Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2018 with funding from 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 https://archive.org/details/knaveryunmaskedoOOalim 
 
t 
 
 M KNAVERY UNMASKED 
 
 W. H. ALLiijN & CO., LD., 
 
 LONDON AND CALCUTTA. 
 
 1891. 
 
 (All rights reserved). 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 X was travelling, a couple of years ago^with a 
 gentleman largely interested in Railway Book Stalls 
 in England. In the course of conversation he men¬ 
 tioned to me the kind of literature most in favour 
 with railway travellers. The largest run, he said, 
 were on books containing a collection of short amus¬ 
 ing stories, each, with just sufficient reading matter 
 to keep the mind occupied during the run between 
 Stations. Sketches of character, would, he thought, 
 be more popular in any other form than that of a 
 novel. If a book were produced delineating character 
 for English readers after the model of Boccaccio’s 
 Decameron, it would take immensely. The Deca¬ 
 meron^ though it is only a translation, and the man¬ 
 ners and customs of the characters delineated are 
 foreign and un-English, yet the book has continued 
 to amuse all Europe for four centuries, and is as 
 popular to-day as when it first appeared. 
 
 I have taken the hint, and followed the model of 
 the Decameron in producing the following sketches 
 of Native Indian character. The stories are all more 
 or less—and, I may add,—more than less, founded 
 on fact. They embody a life’s experience of the 
 crooks, the turns, and the windings of the Asiatic 
 mind. 
 
 I may mention, in conclusion, that “ Knavery 
 Unmasked” appeared in the columns of the I. P, 
 Gazette, last year. 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Chapter 
 
 I. 
 
 II. 
 
 III. 
 
 IY. 
 
 Y. 
 
 VI. 
 
 VII. 
 
 VIII. 
 IX. 
 
 X. 
 
 XI. 
 
 XII. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 XIV. 
 XV. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 XVII. 
 XVIII. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 XX. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 XXX. 
 XXXI. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Page 
 
 Mahamed Ali’s Story ... ... ... 1 
 
 Dacoity ... ... ... 12 
 
 The Chief’s Story ... ... ... 22 
 
 Peer Khan’s Story ... ... ... 31 
 
 The Pathan’s Story ... ... ... 41 
 
 The Fakir’s Story ... ... ... 52 
 
 The Baboo’s Story ... ... ... 65 
 
 The Native Christian’s Story ... ... 73 
 
 The Story of the “ Mock Rajah” ... ... 85 
 
 The Darogah’s Story ... ... ... 93 
 
 The Story of a Professional Thug ... ... 102 
 
 The Pir’s Story ... ... ... 112 
 
 The History of a “ Snttee” ... ... 124 
 
 The Astrologer’s Story ... ... ... 136 
 
 The Story of an escaped convict from the Andamans 146 
 The Story of Nunsoling the Naga '... ... 159 
 
 The Story of the Village Chowkeydar ... 168 
 
 The Ghatak’s Story ... ... ... 181 
 
 The Story of an Ex- C. S. ... ... 191 
 
 The Story of a Professional Burglar ... . ... 201 
 
 Ally Mahomed relates his experience or'travelling 
 
 on the Brahmapootra in the ‘ good old days ’ 221 
 The Burman relates how arms and ammunition 
 
 are smuggled out of British India ... 225 
 
 The Story of a Police Spy ... ... 238 
 
 The Story of an Opium Smuggler ... ... 248 
 
 The Story of an Aspirant to a Throne ... 256 
 
 The History of a remarkable Murder ... 266 
 
 The Story of a Professional Coiner ... ... 277 
 
 John Chinaman’s Story ... ... 288 
 
 The Story of a City Sharper ... ... 299 
 
 The Story of the Ojha (Demon Expeller) ... 313 
 
 The Story of a Koord : a Romance in real life ... 322 
 
 Concluding Story, a Big Dacoity ... ... 333 
 
KNAVERY UNMASKED; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE CONFESSIONS OF A CELEBRATED DACOIT. 
 
 * • bt 
 
 AN INDIAN DETECTIVE. 
 
 
 There is, perliaps, no country in the world in which the 
 annals of crime afford more ample material for sensational 
 writing than India, and none where the opportunities are so 
 rarely utilised. The harvest, indeed, is plenteous, hut the 
 labourers are few. We need not indent on the realms of 
 fancy and imagination to give colour to the picture, or 
 heighten its effect, for mere truth is stranger than fiction ! 
 Neither is it necessary to go so far bach as the days of 
 suttee , or of the thugs , when the fatal noose, or the poisoned 
 chapattie was the dread of travellers and belated pe¬ 
 destrians, in search of a subject to point a moral or adorn a 
 tale. The records of the Criminal Courts of India bear 
 ample testimony to the existence of romance in real 
 life, the stock-in-trade of sensational novelists. 
 
 The confessions of the hero of the following thrilling 
 and interesting narratives will introduce the reader to 
 
2 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 a new world of crime, villainy, and trickery as these 
 exist throughout the length and breadth of our vast 
 Indian Empire. The narrator is a released convict, a 
 convert from Hinduism. Mahamed Ali, for that was 
 the name he adopted, had been convicted of dacoity 
 and sentenced to transportation for life, but on the occa¬ 
 sion of the Queen’s Proclamation was pardoned and releas¬ 
 ed, with two thousand other life-convicts, at the age of 
 fifty-five years. He had been a daring dacoit from a com¬ 
 paratively early age. His undaunted courage, fearless 
 audacity and remarkable ingenuity in committing breach¬ 
 es of the law and of evading and escaping detection and 
 punishment raised him to the dignity of a hero among his 
 own fraternity. Even the common people almost wor¬ 
 shipped him as a demi-god ! He was second only in name 
 and fame to the celebrated Tanti Blieel before his capture 
 and conviction. These “ confessions ” were recorded 
 while the convict was confined in the premises since 
 converted into a reformatory school at Alipore in the 
 suburbs of Calcutta after his return from the Andaman 
 Islands. We will begin with the history of the convict’s 
 early life, as related by himself :— 
 
 “ I am a convert from Hindooism and the youngest of 
 seven brothers. We were Khettrees by caste, and what is 
 more than that, Chohans, but we were poor, and our in¬ 
 heritance was small. Our father had sent three of us to 
 Calcutta to seek service as durwans, two to join the army, 
 and two, the eldest and myself, remained at home. I was 
 in my twentieth year when the crops failed, the rains came 
 so late as to make sowing next to useless, but we did our 
 level best nevertheless. All our efforts were in vain all 
 the same. Day followed day, but the Agni drove the mists 
 away and only sent us clouds of dust when we had hoped 
 
MAHAMED ALl’S STORY. 
 
 3 
 
 and prayed for rain. The heavens did at last break and 
 sent down a torrent of water which washed our fields 
 bare, and drowned our last and only hope ! The mahajuns 
 raised the price of food to starvation point. Our brethren 
 could not send us help enough and our family store slowly 
 but surely melted away. We knew that before another 
 harvest could come to save us, we should have nothing to 
 eat. The low castes managed to find food, but of the 
 most abhorrent and revolting description; the Khettrees 
 preferred, starvation to pollution! At last, after our wo¬ 
 men had walked in their shame three times round the 
 parched fields, and the wolves had grown fat on the 
 bodies of the wretched raiyats who had died while seek¬ 
 ing roots and berries in the jungles, a Brahmin jogee 
 came round our village, crying, Alas! and alas! the 
 wrath of Kali has overtaken my people! 
 
 “ He was a tall, cadaverous individual, with long mat¬ 
 ted hair and beard, grey with ashes. His small sunken 
 eyes gleamed with a horrible fire, and seemed to pierce 
 your inmost soul! I was unfortunate enough to incur his 
 hate. Young and strong, I could not believe that the day 
 would come when our father would close the house door, 
 and bid us choose, because we had eaten our last meal, 
 and spent our last pice, whether we would sit still and 
 die, or whether, as became the sons of Chohan fathers, 
 we would not rather accept a blow from his knife! At 
 this moment the jogee came to the gate, and called on my 
 father to do his duty as a Hindoo, and avert the wrath 
 of Kali from the perishing land. It is hopeless, my 
 father said in reply, to fight against fate, it is better that 
 I should put on my sword and buckler and perish in front 
 of my clan! But the Jogee replied, fools only die in that 
 way, Kali wants her rites and must be propitiated ! He 
 
4 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED, 
 
 then cast upon my father a look of withering scorn ac¬ 
 companied with a terrible curse, if he failed in his duty 
 to the goddess. * Indignant at the jogee 9 8 insolence to my 
 father, who was a Ohohan, I rudely told him to begone l 
 that we neither feared him or his threats ! He made no 
 answer, but gazed at me until, in spite of my courage 
 and determination, I felt as if his look were drying up 
 the very life blood within me. But I would not yield, 
 and I felt my spirits rise as my father told the jogee this 
 was no time for folly, and desired him to leave the place. 
 The moment he turned to depart, I fell down in a faint. 
 Some days after this I was told by my father that there 
 was to be a great meeting in the old temple of Kali. The 
 jogee would preside, and all the Brahmins, including the 
 Ivhettrees, for miles around were summoned to attend. 
 The lower castes were excluded, as the meeting was to 
 decide in what way the wrath of Kali should be averted. 
 My father next directed me to proceed to a certain man- 
 goe tope , that had once been our possession, and dig 
 beneath a tree which he indicated, for the family armour. 
 These I was ordered to bring home, clean and prepare 
 for use. The night of the meeting came in due course, 
 and my father, brother and myself, each clad in a coat 
 of mail and with swords and shields repaired to the old 
 temple of Kali. A large crowd had already assembled in 
 front of its mouldering gateway. The walls of the tem¬ 
 ple itself loomed up in the darkness like a huge shadowy 
 mansion, and its silence and gloom made us all feel how 
 solemn a mission we had come upon. Presently a lighted 
 torch appeared in the distance. As it approached the 
 demon face of the jogee could be seen at intervals as he 
 followed in the footsteps of the torch bearer. He passed 
 in silence through the crowd, as if he had not noticed 
 
MAHAMED All’s STORY. 
 
