Chapter VIII: Part 8

"Nothing is too small, as nothing is too large, sahib," Akram Chunder said, "for the greed of Ghoolab Singh. He may now have a kingdom, but that will not prevent him from fleecing a trader if he has an opportunity. See how he has filled his coffers at the expense of the people. Has he not paid half a _crore_ of rupees to your people for Cashmere, and I doubt not he would have paid three times as much if it had been needed. There are many other sirdars could have paid the half crore, but they say that Ghoolab could buy up any four of them. It is true there is no fear that he will now try to seize the colonel sahib's government by force, at least until fresh troubles begin; but if he can have him quietly removed you may be sure he will do so, as he could then easily enough get the maharanee and the Lahore durbar to confirm the former appointment of his son as governor.

"The colonel need no longer fear force, but he must be more than ever on his guard against treachery. Still, sahib, I agree with you that just at present Ghoolab must have too many things to think of to be giving attention to your matter, and that we can travel without fear of him. As for the _budmashes_, we shall have to be careful of them, as my comrade says; and we must mind that no one suspects for a moment that you are English; for although the people here are respectful enough, you may be sure that outside the range of your guns there is not a Sikh, save perhaps the humblest cultivators, who is not full of rage and hatred against the English. Have you not defeated them in four battles, humbled their national pride, and taken their richest province? To be suspected of being an Englishman would be your death-warrant in the smallest village of the Punjaub. The sahib would do well to-morrow not to wear his dress of a sirdar, but to dress as he did when we visited the camp of Tej Singh. Then, if we are questioned, it is we who will do the talking; while, if you are dressed as a chief, it is to you the questions will be put. Besides, most of the sirdars are known by name, at least to the bulk of the people, and it would be difficult for you to reply to close questioning; whereas, passing as disbanded soldiers, who are tired of doing nothing in our native village, and are going north to take service with Ghoolab Singh, our story is simple and natural enough."

"But Ghoolab himself cannot be popular in the country at present," Percy said; "they must all see now that he has been playing a double part; and that he has, moreover, wrenched from the Punjaub a territory as valuable as that which we took after such hard fighting."

"That is so, but Ghoolab is everywhere feared; no man offends him or his without paying for it; and besides, they may hope that if there is again trouble, Ghoolab may join them against the British. They may not like him, but there must be many disbanded soldiers who have been going to take service under him, and the people will bear us no ill-will for that: it is the most likely story for us to tell, and the one that will be least questioned."

"I think you are right, Akram Chunder; at any rate I will ride to-morrow dressed as you are."

The next morning they started from Lahore at daybreak, and rode north. They had agreed to travel by the main road, as they would there attract no attention; whereas passing through villages on unfrequented roads, their passage would excite comment. After riding for fifteen miles they came upon a party of ten men, evidently disbanded soldiers, seated in the shade of a clump of trees by the roadside, cooking their breakfast.

"Better stop and talk with them," Bhop Lal said; "it will look strange if we ride on."

They reined in their horses, and Bhop Lal gave the usual salutation. After the customary return of greetings, one of the men said, "Will you not dismount and share our breakfast?"

"We took food before we started from Lahore," Bhop Lal replied.

"Ah, you came from Lahore: what is the last news there?"

"There is nothing new, everything is quiet, and they say that most of the English will soon march away."

"We will make short work of the maharanee and her son as soon as they go," the man said savagely. "They are but puppets now in the hands of the English, and have signed away the best doab in the Punjaub so as to buy protection for Dhuleep Singh. He is no longer a Sikh prince, and we will speedily place one of our own sirdars on the throne."

"That is what we all mean to do," Bhop Lal agreed; "we want no boy as our ruler now, but a sirdar who can lead us to battle. It will be different next time; last time we despised the English, and so they beat us; next time it will be they who will make too sure, and we shall beat them."

"Where are you going?"

"We are thinking of taking service under Ghoolab Singh."

"The old fox is a traitor," the man said angrily, while a general murmur broke from his comrades.

"There is no doubt that he played us false," Bhop Lal agreed; "but now that he is master of Cashmere he may think it his interest to go with us next time; and besides, at present his gold is as good as another's, and none of the other sirdars will increase their forces until the English have retired; so there is just the choice of taking service with Ghoolab or of starving."

"There is no occasion to starve for those who have got arms," the man said; "and we find it easier to help ourselves and to be our own masters than to serve anyone else. You had better join us, comrades."

