Ram lay flat on the top of the rocks, suddenly feeling very alone. What had happened to Nisha? Had the dacoits recaptured her? What were they doing to her?
A sudden noise behind him raised the hair on the back of his neck. Were they coming for him, too? Feeling sick in his stomach, he slowly turned round. It was Nisha.
‘Nisha!’ he said, smiling with relief, ‘where were you?’
By way of reply, his sister held up a cell phone.
‘I’ve been to the lorry,’ she said. ‘While you were fetching breakfast, I noticed that the lorry had been left unattended. The dacoits have also gone to eat. So I decided that it would be a good chance to get the cell phone. No one saw me and it only took a few seconds. But I did have time to notice one thing.’
‘What was that?’ asked Ram, busily tucking into an idli.
‘The statue we saw; it is being sent abroad.’
‘Wow. Where to?’
‘The Free University of Central Quebec!’
‘Wait,’ Ram tried to remember. ‘Isn’t that the university that Rigolet said he was from and which Nose Uncle said didn’t exist?’
‘That’s right. So now perhaps Rigolet is still a suspect.’
‘We must find Nose Uncle and tell him,’ Ram wiped his lips with his fingers.
‘That’s exactly what I’m going to do,’ said Nisha, switching on the cell phone. ‘But first give me one of those idlis before you finish them all.’
Still chewing, she dialled Nose Uncle’s number and waited.
‘Perhaps he hasn’t switched it on,’ said Ram.
‘Perhaps … oh, hello, Nose Uncle? It’s Nisha. Yes, we’re fine. No, we escaped. I think you need to get here as quickly as you can. There are signs that the dacoits may be on the move again. What? Oh, we’re on an abandoned farm at … oh, dear!’ She shook the cell phone.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Ram.
‘The cell phone. Its battery has just died. It needs recharging. So now we cannot contact Nose Uncle.’
‘Did he tell you anything?’
‘Not much except to say that we shouldn’t worry as help is on its way.’
‘But they don’t know where we are,’ said Ram, crestfallen.
‘I know.’ Nisha looked around the farmyard behind them and at the casuarina trees in front of the rocks. ‘But we could help them find out.’
Ram was once more optimistic.
‘What do you have in mind?’
‘Do you think you could collect some of that dead wood under the trees?’
The tapping started again as she spoke. The workers had returned to their carving.
Ram looked at the trees and then back towards Nisha and nodded.
‘If I creep round the edge of the trees, I could stay out of sight of those men and still collect some wood. But what do you want it for?’
Nisha smiled.
‘What would you do if you were a pirate marooned on a desert island and suddenly saw a ship appear on the horizon?’
Ram chuckled.
‘I’d light a signal fire!’ he cried. ‘Right, I’ll go and collect the wood and then start a fire. What will you do?’
‘I’ll keep an eye on the dacoits. We can’t let them get away now that the police are on their way to rescue us.’
‘Right.’
Nisha climbed down the rocks and made her way round the edge of the farmyard to get closer to the stone house. In the daylight she could see that most of the buildings were disused and that a path leading in the direction of the sea was becoming overgrown. Whatever the dacoits were doing, it was nothing to do with farming.
There was the sudden sound of voices, and she lay down flat in the grass. The door of the stone house opened once more and several dacoits emerged.
I wonder what has happened to the leader and her deputy, she thought. Have they left already or are they inside? The dacoits began to move other stone objects out of the house towards the lorry. There were stone heads, lamps and small idols. What were the dacoits planning to do with them?
Even as she was thinking, a small red car with smoked windows suddenly appeared from around the back of the stone house. It was the same car that had been looking for them when they were on the bullock cart. It drove through the gates and disappeared down the track, leading to the main road.
I bet that’s the leader, she thought, feeling deeply disappointed. She’s getting away. We’ll never catch her now. But at least I got their number plate. In any case, the other dacoits are still here and they’ve got a lot of stuff to load up so we may be lucky and catch them, provided Ram manages to find some wood and start his fire and Nose Uncle spots it.