 5 
 
 those who were waiting for him. Mounting the platform 
 on which the mundir was built, he called for lights and 
 directed the- assembled multitude to enter the temple 
 with him. The people obeyed and approached the mundir 
 in profound silence. A dozen of torch lights gave a wild 
 and unearthly appearance to the sea of careworn and 
 anxious faces fixed on the jogee. Nearly every man had a 
 shield or armour of some kind 'and in every girdle de¬ 
 pended a sword or dagger. My father and a few other 
 leading men amongst the crowd wore shirts of mail. 
 These were singled out to form a kind of bodyguard to 
 the jogee , who, I may mention was a Bengalee. Just as 
 he. was about to address the meeting, two huge cobras 
 sprung up from behind the idol. They reared themselves 
 up and expanding their hoods continued to hiss and sway 
 backwards and forwards as the jogee raised or lowered bis 
 voice; and when he paused in his discourse the cobras 
 sank down and disappeared beneath the statue of the god¬ 
 dess. The meeting became spell bound. It seemed as 
 Kali herself had appeared amongst us, and every man 
 present was prepared to lay down his life at the bidding 
 of the jogee. The jogee burst out again into a wild chant 
 and the cobras reappeared and literally danced an accom¬ 
 paniment. He was singing to Kali and telling her we 
 would do all she required. The chant ceased and the 
 serpents drew back and disappeared as before. Not a 
 soul moved. The jogee raising his hand told the meeting 
 that Kali herself was present amongst them and had ac¬ 
 cepted the offer that he had made in behalf of the starving 
 multitude, namely, that three of their youths and three 
 maidens should be sacrificed that night week. Every 
 head bowed in acquiescence. The jogee then moved away 
 from the idol and taking his stand in the centre of the 
 
6 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 crowd, made eacli mein come forward and swear in pro* 
 sence of the goddess to do her bidding and keep her 
 secret. Each in turn went forward, and the jogee poured 
 into his hand a few drops of Granges water over which he 
 swore to do as the holy man had directed and finally 
 drinking the water bowed, and said a short prayer to the 
 goddess. 
 
 “ Then came the horrible task of selecting the victims ! 
 The jogee asked if the fathers present would make a 
 choice, or if they preferred that he should do it for them ? 
 Of course he had his own way in the matter, and I was 
 the first youth singled out for slaughter! Two others 
 about my own age were next selected from amongst the 
 young men present. The girls had to be chosen from the 
 low castes as Chohan fathers rear no daughters. After 
 the selection of the victims the jogee advanced towards 
 the goddess, the mail clad men forming a line on either 
 side of him and the torch bearers in front. At a given 
 signal one of the Brahmins present brought in a goat 
 which another Brahmin decapitated at a single blow. 
 Its head was placed in front of the goddess and each of 
 the male victims were called up, and marked on the fore¬ 
 head, breast, and arms with the blood. Then the jogee 
 led us all outside of the temple, and warning us, on pain of 
 everlasting torment, not to forget our oath and duty to the 
 goddess, dismissed us. The jogee then departed as he had 
 come, in silence, accompanied by a single torch bearer. I 
 felt at the time both honoured and disgraced. Honoured 
 I was chosen to die for my people in order to purchase 
 Jthe favour of Kali; disgraced at the thought of being de¬ 
 filed with blood, being a Chohan. After this no one spoke to 
 me or noticed me, unless to treat me as an idol is treated. 
 I was told by the jogee I might do as I liked during the 
 
MAHAMED ALl’s STORY. 
 
 7 
 
 few days allotted to me ; and that if I desired it I might 
 have the fairest damsel in the neighbourhood as a com¬ 
 panion. But Cliohans have no such desires. It was my 
 father’s duty by right to find me a wife; and 1 told the 
 jogee so. I had a strong suspicion that my selection by the 
 jogee to die for my people was prompted, as much by hatred 
 as religion. But I did not give expression to my thoughts; 
 it would have been useless ; indeed, considered sacrilegious 
 to do so. Strange to say, although every green thing had 
 been scorched and withered up by the drought, I was 
 provided with fresh garlands to wear. The cattle were 
 dying in thousands for want of food, yet I was furnished 
 with plenty of new milk. If I went near a neighbour’s 
 house I was entreated to enter, under the belief that in 
 doing so a blessing and good luck would result to the 
 inmates. 
 
 “ The week’s grace allowed me at last came to an end. 
 As I stood face to face with my doom and looked out 
 upon the panic-stricken village, the forsaken fields, across 
 which whirled mocking pillars of dust, and the merciless 
 sky, like a canopy of red hot steel, gleaming and glowing, 
 over a parched and desolate land, I thought it but a poor 
 sacrifice to die under such circumstances. 
 
 “ That night I was taken out to a mangoe tope near the 
 temple and made the leader of a small procession, which 
 with dholes beating and sankhs sounding, moved slowly 
 towards the abode of the goddess Kali. When the proces¬ 
 sion arrived at the temple the young new moon could be 
 seen distinctly behind its highest pinnacle. The omen 
 was hailed on all sides with an audible expression of 
 delight! Inside the temple the gloom was deep and 
 dismal to a degree. There was only one torch burning 
 dimly in a recess, and an instinctive horror crept over me as 
 
8 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 - I entered the place. When my eyes became accustomed 
 to the darkness I observed six stont posts of uneven 
 lengths placed in a semicircle in front of the goddess. 
 These six posts partly surrounded another larger and 
 stronger post supported by a wooden platform which 
 moved on wheels like a miniature ruth or car. The jogee 
 now came forward and addressing the spectators said : 
 This sacrifice must on no account fail, therefore, I have so 
 arranged everything, that no human hand is to decapitate 
 a victim; all was profound silence. We, the victims, 
 were made to kneel and deposit our garlands at the feet 
 of the goddess while the jogee laid on our necks a long 
 curved dhao elaborately chased and ornamented. An in- 
 Yoluntary shudder passed over me as I felt the cold steel. 
 I was kneeling on the left of the idol or towards the sun- 
 
 r 
 
 rise, but the jogee on noticing this changed my position 
 to the right, observing as he did so, ‘ The best must be 
 reserved for the last! ’ I was then bound firmly to one 
 of the six posts. I could just move my head, but that 
 was all that was necessary. 
 
 “ The jogee then took the dhao, and I thought that with 
 such a weapon, if properly wielded, any man could take 
 off the head of a bullock at a single blow, let alone the 
 heads of a few youths and maidens ! Moving to the cen¬ 
 tre stake or pillar the jogee inserted the handle of the 
 weapon in a notch evidently prepared to receive it. The 
 ruth was then set in motion and the blade flew round with 
 a fierce swish, that made me shiver ! The consciousness 
 that death was so near at hand struck me with a sudden 
 fear ; a maddening agonising fear that brought out a cold 
 perspiration over my whole body. The maidens were 
 either braver than the youths or cared less for life, for 
 they never looked up once, but stood like statues, beauti- 
 
 I 
 
MAHAMED ALl’S STORY. 
 
 9 
 
 ful in their modesty, waiting their fate ! They were the 
 first to suffer ! The ruth was so placed that it ran be¬ 
 tween two lines of wood, about one cubit in rear of the 
 sacrificial posts, this arrangement caused the blade to 
 describe one harmless revolution between each victim. 
 When all was ready a Brahmin held a wet cloth above 
 the head of the first victim, and at a given signal, dis¬ 
 charged a few drops of water from it. This caused the 
 maiden to raise her head in a startled way and the mo¬ 
 ment she did so, the ruth flew round and sent her head, 
 at a single bound, to the feet of the goddess ! Then fol¬ 
 lowed a wild and maddening shriek of horror as we gazed 
 at the quivering and headless trunk tied to the post! But 
 the sound of the dholes and trumpets drowned our cries, 
 and the Brahmins induced us to bow our heads once 
 more. Then followed another revolution of the ruth and 
 another head bounded to the feet of the blood-thirsty god¬ 
 dess ; and so on until the fifth victim had been decapita¬ 
 ted. Then there was a pause, followed by great confusion 
 amongst the spectators. A cry was raised that the police 
 were at hand and the crowd, panic-stricken, melted away 
 like a wind torn mist. The jogee in despair yelled at the 
 top of his voice ‘ Kali! Kali! the last, the last, only one 
 remains and you will have your rites ; the sacrifice shall 
 not fail, or I lose my life in the attempt! ” In obedience 
 to his cry the Brahmins set the ruth in motion once more. 
 I now heard a great cry outside the temple, and believing 
 relief was at hand, I was seized with a wild and desperate 
 craving for life. Planting my feet firmly against the 
 stake to which I was tied I wrenched myself backwards 
 with all my might and in this act just escaped the blade 
 of the ruth! But the next moment I was felled by a 
 blow on the head and my long and terrible agony was 
 
10 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 ended! When I came to myself it was daylight; my 
 head was hound up, and at a little distance I saw some 
 policemen talking solemnly over something on the ground. 
 It was the dead body of the^ogee. It appeared that in 
 his effort to prevent my escaping he fell a victim to hi§ 
 own diabolical invention, the blade of the ruth nearly cut 
 him in two ! 
 
 “ In consequence of the timely notice the people had of 
 the arrival of the police the crowd had time to disperse 
 before any arrests were made. When the sahibs with a 
 body of police entered the temple the only living soul dis¬ 
 covered was myself, and I was insensible and could afford 
 them no clue to the parties responsible for the deaths of 
 five innocent youths and maidens. A search was made in 
 the neighbourhood, but all the villages around were found 
 deserted. In consequence of the injuries I had sustained, 
 I was not very carefully watched and managed to mak/e 
 good my escape from hospital, in order to avoid implicat¬ 
 ing my kinsmen and giving evidence against them. 
 Strange to say, I had not proceeded far before I was seized 
 by a gang of my own tribesmen, who had been on the 
 watch for an opportunity to rescue me from the hands of 
 the police, and hurried away to a place of concealment. 
 The question was debated whether I was to die or nof. 
 The majority decided, that as the sacrifice had failed, and 
 the jogee was dead there was no advantage to be gained, 
 by putting me to death by violence. The crime might be 
 discovered and lead to detection and punishment. But as 
 my life was forfeited to Kali I could not be set at liberty,.* 
 I was, therefore, blindfolded and taken into the heart 
 
 v 
 
 of a dense jungle, tied to a tree and left to perish by star¬ 
 vation. Fortunately the hemp cord with which I wa% 
 bound to the tree passed over a small hole where two. 
 
MAHAMED ALl’S STORY. 
 
 11 
 
 squirrels had taken up their domicile and they cut the 
 string during the night to effect an exit. On the approach 
 of daylight, finding myself at liberty, I turned my steps 
 towards Oudh, in the disguise of a jogee. In Oudh there 
 is a branch of my own tribe, who, many years ago, were 
 compelled to embrace the Moslem faith. I made my way 
 to their chief and voluntarily embraced the profession of 
 Islam. Finding, after a time, I was but coldly received, I 
 fled from the place, and, after many wanderings, joined a 
 band of dacoits, uiide^bheHiTrdeT-sliip of-t he re; 10 wire d 
 
12 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 DACOITY. 
 
 Abdoola Khan was a notorious dacoit leader, and a 
 fugitive from justice. He had a large following, all men 
 of courage and daring like himself. The head-quarters 
 of Abdoola Khan’s hand was situated on the slope of a 
 range of hills, well within the borders of an independent- 
 native State. Here he was perfectly secure and free 
 from molestation so long as- he and his men abstained 
 from plunder in the Rajah’s territory. Indeed, it was on 
 these conditions only he was permitted to occupy his 
 mountain home. Abdoola’s band made periodical raids 
 into British territory and always returned laden with loot . 
 I was received in a most amicable manner by the whole 
 band, for my strength and activity made me a valuable 
 acquisition to the fraternity. The chief himself under¬ 
 took to initiate me, and teach me the stratagems of the 
 profession, which, however, I was called on to put ni 
 
DACOITY. 13 
 
 practice before my tuition hacl progressed very far. But 
 I was an apt pupil and soon learned the business. 
 
