Barclay of the Guides Page 5

  CHAPTER THE FIFTH

  Reprisals

  At sunset of the day on which Sherdil's plan was adopted, the littleparty of seven set off from Shagpur in the opposite direction fromMinghal's village. Their goal was a small town on the frontier, manymiles away, where in the bazar they might obtain the articles necessaryto their proper equipment as traders. Sherdil, who had doffed his khakiuniform and assumed the native dress of his village, thought it best tostart at night so as to evade any spies whom Minghal might have placedin the neighbourhood.

  The journey was to have a great importance in the life of Ahmed, son ofRahmut Khan. He rode close beside Sherdil all the way, and when theyhalted at roadside serais for rest and refreshment, those two atetogether and squatted or lay side by side. The things of which Sherdilhad spoken at his father's feast had fired Ahmed's imagination. Thoughthe impressions of his early childhood had become dim, and the peopleamong whom he had then lived were mere shadows, he remembered that hewas of English birth, and Sherdil's words had stirred within him adesire to know more about his own people. In the first days of his lifeat Shagpur he had sometimes thought of running away, but he soon foundthis to be impossible, and of late the desire had quite left him. Theold chief, he knew, had saved his life on that terrible day when hisreal father was killed. That was a tie between them which could noteasily be broken. And he had now become so thoroughly imbued with Pathanideas and customs that he never thought of any other destiny than thatof Rahmut Khan's successor. But his contact with a man who was actuallyin the service of the sahibs had roused within him a curiosity to seethe people to whom he rightly belonged, and he plied Sherdil withquestions about them.

  Further, Sherdil's references to great fights in which the corps ofGuides had been engaged appealed strongly to his spirit of adventure,and he pressed the man to tell him more.

  "What was that fight at Multan of which you spoke?" he asked, as theytook their siesta in the hot hours of the next day.

  "Ah! the fight of Fatteh Khan," replied Sherdil. "'Tis a brave tale, andI will tell it thee. 'Twas seven years and more ago. We were in thetrenches before Multan. Lumsden Sahib was absent; there were only threesahib officers with us. One day a kasid galloped into our camp with newsthat a party of the enemy's horse, some twenty strong, had driven off aherd of camels from their grazing near the camp of General Whish. FattehKhan was our risaldar, and he called to us to mount and follow him topunish those marauders. We galloped off, no more than seventy, the kasidgoing before to show the way. And lo! when we had ridden three miles,and came to the place he had spoken of, we discovered, not twenty, butthe whole host of the enemy's cavalry, full twelve hundred men. They hadbeen sent, as we learnt, to cut off a convoy of treasure which was saidto be on the way to our general's camp; but they failed in this, andwere now wending back to their own city.

  "Did Fatteh Khan bid us halt and return? That is not Fatteh Khan. Wah!he cried to us to ride like the wind, and the enemy, seeing us, halted,not knowing what this strange thing might be. And straight through themwe rode, with sword and lance, and when we had come out on the otherside we wheeled about and clove through them again. Wah! they were likea flock of sheep, witless, huddling together, springing this way andthat without any sense. Again we rode into them, though our arms wereweary and our horses much spent. And then that great host, crying onAllah to preserve them, broke apart and fled for their lives, and wepursued them up to the very walls of their city. That is one of thedeeds of Fatteh Khan with Lumsden Sahib's Guides, of whom I am not theleast."

  With other stories like this Sherdil beguiled the hours of rest, andAhmed became more and more eager to do something in emulation of theGuides. Perhaps this expedition on which he was soon to be engaged wouldprovide him with an opportunity; he vowed that if it came he would notlet it slip.

  Four days later the party of seven was returning. But it presented avery different appearance now. The men had changed their costume so asto appear like peaceable traders. They wore white turbans and long coatsgirt about with a sash. All weapons save long talwars slung at theirbelts--for even traders must be prepared to make some defence of theirwares--had disappeared. They had two camels, loaded with bales whichmight very well contain cloth. The youngest of the party, who, when heleft Shagpur, was a smooth-cheeked youth with a ruddy duskiness ofcomplexion, was now a shade or two darker in hue, and bore a thin blackmoustache on his upper lip.

