Henty George Alfred
Rujub, the Juggler
“How came you to travel along this road alone?” he asked the man. “The natives only venture through in large parties, because of this tiger.”
“I am a stranger,” the man answered; “I heard at the village where we slept last night that there was a tiger in this jungle, but I thought we should be through it before nightfall, and therefore there was no danger. If one heeded all they say about tigers one would never travel at all. I am a juggler, and we are on our way down the country through Cawnpore and Allahabad. Had it not been for the valor of my lord sahib, we should never have got there; for had I lost my Rabda, the light of my heart, I should have gone no further, but should have waited for the tiger to take me also.”
“There was no particular valor about it,” Bathurst said shortly. “I saw the beast with its foot on your daughter, and dismounted to beat it off just as if it had been a dog, without thinking whether there was any danger in it or not. Men do it with savage beasts in menageries every day. They are cowardly brutes after all, and can’t stand the lash. He was taken altogether by surprise, too.”
“My lord has saved my daughter’s 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 feet—besides, 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 lord’s 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 thing—what 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 don’t want to be talked about.”
“The sahib’s 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 sahib’s 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 night’s 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 myself—I, 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 day’s 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 day’s work, and am worn out, and have still much to do. You had better go round to some of the other bungalows; though I don’t think you will do much this evening, for there is a dinner party at the Collector’s, and almost everyone will be there. My servants will give you food, and I shall be off at seven o’clock 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?”
“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 juggler’s 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 Rujub’s 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 Rabda’s 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.”
“Yes, I agree with you, Prothero; the Doctor is as good a fellow as ever stepped. There is no doubt about his talent in his profession; and there are a good many of us who owed our lives to him when we were down with cholera, in that bad attack three years ago. He is good all round; he is just as keen a shikari as he was when he joined the regiment, twenty years ago; he is a good billiard player, and one of the best storytellers I ever came across; but his best point is that he is such a thoroughly good fellow—always ready to do a good turn to anyone, and to help a lame dog over a stile. I could name a dozen men in India who owe their commissions to him. I don’t know what the regiment would do without him.”
“He went home on leave just after I joined,” one of the subalterns said. “Of course, I know, from all I have heard of him, that he is an awfully good fellow, but from the little I saw of him myself, he seemed always growling and snapping.”
There was a general laugh from the others.
“Yes, that is his way, Thompson,” the Major said; “he believes himself to be one of the most cynical and morose of men.”
“He was married, wasn’t he, Major?”
“Yes, it was a sad business. It was only just after I joined. He is three years senior to me in the regiment. He was appointed to it a month or two after the Colonel joined. Well, as I say, a month or two after I came to it, he went away on leave down to Calcutta, where he was to meet a young lady who had been engaged to him before he left home. They were married, and he brought her up country. Before she had been with us a month we had one of those outbreaks of cholera. It wasn’t a very severe one. I think we only lost eight or ten men, and no officer; but the Doctor’s young wife was attacked, and in three or four hours she was carried off. It regularly broke him down. However, he got over it, as we all do, I suppose; and now I think he is married to the regiment. He could have had staff appointments a score of times, but he has always refused them. His time is up next year, and he could go home on full pay, but I don’t suppose he will.”
“And your niece arrives with him tomorrow, Major,” the Adjutant said.
“Yes, I am going to try petticoat government, Prothero. I don’t know how the experiment will succeed, but I am tired of an empty bungalow, and I have been looking forward for some years to her being old enough to come out and take charge. It is ten years since I was home, and she was a little chit of eight years old at that time.”
“I think a vote of thanks ought to be passed to you, Major. We have only married ladies in the regiment, and it will wake us up and do us good to have Miss Hannay among us.”
“There are the Colonel’s daughters,” the Major said, with a smile.
“Yes, there are, Major, but they hardly count; they are scarcely conscious of the existence of poor creatures like us; nothing short of a Resident or, at any rate, of a full blown Collector, will find favor in their eyes.”
“Well, I warn you all fairly,” the Major said, “that I shall set my face against all sorts of philandering and love making. I am bringing my niece out here as my housekeeper and companion, and not as a prospective wife for any of you youngsters. I hope she will turn out to be as plain as a pikestaff, and then I may have some hopes of keeping her with me for a time. The Doctor, in his letter from Calcutta, says nothing as to what she is like, though he was good enough to remark that she seemed to have a fair share of common sense, and has given him no more trouble on the voyage than was to be expected under the circumstances. And now, lads, it is nearly two o’clock, and as there is early parade tomorrow, it is high time for you to be all in your beds. What a blessing it would be if the sun would forget to shine for a bit on this portion of the world, and we could have an Arctic night of seven or eight months with a full moon the whole time!”