 Preparations had been going on for about a month 
 previous to my joining the dacoits to loot a prosperous 
 village in British territory about eight miles across the 
 border. The head man of the village had either been 
 privately informed of, or suspected our designs, and had 
 in consequence induced the authorities to strengthen a 
 police outpost on our line of route. Our chief had heard of 
 this counter move and a council of war was held to devise 
 some stratagem to checkmate the police. I suggested that 
 one of our number—the lightest man of the band, should 
 be tied down upon a charpoy (cot) under the pretence of 
 having hydrophobia, and carried on our shoulders past 
 the police outpost. The arms of the party could be con¬ 
 cealed by the same means, as the police would be very 
 careful in approaching a man suffering from such a terri¬ 
 ble affliction. This stratagem was agreed to without a 
 single dissenting voice, and I rose at once in the estima¬ 
 tion of the chief and his men. I was known amongst the 
 fraternity ever after as the “ingenuity man.” 
 
 The night selected for the adventure arrived. As ar¬ 
 ranged, one of the party was lashed down in a charpoy 
 with all the arms and covered over with a sutranjee which 
 was also tied down. This done the cot was hoisted on 
 the shoulders of four men and borne off, followed by the 
 remainder of the band disguised as cultivators. On near¬ 
 ing the police outpost we were challenged by the man on 
 duty. In reply to his enquiries we told him that the man 
 in the charpoy was suffering from hydrophobia and that 
 we were taking him to a celebrated jogee who resided in a 
 village some distance off (the one, in fact, we were going 
 to loot /) to have him cured of the distemper. Here the 
 
14 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 patient became very violent and barked like a dog, and 
 we were told to get him out of the way as speedily as 
 possible. So we continued our journey without further 
 molestation till we approached the doomed village. 
 When we were again challenged by the watchman. We 
 told him the same story as we had told at the police out¬ 
 post, and asked the way to the house of the jogee. As 
 the watchman turned to lead the way one of our men 
 threw a gumsha over his head from behind and gagged 
 him. Two others caught him by the hands and feet and 
 tied him up so that he could neither speak nor move. He 
 was then taken off the road and concealed behind a straw 
 stack. The watchman having been put out of the road 
 and quietly disposed of, we released the man from the 
 charpoy , and armed ourselves for action. Before, how¬ 
 ever, commencing operations we placed a man at each 
 outlet from the village to prevent any of the inhabitants 
 escaping to inform the police. 
 
 When all the arrangements necessary to ensure the 
 success of the enterprise were completed, we commenced 
 operations on the premises of the wealthiest man in the 
 village—the money-lender or banker. We had just suc¬ 
 ceeded in forcing the door when he made his appearance, 
 and seeing a number of armed men, rightly concluded the 
 nature of our business. So without more ado he dropped 
 on his knees and bowing his head till his face touched the 
 ground begged to assure “ my lords that they were wel¬ 
 come to his poor tenement and as the night was far 
 advanced supposed the travellers would like something 
 to eat and drink and a place to rest till morning.” But 
 his honied speech produced very little impression on a 
 band of dacoits. For our chief immediately ordered the 
 banker to be gagged while two men were sent into the 
 
DACOITY. 
 
 15 
 
 zenana to keep tlie women quiet. In a moment the whole 
 honse, though breaking into an uproar, quieted down so 
 that you could hear a pin drop. “ Now,” said the chief, 
 addressing the money-lender, “ we are not come here to 
 beg for what you choose to give us, but to take all that 
 we can find worth carrying away.” “ My lord,” replied 
 the money-lender, touching the ground again with his 
 forehead, “ I’m a very poor man, have mercy on me! ” 
 “ Put on the thumb screw,” said the chief to one of his 
 men. “ I see we’ll have to squeeze it out of him.” The 
 instruments of torture were accordingly produced, but 
 the very sight of them had the desired effect. The 
 money-lender looking at the chief appealingly begged to 
 be released from his bonds and he would lead their lord- 
 ships to where he kept his treasure. His request was 
 complied with; and fie took us into an inner room, and 
 opening a large iron box brought out about three thousand 
 rupees worth of gold and silver ornaments which had 
 been deposited with him as security for money lent. 
 c Take this,” he said to the chief pointing to the treasure, 
 “‘I’m a ruined man! That’s all I have in the world ! ” 
 and he emphasised the words by calling upon all his gods 
 to bear witness that he spoke the truth. “ It wont do,” 
 returned the chief, “ we want money as well as jewellery.” 
 The banker joined his hand and pleaded for mercy, 
 alleging that all his money was lent out on interest. The 
 chief shook his head with a gesture of incredulity and 
 called for the thumb screws. This argument was irresis¬ 
 tible. The money-lender yielded rather than submit to 
 an acquaintance with the instruments of torture and 
 pointed out where the rupees were buried. The treasure 
 was unearthed in a jiffy and taken possession of. We 
 did not remain to count it, but judging by its weight we 
 
16 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 concluded the amount was not under four thousand 
 rupees. “ Come boys,” said the chief, addressing his 
 men, “ time flies and there is lots of work yet before us. 
 We have pretty well cleared out our old friend the banker 
 and so will bid him a very good night.’ Then turning 
 to the money-lender the chief continued: “ Sorry old fellow 
 that other engagements prevents us accepting your kind 
 hospitality; but you may serve us in another way, don’t 
 make a row over this matter and rouse your neighbours. 
 Remember we are masters of the village.” The victim 
 reluctantly promised compliance and groaning inwardly 
 for the loss of his property, began to beat his forehead 
 ■with his hands after the manner of Orientals when suffer¬ 
 ing from extreme mental agony. So leaving one of our 
 party to prevent the money-lender raising an alarm we 
 proceeded to the next most important house in the village, 
 the liquor vendor. These two men had managed to en¬ 
 rich themselves on the poverty and dissipation of their 
 neighbours, and their spoliation, therefore, excited little 
 sympathy in the village. 
 
 We met with no opposition or remonstrance in breaking 
 into the house of the spirit vendor, and were not a little 
 surprised to find, after exploring the premises, that all 
 the men had mysteriously disappeared. The women were 
 discovered huddled together in a comer crying, and in 
 their terror, were holding on to one another like grim 
 death ! We succeeded after a little persuasion in pacify¬ 
 ing them. Then our chief enquired where the men were. 
 One of the women with apparent reluctance, pointed to a 
 man perched on a cross beam of the roof. He was had 
 down in a jiffy. But on being asked to point out where 
 the money was kept, assured the chief that he did not be¬ 
 long to the house, but was himself a burglar who had 
 
DACOITY. 
 
 17 
 
 come to steal, and on hearing the dacoits breaking open 
 the door had mounted to the cross beam of the roof in hopes 
 of escaping detection. Of course nobody believed this 
 story, and the chief ordered an application of the thumb 
 screws until he was made to change his tune. But the 
 poor fellow fainted from the effects of the torture, still 
 persisting that he was a stranger to the place. It then 
 occurred to our chief that probably the man might be 
 telling the truth, and a closer search was made of the 
 premises, which resulted in the discovery of the real 
 Simon Pure. He was concealed under the bed. When 
 dragged out of his hiding place, more dead than alive 
 with terror, and ordered to disgorge his ill-gotten wealth, 
 he did so without a murmur. He had been an eye-wit¬ 
 ness of the torture the burglar had suffered and rightly 
 concluded that resistance would be useless. Before 
 leaving the house our chief presented the liquor vendor’s 
 wife with a gold bangle, in admiration of her clever tact 
 and ingenuity in trying to shield her husband. She had 
 seen the burglar mount to his hiding place when the noise 
 of armed men were heard forcing open the door, and not¬ 
 withstanding the terror and sense of danger to which she 
 must have been reduced, had the presence of mind, in a 
 critical moment, to take advantage of the circumstance 
 to save her husband. The incident produced a lusting 
 impression on every member of our band. 
 
 As it was now past 3 A. m. we thought it advisable to be 
 making tracks. So collecting our men we made for the 
 spot where the charpoy was concealed. Here a council of 
 war was held to decide how we were to return to our 
 mountain home without exciting the suspicion of the fron¬ 
 tier police. I was called upon to exercise my ingenuity 
 once more. But just at this particular juncture, what 
 2 
 
18 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 with the work and’ excitement of the last three hours, I 
 felt myself quite out of form for devising stratagems ; 
 and said so. The chief suggested a smoke would clear 
 my brain, and ordered one of the men to prepare the huble- 
 buble. I accordingly sat down to smoke and think at the 
 same time. A few whiffs set me all right again, so I got 
 my wits to work and soon devised a means of escape from 
 our present dilemma. This is what I suggested. The 
 lightest man of the company to mount the charpoy as 
 before—the arms and loot to be well packed around him and 
 the whole covered over with a sutranjee and tied down. 
 When challenged by the outpost, pretend that the man 
 afflicted with hydrophobia died before reaching the resi¬ 
 dence of the jogee, and that being pious Hindoos we were 
 taking the body to the bank of a holy stream in the 
 Rajah’s territory for cremation. This story will keep the 
 inquisitive police’ from approaching the cot for fear of 
 pollution, and they will hurry us away. If we told the 
 public guardians of life and property that the jogee effected 
 a cure, they might be curious enough to want to see the man, 
 and possibly examine him. This would not do. But a 
 corpse they will not approach on any consideration. The 
 plan was agreed to and proved a success. When all was 
 ready for a start the charpoy was hoisted on the shoulders 
 of four men and the funeral procession moved off. Two 
 men in advance of the pretended corpse and the remainder 
 in rear, calling out, Hurry Bole ! Hurry Bole ! Ram 
 Sunkur Hurry Bole ! As anticipated, the man on duty 
 at the police outpost on learning the nature of the proces¬ 
 sion ordered us to keep as far away from the thana as 
 possible. This we did, but not without a pretended 
 grumble at being turned oh the Queen’s highway and out 
 of our direct road. Having passed the British outposts 
 
DACOITY. 
 