  These transformations had been effected within a day's march ofMinghal's village. The party made their slow way between hill and plain,so timing themselves that they came to the gate a little before sunset.To the customary demand of the gate-keeper that they should say who theywere and what their business, Sherdil replied--

  "We are traders from Rawal Pindi to Cabul, but a small party, as yousee, and we dare not encamp for the night in the open, lest someaccursed sons of perdition fall upon us and rob us. All the world knowsof Minghal Khan's benevolence to strangers, and we beg a refuge for thenight, O gate-keeper."

  "And what do ye offer in return for this favour?" asked the gate-keeper.

  "'Tis unworthy of your chief's illustriousness, we fear," said Sherdilhumbly, "but such as it is we make it with grateful hearts. 'Tis indeeda quantity of cloth, of good weaving, and such as the Amir of Cabulapproves; therefore, unworthy as it is, we yet hope it may find favourin the eyes of Minghal Khan."

  The gate was thrown open without more ado. The traders were led to thevillage change-house, where they stalled the camels and their horses,Sherdil then immediately setting out with one of the men to convey thepresent of cloth to Minghal. When he returned, he reported with greatsatisfaction that the chief was residing in his tower, which was distantno more than eighty yards away. And then, with Ahmed's assistance, heunloaded from the back of one of the camels a small wooden case, whichthey carried carefully into the one large room of which theguest-portion of the change-house consisted. There were only two othertravellers in the room--big bearded Afghans, one of whom inquiredcuriously what was the contents of the case which the new-comers hadbrought with them.

  "Porcelain from Delhi," replied Sherdil at once. "Care is needed, lestit be shivered to atoms." And he laid it down in a corner near thecharpoy placed for him, and covered it with a roll of cloth.

  The travellers ate a simple supper, and conversed freely with theAfghans; then they all laid themselves down, and there was silence savefor some few snores and the grunting of the camels, which was heard veryclearly through the thin wooden wall.

  Some hours later, about three o'clock in the morning, there was a slightand almost noiseless scuffle within the change-house. The two Afghanswere suddenly awakened from sleep by rough hands laid upon them. Theflickering oil lamp gave little light; the Afghans' sleepy eyes but halfapprehended the meaning of what they saw; and their tongues sufferedfrom a sudden impediment, for, as they opened their mouths to cry out,gags were slipped in, and fierce voices muttered in their ears a warningto be quiet and lie still, or worse would befall them. Theirfellow-guests, the apparently peaceable dealers in cloth and porcelain,with wonderful dexterity and speed tied their feet and hands together,and the Afghans had not recovered from their amazement when they saw twoof the merchants creeping out of the door, carrying the small case ofprecious porcelain between them.

  Meanwhile the other members of the party, after a little fumbling amongtheir bales of merchandise, had withdrawn from the folds of innocentcloth a musket apiece, and after the departure of their fellows stoodjust behind the door in the attitude of men awaiting a call. One of thempeered round the door; another slightly drew aside the slats of theadjacent window--an unglazed opening in the wall--and looked eagerlyacross the street. There was no moon; the village was in darkness; butthe forms of the two men who had gone out could be dimly seen as theycrept stealthily along by the wall in the direction of the tower betweenthem and the gate.

  The two reached the foot of the tower and laid their burdendown--gently, as befitted a box containing precious porcelain--at the
door. Then one of them stooped lower, and appeared to thrust somethinginto a hole near the bottom of the box. The watchman on the wall musthave been half-asleep, or he would have noticed a sudden spark at thefoot of the tower. It flashed but for a moment; then the two men,bending low, hastened back stealthily by the way they had gone, came tothe change-house, and slipping in by the still half-open door, closed itbehind them.

  They waited for perhaps a minute, and there was not a sound within theguest-chamber save the slight smothered grunting of the Afghans throughtheir gags. Then from without there came a sudden roar; the groundtrembled, the building rocked as if it would fall about their heads, andthe waiting men, drawing a long breath, threw open the door and ran withgreat nimbleness towards the tower The street was filled with acridfumes; here and there men were crying out, but the merchants paid noheed, but rushed through the smoke and plunged into the yawning chasmwhere the tower door had been. The opening was clogged with burning woodand fragments of masonry; the intruders stumbled over these, coughing upthe smoke that entered their lungs, and groped their way up the narrowwinding stairway.