As Ram crept round the edge of the trees, he noticed that he wasn’t the only one with fire in mind. A thin trickle of smoke was rising into the morning air from where the stone workers had lit a small fire to keep them warm.
Continuing to make sure he kept out of sight and at the same time not make any noise that might arouse the attention of the workers, Ram picked up small twigs, one by one, until he had a sizeable bundle. He then took these back to his position by the rocks and then once more set out. This time he was hunting for larger branches that would make sure the fire continued to burn for some time. These, too, he carried back to the rocks. Now he had ample wood, enough for a largish fire. There remained only two problems.
One, how to light the fire. Two, how to make sure it would be different from normal village fires so that it would attract the special attention of Nose Uncle and the police.
He had no matches or lighter, but he did have a lens. Two lenses, as a matter of fact. Ram grinned as he took off his glasses. He piled up a small heap of dead and dry casuarina leaves at the base of the rocks, out of sight of the house and the stone workers and, using one lens of his spectacles, focussed the sun’s rays on the tinder. Soon, a thin blue wisp of smoke rose into the air. Ram blew on this gently until flames appeared. He piled small twigs on top of this until the flames grew bigger, and once the small fire was firmly alight, he added larger branches. Now he had a proper fire.
The second problem was to make Nose Uncle spot this fire from all the others that had been lit in the countryside that morning.
Ram looked around the yard and suddenly he noticed a pair of broken flip-flops, made from old car tyres, lying discarded in the yard.
Perfect, he thought, they’re just the thing.
He dashed across the yard, grabbed the flip-flops, and returned to his fire. He placed both of them on top of the flames. In no time at all, the ordinary white smoke of the fire had turned to nasty poisonous-looking black.
There, he thought, that should attract Nose Uncle.
Unknown to him, it also attracted the attention of someone else.
Nisha continued to lie in the grass, ignoring the itching and insects, keeping a sharp eye on the dacoits. They were making better progress with loading the lorry than she had estimated. As a result, she was now becoming more and more worried that they might finish and drive off before help arrived. Should she do something to delay them? But what? The lorry was no longer a target; there were too many dacoits about, so sabotage was out of the question. All she could think of was somehow distracting them. Perhaps she could stand up and wave her hands and make them leave the lorry and chase her.
All her plans, however, were cut short when a hand snaked around from behind her and clamped itself over her mouth.
Chapter 19
‘There it is,’ cried the night watchman, pointing off to the left. ‘That leads to the deserted village.’
The police driver, without looking in his rear view mirror or slowing down, pulled hard at the steering wheel and turned off the tarred road. They were now on a small beaten earth track, partly overgrown, and studded with pot holes.
They passed several abandoned palm-leaf huts, their roofs and sides showing great gaping holes where time and the damage caused by the tsunami had made themselves felt. Further down the track the path widened out and led the jeep t
o a small brick bridge over a small stream leading down to the sea. And just a hundred yards further on, they could see a cluster of derelict farm buildings.
‘That looks a likely place,’ said the Inspector. ‘We’ll stop here and walk the rest of the way. Now, if the dacoits are there, we must not rush in. It is possible they will outnumber us and in that case we’ll need to wait for the reinforcements. Night watchman, you stay here by the jeep. Constable, you come with us. Now, quietly does it.’
Nisha struggled with the hand that was around her mouth. She kicked out with her feet but found only empty air. Then a voice hissed in her ear.
‘Keep still, miss, it’s only me, Preeti.’
The hand relaxed and Nisha was able to turn her head. Sure enough, there was the grinning face of Preeti, who now let her go completely. Behind Preeti were several other hijras and, with them, waving to her, was Ram who now tiptoed up to join his sister.
‘They’ve come to rescue us,’ he whispered. ‘But we have to stay silent until the police arrive and give us the signal. Okay?’
