“Siddha Rama,” he said, “with good reason we are content with you, and, to prove it, we name you from to-day Mansabdar over a thousand; show yourself always worthy of our trust and favour.”
A deep colour mounted to Siddha’s face, as silently, according to the usage, he bent his head before the Emperor, in token of his gratitude for this fresh favour. He worthy of Akbar’s confidence! Could there be one in the army that deserved it less? Yet the Emperor had need of his interest and assistance in Kashmir, so that it was not generosity and kindness alone which led to this promotion. Akbar only saw in the confusion of the young warrior an easily explained and praiseworthy modesty at finding himself so openly laden with favours, and nodded to him kindly as he signed to him that he might withdraw.
It was now almost time that the people’s feast should begin, and for it was destined a field not far from the town. Towards it was now streaming from all the streets and along all the roads a brilliantly coloured throng, some on foot, some riding either on horses or richly caparisoned elephants; some, too, were on camels laden with eatables and refreshments of all kinds for the many that cared to take part in the rejoicings. Mingling in the merry crowd were Siddha and his friend Parviz, whom he had met on leaving the palace, and who had heartily congratulated him on his new command.
“And you,” said Siddha, “how go your affairs?”
“You mean my own private ones, do you not?” answered the other, laughing. “On the whole they go on well. Lately I have several times seen her to whom my heart belongs; and, though of course it was in secret, yet I have reasons for suspecting her father, Todar Mal,[7] knew all about it, although he gave himself the airs of knowing nothing. I believe my uncle Faizi has something to do with this favourable change in affairs. ‘May Allah bless him!’ as the pious Abdul Kadir would say.” And here the good Parviz wandered off into a stream of praises of the beauty and virtues of her he loved, which, deeply interesting to him, was not quite so much so for his hearer. However this might be, the one subject occupied the two friends until they reached the spot where the festival was to be held. Here the view was as full of life as that of the court had been, but far fuller of mirth and merriment. Endless numbers moved in lightly coloured groups over the great undulating plain where countless tents, great and small, were pitched. Above all, the elephants with their dark bodies, bright-coloured cloths, and richly ornamented haudas, contrasted picturesquely with the riders and those on foot. The imperial elephants were decorated with golden breast and head plates, set with large smaragds; and their gigantic bodies bore a treasure enough to make the fortune of any simple burgher. On one of these the Mughal himself was seated, and dismounting in a circle of his courtiers, and followed by them, repaired to the spot where the great ceremony of the day was to be celebrated. This ceremonial deserves attention, so strange and impressive was it. Many have endeavoured in different ways to explain what it betokened, but the true meaning has hitherto escaped all historians.[8]
On a little height was erected a large and strong pair of scales, large enough easily to hold a man. One scale was heaped with gold, silver, and precious stones, while the other stood empty, high in the air. On this the Emperor now took his place, in sight of hundreds and thousands of his subjects, who crowded round from all sides; and the other scale was added to or taken from until it exactly balanced the illustrious person of the Great Mughal, who well held his own against the precious metal. It was a pity that other things could not be laid in the scale, such as duty, honour, faith, and enthusiasm for all that is good and beautiful; then surely Akbar would not have been found wanting in the balance. When the weighing was over he stept calmly from the scales, and the gold and silver were distributed amongst the crowd. Towards the end the Emperor mixed among those around him, throwing among the bystanders small golden objects in the form of flowers and fruits, addressing here and there kind and friendly words—confirming many afresh in their conviction that in Akbar the people had not only a great and powerful, but also a benevolent ruler, to whose heart the well-being of his subjects was dearer than his own greatness.
After the grave ceremonies of the day were over, the real festivities began, and every kind of diversion occupied the numberless visitors. Here the jugglers and conjurors displayed their foolish art, and performed feats of strength; there dancers to the sound of monotonous music, and with slow movements, performed their dances; and further on, horsemen at full gallop lifted rings from the ground at the end of their long lances. On one spot was a wonderful and horrible exhibition of two of those beings peculiar to India, who think they combine a religious act with self-torture. They were suspended twenty feet above the ground by means of an iron hook driven into their backs and hung by a rope to a cross-beam.[9] Here, where such a sight was rare, it excited great attention, and Parviz stood gazing at it with interest, very different from Siddha’s indifference, who was well accustomed to such spectacles.
“What can possess the people?” said Parviz to his friend. “It is said they do this prompted by religious fervour; but if so, why do they choose a day of public rejoicing and festivity to exhibit themselves? It is not a pleasant sight, but I cannot understand how it is they appear so at their ease, and so free from pain.”
“Perhaps I can explain it to you,” said Siddha. “You know that such tortures as we are now looking at are considered by our fanatics as meritorious actions, by which heaven may be gained; and those that gaze upon these martyrs, and give them money, participate in the merit; and the more superstitious the people are, so much the greater are the gains. But the secret of their art is not known with certainty, although I believe there are grounds for suspecting how it is done. If I am not deceived, they are always accompanied by women, although they are never seen with them, and these for about half a day before an exhibition pinch them between the shoulder-blades until the spot is without feeling, and the hook can be inserted without causing them any pain.”
“A wonderful kind of pleasantry,” remarked Parviz.