"Thank you; we have thought it over, you may be sure; but we have had enough of marching about and sleeping in the air for the present, and we are likely at any rate to sleep and eat our meals in peace with Ghoolab. There is little chance of any rising for a long time yet, and till then, at any rate, there will be peace in Cashmere. When fighting begins again here, we have made up our minds to come back, if we find that Ghoolab has forgotten that he is a Sikh. And now, with your permission, we will be riding on," and Bhop Lal turned his horse, and with his companions trotted off.

"We got through that well enough," Percy remarked.

"They did not think we were worth robbing, sahib; and as we are well armed, it would not have been worth their while to meddle with us. Besides, you see their horses are on the other side of the grove, and they must have noticed that we were well mounted, and could have got a long start before they were off. It is as likely as not that they did not believe my story, but thought we were on our way to join some other band we knew of. I have no fear of these fellows if we meet them openly in the daytime. The danger will be if we come upon them suddenly, and they attack us before they see what we are."

In the course of the day they passed several parties of threes and fours, sometimes mounted and sometimes on foot; but they did not draw rein, and contented themselves with the exchange of passing salutations. Only once they came upon a large party. It consisted of twenty carts laden with merchandise, and escorted by some thirty men armed to the teeth.

"You see they get employment both ways, sahib," Akram Chunder remarked; "some of them make money by turning robbers, others make money by selling their services to merchants to protect their goods from robbers. No doubt those carts are on their way down from Serinagur and Jummoo, and are laden with shawls and embroidery, and such other goods as the merchants think the English officers at Lahore will be glad to buy to send home to their friends."

"I should think they will make a good venture," Percy said, "for the bazaars at Lahore are very poorly stocked. Trade has been bad there for a long time, owing to the troubles and disturbances, and I hear that many of the traders who had remained fled when the news came of the defeat at Sobraon, fearing that the English army would act as the Sikhs would have done under the circumstances, and would march straight to Lahore and plunder the city. What part of Cashmere do you come from, Akram?"

"From the hills fifty miles north of Serinagur. Cashmere has no authority there, and the hill tribes have their wars with each other without interference. I was fifteen when our village was attacked and destroyed by a tribe we had raided a few months before. Most of the people were killed, but I was fleet-footed and got away. I worked for a time at Serinagur, but got tired of carrying burdens from morning till night, so I went on to Jummoo, and stopped there for three or four years; and then, when I was about one-and-twenty, went down to Lahore, and finding it hard work to get a living in any other way, I took service in Runjeet Singh's army, and had the good luck to enlist in the regiment of my lord your uncle, and there I have remained ever since. It was a lucky day when I chose his regiment, and I did so because I heard two soldiers in the street speak well of him. Had I been in one of the others, I should most likely have fallen at Ferozeshah or Sobraon, even if I hadn't been killed before."

That night they slept at a khan in the town. There were but few other guests, and the keeper of the place bitterly bemoaned the change of times.

"In the days of Runjeet," he said, "there were seldom less than a hundred travellers stopping here nightly; after his death the number fell to about twenty, for who would go to Lahore if he could help it, when, for aught he knew, he might find fighting going on in the streets, or the city being sacked when he arrived there? Now it is rare for more than three or four to pass the night here; no one will travel for trade or for pleasure; no one will go to Lahore as long as the English are there. Sometimes, it is true, a caravan comes down, such as that which stayed here last night; but there are few of these, and were it not for the passage of those who, like yourselves, are on their way to their homes, or to take service in Cashmere, I might as well close and lock the gates, and go away to earn my bread at some other business. The country is being ruined fast. There are even those who say that it would be better the English should come and be our masters; there would be peace then, and they would soon put a stop to robbery and dacoitism, as they have done wherever they have established their rule, and the peasants would be able to plough their fields, and the traders to carry on their business without fear of any man so long as they paid their taxes and kept the law. I do not say that those are my opinions," he added hastily, "but I know that such is the talk among the peasants, who have had, it must be owned, a rough time since Runjeet Singh died. Heavily taxed they were in his time, but beyond that they had nought to complain of; but of late, what with one trouble and another, their lot has been hard."

"There is no doubt about that," Bhop Lal agreed heartily. "I have been a soldier, but I have been a peasant too, and know where the shoe pinches. Perhaps things will be better now."

The man shrugged his shoulders. "I see not how this is to be," he said; "the Lahore durbar is under the protection of foreigners, and no one heeds it, as it has no power save in the city. Better a thousand times a prince who can make himself obeyed, even were it Ghoolab Singh, or else a strong foreign rule. I would rather have a native prince; but far better than the nominal rule of a boy, protected by foreign bayonets, would be the rule of the foreigners themselves, for they, at least, can make the law respected, punish ill-doers, and preserve peace and order."

