harm to the sainted one. Muttering his curses, his iron tongs clanking at every step, the yogi strode to the first mud-wall huts, and there raising his voice cried aloud: "Maha Kalil consume the houses of these men of an evil heart who would deny the offering to Thee."
Then at a wave of his skeleton arm the two men threw upon the thatched roof of a hut a grey preparation of gunpowder which was but a pyrotechnical trick, and immediately the thatch burst into flames.
"There, accursed ones—unbelievers! Kali has spoken!" the yogi declared solemnly, and turning on his heels went back to the camp.
The headman and his men, with howls of dismay, rushed back to stop the conflagration. And just then the jewel merchant arrived in his cart. The curtains of the canopy were thrown back and the fat Hindu sat blinking his owl eyes in consternation. At sight of Ajeet he descended, salaamed, and asked:
"Has there been a decoity in the village—is it war and bloodshed?"
Ajeet assumed the haughty condescending manner of a Rajput prince, and explained, with a fair scope of imagination that the patil was a man of ungovernable temper who gave protection to thieves and outlaws, that the village itself was a nest for them. That two of his servants, having gone into the village to purchase food, had been set upon, beaten and robbed; that the conflagration had been caused by the fire from a gun that one of the debased villagers had poked through a hole in the roof to shoot his servants.
"As my name is Ragganath, it is a visitation upon these scoundrels," the merchant declared.
"It is indeed, Sethjee."
Ajeet had diplomatically used the "Sethjee," which was a friendly rendering of the name "Seth," meaning "a merchant," and the wily Hindu, not to be outdone in courtesy, promoted Ajeet.
"Such an outrage, Maharaja, on the part of these low-caste people in the presence of the sainted one, and the pilgrims upon such a sacred mission to Mother Gunga, has brought upon them the wrath of the gods. May the village be destroyed; and the patil when he dies come back to earth a snake, to crawl upon his belly."
"The headman even refused to give the holy one the gift of silver—tendering instead threats," Ajeet added.
The merchant spat his contempt: "Wretches!" he declared; "debased associates of skinners of dead animals, and scrapers of skulls; Bah!" and he spat again. "And to think but for the Presence having arrived here first I most assuredly would have gone into the village, and perhaps have been slain for my—"
He stopped and rolled his eyes apprehensively. He had been on the point of mentioning his jewels, but, though he was amongst saints and kings, he suddenly remembered the danger.
"We would not have camped here," Ajeet declared, "had we not been a strong party, because this village has an evil reputation. You have been favoured by the gods in finding honest men in the way of protection, and, no doubt, it is because you are one who makes offerings to the deity."
"And if the Maharaja will suffer the presence of a poor merchant, who is but a shopkeeper, I will rest here in his protection."
Ajeet Singh graciously consented to this, and the merchant commanded his men to erect his small tent beneath the limbs of the deep green mango trees.
The decoits watched closely the transport of the merchant's effects from the cart to the tent. When a strong iron box, that was an evident weight for its two carriers, was borne first their eyes glistened. Therein was the wealth of jewels the flying horsemen of the night had whispered to the yogi about.