A few minutes later the messroom was empty, the lights turned out, and the servants wrapped up in their blankets had disposed themselves for sleep in the veranda.
As soon as morning parade was over Major Hannay went back to his bungalow, looked round to see that his bachelor quarters were as bright and tidy as possible, then got into a light suit and went down to the post house. A quarter of an hour later a cloud of dust along the road betokened the approach of the Dak Gharry, and two or three minutes later it dashed up at full gallop amid a loud and continuous cracking of the driver’s whip. The wiry little horses were drawn up with a sudden jerk.
The Major opened the door. A little man sprang out and grasped him by the hand.
“Glad to see you, Major—thoroughly glad to be back again. Here is your niece; I deliver her safe and sound into your hands.” And between them they helped a girl to alight from the vehicle.
“I am heartily glad to see you, my dear,” the Major said, as he kissed her; “though I don’t think I should have known you again.”
“I should think not, uncle,” the girl said. “In the first place, I was a little girl in short frocks when I saw you last; and in the second place, I am so covered with the dust that you can hardly see what I am like. I think I should have known you; your visit made a great impression upon us, though I can remember now how disappointed we were when you first arrived that you hadn’t a red coat and a sword, as we had expected.”
“Well, we may as well be off at once, Isobel; it is only five minutes’ walk to the bungalow. My man will see to your luggage being brought up. Come along, Doctor. Of course you will put up with me until you can look round and fix upon quarters. I told Rumzan to bring your things round with my niece’s. You have had a very pleasant voyage out, I hope, Isobel?” he went on, as they started.
“Very pleasant, uncle, though I got rather tired of it at last.”
“That is generally the way—everyone is pleasant and agreeable at first, but before they get to the end they take to quarreling like cats and dogs.”
“We were not quite as bad as that,” the girl laughed, “but we certainly weren’t as amiable the last month or so as we were during the first part of the voyage. Still, it was very pleasant all along, and nobody quarreled with me.”
“Present company are always excepted,” the Doctor said. “I stood in loco parentis, Major, and the result has been that I shall feel in future more charitable towards mothers of marriageable daughters. Still, I am bound to say that Miss Hannay has given me as little trouble as could be expected.”
“You frighten me, Doctor; if you found her so onerous only for a voyage, what have I to look forward to?”
“Well, you can’t say that I didn’t warn you, Major; when you wrote home and asked me to take charge of your niece on the way out, I told you frankly that my opinion of your good sense was shaken.”
“Yes, you did express yourself with some strength,” the Major laughed; “but then one is so accustomed to that, that I did not take it to heart as I might otherwise have done.”
“That was before you knew me, Dr. Wade, otherwise I should feel very hurt,” the girl put in.
“Yes, it was,” the Doctor said dryly.
“Don’t mind him, my dear,” her uncle said; “we all know the Doctor of old. This is my bungalow.”
“It is pretty, with all these flowers and shrubs round it,” she said admiringly.
“Yes, we have been doing a good deal of watering the last few weeks, so as to get it to look its best. This is your special attendant; she will take you up to your room. By the time you have had a bath, your boxes will be here. I told them to have a cup of tea ready for you upstairs. Breakfast will be on the table by the time you are ready.”
“Well, old friend,” he said to the Doctor, when the girl had gone upstairs, “no complications, I hope, on the voyage?”
“No, I think not,” the Doctor said. “Of course, there were lots of young puppies on board, and as she was out and out the best looking girl in the ship half of them were dancing attendance upon her all the voyage, but I am bound to say that she acted like a sensible young woman; and though she was pleasant with them all, she didn’t get into any flirtation with one more than another. I did my best to look after her, but, of course, that would have been of no good if she had been disposed to go her own way. I fancy about half of them proposed to her—not that she ever said as much to me—but whenever I observed one looking sulky and giving himself airs I could guess pretty well what had happened. These young puppies are all alike, and we are not without experience of the species out here.