"I fancy there are a great many who think as you do," Bhop Lal said; "but these for the most part keep their thoughts to themselves. Well, we shall see what we shall see. Things will never go on long as they are at present; and, as you say, the Punjaub will either be ruled by a strong native prince, or it will, like Scinde, become a possession of the English. I have had enough of fighting, and mean to remain quiet until one or other of these things comes about."

"There are many like you; but some of the soldiers who come through say they would like to fight the English again."

"Then take my word for it," a soldier sitting by said, "the men who said that were not among those who fought on the Sutlej. There were brave men there, and plenty of them, but I do not believe one of those that fought there will ever wish to fight the white troops again. There was no withstanding them. They came on as if they minded the rain of iron and lead no more than if it had been a thunder-shower. It was that which beat us; we were told by our chiefs that it was impossible, absolutely impossible, for men to force their way into our lines, and when we saw them do it, we said to ourselves it is hopeless to fight against such men; and we who, under Runjeet, have won victory after victory, and that against stout fighters like the Afghans, lost heart for the first time in our lives, when we felt that we, though two to one, were no match for these terrible soldiers."

"Is it true," the keeper of the khan asked, "as all have told me, that they neither plunder nor rob; and though really masters of Lahore, the English go about quietly, ill-treating none?"

"It is quite true; they have discipline; brave as these men are, they are quiet and orderly, as our troops never were even in the days when Runjeet was strong and firm. Not a man has been robbed, nor a woman insulted, since they crossed the Sutlej. They are our enemies, but they are a great people."

"If you have aught to lose, gentlemen," the other said, "be careful how you ride to-morrow; scarce one has arrived from the north for the last week who does not complain bitterly of being robbed on the way. Some were wounded sorely, having ventured on resistance. They say there are as many as two hundred disbanded soldiers lurking among the woods and bushes between this and the next town. The Sirdar Lal Mizrah, moved by the complaints of the country people, cleared the road of them a few days since, breaking up their parties, and killing many; therefore, at present they are more cautious. That is how the convoy got through safely yesterday. I should advise you, therefore, to travel by country roads, though even these are not safe, for the robbers, finding that people have deserted the main road and have taken to these paths, have beset them also."

"We have nothing to lose but our lives," Bhop Lal said, "but as these are somewhat precious to us, we will take all the care we can to avoid these gentry you speak of."

After a consultation with Percy, it was agreed that, as time was no particular object, they would strike off at once to the west, travel for a day in that direction, and then make north, thereby getting well out of the line followed by travellers from Lahore.

"After having been through three battles," Percy said, "it would be folly to risk getting our throats cut merely for the sake of saving a day's journey."

Accordingly the next morning they took this route. They passed several villages in the course of the day; as they were seen approaching, men and women ran into their houses and closed the doors, and not a soul was to be seen in the streets as they passed through.

"We need not have been afraid of being questioned," Percy said; "it is evident that the whole population of the country is scared by the exactions of these disbanded soldiers, and that they are only too glad to see us pass by without interfering with them. It would have been well for the country if the Sutlej had risen another foot on the day of the storming of Sobraon, it would have relieved the country of some thousands more of these plunderers."

They met with no adventure whatever until they arrived within a few miles of the fortress. Then, as they were riding along through a wood, a party of men on foot suddenly sprang out from among the trees. Before they had time to draw their swords Akram Chunder and Percy were struck from their horses. Bhop Lal, who happened to be a horse's length behind his comrades, snatched his pistol from his belt, and shot two of the assailants; then a ball from a matchlock struck him, and he fell from his horse. As he lay he was gashed with a dozen severe wounds, and was speedily stripped of his arms and clothes; the party then gathered round the two prisoners.

"I know this man," one of them said, stooping over Akram Chunder; "he is one of the men at the white colonel's fortress. I know him because he was servant to one of the officers, and when I went in there with ghee, he bought some of me and came back accusing me of having sold him false weight. He fetched his master, who examined my scales, and found that somehow a bit of lead had got stuck under one of them, and the villain had me flogged, and told me if ever I entered the place again he would cut off my ears. I swore I would pay this fellow out some day, and having changed my appearance somewhat went back some time ago to find him and pay him with a knife stab if I got a chance, but I heard from a friend I had there that he had gone away; he had ridden off with a party that went with the colonel's nephew. The rest had returned all but this fellow and another; and as it was just when the war broke out, it was supposed they had gone with the young sahib to act as his servants, for both were accustomed to that sort of work."

"Well, there are three of them here," the other said; "maybe it is a lucky day for us, and that the third of them is the white lad."

"Sure enough it's the governor's nephew," one of the men exclaimed as he walked across to Percy, who was lying a little apart. "I have seen him a dozen times at the fortress."