 19 
 
 we were never questioned again during the remainder of 
 our journey. On reaching our mountain home, which we 
 did just as the glorious orb of day was making his appear¬ 
 ance above the horizon, and comparing notes, the result of 
 the night’s adventure was found little short of fifteen 
 thousand rupees ! “ Not a bad haul for one cast, boys ! ” 
 
 Our chief remarked as he stood contemplating the pile of 
 treasure. “ And now let us from labour to refreshment.” 
 Never were orders more promptly and heartily complied 
 with. Hitherto, the excitement and success of the venture 
 had made us forget the wants of nature, and now that it 
 was over, we felt both hungry and fatigued. So after a 
 hearty meal, hastily prepared, most of us retired to rest 
 for the remainder of the day. By evening exaggerated 
 accounts of the dacoity had spread, like wild fire, all over 
 the district. Two European police superintendents had 
 been deputed to the spot to make enquiries. The 
 ’watchman of the village, who had been gagged and 
 tied up, told the sahibs that the dacoits numbered over 
 a hundred armed men. This exaggerated story threw the 
 police for a time completely off the scent, as Abdoola 
 Khan’s band was known to not exceed twenty-five all 
 told. Then commenced a searching investigation as to 
 how the’dacoits had entered and left the village. It was 
 rightly concluded that such a large body of men could not 
 travel far through a thickly populated district without 
 having been seen or heard by some one. The watchmen 
 of the different villages for miles around were questioned, 
 but no information was elicited calculated to support the 
 statement of the guardian of the pillaged village. All 
 that the European police superintendents could learn, was 
 that about eleven o’clock at night a party of not more 
 than eight men passed the outpost on the main road lead- 
 
20 
 
 KNAVEEY UNMASKED. 
 
 ing from the Rajah’s territory to the village where the 
 dacoity took place carrying a man suffering from hydro¬ 
 phobia on a cot. When questioned by the constable on 
 duty the party said they were taking the patient to the 
 jogee for treatment and that the same party returned about 
 four o’clock in the morning without effecting their purpose, 
 the man having died before reaching the residence of the 
 jogee. Here the police misled, for a time, their European 
 superiors as much by suppressing the actual number of 
 men that passed and repassed their outpost during the 
 night as the watchman, who was gagged and fettered, 
 exaggerated the strength of the party in the first in¬ 
 stance. 
 
 At last the enquiring officers were obliged to give up 
 the matter in despair. The darogah in charge of the out¬ 
 post nearest the village in which the dacoity took place 
 was reduced and transferred to another thana, and the 
 matter dropped. Our chief, after a short consultation 
 with his men, decided that it would not be prudent to 
 venture across the border for at least another month to 
 come. In the meantime, as we had the means, he ven¬ 
 tured to suggest that steps should be taken to make the 
 time pass pleasantly. Accordingly, arrangements were 
 made to get up a party of musicians and dancing girls 
 from the city and make fleet the time in innocent enjoy¬ 
 ment, Every man of the band hailed the proposal with a 
 ringing cheer of delight! So we had a grand nautch , 
 which lasted for a whole week, and was attended by 
 most of the officials of the State. The Dewan lent us 
 the Rajah’s shamiana for the occasion. 
 
 When we got tired of the music and dancing, a pro¬ 
 posal was made, and universally subscribed to, that every 
 man of the band should relate his antecedents and th© 
 
DACOITY, 
 
 21 
 
 circumstances under which he was induced to become a 
 dacoit. The chief opened the entertainment with the 
 hrst story. 
 
22 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 f CHA PTER m. 
 
 * \ 
 
 THE CHIEF’S STORY. 
 
 I am a native of the Chittagong Hill Tracts. When I 
 was a lad of some eighteen snmmers I went ont on a 
 hunting expedition to the Black Mountains. A son of the 
 chief of my clan was one of the party. On rounding the 
 spur of a hill a magnificent buck suddenly sprang out of 
 some low brushwood. The young prince and I, like a 
 flash of lightning, raised our bows, covered the animal and 
 shot at the same moment. The buck rolled over pierced 
 through the heart with a single arrow. I claimed the 
 buck ; but the son of my chief disputed the claim on the 
 ground that the arrow that brought it down flew from his 
 bow. A quarrel ensued over the matter and I stabbed 
 the youth to the heart. Knowing that I must suffer 
 death by the hand of some one of the family whose rela¬ 
 tive I had killed, if caught, I fled into the jungle. The 
 chief and all his household immediately started in pursuit 
 
THE CHIEF’S STORY. 
 
 23 
 
 I 
 
 of tlie murderer of his child, and no pains or toil were 
 spared to try and ferret me out, hut without success. I 
 eluded their vigilance and escaped detection for nearly a 
 year. At last the old chief, worn out with fatigue and 
 burning to avenge the death of his son, looked about for 
 some blood relation of mine on whom he could satisfy the 
 desire of a clansman’s heart for vengeance, pounced 
 upon my decrepit old father, and two brothers. On learn¬ 
 ing this resolve, for I was kept informed by friends of all 
 that was going on and being done to effect my capture, I 
 sent in word that on the day fixed for the execution of my 
 relations I would present myself in person and meet death 
 like a true clansman rather than another, even a stranger, 
 should suffer for my crime. The chief received this in¬ 
 telligence with manifest delight, for it was humiliating to 
 his position that the murderer of his son should be at 
 large and in the enjoyment of his freedom, though obliged 
 to keep out of the way. So the glad tidings of great joy 
 that I was coming in to atone for the life of his child was 
 communicated to the whole clan. The day fixed for my 
 execution arrived and all the people assembled on the 
 plain outside the village. Precisely at twelve o’clock I 
 bounded into the ring formed by the clan. Immediately 
 a shout of triumph went up from the chief and his rela¬ 
 tives. My own people covered their faces with their 
 hands and deplored my fate in a wild chant after the 
 manner of our people on such occasions. I sat down in 
 the centre of the ring, and taking out my flint and steel 
 struck a light and smoked in silence. Every eye was fixed 
 upon me. 
 
 At length I arose and, addressing the chief, said:—“ I 
 killed your son, he was a young and daring spirit like 
 myself. He did me no wrong, he was the friend and 
 
24 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 companion of my youtli. I cut him down in a fit of un¬ 
 governable passion. I am very sorry for it; and I deserve 
 to die. Then turning to the eldest brother of the deceased, 
 I drew the knife from my waist, and throwing it down 
 before him,—said: ‘ There is the weapon that drank the 
 blood of your brother ; take it and like a brave man avenge 
 his death.” Having thus delivered myself in the midst 
 of profound silence, I immediately began to bare my breast 
 and meet my fate. The chief’s eldest son rose to his feet, 
 spat upon his hand, and clenching the knife with a deadly 
 grasp stood with uplifted arm ready for the word of com¬ 
 mand to plunge it into my heart. My kinsmen turned 
 their faces towards Mecca and offered up a prayer to the 
 Most High to receive my spirit. The chief and his ad¬ 
 herents opposed the pious act and proclaimed that any 
 show of sympathy towards the murderer of his son would 
 be resented and severely punished. Whereupon my elder 
 brother stung to the quick at the chief’s inhuman mandate 
 sprang upon the man appointed to be my executioner and 
 cut him down. Then ensued a terrible hand to hand 
 fight with naked knives. As the chief’s party was the 
 strongest in number all my kinsmen were completely an¬ 
 nihilated in less time than it takes me to relate the story. 
 I alone escaped. And having no one now to die for, fled 
 a second time to the jungle, and ultimately into British 
 territory. 
 
 I made my way to Huddea, a district in Bengal, and 
 took service at the Katlamaree Indigo Factory, then under 
 the superintendence of a man named Young. There was 
 another indigo concern in the same neighbourhood called 
 the Apooree Factory, managed by one Bichard Aimes, 
 commonly called by the natives “ Dick Sahib.” There 
 were continual disputes between the managers of these 
 
THE CHIEF’S STORY. 
 
 25 
 
 two factories about indigo land and other matters. Young 
 was a man of a cruel and ferocious disposition, and had 
 frequently got into trouble by his brutality. If any of 
 the wretched ryots had the misfortune to offend him in 
 any way he was immediately seized, carried to the factory 
 and branded with the irons used in stamping the factory 
 mark on the cakes of manufactured indigo. He was also 
 of a very jealous disposition, and easily provoked to acts 
 of violence. 
 
 I had been in the service of this man about a year when 
 I made the acquaintance of the daughter of a neighbour¬ 
 ing ryot named Anund. As there were two unmarried 
 girls in the village of the same name my enamorata was 
 called fair Anund, to distinguish her from the other Anund 
 who was of a darker complexion. I grew to be passion¬ 
 ately fond of the girl and intended to make her my wife. 
 In this, however, I was disappointed. The fame of her 
 beauty reached the ears of “ Dick Sahib.” He crossed 
 my path and robbed me of my jewel. A deep and deadly 
 hatred of the Englishman entered my heart and I swore 
 by the holy prophet to exact a terrible revenge. An op¬ 
 portunity offered in the frequent quarrels and incessant 
 war carried on between the managers of the two factories 
 and their respective retainers, I spread a report to the 
 effect that “ Dick Sahib ” was making overtures to my 
 master’s mistress through one of his minions. This report 
 insidiously circulated soon reached the ears of Mr. Young. 
 I was questioned on the matter and with apparent reluc¬ 
 tance admitted that one of “ Dick Sahib’s ” servants had 
 endeavoured to bribe me into aiding and abetting the 
 intrigue by a promise of higher wages and superior ser¬ 
 vice. My master’s “ dander ” was up at once. This con¬ 
 versation took place in the forenoon. By sundown Young 
 
26 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 had all his retainers mustered in the factory compound 
 armed with spears and laities . Shortly afterwards Young 
 appeared himself, mounted on a fine chestnut horse, and 
 placing himself at the head of his men bore down on the 
 Apooree Factory. 
 
 Dick Sahib had just returned from an inspecton of his 
 crops and was seated smoking in the verandah of his re¬ 
 sidence with fair Anund at his feet, when Young’s band 
 of “ free lances ” broke through the fence which surround¬ 
 ed the house and rushed into the compound. 
 
 Though the surprise was quite unexpected, Dick jumped 
 up to meet his assailants and struggled desperately with 
 his foes, while fair Anund flung her arms round him 
 shrieking aloud for mercy ! Mad with jealousy and burn¬ 
 ing for revenge, I discharged my lance at the pair. It 
 missed the man, but struck the woman on the forehead, 
 inflicting a ghastly wound, and she fell to the ground in¬ 
 sensible. Dick was then overpowered by superior numbers 
 and dragged from the house in the midst of a shower of 
 blows from bamboos and bludgeons. When clear of the 
 compound he was laid down for the purpose of having his 
 legs tied preparatory to removing him to the Katlamaree 
 Factory. He was groaning and moaning dreadfully. 
 Having secured him with ropes two men got hold of his legs 
 and two by the arms and bore him away in triumph, his body 
 swinging in an arc between them. Young rode at the head 
 of the procession and encouraged his men in this act of vil¬ 
 lainy. It was a bright moonlight night and the surrounding 
 landscape was bathed in silver spangles, but we had no 
 eye then for the beauties of nature. We were too intent 
 on a deed of darkness to notice anything else besides. The 
 light, however, which we disregarded, enabled a couple of 
 startled cowherds, and a cultivator who had been guarding 
 
THE CHIEF’S STORY. 
 
 27 
 
 his crops, to watch our proceedings. Suspecting that 
 some deed of violence was being perpetrated, they silently 
 crept up as close to the procession as they could, with due 
 regard to their own safety. Concealing themselves in the 
 shadow of a rude embankment these men silently wit¬ 
 nessed all that was going on. A servant in the employ of 
 the victim also followed our party at a respectful distance, 
 determined to see, to the hitter end, the fate of his master. 
 
