Rujub, the Juggler

by G. A. Henty

  CHAPTER II.

  A young man in a suit of brown karkee, with a white puggaree woundround his pith helmet, was just mounting in front of his bungalow atDeennugghur, some forty miles from Cawnpore, when two others came up.

  "Which way are you going to ride, Bathurst?"

  "I am going out to Narkeet; there is a dispute between the villagers anda Talookdar as to their limits. I have got to look into the case. Why doyou ask, Mr. Hunter?"

  "I thought that you might be going that way. You know we have hadseveral reports of ravages by a man eater whose headquarters seem tobe that big jungle you pass through on your way to Narkeet. He has beenpaying visits to several villages in its neighborhood, and has carriedoff two mail runners. I should advise you to keep a sharp lookout."

  "Yes, I have heard plenty about him; it is unfortunate we have no one atthis station who goes in for tiger hunting. Young Bloxam was speakingto me last night; he is very hot about it; but as he knows nothing aboutshooting, and has never fired off a rifle in his life, except at themilitary target, I told him that it was madness to think of it byhimself, and that he had better ride down to the regiment at Cawnpore,and get them to form a party to come up to hunt the beast. I told himthey need not bring elephants with them; I could get as many as werenecessary from some of the Talookdars, and there will be no want ofbeaters. He said he would write at once, but he doubted whether any ofthem would be able to get away at present; the general inspection isjust coming on. However, no doubt they will be able to do so beforelong."

  "Well, if I were you I would put a pair of pistols into my holster,Bathurst; it would be awfully awkward if you came across the beast."

  "I never carry firearms," the young man said shortly; and then morelightly, "I am a peaceful man by profession, as you are, Mr. Hunter,and I leave firearms to those whose profession it is to use them. Ihave hitherto never met with an occasion when I needed them, and am notlikely to do so. I always carry this heavy hunting whip, which I finduseful sometimes, when the village dogs rush out and pretend that theyare going to attack me; and I fancy that even an Oude swordsman wouldthink twice before attacking me when I had it in my hand. But, ofcourse, there is no fear about the tiger. I generally ride pretty fast;and even if he were lying by the roadside waiting for a meal, I don'tthink he would be likely to interfere with me."

  So saying, he lightly touched the horse's flanks with his spurs andcantered off.

  "He's a fine young fellow, Garnet," Mr. Hunter said to his companion;"full of energy, and, they say, the very best linguist in Oude."

  "Yes, he is all that," the other agreed; "but he is a sort of fellowone does not quite understand. I like a man who is like other fellows;Bathurst isn't. He doesn't shoot, he doesn't ride--I mean he don't carefor pig sticking; he never goes in for any fun there may be on hand; hejust works--nothing else; he does not seem to mix with other people;he is the sort of fellow one would say had got some sort of secretconnected with him."

  "If he has, I am certain it is nothing to his personal disadvantage,"Mr. Hunter said warmly. "I have known him for the last six years--Iwon't say very well, for I don't think anyone does that, except,perhaps, Doctor Wade. When there was a wing of the regiment up herethree years ago he and Bathurst took to each other very much--perhapsbecause they were both different from other people. But, anyhow, fromwhat I know of Bathurst I believe him to be a very fine character,though there is certainly an amount of reserve about him altogetherunusual. At any rate, the service is a gainer by it. I never knew afellow work so indefatigably. He will take a very high place in theservice before he has done."

  "I am not so sure of that," the other said. "He is a man with opinionsof his own, and all sorts of crotchets and fads. He has been in hotwater with the Chief Commissioner more than once. When I was over atLucknow last I was chatting with two or three men, and his name happenedto crop up, and one of them said, 'Bathurst is a sort of knight errant,an official Don Quixote. Perhaps the best officer in the province insome respects, but hopelessly impracticable.'"

  "Yes, that I can quite understand, Garnet. That sort of man is neverpopular with the higher official, whose likings go to the man who doesneither too much nor too little, who does his work without questioning,and never thinks of making suggestions, and is a mere official machine.Men of Bathurst's type, who go to the bottom of things, protest againstwhat they consider unfair decisions, and send in memorandums showingthat their superiors are hopelessly ignorant and idiotically wrong, arealways cordially disliked. Still, they generally work their way to thefront in the long run. Well, I must be off."

