My lord has saved my daughters life, and mine is at his service henceforth, the man said. The mouse is a small beast, but he may warn the lion. The white sahibs are brave and strong. Would one of my countrymen have ventured his life to attack a tiger, armed only with a whip, for the sake of the life of a poor wayfarer?
Yes, I think there are many who would have done so, Bathurst replied. You do your countrymen injustice. There are plenty of brave men among them, and I have heard before now of villagers, armed only with sticks, attacking a tiger who has carried off a victim from among them. You yourself were standing boldly before it when I came up.
My child was under its feetbesides, I never thought of myself. If I had had a weapon I should not have drawn it. I had no thought of the tiger; I only thought that my child was dead. She works with me, sahib; since her mother died, five years ago, we have traveled together over the country; she plays while I conjure. She takes round the saucer for the money, and she acts with me in the tricks that require two persons; it is she who disappears from the basket. We are everything to each other, sahib. But what is my lords name? Will he tell his servant, that he and Rabda may think of him and talk of him as they tramp the roads together?
My name is Ralph Bathurst. I am District Officer at Deennugghur. How far are you going this evening?
We shall sleep at the first village we come to, sahib; we have walked many hours today, and this box, though its contents are not weighty, is heavy to bear. We thought of going down tomorrow to Deennugghur, and showing our performances to the sahib logue there.
Very well; but there is one thingwhat is your name?
Rujub.
Well, Rujub, if you go on to Deennugghur tomorrow say nothing to anyone there about this affair with the tiger; it is nothing to talk about. I am not a shikari, but a hard working official, and I dont want to be talked about.
The sahibs wish shall be obeyed, the man said.
You can come round to my bungalow and ask for me; I shall be glad to hear whether your daughter is any the worse for her scare. How do you feel, Rabda?
I feel as one in a dream, sahib. I saw a great yellow beast springing through the air, and I cried out, and knew nothing more till I saw the sahibs face; and now I have heard him and my father talking, but their voices sound to me as if far away, though I know that you are holding me.
You will be all the better after a nights rest, child; no wonder you feel strange and shaken. Another quarter of an hour and we shall be at the village. I suppose, Rujub, you were born a conjurer.
Yes, sahib, it is always so; it goes down from father to son. As soon as I was able to walk, I began to work with my father, and as I grew up he initiated me in the secrets of our craft, which we may never divulge.
No, I know they are a mystery. Many of your tricks can be done by our conjurers at home, but there are some that have never been solved.
I have been offered, more than once, large sums by English sahibs to tell them how some of the feats were done, but I could not; we are bound by terrible oaths, and; in no case has a juggler proved false to them. Were one to do so he would be slain without mercy, and his fate in the next world would be terrible; forever and forever his soul would pass through the bodies of the foulest and lowest creatures, and there would be no forgiveness for him. I would give my life for the sahib, but even to him I would not divulge our mysteries.
In a few minutes they came to the first village beyond the jungle. As they approached it Bathurst checked his horse and lifted the girl down. She took his hand and pressed her forehead to it.
I shall see you tomorrow, then, Rujub, he said, and shaking the reins, went on at a canter.
That is a new character for me to come out in, he said bitterly; I do not know myselfI, of all men. But there was no bravery in it; it never occurred to me to be afraid; I just thrashed him off as I should beat off a dog who was killing a lamb; there was no noise, and it is noise that frightens me; if the brute had roared I should assuredly have run; I know it would have been so; I could not have helped it to have saved my life. It is an awful curse that I am not as other men, and that I tremble and shake like a girl at the sound of firearms. It would have been better if I had been killed by the first shot fired in the Punjaub eight years ago, or if I had blown my brains out at the end of the day. Good Heavens! what have I suffered since. But I will not think of it. Thank God, I have got my work; and as long as I keep my thoughts on that there is no room for that other; and then, by a great effort of will, Ralph Bathurst put the past behind him, and concentrated his thoughts on the work on which he had been that day engaged.
The juggler did not arrive on the following evening as he had expected, but late in the afternoon a native boy brought in a message from him, saying that his daughter was too shaken and ill to travel, but that they would come when she recovered.