 Watched and followed thus, Young and his men carried 
 their victim, shouting as they proceeded. “ Hurry bol! 
 hurry bol ! Sheeb sunker, hurry bol! ” (literally “ shout 
 Sheet) Sunker hurry,” the name of a Hindoo idol—an 
 exclamation of triumph) “ the breath has left the body of 
 Dick Sahib. ” Arriving at the door of Young’s tent, he 
 was then living in a tent pitched in the factory compound 
 as his house was under repairs, Dick was thrown down on 
 the ground and belaboured a second time with iron bound 
 latties. He uttered not a word. My plot of revenge was 
 nearing its consummation. I determined to add the last 
 straw that breaks the camel’s back. I jumped on the 
 chest of my enemy and stamped and trampled on his breast 
 till his tongue was forced an inch beyond his teeth. At 
 this time Young had gone to bring the branding irons, 
 and on his return I said to him:—“ Sahib, it is now use¬ 
 less. Dick is dead.” “ Great God ” exclaimed Young, 
 throwing down the branding irons ; “ what’s to be done ? ’, 
 “ Send the people away,” replied I; “the body must be 
 disposed of.” Accordingly the body was brought into the 
 tent and the people about dispersed to their homes. When 
 all was quiet and the night far advanced, we carried the 
 body of our victim to a nullah some distance from the 
 f actory intending to bury it. But finding a dead horse near 
 the spot changed our minds, and after disembowelling the 
 
28 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 animal, stowed away the corpse in the body of the horse. 
 As it was lying in a hollow we had only to cover it over 
 with earth to conceal it from view. This done, Yonng 
 returned to his tent and I to the factory. The following 
 morning we were told that Dick Sahib’s servants were 
 searching for their master all night. Fair Anund had re¬ 
 covered her senses and got her wound dressed. She then 
 started in company of one of Dick’s retainers, for the 
 Keshubnuggur Factory, for the purpose of reporting to 
 the proprietor of the Apooree Estate, Thomas Sahib, 
 what had occurred. The atter, on hearing the particulars 
 of the outrage, rode over at once to the Apooree Concern, 
 and after making some preliminary enquiries, informed 
 the Magistrate of the district. A searching enquiry was 
 then instituted. The Magistrate went in person to the 
 Katlamaree Factory and questioned Young’s servants. 
 He might just as well have stayed at home. For Young’s 
 retainers would just as soon have thought of declaring 
 war against the Government of India as of placing them¬ 
 selves in a position of hostility to their terrible and 
 dreaded master by revealing what took place. The Ma¬ 
 gistrate had therefore to depend on his own judgment, 
 tact, and experience of the native character, in his efforts 
 to solve the mystery in connection with the disappearance 
 of Dick Sahib. The knowledge that there were arrayed 
 against him all the craft, duplicity and devices of a very ( 
 unscrupulous man, backed by the natural cunning of his 
 Bengalee accomplices, was not very encouraging or hope¬ 
 ful to the enquiring officer. The case, however, had now 
 made a great noise in the district and every effort was 
 made to unearth the victim. The jungle for miles around 
 was searched by a large body of police, tanks were 
 dragged and fresh ploughed land was probed, but without 
 
THE CHIEF’S STORY. 
 
 29 
 
 success so far. At last tlie police stumbled on tlie spot 
 where the carcass of the horse had been buried. The 
 ground appeared to have been recently disturbed and a 
 party of constables were ordered to explore the spot. 
 They had not proceeded more than a cubit below the sur¬ 
 face, when a dreadful stench assailed their olfactory 
 nerves. Inspired by the promise of success which this 
 offered, they redoubled their exertions, and at last one of 
 the constables brought up a piece of red hair on the edge 
 of his Jchodal. There was a shout of triumph, as Dick 
 Sahib had red hair, but their tune was soon changed. On 
 proceeding a little further they discovered that the red 
 hair belonged to an animal and not a man ! The carcass 
 of the horse was only partly uncovered when the police in 
 disgust and despair abandoned the search. 
 
 The police now got hold of the cowherds and cultivators 
 who had followed the procession on the night of the mur¬ 
 der, and on their statements Young was arrested. Seeing 
 my master in trouble I deemed it prudent to make myself 
 scarce. It was well I did so, for I was to have been pri¬ 
 soner number two. Young was no sooner deprived of his 
 liberty than all his servants and retainers turned round 
 upon him. They not only told the police all that had 
 occurred, but accused him of committing the very acts of 
 which I was alone guilty. 
 
 While Young was waiting his trial for the murder of 
 Dick Sahib the police, in order to strengthen the case 
 against him, got together a quantity of human bones from 
 which a skeleton was ingeniously constructed. A lock of 
 red human hair was also produced, said to have been taken 
 out of a dent in the skull, probably caused by a blow from 
 a lattie on the night of the murder. The barber who used 
 to shave the unfortunate victim was produced in court to 
 prove the hair belonged to his late master. 
 
30 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 On this evidence Young, being a British born subject, 
 was sent down to the Supreme Court at Calcutta for trial. 
 Here the bones produced by the police were examined by 
 an expert and found to belong partly to a male, and partly 
 to a female subject; the shin bone of a calf being put in 
 to make up the thigh bone of a man ! On this discovery 
 Young was acquitted, by a jury of his countrymen. The 
 darogah in charge of the case and some of the native wit¬ 
 nesses were tried on a charge of fabricating false evidence, 
 convicted and sent to the Andamans ; while I, who was 
 not only the instigator of the outrage, but the real mur¬ 
 derer of “ Dick Sahib,” my hated rival, escaped not only 
 punishment, but even suspicion. 
 
 So here I am to-day the chief of as brave a band of 
 dacoits as ever looted a village or tightened a thumb 
 
 screw. 
 
PEEK KHAN’S STOKY. 
 
 31 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 «* 
 
 PEER KHAN’S STORY. 
 
 The chief having finished his story, called upon his 
 lieutenant, or second- in command, to entertain the com¬ 
 pany with the history of his life before becoming a da- 
 coit; whereupon, very cheerfully, he thus began :— 
 
 “ My name is Peer Khan, son of Shumshur Khan. I am 
 a descendant of an old and respectable Mahomedan family 
 of Oudli. My father and grandfather were officers in the 
 King of Oudh’s service. In fact, all my ancestors for 
 generations back followed the profession of arms. I was 
 a boy of sixteen years of age when the kingdom of Oudb 
 was annexed by the English. At this time my grand¬ 
 father was an old man and had retired from the service. 
 My father, who was still in the prime of life, followed the 
 deposed King into exile. I remained with my people at 
 Lucknow till I was eighteen, and then became a sepoy in 
 the Company’s service. I was serving in the 53rd Native 
 
32 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 Infantry when the Mutiny broke out at Cawnpore. The 
 wing of the regiment to which I was attached occupied 
 the building known as the Old Hospital. When the dis¬ 
 turbance began I went over to the Nana, and after making 
 myself known to him., and expressing a wish to throw in 
 my lot with his, was raised to the rank of captain in the 
 rebel army then forming. On the 3rd of June 1857 the 
 Nana sent for me. I went immediately to his quarters. 
 He was issuing instructions to his staff when I entered. 
 He received me very graciously and after introducing me 
 to the officers present, said:— 4 Peer Khan, you are a 
 descendant of an old and respectable family. I know 
 your father and grandfather well. I have sent for you 
 on very important business, because I believe I can trust 
 the son of so worthy a father.’ I bowed in acknow¬ 
 ledgment of the compliment and the Nana continued:— 
 ‘ You know most of the English Harrison here, I believe, 
 at least all the principal officers. Is that so P ’ I answer¬ 
 ed in the affirmative. ‘Very good. For the present it 
 will be your special duty to watch the movements of the 
 English, and keep me well informed of all that is going 
 on both within and without the camp. You must not ex¬ 
 pose yourself to any danger, mind, for I do not want to 
 lose your services. I will give you a list of the native 
 servants in the employ of the English, whom we have won 
 over to our side, make good use of them. They can give 
 you valuable information, as General Wheeler, who is a 
 credulous old man, places implicit confidence in their 
 loyalty, and sends them into the city as spies.’ After 
 receiving my instructions I left the Nana and commenced 
 preparations for my new duties. There was a company 
 of Her Majesty’s 48th Regiment on duty in the entrench¬ 
 ed camp, when I went out on the evening of the 4th of 
 
PEER KHAN’S STORT. 
 
 33 
 
 June to take observations. This company marched the 
 following morning for Lucknow and was relieved by an¬ 
 other company of the same regiment. A little after 
 sundown General Wheeler and Captain Moore of the 32nd 
 Regiment, accompanied by several other officers, came 
 down to the entrenched camp. The men on duty in the 
 trenches w T ere ordered to fall in for fatigue duty. A little 
 later on I saw the party carrying chairs, boxes, tables, 
 cots, hogsheads of beer and porter and place them round 
 the two bungalows occupied by the women and children. 
 This done, the General ordered a gun to be fired at 
 midnight to alarm the garrison. This was the signal for 
 a general muster, and parties were told off to guard 
 various points. An order was then issued that all who 
 sought admittance to the garrison were to be allowed in, 
 but none to be allowed out. I was at first a little discon¬ 
 certed on hearing this news. For some of my spies were 
 then inside the English lines. An hour afterwards, how¬ 
 ever, I was delighted to see a number of natives issuing 
 from the camp, and amongst them the men I was anxious- 
 about. They told me that the sentry had stopped them, 
 but on going to the General and representing that they 
 wanted to go out to see their wives and families were 
 permitted to do so, the General himself coming down to 
 the sentry to pass them out. There were amongst the 
 number some twenty Jullindars, who, on passing through 
 the cavalry lines, took possession of a horse each, which 
 they made over to the Nana’s men on reaching the rebel 
 camp. This was made the occasion for great cheering 
 amongst the sepoys. 
 
 After the cheering had subsided, I noticed that all the 
 sentinels outside the English garrison were drawn in and 
 the General ordered the artillery to fire into the rebel 
 
34 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 camp. Which was done, and warmly responded to on the 
 other side. The Commissariat stores were soon demo¬ 
 lished and the garrison left without provisions. I noticed 
 also that the only well from which a supply of water 
 could be obtained was outside the lines and could only 
 be approached at the risk of life. The English garrison 
 were consequently soon reduced to starvation point. 
 Dead horseflesh was actually served out to men, women 
 and children as rations. 
 