  Bathurst rode to Narkeet without drawing rein. His horse at timesslackened its pace on its own accord, but an almost mechanical motionfrom its rider's heel soon started it off again at the rapid pace atwhich its rider ordinarily traveled. From the time he left Deennugghurto his arrival at Narkeet no thought of the dreaded man eater enteredBathurst's mind. He was deeply meditating on a memorandum he was aboutto draw up, respecting a decision that had been arrived at in a casebetween a Talookdar in his district and the Government, and in which, asit appeared to him, a wholly erroneous and unjust view had been takenas to the merits of the case; and he only roused himself when the horsebroke into a walk as it entered the village. Two or three of the headmen, with many bows and salutations of respect, came out to receive him.

  "My lord sahib has seen nothing of the tiger?" the head man said; "ourhearts were melted with fear, for the evil beast was heard roaring inthe jungle not far from the road early this morning."

  "I never gave it a thought, one way or the other," Bathurst said, as hedismounted. "I fancy the horse would have let me know if the brute hadbeen anywhere near. See that he is tied up in the shed, and has food andwater, and put a boy to keep the flies from worrying him. And now let usget to business. First of all, I must go through the village recordsand documents; after that I will question four or five of the oldestinhabitants, and then we must go over the ground. The whole questionturns, you know, upon whether the irrigation ditch mentioned in theTalookdar's grant is the one that runs across at the foot of the risingground on his side, or whether it is the one that sweeps round on thisside of the grove with the little temple in it. Unfortunately most ofthe best land lies between those ditches."

  For hours Bathurst listened to the statements of the old people of thevillage, cross questioning them closely, and sparing no efforts to siftthe truth from their confused and often contradictory evidence. Then hespent two hours going over the ground and endeavoring to satisfy himselfwhich of the two ditches was the one named in the village records. Hehad two days before taken equal pains in sifting the evidence on theother side.

  "I trust that my lord sees there can be no doubt as to the justice ofour claim," the head man said humbly, as he prepared to mount again.

  "According to your point of view, there is no doubt about it, Childee;but then there is equally no doubt the other way, according to thestatements they put forward. But that is generally the way in all theseland disputes. For good hard swearing your Hindoo cultivator can bematched against the world. Unfortunately there is nothing either in yourgrant or in your neighbors' that specifies unmistakably which of theseancient ditches is the one referred to. My present impression is that itis essentially a case for a compromise, but you know the final decisiondoes not rest on me. I shall be out here again next week, and I shallwrite to the Talookdar to meet me here, and we will go over the groundtogether again, and see if we cannot arrange some line that will be fairto both parties. If we can do that, the matter would be settled withoutexpense and trouble; whereas, if it goes up to Lucknow it may all haveto be gone into again; and if the decision is given against you, and asfar as I can see it is just as likely to be one way as another, it willbe a serious thing for the village."

  "We are in my lord's hands," the native said; "he is the protector ofthe poor, and will do us justice."

  "I will do you justice, Childee, but I must do justice to the other sidetoo. Of course, nei
ther of you will be satisfied, but that cannot behelped."

  His perfect knowledge of their language, the pains he took to sift allmatters brought before him to the bottom, had rendered the young officervery popular among the natives. They knew they could get justice fromhim direct. There was no necessity to bribe underlings: he had theknack of extracting the truth from the mass of lying evidence alwaysforthcoming in native cases; and even the defeated party admired themanner in which the fabric of falsehood was pulled to pieces. But themain reason of his popularity was his sympathy, the real interest whichhe showed in their cases, and the patience with which he listened totheir stories.

