Chapter V: Part 5

Plunged at once into the direst horror and grief at what he had done, and alone on the road with his faithful friend dead before his eyes, he could not resist the impulse, and seizing the open talwār he thrust it into his own body, and so perished by the side of his favourite. In this state were they found, and the story of the Banjāra and his dog, and the spot where they died, have ever since been treasured up in the memories of the people.

Moral, or “Nasihut”: Keep always a steel-plate upon your temper, and a “Rothâs” bridle on your tongue, which you know is the strongest of all, and never give way to rash and impulsive acts.

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EXPLANATORY NOTES.

“_Sait._”—This is a Sanscrit word for a banker, and is pronounced “Seth.” The word “Chetty” is derived from this, as applied to “Tamil” traders in Burmah and the Straits Settlements. Those who take up purely financial matters are astute men of business; lending money at exhorbitant rates of interest they get many of the farmers into complete subjection to them. They are wise enough to keep in with the people generally, and often build masonry tanks and dig wells for general use. Sometimes in the very hot weather they will employ a high caste Brahmin to provide drinking water to passing travellers, and will keep them in their pay for a whole hot season.

The natives of the district have their saying about this, as they have about every class, and it runs as a proverb from mouth to mouth:

Paisah ourrâh cheez
Sub noo kurdhâh yar uzeez.

TRANSLATED THUS:

Money is a great and rare article, and quite a marvel,
For it makes everyone claim for you the strongest friendship.

“_Banjāra._”—Derived either from the Sanscrit word “Banj,” meaning Trade, or from the Persian word “Brinj,” Rice, and “Ar,” Carrying.

The Banjāras are wandering tribes, leading a sort of gipsy life. They possess many valuable pack animals, and carry their own grain, and that also of farmers, from one part of the country to another. As a rule they are well-to-do.

They are divided into several “Gôts,” or original races, some of them children of the stock of “Thurkee,” “Baidh,” and “Subanna,” and many claim “Gour Brahman” as their ancestor. Nearly every community has a Chief, or “Naik,” or “Tanda,” who lives a life of asceticism, and to whom they yield implicit obedience. Some Banjāras are known to engage in gang robberies, but this is rare with most of the tribes.

They are to be found both amongst the Mahomedans and Hindus. Amongst a particular class of them “bull worship” is said to exist. When sickness occurs the sick man is led to the feet of the bullock “Hatadiya,” devoted to the god “Balaji,” a Hindu deity of Gujerat. On this animal no burden is ever laid, but he moves steadily at the head of the convoy, and the place he lies down on when tired, _that_ they make their halting-place for the day.

At his feet they make their vows when difficulties overtake them; and in illness, whether of themselves or cattle, they trust to his worship for a cure.—_Crooke._

They are believed to have been originally the grain-carriers for the old Moghul armies, and had many privileges given to them in consequence. Distance and climate do not stand in the way of their conveying grain from one part of the country to the other, and being held in fear by other natives, they are never molested or interfered with. They are gradually dying out, as the traffic in grain is being carried on by other means.

“_Faithful Dog._”—Dogs play a prominent part in the Folk-tales of most countries, and in India they have ever been the cherished companions of many tribes. With the Banjāras they are the sentinels of their encampment; as it is so well known they are equally so to the Bedouins in the desert. It is believed by many that they are in touch with the spirits of their dead, and a sure protection from evil influences.

There are many legends and omens about them in the district, too numerous to mention here.

It is not lucky for a dog to lie on its back.
It is not lucky for a dog to be given to howl.
It _is_ lucky for a strange dog to follow one home.

And so on.

When the natives see the wild dog in the jungles, (and they are still existing there) they marvel at the triumph that man has had over them, to bring them from such a fierce and savage state to be so close a friend and companion.

Crooke says there is an old bit of folk-lore from the Mirzapoor district, where the merchant kills his faithful dog near a tank.

Our thoughts will also take us to the old Welsh tradition of Prince Llewellyn’s hound, still kept in memory in the name of the village, Beddgelert, or grave of “Gelert.”

These are but further instances of the common groundwork of all folk-lore.

