CHAPTER XI
THE MAKING OF A GOD
Parry's departure served as a hint to Noreen that it was time for her tosay good-night to her guests and withdraw. As soon as she left the roomthere was an instant hush of expectancy, and all eyes were turned toDermot. The servants had long since gone, but, after asking his host'spermission, he rose from his place and strolled with apparent carelessnessto each doorway in turn and satisfied himself that there were noeavesdroppers. Then he shut the doors and asked members of the party tostation themselves on guard at each of them. The planters watched theseprecautions with surprise.
Having thus made sure that he would not be overheard Dermot said:
"Gentlemen, a few of you already know something of what I am going to tellyou. I want you to understand that I am now speaking officially and instrict confidence."
He turned to his host.
"I must ask you, Mr. Daleham (Fred looked up in surprise at the formalityof the mode of address) to promise to divulge nothing of what I say to yourfriend, Mr. Chunerbutty."
"Not tell Chunerbutty, sir?" repeated the young planter in astonishment.
"No; the matter is one which must not be mentioned to any but Europeans."
"Oh, but I assure you, Major, Chunerbutty's thoroughly loyal and reliable,"said Daleham warmly.
"I repeat that you are not to give him the least inkling of what I am goingto say," replied Dermot in a quiet but stern voice. "As I have already toldyou, I am speaking officially."
The boy was impressed and a little awed by his manner.
"Oh, certainly, sir. I give you my word that I shan't mention it to him."
"Very well. The fact is, gentlemen, that we are on the track of a vastconspiracy against British rule in India, and have reason to believe thatthe activity of the disloyalists in Bengal has spread to this district. Wesuspect that the Brahmins who, very much to the surprise of any oneacquainted with the ways of their caste, are working as coolies on yourgardens, are really emissaries of the seditionists."
"By George, is that really so, Major?" asked a young planter in a doubtingtone. "We have a couple of these Bengalis on our place, and they seem suchquiet, harmless chaps."
"The Major is quite right. I know it," said one of the oldest men present."I confess that it didn't occur to me as strange that Brahmins should takesuch low-caste work until he told me. But I have found since, as others ofus have, that these men are the secret cause of all the trouble and unrestthat we have had lately among our coolies, to whom they preach sedition andrevolution."
Several other estate managers corroborated his statement.
"But surely, sir, you don't suspect Chunerbutty of being mixed up in this?"asked Daleham. "He's been a friend of mine for a long time. I lived withhim in London, and I'm certain he is quite loyal and pro-British."
"I know nothing of him, Daleham," replied the soldier. "But he is a BengaliBrahmin, one of the race and caste that are responsible for most of thesedition in India, and we must take precautions."
"I'd stake my life on him," exclaimed the boy hotly. "He's been a goodfriend to me, and I'll answer for him."
Dermot did not trouble to argue the matter further with him, but said tothe company generally:
"This outrageous attempt to carry off Miss Daleham--"
"Oh, but you said yourself, sir, that the ruffians were Bhuttias," broke inthe boy, still nourishing a grievance at the mistrust of his friend.
Dermot turned to him again.
"Do Bhuttias talk to each other in Bengali? The leader gave his ordersin that language to one man--who, by the way, was the only one he spoketo--and that man passed them on to the others in Bhutanese."
This statement caused a sensation in the company.
"By Jove, is that a fact, Dermot?" cried Payne.
"Yes. These two were the men I shot. Do Bhuttias, unless they have justlooted a garden successfully--and we know these fellows had not--carry sumslike this?" And Dermot threw on the supper-table a cloth in which coinswere wrapped. "Open that, Payne, and count the money, please."
All bent forward and watched as the planter opened the knot fastening thecloth and poured out a stream of bright rupees, the silver coin of Indiaroughly equivalent to a florin. There was silence while he counted them.
"A hundred," he said.
Dermot laid on the table a new automatic pistol and several clips ofcartridges.
"Bhuttias from across the border do not possess weapons like these, as youknow. Nor do they carry English-made pocket-books with contents like thosethis one has."
He handed a leather case to Granger who opened it and took out a packet ofbank notes and counted them. "Eight hundred and fifty rupees," he said.
The men around him looked at the notes and at each other. A young engineerwhistled and said: "Whew! It pays to be a brigand. I'll turn robber myself,I think. Poor but honest man that I am I have never gazed on so much wealthbefore. Hullo! What's that bit of string?"
Dermot had taken from his pocket the cord that he had cut from the corpseof the second raider and laid it on the table.
"Perhaps some of you may not be sufficiently well acquainted with Indiancustoms to know what this is."