“Seriously, Major, I think you are to be congratulated. I consider that you ran a tremendous risk in asking a young woman, of whom you knew nothing, to come out to you; still it has turned out well. If she had been a frivolous, giggling thing, like most of them, I had made up my mind to do you a good turn by helping to get her engaged on the voyage, and should have seen her married offhand at Calcutta, and have come up and told you that you were well out of the scrape. As, contrary to my expectations, she turned out to be a sensible young woman, I did my best the other way. It is likely enough you may have her on your hands some little time, for I don’t think she is likely to be caught by the first comer. Well, I must go and have my bath; the dust has been awful coming up from Allahabad. That is one advantage, and the only one as far as I can see, that they have got in England. They don’t know what dust is there.”
When the bell for breakfast rang, and Isobel made her appearance, looking fresh and cool, in a light dress, the Major said, “You must take the head of the table, my dear, and assume the reins of government forthwith.”
“Then I should say, uncle, that if any guidance is required, there will be an upset in a very short time. No, that won’t do at all. You must go on just as you were before, and I shall look on and learn. As far as I can see, everything is perfect just as it is. This is a charming room, and I am sure there is no fault to be found with the arrangement of these flowers on the table. As for the cooking, everything looks very nice, and anyhow, if you have not been able to get them to cook to your taste, it is of no use my attempting anything in that way. Besides, I suppose I must learn something of the language before I can attempt to do anything. No, uncle, I will sit in this chair if you like, and make tea and pour it out, but that is the beginning and the end of my assumption of the head of the establishment at present.”
“Well, Isobel, I hardly expected that you were going to run the establishment just at first; indeed, as far as that goes, one’s butler, if he is a good man, has pretty well a free hand. He is generally responsible, and is in fact what we should call at home housekeeper—he and the cook between them arrange everything. I say to him, ‘Three gentlemen are coming to tiffen.’ He nods and says ‘Atcha, sahib,’ which means ‘All right, sir,’ and then I know it will be all right. If I have a fancy for any special thing, of course I say so. Otherwise, I leave it to them, and if the result is not satisfactory, I blow up. Nothing can be more simple.”
“But how about bills, uncle?”
“Well, my dear, the butler gives them to me, and I pay them. He has been with me a good many years, and will not let the others—that is to say, the cook and the syce, the washerman, and so on, cheat me beyond a reasonable amount. Do you, Rumzan?”
Rumzan, who was standing behind the Major’s chair, in a white turban and dress, with a red and white sash round his waist, smiled.
“Rumzan not let anyone rob his master.”
“Not to any great extent, you know, Rumzan. One doesn’t expect more than that.”
“It is just the same here, Miss Hannay, as it is everywhere else,” said the Doctor; “only in big establishments in England they rob you of pounds, while here they rob you of annas, which, as I have explained to you, are two pence halfpennies. The person who undertakes to put down little peculations enters upon a war in which he is sure to get the worst of it. He wastes his time, spoils his temper, makes himself and everyone around him uncomfortable, and after all he is robbed. Life is too short for it, especially in a climate like this. Of course, in time you get to understand the language; if you see anything in the bills that strikes you as showing waste you can go into the thing, but as a rule you trust entirely to your butler; if you cannot trust him, get another one. Rumzan has been with your uncle ten years, so you are fortunate. If the Major had gone home instead of me, and if you had had an entirely fresh establishment of servants to look after, the case would have been different; as it is, you will have no trouble that way.”
“Then what are my duties to be, uncle?”
“Your chief duties, my dear, are to look pleasant, which will evidently be no trouble to you; to amuse me and keep me in a good temper as far as possible; to keep on as good terms as may be with the other ladies of the station; and, what will perhaps be the most difficult part of your work, to snub and keep in order the young officers of our own and other corps.”
Isobel laughed. “That doesn’t sound a very difficult programme, uncle, except the last item; I have already had a little experience that way, haven’t I, Doctor? I hope I shall have the benefit of your assistance in the future, as I had aboard the ship.”
“I will do my best,” the Doctor said grimly; “but the British subaltern is pretty well impervious to snubs; he belongs to the pachydermatous family of animals; his armor of self conceit renders him invulnerable against the milder forms of raillery. However, I think you can be trusted to hold your own with him, Miss Hannay, without much assistance from the Major or myself. Your real difficulty will lie rather in your struggle against the united female forces of the station.”