There are two breeds of the Banjāra dogs known in the district. They are not unlike the “Gudhi” dogs bred in the Kangra district, but devoid of their woolly and shaggy coat. The ears with one of the breeds are carried erect, and they stand over two feet in height. They are devoted to their individual master, and remain attached to him till death. They seem to anticipate his every wish and thought, and almost to assume a certain likeness to him.

An unfaithful dog is spoken of as:

Khandhâh peendhâh saeent-dha ghur
Vungh Bhonkdhâh kassâe dha ghur.

THUS TRANSLATED.

He eats and drinks at his master’s house,
But he barks for and protects the butcher’s shop.

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HOW AN EVIL SPIRIT WAS EXORCISED.

Once upon a time there lived in the city of Peshawar, not very long ago, an old Priest who had obtained a reputation for the power he possessed over malignant spirits. This Priest usually had under his tuition two or three boys who were “Jinns,” and to whom as it pleased him from time to time he communicated the knowledge he possessed of the black art.

This old Priest came to dwell in the village of Haji Shah, and took up his abode near to the Mahomedan mosque there. This mosque was in close proximity to the quarters of the “Chuprassies,” who you know, are employed by the Sirkar or Government in the suppression of salt smuggling.

The Chief of these “Chuprassies” had in his household a man of the name of Gopee, whose brother Shivedas was one of the “Chuprassies,” and lived with the others in the quarters provided for them.

Shivedas was occasionally seized with violent fits, and when under their influence would rave like a maniac. All kinds of medicine had been tried to relieve him of the disorder, but it was all in vain; so at last his friends left him to himself, and only sought to prevent his doing any injury to himself when the fits came upon him.

One day when Shivedas was returning to his quarters he was again attacked by his old malady, and so violent was he on this occasion that it took four men to hold him down on his “charpai,” or bed. His brother Gopee was at once sent for, and he found him in one of the severest fits he had ever had. On reaching his bedside, Shivedas cried out, “Save me, Gopee; save me!”

Those round the bed, and the four holding him, said, “Why do you not do something for your brother?” He replied, “I have done all I can, but there is no cure for his disease.” They said, “Then why do you not send for the Priest here, who would soon expel this evil spirit, which comes now and again to torment him?” Now Gopee did not believe in the power of the Priest. At last one of the “Chuprassies” went to their European Chief’s house, and begged him to come up to the quarters to see what could be done. When he arrived there and saw the state that Shivedas was in, and Gopee, his brother, in such great distress, he said, “What can be done to relieve this man?” They all said, “Send for the Priest, the old Peshawar man, and he will soon put him right.” The Chief said, “Well, do so if you like.” They replied, “He will not come for us, for he is a grumpy old man; but he will come for you.” So the Chief, to relieve the sufferer, and perhaps to satisfy his own curiosity, sent to ask the Priest to come.

In a short time he made his appearance, just when Shivedas was in one of his worse struggles, and looking at him for some time, he all of a sudden seemed to make up his mind, and drawing his “Qorân” from his pocket went close to the bedside and called out, “Are you going to leave this man, or not?” And a voice came from Shivedas, “No! I will not.” Now, many present heard the voice, but it was not the voice of Shivedas.

The Priest then asked for some rag, and many ran to get a piece of an old “Chudder,” or cloth, but he said, “No! this will not do; it must be blue rag.” And in very quick time someone ran and brought a piece from the Bazaar.

When the Priest took it into his hand he called for a light, and then proceeded to burn it in the flame. Then, again advancing to the bedside, with the burning rag in one hand and the open Qorân in the other, he called out in a louder tone than before, “Are you going to leave this man, or are you not? If not I will burn you out and all your generation.” The same voice then uttered the words, “I will not leave him; and who are you?”

The old Priest then placed the smouldering rag to the nose of Shivedas, and again threatened the evil spirit; and then, to the astonishment of all, the voice said, “I will go away this time if you will not trouble nor worry me.”

After this Shivedas became still and tranquil, and went off into a profound sleep.

Some hours afterwards, when he awoke, and was questioned as to what had occurred, he could call nothing to his remembrance.