"I'm blessed if I am, Major," said the engineer. "What is it?"
"It's the _janeo_, or sacred cord worn by the three highest of theoriginal Hindu castes as a symbol of their second or spiritual birth andto mark the distinction between their noble twice-born selves and thelower caste once-born Sudras. You see it is made up of three strings ofspun cotton to symbolise the Hindu _Trimurti_ (Trinity), Brahma, Vishnu,and Siva, and also Earth, Air, and Heaven, the three worlds pervaded bytheir essence."
"Oh, I see. But where did you get it?" asked the engineer.
"Off the body of the second man that I shot, together with the pistol andpocket-book. Now, Bhuttias do not wear the _janeo_, not being Hindus. Buthigh-caste Hindus do--and a Brahmin would never be without it."
"Oh, no. So you mean that the man wasn't a Bhuttia?"
"This is the last exhibit, as they say in the Law Courts," said Dermot,producing a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles. "You don't find Bhuttiaswearing these."
"By Jove, no," said Granger, taking them up and trying them. "Damned goodglasses, these, and cost a bit, too."
Dermot turned towards Daleham.
"Do you remember showing me on this garden one day a coolie whom you saidwas a B.A. of Calcutta University?"
"Yes; he was called Narain Dass," replied Fred. "We spoke to him, yourecollect, Major? He talked excellent English of the _babu_ sort."
"What has happened to him?"
"I don't know. He disappeared a short time ago. Deserted, I suppose, thoughI don't see why he should. He was getting on well here."
Dermot smiled grimly and touched the cord and spectacles.
"The man who wore these, who led the Bhuttias in the raid, was NarainDass."
These was a moment's amazed silence in the room. Then a hubbub arose, andthere was a chorus of exclamations and questions.
"Good Heavens, is it possible, Major? He appeared to be such a decent,civil chap," exclaimed Daleham.
"His face seemed familiar to me, as he lay dead on the ground," repliedDermot. "I couldn't place him, though, until I found the spectacles. I putthem on his nose, and then I knew him. His hair was cropped close, he waswearing Bhuttia clothes, but it was Narain Dass, the University graduatewho was working as a coolie for a few _annas_ a day."
"And he had eight hundred and fifty rupees on him," added the youngengineer.
"Yes; and if all the Bhuttias had as much as the one shot that meant overtwo thousand."
"Where did they get it?"
"Who is behind all this?"
"The seditionists, of course," said an elderly planter.
"Yes; but today it isn't a question of an isolated outrage on oneEnglishwoman, nor of a few Bengali lawyers in Calcutta and their dupesamong hot-headed students and ignorant peasants," said Dermot. "It's thebiggest th
ing we've ever had to face yet in India. What we want to get atis the head and brains of the conspiracy."
"What do you make of this attempt on Miss Daleham?" asked Granger. "Whatwas the object of it?"
"Probably just terrorism. They wanted to show that no one is secure underour rule. It may be that Narain Dass, who had worked on this garden andseen Miss Daleham, suggested it. They may have thought that the carryingoff of an Englishwoman would make more impression than the mere bombing ofa police officer or a magistrate--we are too used to that."
"But why employ Bhuttias?" asked Payne.
"To throw the pursuers off the track and prevent their being run down. Thesearch would stop if we thought they'd gone across the frontier, so theycould get away easily. When they had got Miss Daleham safely hidden away inthe labyrinths of a native bazaar, perhaps in Calcutta, they'd have leteveryone know who had carried her off."
"Who was the other fellow with Narain Dass--the chap who talked Bengali?"
"Probably a Bhuttia who knew the language was given the Brahmin as aninterpreter."
"But I say, Major," cried a planter, "who the devil were the lot thatattacked you?"
"I'm hanged if I know," Dermot answered. "I have been inclined to believethem to be a gang of political _dacoits_, probably coming to meet theBhuttias and take Miss Daleham from them, but in that case they would havebeen young Brahmins and better armed. This lot were low-caste men and theirweapons were mostly old muzzle-loading muskets."
"Perhaps they were just ordinary _dacoits_," hazarded a planter.
"Possibly; but they must have been new to the business," replied the Major."For there wouldn't be much of an opening for robbers in the middle of theforest."
"It's a puzzle. I can't make it out," said Granger, shaking his head.
The others discussed the subject for some time, but no one could elucidatethe mystery. At length Dermot said to Daleham:
"No answer has come to that telegram you sent to Ranga Duar, I suppose?"
"No, Major; though there's been plenty of time for a reply."
