Raising my head from the pool of blood in which it had been weltering, and moving my stiffened neck with difficulty because of the dagger wound, the mark of which I carry to this day"--upraising his chin, the fakir laid a finger on a tiny but palpable scar--"I struggled to a sitting posture, and looked about in dazed bewilderment. But ere I could realize what had happened, again the blistering heat of fire that ran along the walls of the room caused me to stagger to my feet. Then as I gazed around, through a haze of smoke illumined by fitful, flickering gleams of ruddy radiance, all of a sudden came remembrance of the deadly a.s.sault and comprehension of my present danger.

"One swift sweeping glance showed me that the Ganapati was gone, and that my strong box, too, with its silver h.o.a.rd had disappeared, together with the package of gold coin and jewellery. My hands went instantly to my waistband; it had been torn open, and the crystal casket that held the blue diamonds abstracted.

"So the murderous priest had not only recovered his own, but had robbed me of my all!

"There was no time, however, to reflect or to moralize, for the loud crackling of fire amid the woodwork warned of my imminent peril.

Flinging the skirt of my robe across my face, I made one frantic dash for safety through the splintered panels of the door, the only exit from the room, regardless of the billows of mingled smoke and flame that were now rolling along the corridor.

"Half suffocated, almost blinded by the pungent fumes, my flesh seared, my garments aflame, I reeled into the courtyard of the women's quarters, and threw myself into the fountain splashing in the middle of the marble pavement. Then, drawing myself out of the water like a bedraggled rat, I crawled on hands and knees to the apartment of my wife.

"G.o.d! G.o.d! It was to find her and our two little children dead--stabbed to the heart on the sleeping mats where they lay."

A sobbing wail burst from the narrator's lips, and he covered his face with his hands. After a time he recovered his self-possession, and resumed, although still in broken tones and with shoulders heaving from emotion.

"I need not dwell on the pitiable story. Gaining the open country, I gazed upon the fierce flames now bursting in a dozen places from the roof of my doomed home, the funeral pyre of the last ones dear to me on earth.

"As I gazed I rent my garments, and raised my voice in loud lamentations. Soon all was consumed, and there remained only the dull glow of red embers. Then I wandered out into the night, stupefied and broken-hearted by the crowning calamity that had overtaken me, afraid even to face my neighbours of the village, naked, penniless, and alone.

"Thus did it come about that I, a man of estate, feudatory of a prince, within the period of a single moon lost wives and children, slaves and retainers, land and crops and cattle, family jewels, stores of gold and of silver, and also the blue diamonds of the idol for the retention of which I had rashly but unknowingly ventured all that I had of happiness in this world.

"And since that day of final disaster I have journeyed over the face of the land trying to find, not the blue diamonds, not my stolen h.o.a.rd, but that fiend incarnate, the priest of Siva, who slew my wives and children.

"I go about, now a Moslem fakir with the right of entry to the mosques where I may worship the only true G.o.d and Mohammed his prophet, now disguised as a Hindu yogi, crying 'Ram, Ram,' so that I may gain access to the temples of the idolators, there to find the Ganapati with the jewelled eyes, and by that token discover the man for whom I am ever seeking. Every year I revisit Ferishtapur, whence the idol was originally taken by my hand from the wrecked temple, but thither neither the priest nor the Ganapati has ever returned. At other times I travel from one city to another, searching for temples, mingling with the devotees at the recurring festivals, the Holi, the Durgapuga, the feast of lanterns, and watching the processions when the idols and their custodians visit each other's shrines or go to the river for the blessing of the waters. But wander where I may, priest or Ganapati have I never seen again.

"Thus have pa.s.sed fifty long years, during which I have lived for one thing alone, and that----revenge!"

Pausing before the last word, then uttering it in a scream that pierced the night air, the fakir sprang to his feet, and, swept by a sudden gust of overmastering pa.s.sion, raised his hands high to heaven--a weird and eerie figure in the silver sheen of the moon.

"Deen! deen! deen!" he cried, dancing around as he shrilly voiced the fanatic call to ma.s.sacre--the dread call which through the centuries has drenched with human blood a thousand shrines, both Moslem mosques and Hindu temples.

"Subah!" shouted the Afghan general, half rising, his hand on his sword hilt. "Stop that, you son of a dog, or I will make you meat for jackals.