The “Chuprassies” believed that the evil spirit had been exorcised by the Priest, and it is certainly true that Shivedas had no return of his fits; and I tell you this tale, for it is believed by many of us to this day.

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EXPLANATORY NOTES.

“_Jinns._”—Before referred to, and meaning that which is internal, and cannot be seen. The word is spelt sometimes Djinns, or Ginns. They are supposed by some to be deities of the ancient pagans. By the Greeks believed to be spirits never engaged in matter, nor ever joined to bodies, subdivided into good and bad, every man having one of each to attend him at all times.

The Mahomedans believe in several divisions of them, and that they inhabited the world many thousands of years before Adam. Falling into corruption, they were consigned to the Mountains of Kâf; the mountains which in Moslem legends surround the world. They still believe that they interest themselves in the affairs of men; that, if assuming human shape their eyes are placed longitudinally in their face. In Arab mythology Solomon is supposed to have possessed special power over them. There are forty troops of them, it is stated, with 600,000 in a troop. Crooke, in referring to them, says, they are believed to have been resplendently handsome, and sometimes horribly hideous.

They are not confined to any part of the earth in which we live, but are to be found in every region.

In Hungary, it is said that many years ago the miners were visited by them in the shape of little negro boys who did no mischief, merely on occasion blowing out their lamps.

The Malays, who are Mahomedans, have the same beliefs as their co-religionists in India, their beneficent spirits being styled Dawā, with supernatural powers.

The Chinese idea of Jinns and Genii, as given by one of their writers, is that they will live upon air, or even give up breathing the outer air, and carry on the process of breathing inwardly, as they say, for days together as in a catalepsy (like an Indian Fakir). They will become invisible; they will take the form of any bird, beast, fish or insect; they will mount up above the clouds; dive into the deepest sea; or burrow into the centre of the earth.

The chief Jinn will command spirits and demons of all sorts and sizes and hold them at his beck and call. Finally, after living in the world for perhaps several hundred years, he does not die (for a Jinn or Genii is immortal, though a spirit may not be so), but he rides up to heaven on the back of a dragon, where he becomes a ruler of spirits.

The strict “Confucians” deny their existence. One of the most celebrated of Genii is in Chinese history named “Chang Kwoh,” who possessed a white mule which could transport him thousands of miles in a single day, and which when he halted he folded up and hid away in his wallet.

The Isles of the Genii San Shên Shan were supposed to be pretty much where “Formosa” actually now exists; vide Deny’s exhaustive work on the Folk-lore of China.

“_Chuprassies._”—From the Hindustani word “Chuprās,” a buckle or badge worn to show authority, and generally on a belt over the shoulder.

“_Exorcism._”—The so-called art of Divination, or the foretelling of events, past and future by other than human means, together with the conjuring of spirits both good and evil, and the wearing of charms and amulets as a preservative against evils and witchcraft, have all been in habitual use from remote ages, and are still resorted to in many parts of the world.

India is full of it, where the evil spirits are called “Bhût,” and so is Persia, where necromancers examine for marks and signs the blade bone of a newly killed sheep, very much as is done in the art of Palmistry which by marks and signs professes to discover the character of any person from the palm of his hand.

Exorcism soon followed in the train of most of these superstitions, and a class of people supposed to be possessed of devils, and called “energumens,” sought out those who professed to drive them away with a magical form of words. The Moslems term all these systems of belief “Kahānah,” or a “causing to tell,” and deem them such as to call for disapproval, as indeed also do most Christians in these days.

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BAHADŪR SINGH AND THE BLIND BEGGAR.

There lived once in the Punjaub many years ago an old Seikh soldier who had gained much renown amongst his fellow-countrymen for the many acts of bravery he had shown in the tribal wars that in those days used often to take place between the chieftains of the various independent states thereabout. We all know that the Seikhs belong to a sect whose founder was one “Nanak,” who lived in the beginning of the sixteenth century, and that the word Seikh means in the Sanscrit language a “disciple.”

This old soldier had for his first name the distinguished appellation of “Bahadūr,” which in the Persian language means “brave,” so he was brave by name as well as by nature.

At the time the incident occurred which I am now about to relate to you all, he had retired from active service and had settled down on a small competence for a native, in the village of Shumshabad.