"It's strange. Parker would have answered at once if he'd got the wire, Iknow," said Dermot. "But did he? Most of the telegraph clerks in thisProvince are Brahmins--I don't trust them. Anyhow, if Parker did receivethe wire, he'd start a party off at once. It's a long forty miles, andmarching through the jungle is slow work. They couldn't get here beforedawn. And the men would be pretty done up."
"I bet they would if they had to go through the forest in the dark," said aplanter.
"Well, I want to start at daybreak to search the scene of the attack on usand the place where I came on the Bhuttias. Will some of you fellows comewith me?"
"Rather. We'll all go," was the shout from all at the table.
"Thanks. We may round up some of the survivors."
"I say, Major, would you tell us a thing that's puzzled me, and I daresaymore than me?" ventured a young assistant manager, voicing the thoughts ofothers present. "How the deuce did those wild elephants happen to turn upjust in the nick of time for you?"
"They were probably close by and the firing disturbed them," was thecareless answer.
"H'm; very curious, wasn't it, Major?" said Granger. "You know the habitsof the _jungli hathi_ better than most other people. Wouldn't they be farmore likely to run away from the firing than right into it?"
"As a rule. But when wild elephants stampede in a panic they'll go throughanything."
The assistant manager was persistent.
"But how did your elephant chance to join up with them?" he asked. "Judgingby the look of him he took a very prominent part in clearing your enemiesoff."
"Oh, Badshah is a fighter. I daresay if there was a scrap anywhere near himhe'd like to be in it," replied Dermot lightly, and tried to change theconversation.
But the others insisted on keeping to the subject. They had all beencurious as to the truth of the stories about Dermot's supposed miraculouspower over wild elephants, but no one had ever ventured to question him onthe subject before.
"I suppose you know, Major, that the natives have some wonderful talesabout Badshah?" said a planter.
"Yes; and of you, too, sir," said the young assistant manager. "They thinkyou both some special brand of gods."
"I'm not surprised," said the Major with assumed carelessness. "They'reready to deify anything. They will see a god in a stone or a tree. You knowthey looked on the famous John Nicholson during the Mutiny as a god, andmade a cult of him. There are still men who worship him."
"They're prepared to do that to you, Major," said Granger frankly. "Barrettis quite right. They call you the Elephant God."
Dermot laughed and stood up.
"Oh, natives will believe anything," he said. "If you'll excuse me now,Daleham, I'll turn in--or rather, turn out. I'd like to get some sleep, forwe've an early start before us."
"Yes, we'd better all do the same," said Granger, rising too. "How are yougoing to bed us all down, Daleham? Bit of a job, isn't it?"
"We'll manage all right," replied the young host. "I told the servants tospread all the mattresses and charpoys that they could raise anywhere outon the verandah and in the spare rooms. I'm short of mosquito curtains,though. Some of you will get badly bitten tonight."
"I'll go to old Parr's bungalow and steal his," said Granger. "He's toodrunk to feel any 'skeeter biting him."
"I pity the mosquito that does," joined in a young planter laughing. "Thepoor insect would die of alcoholic poisoning."
"I've given you my room, Major," said Daleham. "I know the other fellowswon't mind."
No persuasion, however, could make Dermot accept the offer. Whilethe others slept in the bungalow, he lay under the stars beside hiselephant. The house was wrapped in darkness. In the huts in the compoundthe servants still gossiped about the extraordinary events of the day,but gradually they too lay down and pulled their blankets over theirheads, and all was silence. But a few hundred yards away a lamp stillburned in Chunerbutty's bungalow where the Hindu sat staring at the wallof his room, wondering what had happened that day and what had beensaid in the Dalehams' dining-room that night. For he had prowled abouttheir house in the darkness and seen the company gathered around thesupper-table. And he had watched Dermot shut the door between the roomand the verandah, and guessed that things were to be said that Indianswere not meant to hear. So through the night he sat motionless in hischair with mind and heart full of bitterness, cursing the soldier by allhe held unholy.
Long before dawn Noreen, refreshed by sleep and quite recovered from thefatigues and alarms of the previous day, was up to superintend the earlymeal that her servants prepared for the departing company. No one but herbrother was returning to Malpura, the others were to scatter to their owngardens when Dermot had finished with them.
As the girl said good-bye to the planters she warmly thanked each one forhis chivalrous readiness to come to her aid. But to the soldier she foundit hard, impossible, to say all that was in her heart, and to an onlookerher farewell to him would have seemed abrupt, almost cold. But heunderstood her, and long after he had vanished from sight she seemed tofeel the friendly pressure of his hand on hers. When she went to her roomsthe tears filled her eyes, as she kissed the fingers that his had held.