"Then this is a fortunate day for us indeed," the leader of the party exclaimed; "put them both on their horses again and mount without delay; we will settle what to do with them afterwards. We have two strings to our bow: it is certain that we can get a handsome ransom from the colonel, but I fancy Ghoolab Singh would give us still more. You remember the talk there was of a party of his men lying in ambush here to capture this lad as he came up two years ago; and everyone knows it was his doing that the place was besieged three months since."

"Would it not be as well to give this fellow a stab and leave him here?" the man who had recognized Akram Chunder asked.

"Not at all," the leader said harshly; "at any rate not at present. We may find him useful if we want to send a messenger in to the white colonel. Besides, if we ransom the boy to his uncle it is no use setting him against us by killing his servant. Even if the colonel agreed to leave us unmolested, some of his men might take the matter up and make the country too hot for us. I am always against killing unless there is something to be gained by it, and I see nothing to be gained by this fellow's death."

Percy had been stunned by the blow from the heavy cudgel that struck him off his horse, but he heard the latter part of the conversation. He knew that resistance would be fatal, and submitted quietly to be placed on his horse. His hands were first bound in front of him, the reins were then cut, and two horsemen, one on either side of him, took the ends. Akram Chunder was similarly treated, and, surrounded by the whole party, numbering about twenty, they rode off. By their dress and attire he judged the men into whose hands they had fallen were not discharged soldiers but regular dacoits, and when he heard one of them address the leader by the name of Goolam Tej, he recognized it as that of a dacoit who had for years been a scourge to that part of the country, although he had seldom ventured to molest the villages in the colonel's district, knowing how speedy and relentless would be the pursuit. He had heard numberless stories of the atrocities committed by this band; how they had tortured men and women to force them to reveal the hiding-places of their money; how they had slaughtered not only those who ventured to offer resistance, but their wives and families. However, he had no fear as to his own safety; there was nothing to be made by killing him, while there might be a large sum to be obtained as a ransom from his uncle or by his sale to Ghoolab Singh.

The band were all mounted on wiry little ponies, and for some hours they rode at a rapid pace. They halted in a wood at the foot of the hills. Here the leader, upon asking the question whether any of them had ascertained beyond the possibility of doubt that the man they had left behind was dead, was furious at finding that none of them had done so. The men who had stripped him declared they felt quite certain of it: "He had half a dozen wounds any one of which must have killed him," one of them said; "and that being so, I did not think of putting my hand on his heart to feel if it beat. Make yourself easy, Goolam Tej, the fellow is dead beyond all doubt."

"There is never any saying," his leader replied; "some men are so tough that they get over wounds which should have been sufficient to kill them a dozen times. It is always well to make sure, either by a stroke with a dagger through the heart, or by cutting off the head. There is no great trouble about either job, and it prevents mistakes occurring. If I determine on sending to Ghoolab Singh first, I don't want the colonel to know what has happened till we are at the other end of the country. If that fellow should be found on the road, and his wounds bound up, he may recover so far as to tell them what has happened, and then we shall have the colonel scouring the whole country with his force. Besides, he may send to Lahore and lay a complaint before the durbar, and as he and the boy are English they would get up a hue and cry after us through the whole of the Punjaub. I daresay the man is dead, still there ought not to be a possibility of a doubt about it, and I blame myself as much as I do you for not having given a thought to the matter."

On dismounting, Percy's legs were firmly bound, and he was laid down on the ground at a short distance from his follower, a dacoit with a gun and sword taking his seat by each of them, so that even conversation was impossible. The next morning they started up the hills, and after some hours' riding crossed the crest, and then, leaving the bridle-path by which they had travelled, dismounted and led their horses along the steep face of the hill until they reached a perpendicular crag standing out from it, upon the summit of which stood a castellated building. A long shed had been erected upon a comparatively flat piece of ground among the trees at its foot; into this the dacoits led their ponies, and then mounted, a path a few inches wide cut in the rock, and leading up to a strong door which gave access to the building. A watchman on the wall had seen them coming, and as they entered they were greeted with cries of joy by a number of women.

Percy saw at once that the building was ancient, but that it had recently been roughly repaired, and doubted not that it was a deserted fortalice that the band had occupied and made their head-quarters. During that day's ride the dacoits had taken the precaution of bandaging the eyes of their prisoners, and only unloosened the wraps when, on nearing the place, the ground had become so steep and difficult that it was necessary for them to have the use of their eyes. The prisoners were taken to a small room in a little tower at one of the angles of the building, their cords were then unloosened, and they were left alone together.

"This is a nice fix that we are in, Akram Chunder," Percy said.

