[CHAPTER XLV.]
Four days passed, and the merchant was still in our company. He was slightly attended, and we could have terminated his existence whenever we pleased; but we were anxious to carry him on as much of the journey as we could, and to baffle any traces of our route, by turning to the right and left, away from the regular tracks, and by footpaths and byways only known to ourselves. Yet we had got far enough, and I knew that the next day's march would lead us through a jungle, which was one of our favourite bhils, and where I had from the first determined that he should die.
We were on the road early on the fifth morning, and as before (indeed, as was my wont) I was riding at the head of my party. It was now daylight, but we were entering the jungle, and I was merry in my heart to think that he was in my power, and that a large and valuable booty would be our prize in the course of a short hour, when I saw an animal move in the bushes on my right hand. Another instant, and a hare again crossed my path! I laughed within myself. Fools that they are, thought I, these brethren of mine! no Jemadar but myself would dare to pursue this track after so dire an omen; himself and his whole band would fly, as though a hundred tigers were in their path, and would leave their bunij to escape, or to follow them, as his destiny might guide him. But I!—I laugh at it: once I have proved that the omen is harmless, and shall it deter me now? Ah, no, no! my game is sure, and within my grasp.
And so it was. Sahib, we had not gone a coss, when I saw the place I had determined on; and there the merchant died and his two servants. Yes, he died by my own hand. I pulled him off his pony and strangled him; and the servants were cared for by the others, but not before one of them had cut down one of my men; for in my eagerness to possess myself of the prize before me, I had not seen that the servants of the merchant could observe my actions. The poor fellow who had fallen was dreadfully wounded; yet he still breathed. What to do with him I knew not: we could not wait, and to transport him with us was out of the question.
"What shall we do with Anundee?" said I to Laloo: "we are far from our stage, and we cannot, with our large party, say we have fallen among thieves."
He solved my doubts at once. "Put him out of his pain," said he; "the man is dying: what matters another thrust? he can be buried with the rest. The men might not like it if they saw it, but all here are engaged, and most of the band have gone on. We can wrap him up in his sheet afterwards."
I drew my sword and stepped towards the dying wretch; he looked supplicatingly towards me and strove to speak, but my heart was hard. I was sickened by the deed I had done, and I prayed Alla to forgive me the blood of the miserable creature.
Wretch! said I—interrupting Ameer Ali—and you murdered your own companion, your brother to whom you were sworn?
I did, Sahib, I did; yet why call it murder? He would have died in a short time; I did but rid him of his misery.
It was a foul deed, Ameer Ali; and one that haunts your memory, I doubt not.