  Bathurst himself, as he rode homewards, was still thinking of thecase. Of course there had been lying on both sides; but to that he wasaccustomed. It was a question of importance--of greater importance, nodoubt, to the villagers than to their opponent, but still importantto him--for this tract of land was a valuable one, and of considerableextent, and there was really nothing in the documents produced on eitherside to show which ditch was intended by the original grants. Evidently,at the time they were made, very many years before, one ditch or theother was not in existence; but there was no proof as to which was themore recent, although both sides professed that all traditions handeddown to them asserted the ditch on their side to be the more recent.

  He was riding along the road through the great jungle, at his horse'sown pace, which happened for the moment to be a gentle trot, whena piercing cry rang through the air a hundred yards ahead. Bathurststarted from his reverie, and spurred his horse sharply; the animaldashed forward at a gallop. At a turn in the road he saw, twenty yardsahead of him, a tiger, standing with a foot upon a prostrate figure,while a man in front of it was gesticulating wildly. The tiger stood asif hesitating whether to strike down the figure in front or to contentitself with that already in its power.

  The wild shouts of the man had apparently drowned the sound of thehorse's feet upon the soft road, for the animal drew back half a pace asit suddenly came into view.

  The horse swerved at the sight, and reared high in the air as Bathurstdrove his spurs into it. As its feet touched the ground again, Bathurstsprang off and rushed at the tiger, and brought down the heavy lashof his whip with all his force across its head. With a fierce snarl itsprang back two paces, but again and again the whip descended upon it,and bewildered and amazed at the attack it turned swiftly and sprangthrough the bushes.

  Bathurst, knowing that there was no fear of its returning, turned atonce to the figure on the road. It was, as in even the momentary glancehe had noticed, a woman, or rather a girl of some fourteen or fifteenyears of age--the man had dropped on his knees beside her, moaning andmuttering incoherent words.

  "I see no blood," Bathurst said, and stooping, lifted the light figure."Her heart beats, man; I think she has only fainted. The tiger must haveknocked her down in its spring without striking her. So far as I can seeshe is unhurt."

  He carried her to the horse, which stood trembling a few yards away,took a flask from the holster, and poured a little brandy and waterbetween her lips.

  Presently there was a faint sigh. "She is coming round," he said to theman, who was still kneeling, looking on with vacant eyes, as though hehad neither heard nor comprehended what Bathurst was doing. Presentlythe girl moved slightly and opened her eyes. At first there was noexpression in them; then a vague wonder stole into them at the whiteface looking down upon her.

  She closed them again, and then reopened them, and then there was aslight struggle to free herself. He allowed her to slip through his armsuntil her feet touched the ground; then her eyes fell on the kneelingfigure.

  "Father!" she exclaimed. With a cry the man leaped to his feet, sprangto her and seized her in his arms, and poured out words of endearment.Then suddenly he released her and threw himself on the ground beforeBathurst, with ejaculations of gratitude and thankfulness.

  "Get up, man, get up," the latter said; "your daughter can scarce standalone, and the sooner we get away from this place the better; thatsavage beast is not likely to return, but he may do so; let us be off."

  He mounted his horse again, brought it up to the side of the girl, andthen, leaning over, took her and swung her into the saddle in front ofhim. The man took up a large box that was lying in the road and hoistedit onto his shoulders, and then, at a foot's pace, they proceeded ontheir way--Bathurst keeping a close watch on the jungle at the side onwhich the tiger had entered it.

  "How came you to travel along this road alone?" he asked the man. "Thenatives only venture through in large parties, because of this tiger."

  "I am a stranger," the man answered; "I heard at the village where weslept last night that there was a tiger in this jungle, but I thoughtwe should be through it before nightfall, and therefore there was nodanger. If one heeded all they say about tigers one would never travelat all. I am a juggler, and we are on our way down the country throughCawnpore and Allahabad. Had it not been for the valor of my lord sahib,we should never have got there; for had I lost my Rabda, the light ofmy heart, I should have gone no further, but should have waited for thetiger to take me also."

  "There was no particular valor about it," Bathurst said shortly. "I sawthe beast with its foot on your daughter, and dismounted to beat it offjust as if it had been a dog, without thinking whether there was anydanger in it or not. Men do it with savage beasts in menageries everyday. They are cowardly brutes after all, and can't stand the lash. Hewas taken altogether by surprise, too."