Nisha nodded and they all moved back a few paces to ensure they were out of sight.
‘What if they are armed?’ she asked.
‘It depends,’ said Preeti, tossing back her long hair. ‘If they have guns, there is little we can do. But otherwise, well, we have made preparations according to the instructions given by your most illustrious and wise Nose Uncle. Let us hope he and the police will be here soon.’
The Inspector led the way, with her police driver a couple of paces behind. Nose Uncle, looking rather thoughtful, brought up the rear. His right hand was in his pocket, as if he were holding something.
Cautiously, they walked down the track leading to the abandoned farm, preparing to throw themselves into the bushes should anything or anyone approach them. Nose Uncle kept his eyes on the birds perched on the telephone wires that still drooped from pole to pole, although the connections had been broken ever since the tsunami. He was not idly birdwatching. While the birds remained where they were, it meant that no one was disturbing them. It was equally important that they themselves did nothing to frighten them and so raise the alarm. Step by silent step, they crept closer to the farmhouse.
Now there was only one more corner in the path between them and a full view of the dacoits. The Inspector signalled to the others to wait while she went forward to investigate what lay ahead. Nose Uncle continued to finger the object in his pocket.
The Inspector returned almost immediately.
‘I can see a lorry,’ she said in a low voice, ‘and several men dressed in black. It’s pretty certain it’s them. However, there are all the signs that they are leaving soon. I think it’s time to tell the backup exactly where we are,’ and she took out her cell phone. She didn’t notice that Nose Uncle was doing exactly the same.
Things were moving faster than any of them had anticipated. Nisha, Ram and Preeti and her fellows, keeping watch over the activities of the dacoits, saw that the last of the stone objects had been carried out of the house and loaded on to the lorry. At any moment it looked as if the dacoits were going to get into the lorry and drive off to nobody knew where.
Then, before the lorry could be started up, Nose Uncle, the Inspector and the police driver appeared. They, too, had noticed that the departure of the dacoits was going to happen any second.
The Inspector stepped forward and confronted the dacoits, raising her hand as if stopping the traffic.
‘Stop what you are doing,’ she said in a strong commanding voice. ‘You are all under arrest.’
The dacoits looked at each other and then at the three people in front of them. They themselves were at least a dozen in number and clearly outnumbered the forces of law and order. One dacoit nodded at the others and they produced a variety of weapons from their belts and from the lorry. Some had iron bars and others bamboo lathis. One or two picked up large stones from the ground. A battle was about to begin and the odds were heavily in favour of the dacoits. They began to advance on the Inspector, her driver and Nose Uncle.
‘We must help them,’ squeaked Nisha.
‘I can’t see any guns.’
‘But we have no weapons ourselves,’ said Nisha. ‘Preeti, what are we going to do?’
‘I am waiting for the signal,’ said Preeti.
‘Signal? What signal?’
She soon found out, for at that moment Nose Uncle pulled from his pocket a shiny silver police whistle, put it to his lips and blew hard.
Birds flew off in alarm at the sound and the dacoits stopped in their tracks. They looked around fearfully, expecting to see more police appearing from the bushes. What they did see instead was Preeti standing up, accompanied by twenty or so hijras and two children.
The dacoits laughed amongst themselves and once more began to advance, weapons raised.
‘This doesn’t look good,’ said the Inspector to Nose Uncle. Even the stolid police driver looked uneasy. ‘I’d rather hoped that our back-up would have been here by now.’
Nose Uncle looked remarkably calm.
‘Don’t forget Preeti and her friends,’ he said. ‘I think you’ll find they are more than a match for the dacoits.’
‘But they are untrained and you may have noticed they are unarmed.’
‘These people have had to fight almost every day of their lives against prejudice and injustice,’ said Nose Uncle. ‘They have learned to defend themselves.’
‘Bare-handed?’
The dacoits were now much closer, and one of them lobbed the first stone at Nose Uncle who, despite his years, easily skipped aside.
