Chapter II

The next few days Gilbert found himself cast on his own resources, for the condition of the mine was such as to require Frank's uninterrupted attention, and the lad, of course, could be of no use; the mere fact of seeing after him would have been a hindrance. The exploits of Hari Rām still retained their charm for him; he was never tired of talking of him, and he went about with the police officer gathering information as to the man's doings, to the great amusement of the station.

Scarcely a day passed but complaints were brought of robberies committed in the district by Hari Rām's gang. The authorities seemed perfectly incapable of tackling these men. They were utterly fearless, and roved about with impunity. In appearance and dress--if a dhoti[8] can be dignified by that name--they were just like the ordinary native, so it was difficult to identify them....

[8] Loin cloth.

"Gilbert Lindsay!"

The lad started up in bed, and by the light of the moon saw Jenkins, the police superintendent, standing in the doorway.

"We've had a notice," he said, "and we're off, if you like to come with us."

"Rather!" answered Gilbert.

"Then hurry up," said Jenkins, "there's no time to be lost."

Gilbert needed no second bidding, slipped into his clothes, saying as he passed Frank's door--

"I'm off with Jenkins, Frank."

"Keep out of mischief," called out the elder brother.

"All right," answered Gilbert, and he joined the officer on the verandah.

A tumtum was waiting to take them to the neighbouring station some miles off, from whence news had been received that a native merchant's house had been despoiled; it was believed the robbers were still lurking about in hiding. Superintendent Jenkins was in high spirits, for a runner had brought the news, so no time had been lost.

"We must nab some of them this time!" he said cheerily. "I wanted a clue to their whereabouts; now I've got it, and need only follow it up."

It was midnight when they started, and they were more than half-way to their destination, driving at a good pace through the jungle, when suddenly two naked figures leaped out from behind a group of trees, and springing at the horse's head, caused it to rear and prance, so as to endanger the safety of the occupants of the tumtum.

The superintendent stood up, pistol in hand, shouting--

"Let go, you rascals, or I'll fire!" and suiting the action to the word, he cocked his pistol and fired at the foremost figure. The shot missed, and almost instantaneously he perceived that the horse was loose--he guessed at once that the traces must have been cut; the tumtum swerved and turned on its side, depositing the superintendent on the road.

Like lightning the thought crossed Gilbert's mind--

"They want to prevent our reaching the village. If only I could checkmate them!"

With that he started at a quick run, trusting that in the still dim light he might escape observation. He had often won pretty stiff races at school, but he was out of training now, and had hardly covered half a mile when he heard the swift sound of naked feet gaining upon him. Still he would not give in. He knew, from having driven over the ground before, that he was on the road to a tea-planter's bungalow. If he could only reach that he could give the alarm; but the hope was soon squashed. He felt himself caught in a vigorous pair of arms.

"Now, young sahib, lie still; no harm happen to you. Hari Rām never hurt sahibs, only they must not stop his way or hinder his work."

"So you are Hari Rām, the great Dacoit?" said Gilbert. "I'm delighted to see you; at the same time I would rather you hadn't upset the tumtum and perhaps killed my friend. What are you going to do with me, may I ask?"

"Keep you quiet till evening; it is not good for sahibs to be out in the heat; then I'll put you on your way back to the mines. I mean you no harm. You wanted to catch the men who took some of the mahajan's[9] money, only a little, and they gave half to the poor; now I have stopped you doing so. These mahajans are bigger thieves than we are, and make the poor suffer; it is the will of Eshwar that they should be punished." Gilbert could just see that he was a tall muscular man with handsome features, the bold black eyes shining under his white turban; he was quite naked save for the dhoti, and his dark mahogany skin shone, from the frequent application of oil, like a well-polished piece of furniture. He stood Gilbert's scrutinising examination with perfect good-humour.

[9] Rich merchant.

"You'll know me when you next see me," he said.

"Yes, I should know you anywhere," answered Gilbert.

Just at that moment they heard the clatter of horses' feet.

"It's the Miss Sahiba!" said Hari Rām, and instantly bolted. Turning round, Gilbert saw a girl coming quickly over the brushwood, mounted on a splendid horse and followed by a syce.

"This is luck!" thought Gilbert. The rider saw him, and checked her horse, asking--

"Has anything happened? It's unusual for an Englishman to be alone in the jungle at this time in the morning."

Rapidly Gilbert recounted what had taken place. The girl listened attentively.

"Then you don't know what has become of your friend?" she said.

"Only that he was knocked over," said Gilbert.

"And you have been quietly entertaining Hari Rām?" she continued with a smile.

"Yes," said Gilbert; "but I am sorry to say he has escaped. He was going to take me with him, but you startled the hare, and he was off like a shot."

"Oh! he always is," answered the girl. "But now we had better see after your friend. How far do you suppose he is from here?"

"Not half a mile," answered Gilbert. "If you will ride forward I will follow."

All this has been long to tell, but had really occupied but a short time. When Gilbert and the girl reached the spot where the attack had been made, they found the driver had secured the horse, but could not proceed because of the damage the tumtum had sustained; also Superintendent Jenkins had been considerably injured. He had fallen on his head and his face was badly cut about, but he was conscious.