  "My lord has saved my daughter's life, and mine is at his servicehenceforth," the man said. "The mouse is a small beast, but he maywarn the lion. The white sahibs are brave and strong. Would one of mycountrymen have ventured his life to attack a tiger, armed only with awhip, for the sake of the life of a poor wayfarer?"

  "Yes, I think there are many who would have done so," Bathurst replied."You do your countrymen injustice. There are plenty of brave men amongthem, and I have heard before now of villagers, armed only with sticks,attacking a tiger who has carried off a victim from among them. Youyourself were standing boldly before it when I came up."

  "My child was under its feet--besides, I never thought of myself. IfI had had a weapon I should not have drawn it. I had no thought of thetiger; I only thought that my child was dead. She works with me, sahib;since her mother died, five years ago, we have traveled together overthe country; she plays while I conjure. She takes round the saucer forthe money, and she acts with me in the tricks that require two persons;it is she who disappears from the basket. We are everything to eachother, sahib. But what is my lord's name? Will he tell his servant, thathe and Rabda may think of him and talk of him as they tramp the roadstogether?"

  "My name is Ralph Bathurst. I am District Officer at Deennugghur. Howfar are you going this evening?"

  "We shall sleep at the first village we come to, sahib; we have walkedmany hours today, and this box, though its contents are not weighty,is heavy to bear. We thought of going down tomorrow to Deennugghur, andshowing our performances to the sahib logue there."

  "Very well; but there is one thing--what is your name?"

  "Rujub."

  "Well, Rujub, if you go on to Deennugghur tomorrow say nothing to anyonethere about this affair with the tiger; it is nothing to talk about. Iam not a shikari, but a hard working official, and I don't want to betalked about."

  "The sahib's wish shall be obeyed," the man said.

  "You can come round to my bungalow and ask for me; I shall be glad tohear whether your daughter is any the worse for her scare. How do youfeel, Rabda?"

  "I feel as one in a dream, sahib. I saw a great yellow beast springingthrough the air, and I cried out, and knew nothing more till I saw thesahib's face; and now I have heard him and my father talking, but theirvoices sound to me as if far away, though I know that you are holdingme."

  "You will be all the better after a night's rest, child; no wonder youfeel strange and shaken. Another quarter of an hour and we shall be atth
e village. I suppose, Rujub, you were born a conjurer."

  "Yes, sahib, it is always so; it goes down from father to son. As soonas I was able to walk, I began to work with my father, and as I grewup he initiated me in the secrets of our craft, which we may neverdivulge."

  "No, I know they are a mystery. Many of your tricks can be done by ourconjurers at home, but there are some that have never been solved."

  "I have been offered, more than once, large sums by English sahibs totell them how some of the feats were done, but I could not; we are boundby terrible oaths, and; in no case has a juggler proved false to them.Were one to do so he would be slain without mercy, and his fate in thenext world would be terrible; forever and forever his soul would passthrough the bodies of the foulest and lowest creatures, and there wouldbe no forgiveness for him. I would give my life for the sahib, but evento him I would not divulge our mysteries."

  In a few minutes they came to the first village beyond the jungle. Asthey approached it Bathurst checked his horse and lifted the girl down.She took his hand and pressed her forehead to it.

  "I shall see you tomorrow, then, Rujub," he said, and shaking the reins,went on at a canter.

  "That is a new character for me to come out in," he said bitterly; "I donot know myself--I, of all men. But there was no bravery in it; it neveroccurred to me to be afraid; I just thrashed him off as I should beatoff a dog who was killing a lamb; there was no noise, and it is noisethat frightens me; if the brute had roared I should assuredly have run;I know it would have been so; I could not have helped it to have savedmy life. It is an awful curse that I am not as other men, and that Itremble and shake like a girl at the sound of firearms. It would havebeen better if I had been killed by the first shot fired in the Punjaubeight years ago, or if I had blown my brains out at the end of the day.Good Heavens! what have I suffered since. But I will not think of it.Thank God, I have got my work; and as long as I keep my thoughts on thatthere is no room for that other;" and then, by a great effort of will,Ralph Bathurst put the past behind him, and concentrated his thoughts onthe work on which he had been that day engaged.