A week later, on returning from a long days work, Bathurst was told that a juggler was in the veranda waiting to see him.
I told him, sahib, the servant said, that you cared not for such entertainments, and that he had better go elsewhere; but he insisted that you yourself had told him to come, and so I let him wait.
Has he a girl with him, Jafur?
Yes, sahib.
Bathurst strolled round to the other side of the bungalow, where Rujub was sitting patiently, with Rabda wrapped in her blue cloth beside him. They rose to their feet.
I am glad to see your daughter is better again, Rujub.
She is better, sahib; she has had fever, but is restored.
I cannot see your juggling tonight, Rujub. I have had a heavy days work, and am worn out, and have still much to do. You had better go round to some of the other bungalows; though I dont think you will do much this evening, for there is a dinner party at the Collectors, and almost everyone will be there. My servants will give you food, and I shall be off at seven oclock in the morning, but shall be glad to see you before I start. Are you in want of money? and he put his hand in his pocket.
No, sahib, the juggler said. We have money sufficient for all our wants; we are not thinking of performing tonight, for Rabda is not equal to it. Before sunrise we shall be on our way again; I must be at Cawnpore, and we have delayed too long already. Could you give us but half an hour tonight, sahib; we will come at any hour you like. I would show you things that few Englishmen have seen. Not mere common tricks, sahib, but mysteries such as are known to few even of us. Do not say no, sahib.
Well, if you wish it, Rujub, I will give you half an hour, and Bathurst looked at his watch. It is seven now, and I have to dine. I have work to do that will take me three hours at least, but at eleven I shall have finished. You will see a light in my room; come straight to the open window.
We will be there, sahib; and with a salaam the juggler walked off, followed by his daughter.
A few minutes before the appointed time Bathurst threw down his pen with a little sigh of satisfaction.
The memo he had just finished was a most conclusive one; it seemed to him unanswerable, and that the Department would have trouble in disputing his facts and figures. He had not since he sat down to his work given another thought to the juggler, and he almost started as a figure appeared in the veranda at the open window.
Ah, Rujub, is it you? I have just finished my work. Come in; is Rabda with you?
Ah, Rujub, is it you? I have just finished my work. Come in; is Rabda with you?
She will remain outside until I want her, the juggler said as he entered and squatted himself on the floor. I am not going to juggle, sahib. With us there are two sorts of feats; there are those that are performed by sleight of hand or by means of assistance. These are the jugglers tricks we show in the verandas and compounds of the white sahibs, and in the streets of the cities. There are others that are known only to the higher order among us, that we show only on rare occasions. They have come to us from the oldest times, and it is said they were brought by wise men from Egypt; but that I know not.
I have always been interested in juggling, and have seen many things that I cannot understand, Bathurst said. I have seen the basket trick done on the road in front of the veranda, as well as in other places, and I cannot in any way account for it.
The juggler took from his basket a piece of wood about two feet in length and some four inches in diameter.
You see this? he said.
Bathurst took it in his hand. It looks like a bit sawn off a telegraph pole, he said.
Will you come outside, sahib?
The night was very dark, but the lamp on the table threw its light through the window onto the drive in front of the veranda. Rujub took with him a piece of wood about nine inches square, with a soft pad on the top. He went out in the drive and placed the piece of pole upright, and laid the wood with the cushion on the top.
Now will you stand in the veranda a while?
Bathurst stood back by the side of the window so as not to interfere with the passage of the light. Rabda stole forward and sat down upon the cushion.
Now watch, sahib.
Bathurst looked, and saw the block of wood apparently growing. Gradually it rose until Rabda passed up beyond the light in the room.
You may come out, the juggler said, but do not touch the pole. If you do, it will cause a fall, which would be fatal to my child.
Bathurst stepped out and looked up. He could but just make out the figure of Rabda, seemingly already higher than the top of the bungalow. Gradually it became more and more indistinct.
You are there, Rabda? her father said.
I am here, father! and the voice seemed to come from a considerable distance.
Again and again the question was asked, and the answer became fainter and fainter, although it sounded as if it was a distant cry in response to Rujubs shout rather than spoken in an ordinary voice.
At last no response was heard.