When Jenkins saw Gilbert returning with a companion he was greatly relieved, and called out--

"Well, youngster, you've managed at least to fall on your feet."

"By a mere fluke," said Gilbert. "What shall we do now?"

"Do!" exclaimed the superintendent. "We're within a few miles of Pokharia, and if you hurry up you'll be there in no time. Let the police know what's happened, and that the rascal is on the loose somewhere in the neighbourhood; tell them to turn out as many men as they can and beat the jungle. Off with you, there's no time to lose!"

"All right," said Gilbert, and he prepared to go.

"I'll turn back with you to my father's house," said the girl; "it lies on your way." Then bending down to Jenkins she added, "We will send a palki as quickly as possible for you; it will not be long;" and therewith she and Gilbert went off.

"It's just as well you're not alone," she said, "as Hari Rām might pounce on you again to prevent your getting on; he may be watching us now, so we'll take a cross road. I always ride the first thing in the morning," she continued, "the earlier the better; it's fortunate for you I started to-day even earlier than usual."

"It most certainly is," said Gilbert. "A minute later and I should have been far away in the jungle. I wonder where Hari Rām puts up."

"Anywhere and everywhere," answered his companion. "You're lucky to have seen him. I wish I had. He's an awfully fine fellow, you know, if he weren't a Dacoit. Other people may hear of his misdoings, but there's not a day passes but I hear of his kindnesses to his fellow-countrymen, and the natives worship the ground he treads on. We shall never catch him, and if the truth's told, I don't want him to be caught."

"Rank treason," said Gilbert laughing.

"There's our bungalow," said the girl, pointing to an unusually large thatched building, just distinguishable through the trees.

The syce had run all the way back, and told his master that some Englishmen had been attacked by the Dacoits, and that a young sahib had only just escaped being carried away by Hari Rām himself. Mr. Macgregor was on the point of starting to see what had happened when the two young people entered the compound.

"Hullo, Vansie, what's up?" he called out. "Is this the young man who was beset by the Dacoits?"

"Yes, father," said Vansie, springing lightly to the ground. "_He's_ all right, but there's a smashed-up tumtum, and the police superintendent badly hurt. You must send for him at once."

The Scotchman whistled.

"I wonder what the Government is about, to let this thing go on?"

"It's a shameful state of affairs! a perfect disgrace!" said Mr. Macgregor indignantly. "Walk in, sir," and he was leading the way into the bungalow, when his daughter interfered, saying--

"Father, you must send a palki off at once."

"Allah Baksh," called out Mr. Macgregor, "see that two palkis and bearers are got ready sharp. Tell Miss Sahiba's syce to go with you, he knows the place."

"If you will excuse me," said Gilbert, "I'll go on to Pokharia without delay. It is important that the people there should know we were coming with help, and how we have been stopped."

"Of course it is," said Mr. Macgregor, "but you cannot go alone. As soon as we've had breakfast, I'll go with you."

Though loth to delay, Gilbert could not very well refuse. It was still quite early, and it would not take more than half-an-hour to reach Pokharia. The khansamah was already laying the table on the verandah, and preparing chottâ hazari.[10] Mr. Macgregor was impatient, for he was very angry. These continual raids of the Dacoits, though they did not personally attack _him_, kept the whole country in a state of turmoil. He was a large tea-planter, a widower, and Vansie, the girl we have just introduced to our readers, was his only child. She was tall and lithe, only sixteen years of age, and yet she was a perfect woman, with a delicate olive complexion, of that peculiar whiteness consequent upon the climate. Her features were straight and delicate, the lips well cut and marvellously red; her eyes were dark, with a certain languor in them, made more so by the long curled eyelashes, and delicately-pencilled eyebrows. Gilbert thought he had never seen anything so beautiful.

[10] Little breakfast.

"Why do you go to Pokharia; the men are sure to have escaped, and we know Hari Rām is far away by this time," she said to her father.

"That's not so certain," he answered; "he's pretty daring, and is as likely as not to remain in the neighbourhood out of bravado."

Vansie pouted.

"Well, I think it's a horrid thing to be chasing a man who, after all, does us no harm."

"Do you call it doing no harm attacking the superintendent?" said her father. "Nonsense, Vansie; it's ridiculous for you to stand up for a thief and a robber!"

The girl moved away from the table, with a smile on her lips.

"Well, one thing is certain: you're not likely to catch him," she said. "I'll go and order the rooms to be got ready for the gentleman," and nodding to Gilbert as if they were old friends, she entered the house.

At that moment the horses came round.

"If you're ready we'll start at once," said Mr. Macgregor. "But you have not yet told me your name."

"Gilbert Lindsay. I'm brother to the new engineer of the Ganges mines."

"I've heard of him," said Macgregor, "I shall be glad to make his acquaintance."

"I'll tell him so," said Gilbert. "He has been much occupied since we came, but I'm sure he'll be delighted to know you."

When they mounted to ride away; Gilbert turned to look back at the bungalow, and saw Vansie standing on the steps. She waved her hands and called out mockingly--

"Good sport! good sport!"