"It is, indeed, sahib. I care not so much for myself, but to think that you, after going through those battles, should be seized by these robbers within a few miles of home, cuts me to the heart."

"I am awfully sorry for Bhop Lal," Percy said. "Do you think he was killed?"

"That I cannot say, not having seen his wounds, but if they were not in a vital place he may live through them, for he is as hard as a piece of iron, and was not given to drink. Men who drink have but little chance of making a good recovery. He would have the sense, I know, to lie still and sham dead; but I hope ere this he may have carried the news to your uncle. He would obtain help and assistance from the first passer-by when he told his story, for there is not a peasant in the district who does not love the colonel."

*CHAPTER XII.*

*A PRISONER*

Percy went to the window and looked out. There were three of these, mere arrow slits, and from each of them he had a view of the wood stretching away down the hillside into a narrow valley, which a short distance down took a turn and the hills cut off further view.

"Where are we, think you, Akram Chunder?"

"I have no idea, sahib, beyond the fact that by the position of the sun we are looking eastward. I should say the place where we halted yesterday was some thirty miles to the north-east of the fortress; it may have been more, but it certainly was not less, or I would have known the country. To-day we were mounting all the time till the last hour, and then I could feel that we descended sharply. I should say that we were some six hours on horseback; we travelled part of the way at a trot, but more often walked, so at five miles an hour we should be thirty from our camp of last night. If we travelled straight to the east all the time we may have crossed the main crest of the hills; if not, we may be anywhere among them, for they tied the bandages so carefully over my eyes that I could see nothing, not even the road under the horse's feet."

"It would not have helped you much had you done so," Percy said with a laugh; "one road is a good deal like another."

"The shadows would have shown me the direction in which we were travelling, sahib, more accurately than I could tell by the heat of the sun."

"So they would, Akram. I did not think of that. At any rate we may take it that we are in some very out-of-the-way spot, where it would be difficult for anyone to find us without a guide."

"That is so, sahib. I can see nothing but trees, and no signs of human handiwork. This place could not be seen at a great distance, for it does not rise very much above the tops of the trees. The rock was about thirty feet high where we mounted it, though it must be well-nigh double that on the lower face. The building itself is not any great height; though it could be seen well enough from that valley down there, it could not be made out from above, and even from the hillside was scarcely visible. It would be a difficult place to capture except by a force provided with cannon, for it occupies the whole of the top of this crag, and, as far as I could see, that is quite unclimbable except by the path up which we mounted. Above the gate there was a projecting turret, and the loopholes of those at the corners both commanded it. A dozen men with muskets ought to be able to hold that path against any number; for even if they got up to the gate, I noticed as I entered that there are holes in the floor of the turret above by which they could fire down or pour hot lead on the heads of any trying to break open the gate."

"You heard what they said about the ransom?"

"I heard them, sahib, and only hope that they will go direct to the colonel; but I am afraid they will try Ghoolab Singh first. They know that he has plenty of money in his treasure-chests."

"I am afraid so too, Akram. The fact that Ghoolab tried to catch me before shows that he thinks he could work upon my uncle through me; and as he seems to have set his mind upon obtaining possession of the fortress, I should think he would pay any sum these scoundrels elected to ask."

The man nodded. "He will pay anything, sahib; it is not only that he wants the place, but that he owes the colonel a grudge for having held it so stoutly in spite of him, and Ghoolab never forgets an injury or forgives one he hates."

"I see no chance of making our escape," Percy said, again examining the windows.

"None, sahib; a rat could hardly creep through these loopholes, and had we means to cut away the stone we should be no nearer escape, unless we had also a rope, and that a long one, for we are at the lower angle of the rock, and I should say these loopholes must be eighty feet above the ground. We have nothing to make a rope of, as you see they have stripped me to my _cumberband_, and have taken away your coat; so our clothes, if torn up and twisted together, would scarce make a rope eighty feet long that would support its own weight. I see no shadow of a chance of escape that way, nor in any way if the guard is vigilant. We may have a better chance if we are taken to Ghoolab; he would not have us at Jummoo, for should any complaint be laid against him on your account, he would, of course, deny that he knows aught about you; but wherever we are taken, we shall probably find better chances of escape than there are here. Once free, we might manage; it is not likely that any of these dacoits can know that I'm from Cashmere, and you may be sure I shall not let them find out that I speak the language. If we could get out, then, I could pass as a peasant, and however hot the pursuit, we ought to be able to evade it."

Five days passed; the prisoners had nothing to complain of in their treatment, being kept well supplied with food. This was always brought in by two armed men, while two others stood at the door, partly, Percy guessed, to prevent any attempt to escape, partly to see that they held no conversation with those who brought in the food.