In this village, as indeed may be found in many towns and villages of Upper India, there was a little colony of blind men who subsisted on the alms of the benevolent, and they were generally to be found near the markets or bazaars, or along the thoroughfares leading to them. They had moreover, a little settlement of their own situated on the confines of the town.

One of these blind men at Shumshabad, a wizen-faced, attenuated, old fellow, clad in poor garments, and wearing a “Kummul,” or native blanket, thrown about him, used to sit daily by the wayside begging, and ever in the same spot. This old blind man had the habit of calling out in a piteous tone, “Friends have pity on the blind, and let him only feel and handle a hundred gold mohurs and he will be made happy for ever.”

Now, as few people who passed that way had even one coin of that value, his wish never seemed likely to be gratified, but he made a pile of money for all that, as the sequel of the story will show.

Bahadūr Singh used to hear this plaintive cry almost daily when he went to the Bazaar, and being kind as well as brave, he often thought to himself, I should much like to satisfy that old blind man’s wish, but I suppose I shall never be able to do so, for the little I have scarce supplies my own daily wants; so he contented himself, with others round him, in casting a pice into the blind man’s wallet.

Months, nay years had passed by, when Bahadūr Singh had occasion to visit a sister who resided at some little distance from Shumshabad, on the high road to Jhelum.

Upon his return he stopped to rest near a Tank, as natives often do, and upon the bank his eye caught sight of a small dark object, and when he had picked it up he found it was very heavy. His curiosity was now greatly aroused, and what was his surprise on opening it, but to discover that it was full of gold mohurs, and when he had counted them over, lo, and behold! there were exactly one hundred.

He was in quite a whirl of delight, and one might have thought that he would have kept the money and not have disclosed the secret to anyone, but as there were just the very one hundred gold mohurs that by their feeling and handling might make the old blind man of his village happy for ever, the first idea that entered his head was to go straight to the spot where he knew he always asked for alms, to let him run his fingers over them.

So without any further ado off he went, and upon reaching the old blind man who was calling out in his usual strain; Bahadūr Singh said, “Here, good old man, this is a lucky day for you, for I have brought you one hundred gold mohurs to feel, and to handle, and to be happy for ever.”

Whereupon Bahadūr Singh handed the gold mohurs one by one into the old blind man’s hand, and he handled them and put them one by one into his wallet, repeating after every one, “Oh! you blessed and good man.” By the time the whole hundred had been counted out a very considerable crowd began to collect, so that Bahadūr Singh thought it better to recover his money and be off. He then asked the old blind man to give it back to him, but who would have thought it? the old villain set up quite another cry, howling, and saying at the top of his voice, “Friends, help me; help the poor blind man who is being robbed of his little all!” And laying fast hold of Bahadūr Singh’s “dhotee” or cloth, he made it appear as if some of his money had already been robbed from him.

Of course the crowd took the side of the blind man, so it was all in vain for Bahadūr Singh to try to get a hearing, and more than that, the crowd set upon him, and would have thrashed him unmercifully had he not made his escape, so he hurriedly left the scene and his money too.

But he was in a fearful rage, and vowed he would have his revenge, and going by a back way to his hut (for he found he was being pursued), he reached it unperceived.

Taking down his sword from the wall, he said to himself, “I know the place where the blind men live, and I know too that the old blind villain will be going home about dusk; I will lie in wait for him and cut him down.”

Bahadūr Singh’s heart, however, began to fail him, “for,” said he, “Is he not a blind man?” Yet the feelings of revenge had so worked him up, that he was furious at being so cunningly deceived and robbed.

In partial hiding he took up his post by the road-side, and he had not long to wait, for very soon the old blind villain hove in sight, tottering along and leaning on his staff. Bahadūr Singh drew his sword from its scabbard and looked first at it, and then at the old blind villain who was drawing nearer and nearer to him.

In an instant the brave feelings of his nature rose uppermost, for was he not Bahadūr? and addressing his sword, as the custom of Orientals often is, he said, “Oh! sword! thou hast been with me in many an honourable fight, and shall I now tarnish thy fair fame by using thee thus? No. I ask pardon, and return you to your scabbard without a stain.” And so saying he let the blind man pass.