Out in the forest the Major led the way on Badshah, the ponies of hisfollowers keeping at a respectful distance from the elephant. When nearingthe scene of the fight the tracks of the avenging herd were plain to see,and soon the party came upon ghastly evidences of the tragedy. The buzzingof innumerable flies guided the searchers to spots in the undergrowth wherethe scattered corpses lay. As each was reached a black cloud of blood-drunkwinged insects rose in the air from the loathsome mass of red, crushedpulp, but trains of big ants came and went undisturbed. The dense foliagehad hidden the battered, shapeless bodies from the eyes of the soaringvultures high up in the blue sky, otherwise nothing but scattered boneswould have remained. Now the task of scavenging was left to the insects.
Over
twenty corpses were found. When an angry elephant has wreaked his rageon a man the result is something that is difficult to recognise as theremains of a human being. So out of the twenty, the attackers shot byDermot were the only ones whose bodies were in a fit state to be examined.But they afforded no clue to the identity of the mysterious assailants. Themen appeared to have been low-caste Hindus of the coolie class. Theycarried nothing on their persons except a little food--a few broken_chupatis_, a handful of coarse grain, an onion or two, and a few_cardamoms_ tied up in a bit of cloth. Each had a powder-flask and a smallbag with some spherical bullets in it hung on a string passed over oneshoulder. The weapons found were mostly old Tower muskets, the marks onwhich showed that at one time they had belonged to various native regimentsin the service of the East India Company. But there were two or threefairly modern rifles of French or German make.
These latter Dermot tied on his elephant, and, as there was nothing furtherto be learned here, he led the way to the other spot which he wished tovisit. But when, after a canter along the narrow, winding track through thedense undergrowth, jumping fallen trees and dodging overhanging branches,the party drew near the open glade in which Dermot had overtaken theraiders, a chorus of loud and angry squawks, the rushing sound of heavywings and the rustling of feathered bodies prepared them fordisappointment. When they entered it there was nothing to be seen but twostruggling groups of vultures jostling and fighting over what had beenhuman bodies. For the glade was open to the sky and the keen eyes of thefoul scavengers had detected the corpses, of which nothing was left now buttorn clothing, mangled flesh, and scattered bones. So there was nopossibility of Daleham's deciding if Dermot had been right in believingthat one of the two raiders that he had killed was the Calcutta Bachelor ofArts. On the whole the search had proved fruitless, for no further clue tothe identity of either body of miscreants was found.
So the riders turned back. At various points of the homeward journeymembers of the party went off down tracks leading in the direction of theirrespective gardens, and there was but a small remnant left when Dermot saidgood-bye, after hearty thanks from Daleham and cheery farewells from theothers.
He did not reach the Fort until the following day. There he learned thatParker had never received the telegram asking for help. Subsequentenquiries from the telegraph authorities only elicited the statement thatthe line had been broken between Barwahi and Ranga Duar. As where it passedthrough the forest accidents to it from trees knocked down by elephants orbrought down by natural causes were frequent, it was impossible to discoverthe truth, but the fact that nearly all the telegraph officials wereBengali Brahmins made Dermot doubtful. But he was able to report thehappenings to Simla by cipher messages over the line.
Parker was furious because the information had failed to reach him. He hadmissed the opportunity of marching a party of his men down to the rescue ofMiss Daleham and his commanding officer, and he was not consoled by thelatter pointing out to him that it would have been impossible for him tohave arrived in time for the fight.
Two days after Dermot's return to the Fort he was informed that threeBhuttias wanted to see him. On going out on to the verandah of his bungalowhe found an old man whom he recognised as the headman of a mountain villagejust inside the British border, ten miles from Ranga Duar. Beside him stoodtwo sturdy young Bhuttias with a hang-dog expression on their Mongol-likefaces.
The headman, who was one of those in Dermot's pay, saluted and, draggingforward his two companions, bade them say what they had come there to say.Each of the young men pulled out of the breast of his jacket a littlecloth-wrapped parcel, and, opening it, poured a stream of bright silverrupees at the feet of the astonished Major. Then they threw themselves ontheir knees before him, touched the ground with their foreheads, andimplored his pardon, saying that they had sinned against him in ignoranceand offered in atonement the price of their crime.
Dermot turned enquiringly to the headman, who explained that the two hadtaken part in the carrying off of the white _mem_, and being now convincedthat they had in so doing offended a very powerful being--god or devil--hadcome to implore his pardon.