"They can't trust each other," Akram Chunder said; "they know well enough that the bribe you could offer for assistance to escape would be too much for any single dacoit to resist, and their leader is wise not to trust them."

"The sooner we are out of this the better," Percy said. "I am heartily tired of looking out of these loopholes, and don't care how soon I am on my way to Cashmere. How long will it be, do you think, before a message can come from Ghoolab Singh?"

"If he is at Jummoo a messenger should be able to go and come in five or six days, sahib; but it will probably be some little time before he can get an interview with Ghoolab. This is the fifth day since we were brought here; if we hear nothing to-morrow it will be either that he is not there, or that the dacoit has demanded so large a sum for you that he is unwilling to give it. Ghoolab is too fond of money to pay if he can help it; and it is quite possible that when the messenger gets there he will seize and torture him until he reveals the position of this place, and will then send a force to capture you without the necessity of paying for you. I wonder whether the dacoits have foreseen that possibility. It is just the sort of thing that Ghoolab would delight in."

"I hope he won't attempt anything of the sort," Percy said; "if the dacoits find themselves surrounded and attacked here, they would likely enough avenge themselves upon him by cutting our throats before his men could force their way in."

"That is just what they would do, sahib; but as Ghoolab would foresee the risk, it will, I hope, prevent him from carrying out that plan. He will learn from the messenger that the place can hardly be taken by a sudden surprise, and, therefore, he may think it better to pay the sum demanded, provided it is not too large, to running the risk of losing you altogether. He would not be ill-pleased to hear of your death, for he would reckon that were you out of the way, sooner or later the fortress and district would fall into his hands; but doubtless he would rather have you, in order that he may drive a good bargain with the colonel and get him to hand the place over in exchange for you."

"I hope my uncle will do nothing of the sort," Percy said.

Akram Chunder shook his head. "You are his son by adoption," he said, "and to save your life he will give up the fortress."

"Well, I hope at any rate he will negotiate for some time, Akram, in which case it will be hard if we don't manage to slip away somehow. I wish we had our knives with us."

"What for, sahib? The stonework of the windows is solid, and it would take us an immense time to enlarge one of the loopholes so that we could slip through."

"I was not thinking of that; but if we had our knives we could get off one of the back legs of the _charpoy_, so that its loss would not be noticed, and cut it up into wedges, which we could drive in all round the door if we heard a row going on outside. The door is a very strong one, and if we could fasten it like that inside they might not be able to break it open before Ghoolab's men could fight their way in."

"That is a good idea, sahib, and if we had knives we would carry it out, but without them I don't see that we could do anything. We might move the two _charpoys_ against the door, but half a dozen men pushing on the other side would soon drive them out of the way."

"No, there is nothing to be done," Percy agreed; "and I do hope that Ghoolab will quite see that in the event of his trying to take the place, the dacoits will be pretty sure to finish me before his men can get in."

That evening they unlashed the thin binding that held one of the beds together, and each armed himself with one of the legs.

"It is not much of a weapon," Percy said, "but it is something anyhow, and it would be a thousand times better to make a fight of it than to stand still and have one's throat cut. We will take it by turns to keep awake to-night, so as to hear if there is anything stirring."

The night, however, passed without any unusual sound being heard. Just after daybreak they heard a shout.

"That is likely to be the messenger returning," Akram Chunder said. "If it had been an enemy, they would have come in the dark."

"But they would not be able to find their way," Percy objected.

"They would make the messenger act as their guide, sahib; there would be no difficulty about that. Besides if it had been an enemy, we should have heard other shouts; the whole place would be in a turmoil. I have no doubt that it is the messenger, and we shall presently hear what Ghoolab says."

An hour passed, and then the door opened and the men brought in food. "You are to eat this quickly," one said, speaking for the first time since they had been imprisoned; "you have to mount and ride in a quarter of an hour; and Goolam Tej bade me tell you that you had best eat a good meal, for you have a long ride before you, and may not get another before nightfall."

When, after eating a hearty meal, Percy and his follower mounted and made off, escorted by twelve of the dacoits, they congratulated themselves that they had escaped the danger they feared.