But he determined upon following him, and if possible, to recover his money; whereupon he crept stealthily behind him and close upon his heels, and when the old blind villain arrived at his hut, Bahadūr Singh saw him open the door, and before he had time to close and fasten it from the inside, the brave soldier had managed to slip in too, and quite unheard. Keeping very silent, he watched the old villain take off his “kummul” and his wallet, and then make his way to a corner of the hut. He there took up a tile flush with the floor, and removed from a hole beneath it a “chattie,” or earthenware vessel, in which he was proceeding to put in from his wallet the money he had collected during the day. Bahadūr Singh saw his own hundred gold mohurs going in one by one, and then overheard the old blind villain say, “I have done well to day. I have here four hundred gold mohurs, and with this further one hundred, I shall have five hundred gold mohurs, and who so rich as I?” And then he carefully returned the “chattie” and put back the tile, feeling it over and over again to be sure that it was in its right place. He then returned to his “charpai,” or cot, and sat down, apparently to think a bit.

It was now Bahadūr Singh’s turn to try his luck at recovering his money; so moving very noiselessly, he crept to the money corner, lifted the tile, took out the “chattie,” and was getting back to a spot he had selected behind the “charpai,” when as ill-luck would have it, he struck against a shelf projecting from the wall, and the noise at once aroused the old blind villain, who rushed to the money corner, only to find that his store had vanished. He howled, he shouted at the top of his voice, he brandished about him his staff, smashing the water-pots, and deluging the hut with water, and it was only by great dexterity that Bahadūr Singh could keep behind him, and so avoid coming in contact either with him or his staff.

In a very short time, however, there came a knock at the door, and the old blind villain let in a stranger, who, to Bahadūr Singh’s relief, was, he noticed, also a blind man. The stranger called out, “What is all this noise about?” “Hai, Hai! Booh, Booh!” said the old blind villain; all my money is gone, and I am ruined for ever.” “Your money gone” he replied, “How can that be? Where did you put it?” “Here, here,” he said, pulling the stranger to the money corner. “But what a fool you were to keep it there! Why didn’t you do as I always do? When I get enough together to make up a gold mohur I sew it up into my turban.”

Bahadūr Singh, hearing this, at once by a quick and quiet movement reached forward and took off the turban of the stranger and put it aside, whereupon the stranger rushed at the old blind villain and said, “Why did you take my turban off and where is it?” “I didn’t,” he replied. “But you must have done so, for there is no one else here, and you want to take my money now, do you?” So saying, he went for the old blind villain, knocked him down on to the slushy floor, and pummelled him until he cried hard for mercy.

Bahadūr Singh, with something like a smile at seeing his enemy punished, then quitted the hut, leaving them to fight it out. He took with him the “chattie” and the gold mohurs, and left the turban behind.

He went straight to the village police, told the story, claimed only his own one hundred gold mohurs, and left with them the four hundred belonging to the old blind villain, which were there and then confiscated to the State.

So this old blind villain not only lost his money, but got a terrible thrashing into the bargain, and this tale is often told in the “Hûjrâhs,” or places of meeting of the village story-tellers, as a capital instance of how best to retaliate, and how cleverly the biter was bit.

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EXPLANATORY NOTES.

“_Nanak._”—This founder of the religious and warlike commonwealth of the Sikhs is so fully referred to by the able historians, “Hunter” and “Elphinstone,” that there is little new to tell of him beyond the folk-lore of the district to which these tales refer.

He flourished about the end of the fifteenth century, was a disciple of “Kabir,” and was a sort of Hindu deist, with universal toleration to all sects.

He is said to have ridiculed the religious washings and ablutions of the Brahmins by telling his hearers that if water will take you to Heaven, then what holy creatures the fish and frogs must be who are for ever in the water.

The religious divisions of the Sikhs are many, the principal being the Oodhāssee, Baydhee, Thayun, Bhullay, Sodhee, Akālis, Nahung, Giannee, Soothra, Ghoee, Bhaie, Nirmale, Naga, Mujbee, or Rung, Raytay, Guru ki bētah. In the time of their Gurus, Har Govind and Govind Singh Govind, the Sikhs assumed the title of “Singh,” signifying a champion or lion.

