On his return he informed me that he had learned exactly where Shah Sawar and his men were encamped, and proposed that he should go out and confer with him.
At first I refused point-blank. Idu could not go on bearing a charmed life, and Shah Sawar was a treacherous scoundrel. I pointed out that even if Shah Sawar did not kill him he might take and keep him prisoner, and I could not possibly do without him. His loss would be irreparable.
Idu was obviously pleased and flattered at my appreciation of him, but persisted that his was the wiser plan.
"You have seen, again and again, Sahib, that what I have told you is always true. No Sarhadi will break his oath of safe conduct to an enemy."
"I know," I replied. "But you have not got that promise from Shah Sawar, and without it I will not let you go."
Idu, who had the utmost faith in his own powers of persuasion, was not to be done. He argued that it would be easy enough to bribe one of the Khwashis, encamped outside, to go over to Shah Sawar and get the necessary safe conduct.
At last, and with great reluctance, I consented, provided Shah Sawar sent every assurance and guarantee that there would be no treachery if Idu went as an emissary.
In due course these assurances arrived. I had, therefore, to keep my word to Idu, and give my consent, though, even then, I did not trust Shah Sawar. However, once again Idu's confidence in that one, all-sacred law of hospitality was justified.
From my tower I watched him start, but he was very quickly lost to view amongst the sand dunes and fields with their tall-grown crops which lay between the fort and Shah Sawar's camp, some three miles distant.
He was away something like three hours, and I was beginning to get desperately anxious, when, to my great relief, I saw him ambling back on his Mari.