Now it shall descend, the juggler said.
Two or three minutes passed, and then Bathurst, who was staring up into the darkness, could make out the end of the pole with the seat upon it, but Rabda was no longer there. Rapidly it sank, until it stood its original height on the ground.
Where is Rabda? Bathurst exclaimed.
She is here, my lord, and as he spoke Rabda rose from a sitting position on the balcony close to Bathurst.
It is marvelous! the latter exclaimed. I have heard of that feat before, but have never seen it. May I take up that piece of wood?
Assuredly, sahib.
Bathurst took it up and carried it to the light. It was undoubtedly, as he had before supposed, a piece of solid wood. The juggler had not touched it, or he would have supposed he might have substituted for the piece he first examined a sort of telescope of thin sheets of steel, but even that would not have accounted for Rabdas disappearance.
I will show you one other feat, my lord.
He took a brass dish, placed a few pieces of wood and charcoal in it, struck a match, and set the wood on fire, and then fanned it until the wood had burned out, and the charcoal was in a glow; then he sprinkled some powder upon it, and a dense white smoke rose.
Now turn out the lamp, sahib.
Bathurst did so. The glow of the charcoal enabled him still to see the light smoke; this seemed to him to become clearer and clearer.
Now for the past! Rujub said. The smoke grew brighter and brighter, and mixed with flashes of color; presently Bathurst saw clearly an Indian scene. A village stood on a crest, jets of smoke darted up from between the houses, and then a line of troops in scarlet uniform advanced against the village, firing as they went. They paused for a moment, and then with a rush went at the village and disappeared in the smoke over the crest.
Good Heavens, Bathurst muttered, it is the battle of Chillianwalla!
The future! Rujub said, and the colors on the smoke changed. Bathurst saw a wall surrounding a courtyard. On one side was a house. It had evidently been besieged, for in the upper part were many ragged holes, and two of the windows were knocked into one. On the roof were men firing, and there were one or two women among them. He could see their faces and features distinctly. In the courtyard wall there was a gap, and through this a crowd of Sepoys were making their way, while a handful of whites were defending a breastwork. Among them he recognized his own figure. He saw himself club his rifle and leap down into the middle of the Sepoys, fighting furiously there. The colors faded away, and the room was in darkness again. There was the crack of a match, and then Rujub said quietly, If you will lift off the globe again, I will light the lamp, sahib.
Bathurst almost mechanically did as he was told.
Well, sahib, what do you think of the pictures?
The first was true, Bathurst said quietly, though, how you knew I was with the regiment that stormed the village at Chillianwalla I know not. The second is certainly not true.
You can never know what the future will be, sahib, the juggler said gravely.
That is so, Bathurst said; but I know enough of myself to say that it cannot be true. I do not say that the Sepoys can never be fighting against whites, improbable as it seems, but that I was doing what that figure did is, I know, impossible.
Time will show, sahib, the juggler said; the pictures never lie. Shall I show you other things?
No, Rujub, you have shown me enough; you have astounded me. I want to see no more tonight.
Then farewell, sahib; we shall meet again, I doubt not, and mayhap I may be able to repay the debt I owe you; and Rujub, lifting his basket, went out through the window without another word.
CHAPTER III
Some seven or eight officers were sitting round the table in the messroom of the 103d Bengal Infantry at Cawnpore. It had been a guest night, but the strangers had left, the lights had been turned out in the billiard room overhead, the whist party had broken up, and the players had rejoined three officers who had remained at table smoking and talking quietly.
Outside, through the open French windows, the ground looked as if sprinkled with snow beneath the white light of the full moon. Two or three of the mess servants were squatting in the veranda, talking in low voices. A sentry walked backwards and forwards by the gate leading into the mess house compound; beyond, the maidan stretched away flat and level to the low huts of the native lines on the other side.
So the Doctor comes back tomorrow, Major, the Adjutant, who had been one of the whist party, said. I shall be very glad to have him back. In the first place, he is a capital fellow, and keeps us all alive; secondly, he is a good deal better doctor than the station surgeon who has been looking after the men since we have been here; and lastly, if I had got anything the matter with me myself, I would rather be in his hands than those of anyone else I know.