Her father shook his fist at her, and said laughingly, "The misdeeds of this Hari Rām have fascinated her. I believe she would be quite angry if he were caught."

"He's a very handsome fellow," said Gilbert, "if he were only clothed like a Christian. He was by no means discourteous to me. I almost wish he had carried me off. I should like to have seen a little more of him."

"Well, I'd like to see him before a magistrate," said Macgregor, "hear him sentenced to a good term of imprisonment, and sent to the Andaman Islands; that's the only way we shall be rid of him and his whole gang; they would never hold together without him."

They were not long reaching Pokharia, and rode straight to the missionary's house.

"You are too late," said Mr. M'Call. "The rascals have got off again. The robbery took place early last evening just after sunset. Pooran was the man robbed. He happened to be out, and when he came back he found his house regularly looted. I sent a runner straight off to Damūdá for the police, but this delay has given the Dacoits time to betake themselves to the hills or the jungle."

"Well, I propose we telegraph straight to head-quarters," said Macgregor. "I'm quite willing myself to ride to the first telegraphic station to send the message. Something must be done without delay."

Two or three of the principal natives of the village dropped in--one man who owned several carts, and who did a large business in raw cocoons, complained bitterly of the difficulty of transport. "The natives are half-hearted," he said. "Hari Rām is so open-handed amongst the poor that they think there is more to be lost than gained if he were apprehended. We, the mahajans, are obedient servants to Government, therefore Government ought to protect us."

"Of course it ought," said Macgregor; "but it's no use sending a couple of men; we must have a score, and that soon. I think the fact of the agent being injured in this last fray will have some effect. I'm willing to take the responsibility myself and ride at once to the telegraphic station if some of you will accompany me. I hardly think it safe for me to go alone."

"We will go with you, only don't let the servants hear," said Pooran. "They make a perfect idol of Hari Rām; he has spies all over the place."

The heat was too great to think of starting before evening, so they remained at the mission station. Then Mr. Macgregor, accompanied by two native merchants and their servants, set out. Gilbert with the missionary, who was also somewhat of a doctor, went to Macgregor's place to see after the wounded man. As they approached the house they saw an Indian woman crossing the compound, carrying a child on her hip. The missionary turned and looked at her.

"I know that woman," he said; "she was at Pokharia last week."

They found Jenkins the superintendent in a great measure recovered from his accident.

"I shall be all right to-morrow, and able to return to Damūdá," he said.

"Who was that handsome Indian woman we met as we came into the compound?" asked Gilbert of Vansie as they sat together on the verandah.

"She's Rajhani, my foster-sister; her mother was my dhai. She married and left the district, and I had not seen her for the last three or four years, when suddenly one day not long ago she appeared bringing me her baby, who was ill. I gave it some simple remedy, at least my ayah did, but to-day she came for her husband, who, she said, was down with fever. I asked her where she came from, and who her husband was, but she gave me no answer, and went off with barely a thank you."

"She is splendidly handsome," said Gilbert, "but has an evil face for all that."

"I think not," replied Vansie. "She rather looks as if she had some trouble. She seems to have heard of last night's attack, for she asked me how the sahibs were. I told her they were not much injured, but that I was afraid the Government would take active measures for finding Hari Rām.

"'They'll not get him, they'll never get him!' she said passionately, and I thought I saw tears in her eyes.

"'Do you know him, Rajhani?' I asked.

"'I've seen him,' she answered sullenly. Her manner was so strange that it struck me as just possible her husband might belong to the gang.

"'Well,' I said, 'perhaps you might warn him that he is going a little too far, and that he'll be caught some day unless he mends his ways.

"'He'll never do that as long as he is free,' she exclaimed, and went off."...

"You'll come out soon and see us again," Vansie said to Gilbert the following morning before he left, "and bring your brother with you. Father will give you both some good shooting in the jungle."

"Certainly I will," said Gilbert, with a sense of pleasure at having found a place which was so homelike.

A week later, Superintendent Jenkins came into Frank's bungalow in a very irate state of mind.

"There," he said, throwing down a letter, "that's all the reward a man gets for doing his duty. The Commissioner declares we must be shilly-shallying with the natives, and he will himself come down and see whether he can't catch this Hari Rām."

"Let him; he'll soon find out his mistake," said Frank. "I was up with Gilbert at Macgregor's the day before yesterday, and he says it will be tremendous work to nab him. He's protected by all the natives, and can pass from one village to the other without fear of being betrayed."

"Well, that remains to be proved," said Jenkins. "At all events the Commissioner is coming in full force with a whole army of police."

"Ah! well, you must put the best face on it you can," said Frank. "If Hari Rām is caught it will be a good thing for the country. My opinion is that he's hovering somewhere about here. Let who will catch him, I'm glad it's not my business. I much prefer the prospect of a shooting party with Macgregor next week. He is really a nice fellow. Came over and asked Gilbert and me to go there. Of course we have accepted."

"I can understand it is preferable. Hunting Dacoits is not in your line of business," said Jenkins, and with that they parted.