 On the 27th of June a woman with two children at¬ 
 tempted to escape from the famished garrison. They were 
 discovered and brought to the Nana by our sepoys. The 
 woman told the Nana to what straits the garrison was 
 reduced for want of food, water, and ammunition. The 
 Nana then wrote a letter to General Wheeler and made 
 the woman carry it back to camp, keeping the two chil¬ 
 dren till she returned with a reply. The letter ran as 
 follows :—General Wheeler. I know your provisions and 
 ammunition must be nearly exhausted. I do not want to 
 injure the ladies and children, if you can make up your 
 mind to surrender at discretion. I await your reply ?’ 
 After the General had read the letter he went round the 
 parapet and conversed with his soldiers. He was crying 
 at the time for the loss of his son who had a few minutes 
 previously been killed by a cannon ball. It burst through 
 the wall of the bungalow where the General and his fami¬ 
 ly had been seated conversing and struck the boy. 
 
 ‘ It is not for my own life I care one fig ’ said the old Gene¬ 
 ral, the tears rolling down his cheeks as big as peas, ‘ but 
 the fate of the brave men and helpless women and children 
 who look up to me for direction and guidance that exer¬ 
 cise my thoughts. Here I am weak as a woman’s tear.’ 
 Then arose a murmUr of sympathy from the trenches for 
 
PEER KHAN’S STORY. 
 
 35 
 
 the kind-hearted old General, and a hundred voices cried, 
 ‘ No surrender!’ on such terms as the Nana had offered. A 
 reply to this effect was despatched to the Nana. Towards 
 evening another letter was received from the Nana modify¬ 
 ing the terms of surrender. These were agreed to. Ar¬ 
 rangements were then made to send four officers to a place 
 appointed by the Nana to sign the treaty. A tent was pit¬ 
 ched for the purpose about four hundred yards from the en¬ 
 trenched camp. The terms of the treaty ran as follows:— 
 —‘ That all the European garrison, men, women and child¬ 
 ren, with the exception of any officer, soldier or civilian, 
 who served under Lord Dalhousie’s government, should 
 be sent in safety by boat to Allahabad on General Wheeler 
 making over to the Nana all the treasure, and munitions of 
 war at his disposal ’. 
 
 It turned out that there was only one man in the garri¬ 
 son who had served under Lord Dalhousie and he was 
 at the time down with small-pox ; so no notice was taken 
 of him. 
 
 That evening it was notified in orders that two officers 
 would proceed to the river and make all necessary arrange¬ 
 ments for the journey by boat to Allahabad. The officers 
 detailed for this duty were Captain Whitney of the 
 Artillery and Captain Turner of the Infantry. These 
 officers were permitted to perform their duty and 
 return to garrison without molestation. That evening 
 all hands were warned to be ready to march to the 
 ghat at daylight the next day under an escort fur¬ 
 nished by the Nana. In the meantime the mutineers had 
 instructions to get the guns into position on the bank of 
 the river opposite to where the British would embark, 
 but under cover, so that they would not be noticed until 
 the time for action arrived. When all was ready the 
 
36 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 garrison received orders to start. The escort consisted 
 of six troops of cavalry and two regiments of infantry, 
 about two thousand six hundred men all told. On the 
 way to the ghat the Nana gave me the names of certain 
 ladies, amongst them the daughter of General Wheeler, 
 with instructions to detain them on the bank till after 
 all the others had embarked. This was to be done 
 under pretence that a covered boat had been provided for 
 them, and was expected to arrive every moment. The 
 Nana’s object was to get all the men and officers on 
 board the boats, open fire upon them and when completely 
 annihilated appropriate the ladies. But our ignorance 
 of English etiquette frustrated the Nana’s plans. The 
 officers refused to enter the boats until the ladies were 
 first provided with accommodation. So after waiting 
 for some time, and finding no covered boat for the ladies 
 arrive, they were put into open boats and followed by the 
 officers. The signal was then given for the guns to open fire 
 on the boats. This was done. Twelve guns charged with 
 grape and cannister belched forth death and destruction. 
 The firing was kept up as fast as the guns could be load¬ 
 ed and discharged ; the scene on the river beggars de¬ 
 scription ! Some of the boats caught fire and men, women 
 and children jumped over overboard and were picked off 
 by the infantry on shore. The river for miles was red 
 with the blood of the victims. In the smoke, noise, and con¬ 
 fusion, two of the boats drifted down the river with the 
 current unnoticed. A party of sepoys was told off to 
 follow them, with strict orders that none ■were to escape. 
 When the sepoys came up with the boats, all the English¬ 
 men wdio could swim took to the water. The boats soon 
 after stranded on a sandbank and those who remained in 
 them were soon dispatched. The men who took to the 
 
PEER KHAN’S STORY. 
 
 37 
 
 river, about twenty-five or thirty in number, however, 
 gave a lot of trouble. They were followed for days and 
 three or four actually succeeded in making good their 
 escape. The remainder were either shot or devoured by 
 crocodiles. 
 
 The men who took to the water stripped and left their 
 clothes behind them in the boats. From the clothes we 
 were able to ascertain the names of a few of the men who 
 endeavoured to escape by swimming. These were Captain 
 Whitney, Lieutenants Fagan, Thompson, and De’Lafosse, 
 Corporal O’Keefe, Gunner Sullivan and W. Murphy. 
 
 The Kana was told, and believed, that every man, 
 woman and child of the English garrison were accounted 
 for. 
 
 That night there was a terrible row in camp amongst 
 the sepoys and sowars over the loot taken from the 
 victims. 
 
 The Kana wa§ in a terrible rage when he heard 
 that the stratagem for saving the ladies failed. I was 
 blamed for mismanaging the whole affair and put under 
 arrest. 
 
 The day after the slaughter of the English garrison 
 news was brought to the Kana that a European lady and 
 gentleman—supposed to be the Deputy Commissioner 
 and his wife—the latter a very handsome woman—had 
 rode in from the interior of the district in hopes of meet¬ 
 ing General Wheeler. But on hearing the fate of the 
 English garrison had taken shelter in a house in the city 
 where they intended to remain till nightfall when they 
 would slip quietly away. The Kana sent for me and 
 •said, 4 Look here, Peer Khan, you made a terrible muddle 
 yesterday of the business I intrusted you with. There is 
 a chance now of your recovering your character and 
 
38 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 freedom. I have just been informed that a European 
 lady and gentleman have taken shelter in a house in the 
 city that will he pointed out to you. Take a company of 
 sepoys and a troop of sowars with you and bring in the 
 fugitives alive and you are restored to my favour and 
 your post again.’ I promised to do my best and left the 
 Nana to make the necessary preparations. When all was 
 ready I started for the house indicated by the informer. 
 On nearing the place I halted the troops for fear of 
 exciting alarm and proceeded alone to the house. The 
 gentleman, after some little delay, consented to see me. 
 I told him that the Nana had heard of his arrival and 
 desired an interview. He left me saying he would con¬ 
 sult with his wife and then give me a reply. He was 
 absent nearly half an hour. When he returned he told 
 me that after talking the matter over with his wife they 
 had decided not to see the Nana. I saw persuasion would 
 be of no use, so ordered up the troops and surrounded the 
 house. This show of force only made the Englishman 
 more obstinate. He placed himself at the head of a narrow 
 staircase, and coolly told me that he defied the Nana and 
 all the forces at his command. Nettled at this insolence I 
 ordered a dozen of men to mount the stairs and secure 
 him. A rush was made for the purpose. The English¬ 
 man fired half a dozen of shots in quick succession and the 
 narrow passage was blocked with dead bodies. I then 
 called off my men, and after consulting with • a brother 
 officer, decided upon setting fire to the building. 4 This ’ I 
 remarked, ‘ will place the lady’s life in jeopardy and make 
 the saucy Englishman yield. I then gave orders for the 
 sepoys to fill the lower room with straw from the compound. 
 Immediately the gentleman saw our intentions he turned 
 to his wife, and after a passionate embrace shot her through 
 
PEER. KHAN’S STORY. 
 
 39 
 
 the heart, then drawing his sword he jumped down the 
 stairs at a single hound and before my men had time to re¬ 
 cover from their surprise, a dozen of them lay prostrate on 
 the floor. The Englishman was ultimately shot, hut his 
 death cost us twenty-five lives. I determined, however, 
 to carry out my purpose of setting the house on fire and to 
 tell the Nana that I was forced on to this measure owing 
 to the obstinacy of the Englishman, and the danger and 
 difficulty of approaching him, owing to the narrow staircase. 
 Before setting the match, however, I went upstairs to 
 where his wife lay dead on the floor. There was a small 
 hand bag by the side of the body which I opened and found 
 to contain gold mohurs, and valuable ornaments. These 
 I appropriated. I also stripped the body of all the 
 trinkets I could find, including a gold watch and chain. 
 With this property in my possession, and knowing the recep¬ 
 tion I was likely to receive from the Nana when he heard 
 the expedition had failed, I determined to make for my 
 home and people at Lucknow. I consequently ordered the 
 senior officer to march the troops back to their lines and 
 I would stay and see the dead disposed of before making 
 my report to the Nana. The moment the troops had dis¬ 
 appeared, I disguised myself as a religious mendicant and 
 started for Lucknow. When I came in view of the city 
 it only wanted an hour of sunrise. Here I was challenged 
 by a picket that was located in a mangoe tope. I told the 
 sentry I was a religious mendicant. He said that the rate 
 at which I was getting over the ground and my general 
 appearance belied my calling, and I was taken to the naik 
 in charge on suspicion of being a spy. On searching my 
 person for letters, the money and jewellery were found. 
 I told the naik I was the servant of a European who 
 escaped to Allahabad, leaving his house and property. 
 
40 
 
 KNAVERY" UNMASKED. 
 
 And that I helped myself to the money and articles found 
 in my wallets. After a short consultation with the men 
 of the picket, the naik proposed that I should either he 
 taken to the officer in command or share the booty equally 
 with the picket, and say nothing about the matter. I con¬ 
 sented to the latter alternative, well knowing that if I 
 was taken to the officer in command I would not only lose 
 all, but possibly get into trouble also. The picket con¬ 
 sisted of twelve men and the naik, which, including my¬ 
 self, made fourteen. I consequently left the mangoe tope 
 with only one-fourteenth of the property I had when I 
 started. My family resided between the Yellow Bungalow 
 and the Fort so I made straight for the spot. Guess my 
 surprise when I found the house levelled to the ground 
 and my people gone ! No one could give me any infor¬ 
 mation of what had become of them. So I wandered about 
 till my money was all spent. Afraid to enter territory 
 where the English Raj still held sway or meet a regiment 
 or company of mutineers in case I were recognised. In 
 this dilemma I was driven to join a band of dacoits ” ! 
 
 Note.— We trust the lesson that this chapter teaches ivill 
 not he thrown away upon Englishmen in India . Had every 
 man of General Wheelers little.hand acted as the civilian 
 did , what a different account history would have had to record 
 of the Gawnpore Mutiny ! 
 
 The author of these stories was employed some ten years 
 after the Gawnpore massacre in collecting evidence in connec¬ 
 tion with the State trials at Allahabad. He had therefore an 
 opportunity of picking up facts and gaining information that 
 were not available when the History of the Indian Mutiny 
 was written. 
 
THE PATHAN’s STORY 
 
 41 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE PATHAH’S STORY. 
 
