Life in the Eagle's Nest

by A. L. O. E.

"Leave him alone," said the young man. "I trow he is the son of the Santgunge Padri, who has shown kindness ere now to Afghans.

"I would not leave him the rag, Ali Khan," cried the man, "if it were fit for my wear. I shall find something better worth having yonder," and off he rushed to join the group who were ransacking Denis's trunk.

Walter was glad indeed to retain his garment, and with it his little Testament, and the leaves of his father's translation, to him a treasure more precious than gold. He, however, had his arms bound behind him, and received his share of Moslem abuse, in which Ali Khan did not join. The captives were witnesses to the glee with which their property was disposed of, not without a considerable amount of loud talking and wrangling over the spoils. The muleteers had fled at the first alarm; their animals were, of course, the booty of the captors. Two Afghans mounted on Denis's horse; how he longed to see it plunge and throw them! The trunks were cut open with daggers, and rudely emptied of their contents. There was a fierce scramble for the gold and silver; a bottle of brandy was surreptitiously carried off beneath the blanket of a follower of the False Prophet, a mountaineer who had learnt to appreciate the fiery poison. Denis's fine embroidered shirts caused a great amount of mirth, and were pulled over kurtas (vests) that had been worn day and night unchanged for years.

When the work of pillage was over, the prisoners were made to rise and accompany their captors to the copse in which Sultána had had her adventure. They were led through it to a steep and precipitous path which was familiar to the Pathans. With their hands bound behind them it was almost impossible for the Europeans to climb so rude an ascent, though both were agile men; but when they paused they were pushed and kicked by the Afghans behind them.

"You must have the use of your hands, Feringhee," said Ali Khan, cutting Walter's cords with his knife.

"Show the same mercy to my unfortunate friend, brave youth!" cried Walter, the sufferings of Denis distressing him more than his own.

"He has shed the blood of my kinsmen; he shall never find mercy from me!" was the stern reply of Ali Khan. "He is like the wild beast that struggles and bites when caught in the snare; thou art calm as a man who submits to fate."

It was a matter of surprise to Walter himself, as well as to the young mountaineer, that he could preserve such composure under circumstances so painful. We need not seek far for the cause of such calmness. One who habitually looks to the fiery cloudy pillar for guidance, finds that it gives light in the darkest night of trial, shade under the fiercest glow of temptation. All that the Christian holds most dear is beyond the reach of robbers; he can never lose his all. What marvel if that man is patient who knows that all things work together for his good,—and brave when assured that death itself is but the angel that uncloses the gate of paradise.

It was far otherwise with the miserable Denis, who, on account of his bonds, was utterly unable to keep up with Walter and the foremost Afghans, who soon passed beyond his view. As he could not help himself with his hands, his tumbles and slips on a path which at some places "scarce gave footing for the goat," afforded his tormentors a cause for mirth and added brutality. When, after a painful fall of several feet, Denis obstinately refused to move, he was goaded to stagger again to his feet by the points of daggers.

"Hell itself could not be worse than this! Hell must be like this!" groaned the tortured man. "The company of tormenting demons, the memory of past joys lost for ever, and the fierce anguish of knowing that my own mad folly has brought me to this,—earth has no misery like mine." Passages from Scripture hardly ever recurred to the mind of the spoilt child of fortune; but in his anguish Denis did think of one who had been clothed in purple and fine linen, one who had fared sumptuously every day, and at last had to make his bed in the flames. The idea did flash across Denis's mind, "My fate is something like his."