Subah!" At the reiterated stern command the dancing figure became instantly rigid. Then, just as suddenly as he had leaped from his crouching att.i.tude, the fakir sank to the ground in a huddled heap, his face buried in the dust.

"You would be happier to-day, O man of many sorrows, had you followed the philosophy of 'kooch perwani'--had you said to yourself: 'What is done is done, and cannot be undone. Let it pa.s.s. Kooch perwani--no matter.'"

It was the Rajput who was speaking, in rebuke yet in commiseration.

"Even when all seemed lost" continued the Hindu soldier, "you should have forgotten the blue diamonds, the abiding greed for which was the real cause of your undoing; you should have forgotten your lost wealth and honourable position, your dear ones gone to the abode of bliss, the enemies who had despitefully used you but who, as your own religion teaches, were in truth only G.o.d's emissaries sent to punish you for your sins. It is the philosophy of 'kooch perwani' that teaches us to forget the dead past, do the work of the vital present, and by doing it aright build for the future an edifice of happiness and contentment. Had you followed that philosophy, O fakir, you might have been again to-day rich in the good things of the world."

The mendicant raised his face from the dust. "To which I reply, O prince,--kooch perwani. By the ordeals through which I have pa.s.sed I have come to learn that the treasures of this world are of no account.

Therefore is my philosophy to-day greater than your own. You wear costly robes, I the loin cloth of the beggar. Kooch perwani; for when death comes, we are equals. There is no pocket to a shroud."

VI. THE TIGER OF THE PATHANS

TOLD BY THE AFGHAN GENERAL

"In my case the philosophy of life is of the simplest," remarked the Afghan general. "I neither crave the wealth of the prince, nor do I inflict upon myself the mortifications of the ascetic. For the one rich robes and the sceptre, for the other a loin cloth and a begging-bowl; but for me the good sword that commands respect from my enemies, confidence from my friends, and my due share of the good things of existence. In this frame of mind I find the full measure of joy in each day that pa.s.ses."

He smiled the smile of the man contented with the world and with himself, but there was the light of proud determination in his eyes that belied the mere sybarite.

"Then for you the greatest good consists in the happiness you can s.n.a.t.c.h from the pa.s.sing hour," suggested the magistrate.

"That is so," concurred the soldier, "if to the word happiness you give the right interpretation. To me the performance of one's present duty is the only real thing that brings contentment. And duty need not always be stern and forbidding; to laugh and play and be merry may, at the proper time and in the proper circ.u.mstances, be a duty both to ourselves and to others. When one lives philosophically for the present, he takes men in all their moods and life in all its phases. The past is counted as dead and to be forgotten, except for the experience gained to guide the doing of the things that lie now to one's hand. The future is unseen, but is none the less determined by our deeds, words, and thoughts of the pa.s.sing moment, each one of which, be it remembered, whether deed or rash word, or unspoken thought, has consequences that are eternal."

"So for the man whose mind is thus attuned," again interposed the magistrate, "the present becomes all supreme, shaped by the past, shaping the future."

"Which means that destiny never degenerates into mere blind and helpless fatalism," responded the Afghan. "To do the right now suffices to give absolute trust in G.o.d for the hereafter. That is the key of destiny, and each man holds it in his own keeping."

"A simple religion," smiled the Rajput.

"And therefore the best. It is the religion of Islam freed from all the controversies of rival sects and over-learned mullahs. It is the religion of my fathers and the religion of my youth, and in it I abide.

Let me tell you a story of the rough school in which I received my early training and where such thoughts as these first began to sink deep into my mind.

"Have you ever heard of Shir Jumla Khan? No? Well, that is doubtless because he has been dead for a full score of years, and because he held his sway in a land remote from these plains of Hindustan, up in the rugged mountains, where brave tribesmen guard the valleys which their ancestors tilled, and yield allegiance to no one but their own hereditary chieftains. Such was my country and my people, for I am proud that in my veins runs the blood of the man who for a hundred miles around my boyhood home was known as The Tiger of the Pathans. Behold in me a grandson of Shir Jumla Khan."

The narrator folded his arms across his breast, in an att.i.tude of quiet dignity. After just a moment's pause he continued:

"We were all born fighters, the members of my clan, for during hundreds of years many a swarming host had swept past the gateways of our territory, Persians, Arabs, Afghans, Moguls, Turkmans, hordes of fighting men of every race and tongue, sometimes marching south bent on conquest, at other times returning to their homes laden with rich spoils, and yet at other times defeated and broken, with enemies pressing at their heels. And it was the patrimonial right of our tribe to take toll from all alike, from victors and vanquished, from pursuers and pursued.