 Peer Khan having finished his very interesting story, 
 which delighted the company exceedingly, the chief next 
 called upon Shahzada Mir to continue their entertaining 
 pastime by a relation of his antecedents before becoming 
 a dacoit. Accordingly Shahzada Mir, thus appealed to, 
 immediately began to speak in this manner: 
 
 I am a Pathan by birth, breeding, and caste. I follow 
 in the footsteps of my ancestors, read the Koran, honour 
 the Prophet and pray for the extermination of the infidel. 
 I do not wash my face once in a month nor my body in a 
 lifetime; my head has never known a comb, and my 
 sheepskin is as old as Mathusala. Ho savage half human 
 is so dirty, and none so shameless in vice. Love, affection, 
 and humanity are feelings unknown to me. Plunder and 
 blood exercise my thoughts by day and my dreams by 
 night. The moment I was able to comprehend, my mother 
 
42 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 *U 
 
 taught nie what families I was to hate, and before I had 
 reached my teens, my father taught me how to kill. My 
 experience of life has been one continued death struggle of 
 tribe against central authority, feud of clan with clan, 
 village with village, family with family, and brother with 
 brother. In half the hamlets around me there was a per¬ 
 petual blood score always open, and amongst my own 
 neighbours a private reckoning to settle. And when there 
 is no one else to quarrel with, friends and relations will 
 quarrel amongst themselves, and disagreements of this 
 kind amongst Pathans means bloodshed. Other races may 
 be blood-thirsty and treacherous, but they have some re¬ 
 gard for their own people. The Pathan when angered 
 would as soon kill a brother as a stranger. What wonder 
 then that generations of such existence has brutalised my 
 people! We can only boast of one single virtue—hospi¬ 
 tality. Fickle we are as a race, I admit; untrustworthy, 
 prone to shed blood for small injuries, constitutionally 
 blind to the rights of property; dead alike to the beauty 
 of virtue and the deformity of vice. I do not believe that 
 the world’s history can show a record of a state of things 
 such as prevail, as common and everyday occurrences, in 
 sman of my tribe that has 
 lived to see his thirtieth birthday. I never had a male 
 relative who died in his bed. In Afghanistan no hill man 
 pays the slightest attention to an order issued by his 
 chief unless it is enforced by arms or fits in with his own 
 inclination. In his immediate district a Pathan prince 
 may secure obedience by force, but beyond a day’s march 
 from his castle any clansman will resist his authority if 
 he thinks fit. His commands are weighed and criticised 
 and if disapproved, treated with contempt. 
 
 ISTow that you have had an insight into my early his- 
 
THE PATHAN’S STORY. 
 
 43 
 
 tory and youthful surroundings, the circumstances under 
 which I have been, “not made , but moulded ” you will 
 not be surprised at what is to follow. 
 
 In the early Spring of 1841 an English army invaded 
 Afghanistan. I was a young man, scarcely eighteen at 
 the time, but strong and active. The news of an invad¬ 
 ing army filled all our hearts with delight. It promised 
 plenty of excitement and lots of loot. We had no inten¬ 
 tion of joining the fighting ranks of either side or taking 
 any part in the impending struggle. Soldiering don’t 
 pay, at least in Afghanistan. Our intention was to fol¬ 
 low the invading army, at a respectful distance, pick off 
 stragglers, just for the fun of the thing, and watch an 
 opportunity to “ loot ” the baggage and transport animals. 
 This we called the profitable part of the enterprise. 
 
 In order not to lose an opportunity of making hay while 
 the sun shone, w*e met the advancing army at the head 
 of the Bolan Pass. The force consisted of English in¬ 
 fantry, European artillery and native cavalry, about ten 
 thousand men all told including camp followers. The 
 string of baggage camels extended from Dadur, at the 
 foot of the Bolan Pass, to the plains of Quetta. Didn’t 
 the sight make our mouth water! The whole force en¬ 
 camped on the Quetta plain, one of the most lovely 
 spots on earth without exaggeration. It is six thousand 
 feet above the level of the sea. It is covered with ver¬ 
 dure of the brightest and most varied kind^ The ground 
 is not flat, but mostly undulating. Irrigation, both in 
 the form of natural rivulets and small artificial canals, 
 is plentiful. Green grass, corn, fruit trees of all kinds, 
 and magnificent vineyards are abundant. The entire 
 plain—some twelve miles long by eight broad—is sur¬ 
 rounded by high hills, crowned with perpetual snow. 
 
44 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 The climate is delightful, the natural beauty of the 
 scenery enchanting. To crown all, what with the spread 
 of canvas, the long lines of horses picketed in the dis¬ 
 tance, the circles of camels, the mountains of commissariat 
 stores, the camp fires and the life and activity of the 
 camp itself, viewed from the neighbouring hill on which 
 we had established a point of observation put me in mind 
 of an Eastern fairy tale. But a Pathan has no eye for 
 the beauties of nature or art “ when on marauding bent.” 
 We soon learnt that the troops would remain at Quetta 
 for some months, as the affairs at Cabul were not then 
 ripe for action. So we held a council of war, the result 
 of which was an unanimous decision to commence opera¬ 
 tions at once. An opportunity was not long in present¬ 
 ing itself. The troops having received orders that they 
 were to stand fast for an indefinite period, set about mak¬ 
 ing themselves as comfortable as possible. Heavy baggage 
 was unpacked, messes were formed, and a round of din¬ 
 ner parties inaugurated amongst the officers of the dif¬ 
 ferent regiments. It was during one of these dinner 
 parties we made our first raid on the camp. The officers 
 of the British infantry had invited the officers of all the 
 other regiments to a hurra hhana , and while they were 
 enjoying themselves we looted their tents of every article 
 of value, including rifles, revolvers and ammunition. On 
 returning through the troop lines each man mounted a 
 horse and road away to our mountain rendezvous. We 
 had, of course, to get the sentry out of the way. This is 
 how we managed. One of our party—a man with a 
 smooth face and short of stature was dressed up as a wo¬ 
 man, and sent on in advance. On coming up to the sentry 
 —a sepoy—she pretended to have lost her w r ay and asked 
 the man to put her right. The sentry enquired what she 
 
THE PATHAN’s STORY. 
 
 27 46 
 
 was doing in camp so late at night. She explained that 
 she had come in the evening to sell fruit the officers’ 
 hurra khana , and the messman not having money to pay 
 her she was detained till after dark, waiting for the re* 
 turn of the mess secretary. That she had been wandering 
 about ever since trying to find the road that led to her 
 village, but without success. So after some further con- 
 versation the sentry undertook to put her right if she 
 consented to certain proposals which he made to her. 
 She simulated to be shocked at the sentry’s proposal, but 
 expressed herself in such a way as to encourage the 
 man to persist. At last yielding, with some show of 
 reluctance, to his solicitations, she drew him aw~ay, from 
 the camp towards a nullah, to avoid, as she explained, 
 being surprised by some straggler about the lines. The 
 moment the sepoy entered the nullah two of our men 
 sprang up and knifed him before he could utter an exclama¬ 
 tion of surprise. We then secured his rifle and ammuni¬ 
 tion. 
 
 The next morning there was terrible commotion in 
 camp. A sentry murdered and all the officers’ tents on the 
 west side of the lines completely gutted! The General 
 issued orders that the sentries were, in future, to be 
 doubled. This was done. But we were equal to the 
 occasion. We doubled the attraction and sent two men 
 disguised as women instead of one to draw off: the sen- 
 tries. There was no necessity to change our tactics for 
 no man ever returned alive to disclose the secret of how 
 he was lured off his beat. The courts of enquiry ordered 
 to investigate the matter came to the conclusion that the 
 sentries must have been caught napping, and murdered 
 on their post, and afterwards the bodies thrown into the 
 nullah where they were discovered. The motive for the 
 
46 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 murder was believed to be the sentries' rifles and am¬ 
 munition which were always found missing. 
 
 These raids went on periodically during the whole time 
 the troops were encamped on the Quetta plain without 
 ever one of our men coming to grief. Occasionally an 
 unfortunate villager of the neighbourhood found near 
 the camp under suspicious circumstances was arrested 
 and strung up. But the Military authorities never even 
 suspected how “ the thing was really done.” In fact, the 
 General in command, in official despatches, remarked: 
 “We had been terribly harrassed by marauders ever since 
 we entered Afghanistan. Scarcely a night passed that 
 some one, either European or Hindoostanee sepoy, were 
 not foully murdered. Yet, notwithstanding the fact that 
 a large number of Afghans had been caught and executed 
 for these offences—the punishment did not seem to have 
 had the slightest effect in deterring others from following 
 the example of those who suffered the extreme penalty 
 of the law. This is all the more remarkable as the Af¬ 
 ghans, like all other Oriental races, regard hanging with 
 greater horror than any other kind of death.” Here is 
 where the mistake was made. The real offenders were 
 never caught or punished. The following is an example 
 of how things were managed. In spite of very stringent 
 orders to the contrary, a party of English soldiers consist¬ 
 ing of two gunners and four men of the Fortieth Regiment 
 left camp on an exploring expedition to the surrounding 
 hills. The gunners had their carbines with them and the 
 infantry their rifles. We saw them from a distance and 
 lay in ambush until they approached within a few feet 
 of our hiding place; then sprang up, and knifed them 
 before they knew where they were. We took possession 
 of their rifles and retired from the spot. The men were 
 
47 
 
 THE PATHAN’S STORY. 
 
 not missed till evening roll call; and early next morning 
 a party of native cavalry was sent to look for them. Their 
 bodies were found on the hill side, about six miles from 
 camp. Their heads had been cut off and placed on poles 
 about ten feet high, and their bodies frightfully mutilated. 
 When the cavalry arrived upon the scene of the butchery, 
 some half dozen of hill men had collected to view the 
 ghastly sight. But on the approach of the troops bolted 
 They were pursued, overtaken, and brought into camp. 
 The men strongly protested that they knew nothing about 
 the murders and had only come upon the scene accidently. 
 But the fact of their running away at the sight of the 
 approaching cavalry, though they had not the arms of 
 the victims in their possession, was considered proof posi¬ 
 tive of their guilt, and the whole six were strung up like 
 herrings for the offence, and justice was satisfied. 
 
 This kind of thing went on till the month of Septem¬ 
 ber 1841, when rumours of the critical state of affairs at 
 Cabul reached Quetta. The troops were ordered to move 
 at once on Candahar. But the storm which was then 
 threatening did not burst over Cabul till a month or two 
 afterwards. Nevertheless all intercourse between Cabul 
 and Candahar was now at an end. 
 
 Here we were joined by fresh bands of mounted 
 marauders, which enabled us to interrupt for a time, all 
 communication between the two cities while we plundered 
 everything we could lay our hands upon. General Nott 
 was in command at Candahar and Major Rawlinson, 
 Political Agent; two more able men or two men better 
 acquainted with the country could not have been found, 
 nevertheless we completely baffled their efforts to re-open 
 anything like safe intercourse between Cabul and Can¬ 
 dahar. 
 