"I think that your life is quite safe now, sahib," Akram said. "Whatever Ghoolab Singh may threaten, he will scarcely venture to do you harm. He was always opposed to war with the English, knowing that they would assuredly defeat the soldiers, and he is far-sighted enough to see that ere long the Punjaub will belong to them. It is true that another time the Sikhs might put a larger force in the field than that with which they last fought; but so can the English, for had the war lasted two weeks longer, the army that was coming up from Scinde would have joined that which fought at Sobraon and would have well-nigh doubled its strength. This being so, Ghoolab Singh, who has received the kingdom of Cashmere at the hands of the English, would fear that, did he murder one of your race, troubles would arise when the English became masters of the Punjaub. In the case of your uncle he would have no scruples, for, as all know, Englishmen who take service with native princes do so without the consent of their government, and forfeit all right to their protection. Besides, it will be represented that the colonel was in fact a rebel against the durbar, since he held by force the government of which he had been deprived by the orders of Runjeet Singh and his ministers, and that his life was thereby forfeited. He may not know that you have been serving as an officer in the English army; but you must let him hear that, and that the governor-general himself has promised you an appointment in the Company's service, and has taken great interest in you, and that, should anything befall you, he will assuredly punish whoever may be the author of the deed. I think that if Ghoolab had known that, he would not have accepted the dacoits' offer. Before, you were only a relative of a man with no friends save his own soldiers, and had he executed you publicly as a rebel in the market-place of Jummoo there would have been no one to gainsay him. But now that you are known to the governor-general and the commander-in-chief, he will see that he cannot act as he will without drawing upon himself the anger of the English authorities, when the colonel reports the fact to them."

"There is something in that, Akram, but not much. Were he asked to explain why he had put one of English blood to death, he would simply reply that he was the nephew of a man who had set the government of Lahore at defiance, had maintained himself by arms, had inflicted heavy losses on the force sent to place the lawful governor appointed by the durbar in power; that the person executed had taken part in this act of rebellion, and that his life was justly forfeited. As all this would be in a way true, there could really be no answer to it, and the English would certainly not embroil themselves with a powerful prince, with whom they were anxious to keep on good terms, on such a matter. Still, if I do see Ghoolab himself, I shall certainly make the most of the kind expressions of Sir Henry Hardinge and the commander-in-chief when I left them at Lahore. I should hardly think, however, that he will see me. He would prefer being able to deny, without chance of contradiction, that he knew anything at all about me."

"But in that case, sahib, how could he use you as the means of forcing the colonel to give up the fortress and his governorship of the district?"

"I should think that most likely he will send word to my uncle that he has learned I have fallen into the hands of some dacoits, and that if my uncle will surrender the fortress he will take measures to rescue me from these men, who will otherwise put me to death."

"The colonel will never believe that," Akram said decidedly; "he will guess at once that you are in the hands of Ghoolab."

"Very likely he will, Akram, but he won't be able to prove it, and Ghoolab will know well enough that if he were to put me out of the way my uncle could not accuse him of my death, as he would have no evidence of my death to produce in support; and indeed, if Bhop Lal recovered and took him the news of our being carried off, all he could say would be a confirmation of Ghoolab's story, and would show that I had indeed been carried off by a band of dacoits. It will most likely be known that Goolam Tej's band were in the neighbourhood, and were doubtless the party who attacked us."

Akram Chunder was silent. He could not gainsay Percy's argument, and it seemed to him that Ghoolab Singh had indeed the game completely in his hands.

"I am afraid it is as you say, sahib," he remarked after a while, "and that we shall have, as we agreed, to slip out of their hands somehow. I see no chance at present."

"Certainly not," Percy agreed; "we have no arms, and though they have not tied us this time, they must be sure that we dare not try to escape, surrounded as we are by them, for they would be able to shoot us down before we had ridden ten yards. Moreover, the wood is too dense for us to force our way through, and even if we got away at first, we should be overtaken."

The road they were traversing was a mere track cut through the dense forest, and it was with difficulty that they rode two abreast. Six of the dacoits rode ahead of them, six behind, those immediately following them having, as they observed when they mounted, their pistols in their hands, in readiness to shoot at the first indication of an attempt to escape.

"Do you think we are going towards Jummoo?" Percy asked after they had ridden for some three hours.

"I cannot say for certain, sahib, but I think not. I feel sure that Jummoo lies much to the right, and I believe that we shall come down into the valley of Cashmere somewhere between that and Serinagur. Winding about as we have been doing in the bottom of valleys, it is very difficult to judge which way we are really going."

"I agree with you, Akram. I have been watching the way in which the sun falls upon us, and as you say, though we have wound and turned a good deal, I do not think we have ridden to the right as we should have done had we been making for Jummoo. It does not make much difference whether we are taken there or to Serinagur," Percy said; "the end of the journey will be a prison in any case."