  Cries from above assailed them. At the top of the first flight of stepsstood a man armed with a long spear. The stairway was so narrow thatonly one man could pass at a time, and the man at the head of themounting party, coming too suddenly upon the spearman, received a thrustin the breast and toppled backward. But the man behind him slipped asideto avoid his falling body, and caught the spear before it could bewithdrawn, dragging the spearman forward. Two others--they were Sherdiland Ahmed--seized the occasion to squeeze past him; but they gained thetop of the flight only to see the two men who, behind him, had beencontent to let him bear the brunt of the attack, dash back across thenarrow passage to a door on the other side. The passage was lit by asmall oil lamp--a wick floating in a shallow saucer. By its lightSherdil and Ahmed saw the men fling themselves through the door into theroom beyond. They sprang after them, but the door was slammed in theirfaces and the bolt shot.

  And now great shouts floated up the stairway from below. They were criesof surprise and fear, calls for arms, mingled with the fierce war-shoutof Pathan warriors. Some little while after the party of merchants hadfound entrance to the village, Rahmut Khan with all his fighting men hadcome up in the darkness and lain in hiding beyond the walls. Theexplosion had been the signal for an attack on the village. They haddashed forward; some had forced the gate, others had scaled the walls,and they now held the village at their mercy, for the explosion had beenso startling, and the attack so sudden, that any effective defence wasout of the question.

  Meanwhile, Sherdil and his band, finding themselves blocked by thebolted door, had sought for some means of breaking it down. Theirchief's quarrel was with Minghal Khan, and it was Minghal Khan whom theywere most eager to secure. Some minutes passed before axes could befound, then with a few shattering blows the door was broken in. Sherdilsprang into the room, followed closely by Ahmed and the rest. The birdshad flown. The room was small, with one narrow window in the outer wall.A rope hung from it; the men had descended by this and made theirescape. Ahmed rushed down the stairs to inform his father, and to sendmen out in pursuit. Sherdil hastened to the upper apartments in the hopethat Minghal might not have been one of the two who had escaped. But hefound no one in the tower except the women and children.

  The surprise had been entirely successful save in this one matter of theescape of Minghal. The village had fallen to Rahmut almost without ablow. Indeed, save for the one man who had been speared at the head ofthe steps, and one who had been shot by the sentry before he himself wascut down, the victory had been bloodless. Rahmut's men patrolled thestreets until dawn. Then he called the people to a meeting and reassuredthem as to his intentions. Without doubt they had been led away, he toldthem, in their attack on Shagpur, by the evil designs of their chief,Minghal. Minghal was now gone--had fled away to escape disgrace andhumiliation. But his cowardice was a disgrace still greater. None but acoward would have taken flight thus, leaving his men without a leaderand his family defenceless.

  "Minghal has a serpent's cunning, but the heart of a hare," cried theold chief. "He is not fit for rule. He tried to take my village, andfailed; and we have shown that even at tricks we can beat him. I willpunish no man for Minghal's ill-doings. I myself will be your chief, andyou shall be my people."

  The men sent out in pursuit of Minghal returned by and by unsuccessful.In that hilly country there were many hiding-places where he mightdwell. In the afternoon Rahmut returned to Shagpur, leaving one of hisprincipal lieutenants in charge with a score of men, and taking a likenumber of Minghal's men with him for safety's sake.

  Sherdil received great praise for his skilful stratagem. Rahmut wishedto keep him at Shagpur, offering him great inducements to remain. ButSherdil was not to be tempted. He had eaten Lumsden Sahib's salt, hesaid, and when his furlough was over he would return to his duties atMardan, the head-quarters of the Guides. Perhaps later on, when his termof service had expired and he was granted a pension, he might settle inhis native village; but for the present he was content to remain one ofthe Guides and serve the sirkar. And when, a few days later, he donnedhis khaki again and rode away to rejoin his comrades, no one in Shagpurwas sorrier than Ahmed. Sherdil's departure had left a blank.