Their story was soon told. They said that they had been approached by acertain Bhuttia who, formerly residing in British territory, had beenforced to flee to Bhutan by reason of his many crimes. Nevertheless, hemade frequent secret visits across the border. For fifty rupees--a princelysum to them--he induced them to agree to join with others in carrying offMiss Daleham. They found subsequently that the real leader of theenterprise was a Hindu masquerading as a Bhuttia.
When they had succeeded in their object they were directed to go to acertain spot in the jungle where they were to be met by another party towhich they were to hand over the Englishwoman. Having reached the placefirst they were waiting for the others when Dermot appeared. So terriblewere the tales told in their villages about this dread white man and hismysterious elephant that, believing that he had come to punish them fortheir crime, all but the two leaders fled in panic. Several of thefugitives ran into the party of armed Hindus which they were to meet, amember of which spoke a certain amount of Bhutanese. Having learned whathad happened he ordered them to guide the newcomers' pursuit.
When the attack began the Bhuttias, having no fire-arms, took refuge intrees. So when the herd swept down upon the assailants all the hillmenescaped. But they were witnesses of the terrible vengeance of the powerfuldevil-man and devil-elephant. When at last they had ventured to descendfrom the trees that had proved their salvation and returned to theirvillages these two confided the story to their headman. At his orders theyhad come to surrender the price of their crime and plead for pardon.
Their story only deepened the mystery, for, when Dermot eagerlyquestioned them as to the identity of the Hindus, he was again broughtup against a blank wall, for they knew nothing of them. He deemed itpolitic to promise to forgive them and allow them to keep the money thatthey had received, after he had thoroughly impressed upon them theenormity of their guilt in daring to lay hands upon a white woman. Heordered them as a penance to visit all the Bhuttia villages on each sideof the border and tell everyone how terrible was the punishment for sucha crime. They were first to seek out their companions in the raid andlay the same task on them. He found afterwards that these latter hadhardly waited to be told, for they had already spread broadcast thetale, which grew as it travelled. Before long every mountain and junglevillage had heard how the Demon-Man had overtaken the raiders on hismarvellous winged elephant, slain some by breathing fire on them andcalled up from the Lower Hell a troop of devils, half dragons, halfelephants, who had torn the other criminals limb from limb or eaten themalive. So, not the fear of the Government, as Dermot intended, but theterror of him and his attendant devil Badshah, lay heavy on theborder-side.
Chunerbutty, kept at the soldier's request in utter ignorance of morethan the fact that Noreen had been rescued by him from the raiders, hadconcluded at first that the crime was what it appeared on the surface--adescent of trans-frontier Bhuttias to carry off a white woman for ransom.But when these stories reached the tea-garden villages and eventually cameto his ears he was very puzzled. For he knew that, in spite of theirextravagance, there was probably a grain of truth somewhere in them. Theymade him suspect that some other agency had been at work and another reasonthan hope of money had inspired the outrage.
In the Palace at Lalpuri a tempest raged. The Rajah, mad with fury anddisappointed desire, stormed through his apartments, beating his servantsand threatening all his satellites with torture and death. For no news hadcome to him for days as to the success or failure of a project that he hadconceived in his diseased brain. Distrusting Chunerbutty, as he dideveryone about him, he had sent for Narain Dass, whom he knew as one of the_Dewan's_ agents, and given him the task of executing his original designof carrying off Miss Daleham. To the Bengali's subtle mind had occurred theidea of making the outrage seem the work of Bhuttia raiders. But forDermot's prompt pursuit his plan would have been crowne
d with success. Thegirl, handed over as arranged to a party of the Rajah's soldiers indisguise, would have been taken to the Palace at Lalpuri, while everyonebelieved her a captive in Bhutan.
At length a few poor wretches, who had escaped their comrades' terribledoom under the feet of the wild elephants and, mad with terror, hadwandered in the jungle for days, crept back starved and almost mad to thecapital of the State. Only one was rash enough to return to the Palace,while the others, fearing to face their lord when they had only failure toreport, hid in the slums of the bazaar. This one was summoned to theRajah's presence. His tale was heard with unbelief and rage, and he wasordered to be trampled to death by the ruler's trained elephants. Searchwas made through the bazaar for the other men who had returned, and whenthey were caught their punishment was more terrible still. Inconceivabletortures were inflicted on them and they were flung half-dead into a pitfull of live scorpions and cobras. Even in these enlightened days there aredark corners in India, and in some Native States strange and terriblethings still happen. And the tale of them rarely reaches the ear of therepresentatives of the Suzerain Power or the columns of the daily press.
The Elephant God Page 13