A tale is told in the Hazara district that “Nanak” once went in disguise to Mecca. Absorbed in his reflections, he lay down to rest for the night, and quite forgot that his feet were turned towards the “kaaba,” which is an insult to the Moslems.

He was aroused by a devout follower of the Prophet, and at once taxed with his breach of reverence and respect, and asked who and what he was.

“Nanak” replied,

Hindu kahen to marianh
Mussulman bhi na
Panj tutt ka pûthlâ
“Nanak” mera nâm.

Which translated will read,

If I say I am a Hindu you will kill me straight,
Though Mahomedan I cannot call myself;
I am rather a personation of the Five elements,
And my name is “Nanak.”

Another anecdote is given, viz., that when he visited the Chenāab on his way to Mūltān, he very much enraged some “Jogis,” a description of recluse penitents, who by means of mental and corporeal mortifications acquire the command over the powers of nature, as stated in previous notes.

These men did all they could by their powers of enchantments to terrify him. They assumed the shape of wild beasts and snakes, fell from Heaven in a shower of fire, and tore away the stars.

“Nanak” remained tranquil, and said, “A holy man needs no defence from such things; his defence is in the purity of his doctrine, and though the world may change, the Creator of it is immutable.”

These words brought them to his feet, and caused their miracles and enchantments to cease as if by magic.

“_Blind beggar._”—Many of the blind amongst the Mahomedans are styled “Hafiz,” which literally signifies in Arabic those of retentive memory, and who know the Qorân, or Furkān, by heart: “Furkān” meaning the book which distinguishes truth from falsehood.

These men live upon the alms of the faithful, and on festival days are employed to repeat the Qorân, being fed from day to day, and at the conclusion of the festival they are presented with a whole suit of clothes, from head to foot.

Occasionally they are known to earn money by lacing “charpais” with string or tape, which is quite an industry with them.

A blind man from the village of “Sheerka” used to be able to wander about in the jungle, and find his way back to his hut. He was familiar with the cries of many beasts and birds, and would imitate them most correctly.

If asked to thread a needle this man would place the needle and cotton beneath his tongue, and in a very short time pass the thread through the eye of the needle.

“_Kummul._”—From the Sanscrit word “Kammal,” meaning literally a blanket. It is made of coarse wool, loosely woven and soft in texture; the word in its second signification meaning “soft.” A small blanket is called a “Kumli.” In the winter, farmers and others in the district, wear them over their other clothes.

In days long gone by, when the district was under a native yoke, anyone found wearing a blanket, or as it was then locally called, a “Bhūra,” was liable to be pressed to labour for the State; so the farmers had a saying amongst themselves which ran thus:

Vassay meenh thay Bhoorah sheenh
Pavay Pallâh thay Bhoorah Shâllah
Yekho gul Bhoorah dhee marree
Thruth nappoundhâ Veegaree

TRANSLATION.

In the rains the blanket is as tough as a tiger;
In the cold the blanket has the place of a shawl;
It has, alas, but one reproach:
Seen on, whether far or near, ’tis the signal to be seized for work.

“_Wallet._”—In the original, the word is “Jhūli,” from the Hindustani language. It is carried over the arm by Fakirs and others.

“_Sword._”—In the original, “Tulwar,” from the Sanscrit, and sometimes as “Turwar,” a scimitar or sword. It is said that excellent swords used to be made at a place called Bunnū. To be wounded by one of them was thus expressed:

Lage Bunnoo Thaypah kanoo Bunnoo.

TRANSLATED THUS:

“Cut with a Bunnoo sword, of what use then to strap the wound?”

_Note._—The natives of the East often worship their swords and weapons, and it is known especially to be common in the Northern districts of India, and also among the Mahomedans in the Malay Peninsula (vide Crooke, and M^cNair’s “Perak and the Malays”, page 247). It is indeed a sort of fetish, and a belief that some mysterious power lurks within them.