  The juggler did not arrive on the following evening as he had expected,but late in the afternoon a native boy brought in a message from him,saying that his daughter was too shaken and ill to travel, but that theywould come when she recovered.

  A week later, on returning from a long day's work, Bathurst was toldthat a juggler was in the veranda waiting to see him.

  "I told him, sahib," the servant said, "that you cared not for suchentertainments, and that he had better go elsewhere; but he insistedthat you yourself had told him to come, and so I let him wait."

  "Has he a girl with him, Jafur?"

  "Yes, sahib."

  Bathurst strolled round to the other side of the bungalow, where Rujubwas sitting patiently, with Rabda wrapped in her blue cloth beside him.They rose to their feet.

  "I am glad to see your daughter is better again, Rujub."

  "She is better, sahib; she has had fever, but is restored."

  "I cannot see your juggling tonight, Rujub. I have had a heavy day'swork, and am worn out, and have still much to do. You had better goround to some of the other bungalows; though I don't think you will domuch this evening, for there is a dinner party at the Collector's, andalmost everyone will be there. My servants will give you food, and Ishall be off at seven o'clock in the morning, but shall be glad to seeyou before I start. Are you in want of money?" and he put his hand inhis pocket.

  "No, sahib," the juggler said. "We have money sufficient for all ourwants; we are not thinking of performing tonight, for Rabda is notequal to it. Before sunrise we shall be on our way again; I must be atCawnpore, and we have delayed too long already. Could you give us buthalf an hour tonight, sahib; we will come at any hour you like. I wouldshow you things that few Englishmen have seen. Not mere common tricks,sahib, but mysteries such as are known to few even of us. Do not say no,sahib."

  "Well, if you wish it, Rujub, I will give you half an hour," andBathurst looked at his watch. "It is seven now, and I have to dine. Ihave work to do that will take me three hours at least, but at eleven Ishall have finished. You will see a light in my room; come straight tothe open window."

  "We will be there, sahib;" and with a salaam the juggler walked off,followed by his daughter.

  A few minutes before the appointed time Bathurst threw down his pen witha little sigh of satisfaction.

  The memo he had just finished was a most conclusive one; it seemedto him unanswerable, and that the Department would have trouble indisputing his facts and figures. He had not since he sat down to hiswork given another thought to the juggler, and he almost started as afigure appeared in the veranda at the open window.

  "Ah, Rujub, is it you? I have just finished my work. Come in; is Rabdawith you?"

  "She will remain outside until I want her," the juggler said as heentered and squatted himself on the floor. "I am not going to juggle,sahib. With us there are two sorts of feats; there are those that areperformed by sleight of hand or by means of assistance. These are thejuggler's tricks we show in the verandas and compounds of the whitesahibs, and in the streets of the cities. There are others that areknown only to the higher order among us, that we show only on rareoccasions. They have come to us from the oldest times, and it is saidthey were brought by wise men from Egypt; but that I know not."

  "I have always been interested in juggling, and have seen many thingsthat I cannot understand," Bathurst said. "I have seen the basket trickdone on the road in front of the veranda, as well as in other places,and I cannot in any way account for it."

  The juggler took from his basket a piece of wood about two feet inlength and some four inches in diameter.

  "You see this?" he said.

  Bathurst took it in his hand. "It looks like a bit sawn off a telegraphpole," he said.

  "Will you come outside, sahib?"

  The night was very dark, but the lamp on the table threw its lightthrough the window onto the drive in front of the veranda. Rujub tookwith him a piece of wood about nine inches square, with a soft pad onthe top. He went out in the drive and placed the piece of pole upright,and laid the wood with the cushion on the top.

  "Now will you stand in the veranda a while?"

  Bathurst stood back by the side of the window so as not to interferewith the passage of the light. Rabda stole forward and sat down upon thecushion.

  "Now watch, sahib."