‘That fellow hasn’t played much cricket,’ he remarked. ‘That was a terrible throw. He’ll never make the national team.’
‘You may joke,’ replied the Inspector as another stone missed them by only a hair’s breadth, ‘but we are in a serious position. We are outnumbered and practically weaponless.’
‘We are not entirely without weapons,’ said Nose Uncle, pushing his half-moon spectacles up his nose as if ready for battle.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, if Preeti has done what I asked her to do, we are in with a fighting chance.’
‘What did you ask her to do?’ said the Inspector, dodging yet another stone. ‘I hope you haven’t provided them with guns or knives. That would be against the law and would make them as much criminals as the dacoits.’
Nose Uncle smiled.
‘I wouldn’t dream of such a thing,’ he said. ‘No, they have instead armed themselves with a sort of weapon that is perfectly legal and at the same time does no harm to the environment.’
‘What on earth are you talking about?’ asked the Inspector.
‘Just you see,’ said Nose Uncle and once more raised his whistle to his lips and blew two short blasts. ‘Now let the real battle commence.’
Chapter 20
The largest of the dacoits, a particularly unattractive fellow with hairy ears and bulging eyeballs, decided that the time for throwing stones was over and that more aggressive action was called for.
He raised his lathi above his head and, waving to the other dacoits to follow suit, made it clear he was going to charge at the Inspector, the driver and Nose Uncle. The last thing that he ever expected was to be hit square in the face by a large, squishy object that blinded him and for a moment brought him to a sudden halt. The object was immediately followed by another and then another. Shocked and dazed, he collapsed under the attack and, with another blow on the stomach that took all the wind out of his lungs, fell to his knees, as if praying.
The other dacoits were also falling back under a similar attack, feebly and unsuccessfully trying to protect themselves with their arms and hands. One of them gave out a shrill scream that was cut short by a direct hit on his mouth. It was not long before all the dacoits were covered from head to foot with a yellow sticky mess. Preeti and her fellows, as well as Nisha and Ram, however, did not stop and continued to hurl their mis
siles with amazing force and accuracy. The dacoits did not know how to deal with the constant rain of objects thrown by the hijras whose brightly coloured saris swirled almost as if they were dancing. Ram was enjoying himself immensely and jumping in the air each time he hit another dacoit, while Nisha’s pigtails swung with the effort of yet another accurate throw.
The Inspector was impressed.
‘What on earth are they throwing?’ she asked.
‘Mangoes,’ said Nose Uncle, encouraging the attack by waving his arms. ‘Oh, well done,’ he cried as another mango hit its target.
‘Mangoes?’
‘Yes. The largest, and softest and most overripe mangoes you’ll find anywhere in India. I invited Preeti and her band of followers to help themselves to any rotting mangoes they could find in my orchard and, by golly, they seem to have taken me at my word. I don’t know how they brought them here, but it is certainly an effective weapon.’
‘I’m sure you’re right,’ said the Inspector anxiously, ‘but the supply must run out soon and then what do we do? We are still outnumbered.’
‘The idea,’ said Nose Uncle, ‘was to prevent the dacoits from escaping and give time for the back-up to arrive. And if I’m not mistaken, here comes the cavalry, right on cue.’
Sure enough, even as he spoke, there was a screech of tyres as a convoy of police cars burst into the farmyard. A score or more of armed police officers jumped out. In a matter of minutes, they had handcuffed the bewildered dacoits, still dripping with ripe mango flesh, and made them sit on the beaten red earth to await the arrival of police wagons to cart them off to jail. Almost immediately, several crows and kites drifted in from the skies and began squabbling over the remnants of the mangoes.
‘See what I mean?’ said Nose Uncle. ‘Environmentally friendly ammunition!’ His main concern, however, was for the children.
‘Nisha! Ram! Are you all right?’
The children ran over to him and hugged him fiercely, glad to see him and at the same time gabbling with excitement over what had just happened.
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