In a village in the Jhelum district, there lived a noted ironsmith of the name of Aruf, who was famed for his sword blades, and the blades were termed Arfi, after his name.

Before anyone purchased a sword from him he would take a ramrod from a matchlock, and by a particular cut he would sever it in two, saying, “If it will cut iron, surely it will kill any man.”

He was so proud of his power that his daughter thought to humble him, so she asked if he would demonstrate to her how he made the wonderful cut. He agreed, and she, secreting behind her a small cane sought occasion to balk him. Just as he was making the cut she reached forth the cane, and he missed the correct angle of the cut and failed, “See,” she said, “it is easy to be proud of your sword-blades and to say that they will kill anyone, but how if an enemy should balk you as I have done? Then behold the result!”

In the district they have many kinds of swords, but some of the principal are the “Foulâdee,” the “Taygâ,” the “Sirôhhee,” and the “Sikaylâh.” These are all curved in the blade. They have a straight sword which they call a “Saif.”

The “Sirôhhee” is of polished steel, and rather brittle.

_Note._—There is a story told in the district that when “thuggism” was at its height, young men used to be decoyed to a retired spot in the jungles, where a most fascinating and beautiful “Thugin” resided. She had a native sort of seat, placed over a deep dry well; and though to all outward appearance it was firm and reliable, yet when any weight was put upon it, it suddenly gave way, and the unfortunate victim was sent to the bottom, where he was afterwards killed and robbed. Part of the proceeds went to the goddess “Kali,” and the remainder was divided amongst the gang.

Once a young Sipahi succeeded in evading the trap, and recovering himself he was attacked on all sides by thugs. Drawing his “Sirôhhee” he made a cut or two at them, but it suddenly snapped in his hand. He was, however, fleet of foot, and managed to escape.

Telling his friends of his adventures, he said, by way of caution,

Bandh Sirôhhee Bandho do
Bandh Sikaylâh to phir akela.

TRANSLATION.

If you carry a Sirôhhee, carry two;
If you carry a Sikaylâh, you may venture fearlessly alone.

The scabbards are made from thin wood, and covered with black or green leather. The woods used are sometimes the “Baid,” or willow, and the “Bakāyun,” one of the Meliaceæ of botanists. The hilts are frequently inlaid with gold and silver.

“_Bahadūr in a rage._”—He was ordinarily a quiet man, and when enraged his anger was relentless, according to their saying:

Murdhâ boleh nahin
Boleh thay kuffun paray.

TRANSLATION.

A corpse certainly cannot utter a word,
But if it should, it would cast away its shroud.

“_Gold Mohur._”—Also called “Ashrufee”—a gold coin worth about fifteen rupees.

“_Dhotee._”—Is a Sanscrit word, and is a cloth worn round the waist, and fastened by being tucked in behind, and the appearance becomes that of wide or narrow trousers. One of yellow silk, and made chiefly at Benares, is called a “Pīt-ambar,” also from the Sanscrit.

“_Kāāba._”—This is referred to under “Nanak” in these Notes, but it should be added, that it is the square building in Mecca, about 35 feet in height, and 40 feet square, making almost a “cube,” which “kābāh” means in Arabic. At the S.E. corner of this building is the famous black stone, or “Hajr-as-Saih” set in silver, which has to be touched with the right hand of the pilgrim, but Captain Burton said it was often kissed.

“_Kabir._”—Under this same heading also of “Nanak” in these Notes is a reference to this Fakir “Kabir.” The “Kabir-panthī” are a sect of Hindus numerous in Upper and Central India. They have quite a Quaker-like spirit, and have an abhorrence of all violence. Their commandments are limited to Five:

I.—Life must not be violated, for it is the gift of God.

II.—The blood of man or beast must not be shed.

III.—Man must never lie.

IV.—Man must practise asceticism, and do the duties of piety and
devotion.

V.—Man must obey the spiritual guide, the great “Kabir,” and sing
hymns in his praise.

“Kabir” died at Gorakhpūr, and both Moslems and Hindus claimed the right to bury him.

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● Transcriber’s Notes:
○ Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected.
○ Typographical errors were silently corrected.
○ Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only
when a predominant form was found in this book.
○ Text that was in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).