"There is no doubt about that, but I would rather they took us to Serinagur, sahib. Ghoolab Singh has been years at Jummoo, and you may be sure that in that time he has built new and strong prisons, from which it would be very hard to escape. Serinagur is an old place, and its prisons would not be like those of Jummoo, and ought to be much easier to get out of; besides, being so much farther from the frontier, they might not watch us so closely, thinking we should know it would be next to impossible for men ignorant of the language to make their way down the valley, however disguised."

Half an hour later they passed through a village, and as the forest thinned as they approached it, and the path became broader, the dacoits closed in on both sides of the prisoners and completely surrounded them. The inhabitants fled into their houses as the troop rode through. No halt was made, and they presently came upon a broad road, and following this again began to mount. All day they travelled among very lofty hills, but towards evening made a long and steep descent.

"I think I know that last pass we went through," Akram Chunder said; "I believe we are now descending into the valley of Cashmere. If I am right, this road will fall into it ten miles below Serinagur."

Shortly afterwards a halt was called, the dacoits turned their horses loose to graze, and proceeded to light a fire to cook the food they had brought with them. They gave the prisoners a share, but when the meal was concluded tied them securely hand and foot and placed two guards over them. These were relieved at short intervals, and one of the men kept the fire burning briskly. Percy woke several times in the night, and each time found the guard vigilant; and being convinced that there was no possibility of an escape while in their charge, he at once went off to sleep again.

In the morning their bonds were loosed, and they resumed their journey. About mid-day they came down into a wide flat valley. A large river meandered with many turns and windings down it, and smaller streams fell into it at many points.

"Are those small rivers for the most part navigable?" Percy asked, pointing to the silver threads among the bright green expanse of vegetation.

"Yes, sahib, the rivers are the roads throughout the valley; it is by them that the peasants take in their products to Serinagur. I do not say they would carry a large barge, but small boats can make their way along them right up to the foot of the hills."

"It must be a very rich country judging from the numbers of villages scattered about."

"It is, sahib; with good government Cashmere would be a paradise. It is never very hot or very cold; the air is soft and balmy, the soil is so rich that everything grows in abundance with but little trouble to the cultivator; he has but to gather his crops and pitch them into his boat, and he can make his way to market without the necessity for horse or bullock. But the government is bad, and has been so for long. Ghoolab is a hard master, but no harder than its former rulers have been. The people would be rich and contented indeed under such a rule as that of the English, firm and just, for in addition to agriculture they have many other means of earning their living, there are the shawl-weavers and silver workers, and those who paint on lacquer, and every member of the family can help to earn something.

"The mountains abound with game, and there is pasturage for countless flocks and herds. The poets of India have always sung of Cashmere as the fairest and most blest by nature of any spot south of the Hindoo Koosh; and they have not spoken a bit too strongly. With good rulers it would be that and much more. The fault is that the country is so fair, the climate so balmy, and life so easy, that the people are too soft in their habits to make good soldiers, and the country has therefore been overrun countless times by more warlike races. At present the Sikhs are masters, but their rule is likely to be even shorter than that of others who have conquered it. When the English are lords of the Punjaub, they will see how fair and how rich is this valley of Cashmere, and that they have but to stretch out their hand to take it. It will be a blessed day indeed for the people when they do so."

"I don't think they want further conquests, Akram; they would gladly have left the Punjaub alone, but they were forced against their will into annexing first the provinces beyond the Sutlej, now Jalindar, and next time perhaps the rest of the country, but there can be no aggressions from Cashmere."

"No, sahib, but the same necessity may arise here as elsewhere. The English hate oppression, and if Ghoolab or his successors grind down the people beyond a certain point, they will interfere. Moreover, Cashmere is necessary to them. Through it runs the best road over the great northern chain of mountains. It is, quite as much as Afghanistan, the door of India, and round the valley at its northern end are troublesome tribes, whom the rulers of Cashmere have never been able to keep in order; the boundaries of China are not far away. A generation or two at the outside and the English will be rulers at Serinagur I think, sahib. What a blessing it would be to the country! In the first place, there would be neither over-taxation nor oppression. All would live and till their lands and work their loom, secure of enjoying their earnings in peace. Money would flow into the country, for the sahibs would come in great numbers from the plains, for health and for sport, and would spend their money freely, and would buy our manufactures from the weavers and silversmiths at first hand, while now they have to be sent down to market at great expense, and in troublous times at great risk. There, you see, sahib, we are taking the northern road; in two hours we shall be at Serinagur."

"All the better, Akram; this is a lovely view, and I should be a long time before I was tired of looking at it; but I am eager to see what kind of a place we are going to be shut up in so as to judge our chance of escape. I wish we could get hold of a couple of long knives and hide them somewhere about us, before we reach the town;" for the clothes they had worn when they were captured had been restored to them before starting.