"Sometimes an army would pa.s.s through our mountains under safe conduct from all the tribes, and the price paid in money, horses, camels, and cattle, cloths and other goods, would be divided among the several clans. But in this practice there had grown to be more danger for ourselves than from forays or a.s.saults on pa.s.sing enemies, because over the division of the spoils there would be quarrelling, followed by fighting, among the tribes. Thus had originated many a blood feud enduring through many generations.

"In the early days of Shir Jumla Khan it had come about that several rich caravans had fallen exclusively into his hands. With the money thus provided by the bountifulness of Allah, he had been enabled to build for himself a citadel that for vastness and security surpa.s.sed those of all his rivals among the tribal chiefs. Within its wide walls were wells and water tanks, gardens for the growing of fruits and vegetables, warehouses for goods, granaries stored with barley, wheat, and dal, stables for a hundred horses, sheds for the housing of cattle, sheep, and camels, and dwelling places for a goodly mult.i.tude of armed men, their wives and their children. And all of these things endure until this day, for the fortress town amid the mountains built by my grandsire, The Tiger of the Pathans, has ever remained unconquered and unconquerable.

"But as Shir Jumla Khan grew rich in possessions and in power--for scores of fighting men from afar were attracted to his service--at the same time did his position among the tribesmen become one of increasing isolation. All feared him and envied him, and fear and envy have ever been breeders of hate. Yet was he a just and a benevolent man, honoured and beloved by every one within his domain, where his slightest word was gladly accepted law, not because of the might he wielded but because of his fairness to all men.

"I was yet a young man when a widely spread plot among the rival tribesmen to destroy Shir Jumla Khan's power had come to a head, and had resulted in a determined and prolonged attack upon his citadel. Numbers had told, our outlying fields had been devastated, our flocks and herds driven away, and crowded within the walls of the fortress were refugees from all the surrounding countryside. We had been cooped up through the summer, we had lost our annual crops, and without the usual replenishment granaries and warehouses were beginning to wear an empty look, with but sorry promise for the winter. But, calm and undismayed, his proud look and serene smile ever the same, Shir Jumla Khan continued to feed the hungry host within his gates and now absolutely dependent upon his protection.

"The coming of winter would mean for us some relief, for the first snows would scatter the beleaguering hosts, sending them back to their own valleys, and giving us the chance, in the intervals of the season's storms, to make a few forays on our own account on neighbouring communities, which, taken one at a time, would be pretty well at our mercy. But if we reasoned in this wise so did our enemies; for it was now toward the close of the month of August and redoubled efforts were being put forth to accomplish the breaching of our walls, so that The Tiger of the Pathans might be slain before there was the chance of his fangs and claws again becoming dangerous.

"The tribesmen, no doubt by capture and enforced service, had secured the help of some engineers versed in the methods of sieges and a.s.saults on fortified places as practised in Hindustan. At that time I had never before seen a sabat, but now from our fortifications I beheld the gradual extension, day by day, of a broad covered way, with bull-hide roof stretched across the trench being dug, and effectually protecting the labourers below from our guns and muskets and catapults. We had made several sallies with a view to try and stop this work, but these had only resulted in losses on our side out of all proportion to the hara.s.sment and delay inflicted on the besiegers. So we could but impotently watch the subtle and inexorable approach of the skilled men who would eventually reach our walls, drive mines beneath them, and blow us to perdition.

"Our one chance lay in the question of time. If the winter began early we should be saved, but if the snows held off till late in the year it looked as if our doom must be sealed.

"But quite unexpectedly a ray of hope came from another quarter.

Dissension had broken out in the ranks of our foes!

"The first word was brought to us by a deserter from the besiegers'

camp, who one night had crept up to the gateway of the fort and whined for admittance, declaring that he had important news to tell and hoped for a reward.

"I was with my grandfather when, awakened from his sleep, he listened to the man's story. It told of a fierce quarrel the preceding evening between two of the leading chieftains. They had been conversing alone in one of their tents, when suddenly those without had heard angry words.

Then it would seem that the owner of the tent had sent for one of the slippers which his visitor had left at the doorway, and with this had administered five or six strokes over the head, driving his guest forth insulted and disgraced. Every one in the camp was on the alert for fighting in the morning.