  Bathurst looked, and saw the block of wood apparently growing. Graduallyit rose until Rabda passed up beyond the light in the room.

  "You may come out," the juggler said, "but do not touch the pole. If youdo, it will cause a fall, which would be fatal to my child."

  Bathurst stepped out and looked up. He could but just make out thefigure of Rabda, seemingly already higher than the top of the bungalow.Gradually it became more and more indistinct.

  "You are there, Rabda?" her father said.

  "I am here, father!" and the voice seemed to come from a considerabledistance.

  Again and again the question was asked, and the answer became fainterand fainter, although it sounded as if it was a distant cry in responseto Rujub's shout rather than spoken in an ordinary voice.

  At last no response was heard.

  "Now it shall descend," the juggler said.

  Two or three minutes passed, and then Bathurst, who was staring up intothe darkness, could make out the end of the pole with the seat uponit, but Rabda was no longer there. Rapidly it sank, until it stood itsoriginal height on the ground.

  "Where is Rabda?" Bathurst exclaimed.

  "She is here, my lord," and as he spoke Rabda rose from a sittingposition on the balcony close to Bathurst.

  "It is marvelous!" the latter exclaimed. "I have heard of that featbefore, but have never seen it. May I take up that piece of wood?"

  "Assuredly, sahib."

  Bathurst took it up and carried it to the light. It was undoubtedly,as he had before supposed
, a piece of solid wood. The juggler had nottouched it, or he would have supposed he might have substituted for thepiece he first examined a sort of telescope of thin sheets of steel, buteven that would not have accounted for Rabda's disappearance.

  "I will show you one other feat, my lord."

  He took a brass dish, placed a few pieces of wood and charcoal in it,struck a match, and set the wood on fire, and then fanned it until thewood had burned out, and the charcoal was in a glow; then he sprinkledsome powder upon it, and a dense white smoke rose.

  "Now turn out the lamp, sahib."

  Bathurst did so. The glow of the charcoal enabled him still to see thelight smoke; this seemed to him to become clearer and clearer.

  "Now for the past!" Rujub said. The smoke grew brighter and brighter,and mixed with flashes of color; presently Bathurst saw clearly anIndian scene. A village stood on a crest, jets of smoke darted upfrom between the houses, and then a line of troops in scarlet uniformadvanced against the village, firing as they went. They paused for amoment, and then with a rush went at the village and disappeared in thesmoke over the crest.

  "Good Heavens," Bathurst muttered, "it is the battle of Chillianwalla!"

  "The future!" Rujub said, and the colors on the smoke changed. Bathurstsaw a wall surrounding a courtyard. On one side was a house. It hadevidently been besieged, for in the upper part were many ragged holes,and two of the windows were knocked into one. On the roof were menfiring, and there were one or two women among them. He could see theirfaces and features distinctly. In the courtyard wall there was a gap,and through this a crowd of Sepoys were making their way, while ahandful of whites were defending a breastwork. Among them he recognizedhis own figure. He saw himself club his rifle and leap down into themiddle of the Sepoys, fighting furiously there. The colors faded away,and the room was in darkness again. There was the crack of a match, andthen Rujub said quietly, "If you will lift off the globe again, I willlight the lamp, sahib."

  Bathurst almost mechanically did as he was told.

  "Well, sahib, what do you think of the pictures?"

  "The first was true," Bathurst said quietly, "though, how you knew I waswith the regiment that stormed the village at Chillianwalla I know not.The second is certainly not true."

  "You can never know what the future will be, sahib," the juggler saidgravely.

  "That is so," Bathurst said; "but I know enough of myself to say thatit cannot be true. I do not say that the Sepoys can never be fightingagainst whites, improbable as it seems, but that I was doing what thatfigure did is, I know, impossible."

  "Time will show, sahib," the juggler said; "the pictures never lie.Shall I show you other things?"

  "No, Rujub, you have shown me enough; you have astounded me. I want tosee no more tonight."

  "Then farewell, sahib; we shall meet again, I doubt not, and mayhap Imay be able to repay the debt I owe you;" and Rujub, lifting his basket,went out through the window without another word.