48 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 XEarly in November a rumour got abroad that Guznee, 
 which had been garrisoned by the Twenty-seventh Re¬ 
 giment Bengal Native Infantry had been recaptured 
 by the Afghans, and that the troops which had formed 
 the garrison were prisoners. A few days later the news of 
 the murder of Sir Alexander Burns was received. Then 
 we heard that the whole of northern Afghanistan was 
 up in arms and that Sir William Macnaughten had been 
 murdered by Akbar Khan. These rumours produced the 
 greatest excitement and consternation amongst the troops 
 at Candahar. It soon became apparent to General Nott 
 and his officers that the final issue of the war depended 
 upon the Candahar brigade holding out and getting ready 
 when the winter had passed away to advance upon CabuL 
 But we made it extremely hot for the garrison. Every 
 night regularly we fired upon the sentries. The troops 
 were turned out and kept under arms the whole night. 
 In this way we tried to harrass their life out, for the 
 winter Was a very severe one. Christmas night was 
 specially selected for a brisk attack upon the garrison. 
 We had heard that the officers of the different regi¬ 
 ments were to dine together, and the rank and file of the 
 English regiments would most probably be “ enjoying them¬ 
 selves.” So about nine o’clock we commenced to fire on 
 the sentries and advanced guards so briskly that they 
 were obliged to retire. The whole garrison was obliged 
 to turn out and remain under arms till daylight. As time 
 went on we became bolder and bolder. Some of our lead¬ 
 ers actually went so far as to advise General Nott and 
 Major Rawlinson to retire back to British India or they 
 would share the fate of Sir William Macnaughten. But 
 both these officers stood firm, and said they and the troops 
 under them would die at their posts before they would 
 
THE pathan’s story. 49 
 
 attempt to retire. Such, was the state of affairs at Canda- 
 har up till the early part of February. A change now took 
 place. Reinforcements despatched from Dadur had open¬ 
 ed up communication with Candahar. News was receiv¬ 
 ed of General Pollock having arrived at Peshawur; of the 
 advance of his force to Jamrud; of his occupation of 
 Jellalabad; and the other steps taken before his final 
 march upon Cabul. All this time the officials at Canda¬ 
 har were busy collecting stores and transport animals. 
 This was by no means an easy task. For the Afghans 
 do not cultivate a blade of grass or a sheaf of corn more 
 than they want for their own actual use. Each village is 
 in itself a small fort, which can be, and often is, defended 
 against even the foraging parties of the central authority. 
 The peasants of each village possess the land in common : 
 it is their own, and they cultivate it for their own use. A 
 male villager never leaves the ramparts of his own village 
 without being armed. The very man who guides the lean 
 pair of oxen that draw his broken down plough has a 
 loaded matchlock slung over his shoulder. The enemies 
 the Afghan fears most are his own chiefs and the officials 
 of his own Government. If a villager cultivated more 
 than he actually required for his own use it would only 
 be labour thrown away. The cultivators have no rents 
 to pay. They have no trade out of them own villages. 
 The cloth they wear is woven by their own women, and 
 the sheepskin cloaks, which serve to protect them from 
 the Winter’s cold, are cured and prepared by the same 
 hands. As to their taxes, the amount they pay very 
 much depends upon themselves. If they are strong and 
 can show fight they will be let off easily. If otherwise, 
 they will be ground down to the utmost and squeezed, out 
 of all they possess. 
 
 4 
 
50 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 It was under these conditions that General ISTott had to 
 collect supplies for a large army. A foraging party con¬ 
 sisting of a squadron of cavalry, with sufficient transport 
 animals to bring in whatever could be purchased from the 
 villages, and an officer with a bag of rupees, was told off 
 daily to collect supplies. Here was a chance never open 
 to us before. Hitherto we had only been able to loot 
 arms, ammunition, stores and transport animals. How 
 there was some prospect of enriching ourselves with hard 
 cash and we determined to take advantage of the oppor¬ 
 tunity. When the foraging party had got a safe distance 
 away from the main body, we used to divide ourselves 
 into two strong parties, one would lie in ambush on the 
 line of route, while the other would break cover suddenly 
 and make a faint attempt to charge down upon the Eng¬ 
 lish. The officer in command mistaking our intention 
 would wheel his men about to face the approaching enemy, 
 This would be our signal to retire. When the foraging 
 party would give chase, leaving the treasure and trans¬ 
 port animals unprotected, our party in ambush would nov; 
 swoop down upon the camp followers leading the camels. 
 . cut them to pieces, loot the treasure chest and make oh 
 before the return of the escort. 
 
 While our party was thus engaged keeping the mail 
 body in play, another party of marauders did excellenl 
 service in rear of the moving column. The immense 
 train of baggage animals was considerably reduced before 
 Cabul was reached. Thus did we continue to harrass the 
 troops, and enrich ourselves, during the entire march be¬ 
 tween the two cities. 
 
 When the Candahar brigade arrived at Cabnl it was 
 joined by the forces under General Pollock. We eoulc 
 then see it was all “ up ” with the Afghans. Pollock’s 
 
THE PATHAN’S STORY. 
 
 51 
 
 brigade was composed of seasoned English Regiments 
 both cavalry and infantry. The troops remained in 
 Cabnl until the 12th of October, and then commenced to 
 march, by brigades, towards Gundamuk and the Khyber 
 Pass en route to British India. A few days before leav¬ 
 ing, however, General Pollock ordered the great bazar of 
 Cabul to be destroyed in revenge for the murder of Sir 
 Alexander Burns and Sir William Macnaughten, as well 
 as for the two regiments that were betrayed and slaugh¬ 
 tered in the city a few months before. 
 
 The burning of the bazaar was our last grand scramble 
 for loot. We waylaid the rich merchants fleeing from 
 the city with all their portable property and eased them 
 of every stick. 
 
 After this we prepared to return to our homes laden, 
 as we were with the spoils, both of the conquerors and 
 conquered ! In fact we were the only party who benefit¬ 
 ed by the war. But unfortunately we did not long enjoy 
 the fuits of our honest industry. We quarrelled amongst 
 ourselves over the division of the spoil and while engaged 
 cutting one another’s throats, some neighbouring chiefs 
 walked in and eased us of all we possessed. In the 
 general scramble I murdered a chief who was very popu¬ 
 lar amongst the Pathans ^nd was obliged to flee from my 
 country and people and join a band of professional 
 dacoits. 
 
 [ISTote. —General Roberts might get a few hints from 
 the Pathan’s story for the soldier’s pocket-book.] 
 
52 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKRD. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE FAKIR’S STORY. 
 
 Shahzada Mir having concluded his entertaining nar¬ 
 rative, for which he received a hearty round of applause, 
 the chief called upon the fakir for the next story. He 
 began after this manner. 
 
 I am a fakir by profession, and though I took to the 
 trade more from necessity than choice, few of my order 
 in India obtained a higher reputation for asceticism than 
 your humble servant. By a long and steady course of 
 training. I was able to bring my body into a state of sub¬ 
 jection to my will that seemed, even to educated men and 
 philosophers almost supernatural. There was no feat 
 ever heard of as being performed by a fakir that I was not 
 only able to imitate, but improve upon. My name and fame 
 were household words at every native court in India. 
 
THE FAKIR’S STORY. 
 
 53 
 
 Even at Cabul and Kashmir I astonished the durbars. I 
 have demonstrated in my own person the possibility of 
 existing for long periods without food or drink. I have 
 been sealed up in an iron tank, and lived for weeks with¬ 
 out light or atmosphere. I could exist as well under 
 water as above it. I have remained suspended from a 
 pole with a hook through my flesh for days together with¬ 
 out feeling the least discomfort or inconvenience. I have 
 reduced my body from fifty-six seers (1121bs.) to 20 seers 
 (401bs.) in twenty-four hours. I have risen from a six 
 weeks’ fast, which reduced my body to skin and bone, and 
 resumed my normal condition within six hours. I have 
 stopped the circulation of blood in my body, and allowed 
 myself to be bitten by the most deadly poisonous snake 
 in India with perfect impunity. I have had the moisture 
 expelled from my flesh in a slow oven till my skin became 
 like dried parchment. I have been put into a refrigerator 
 and taken out embeded in a block of ice. In fact, I have 
 been subjected to every kind of austerity known to asce¬ 
 tics of my order. 
 
 But the crowning feat of my life was performed at the 
 court of Runjit Sing. Here, in presence of a number of 
 European officers, medical men, and native princes, I was 
 put into a box and buried in a cell, six feet below floor 
 level, for three months. To prevent the chance of decep¬ 
 tion the doors of the cell were not only locked and sealed, 
 but guarded by double sentries composed of Mahomedans 
 and Hindus. I had neither food nor drink all this time. 
 A piece of camphor was put into each corner of the box 
 in which I was buried to keep out ants and other insects. 
 At the expiration of three months the parties who witnessed 
 my interment were summoned to see me exhumed. I was 
 not myself conscious of what took place, but will quote 
 
54 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 from the report of the principal medical officer present: 
 —“ On opening the box we saw a figure enclosed in a bag 
 of white linen fastened by a string over the head. The 
 legs and arms were shrivelled and stiff, the face full and 
 the head reclining on the shoulder like that of a corpse. 
 I could discover no pulsation in the heart, temple or arm ; 
 there was, however, warmth about the region of the brain, 
 which no other part of the body exhibited. A sealed 
 letter containing written instructions for reanimating the 
 body, by the ascetic himself, was found fastened to the 
 linen bag in which the fakir was encased. These instruc¬ 
 tions were religiously followed. Warm water was first 
 poured over the body, the tongue was then drawn out 
 and anointed with clarified butter (ghee) and a hot 
 wheaten cake applied to the crown of the head. On the 
 third application of these remedies the body of the ascetic 
 became virtually convulsed, the rigidity of the limbs 
 relaxed, but the pulsation was still feeble. On ghee being 
 again applied to the tongue, however, the eyeballs became 
 dilated, and recovered their natural colour, the tongue 
 began to move and the muscles of the face to work as if 
 the fakir wanted to speak, but could not get the organs 
 of speech to obey the will. He evidently recognised those 
 around him. More ghee was applied to the tongue and a 
 few moments afterwards the ascetic spoke and intimated 
 that he was glad to meet his old friends again after his 
 long sleep. 
 
 “ I saw the fakir a week or so after his exhumation and 
 he did not appear to have suffered in the least from the 
 effects of his recent acquaintance with the grave. He. 
 was quite willing to repeal the experiment if sufficient 
 inducement had been offered him.” 
 
 Here the doctor is not altogether quite correct. I did 
 
THE FAKIR’S STORY. 
 
 55 
 
 feel the effects of my long sleep for nearly a year after¬ 
 wards, though my outward appearance did not betray the 
 fact to, even, my most intimate acquaintance; and I 
 made a mental resolution never to repeat so dangerous 
 an experiment. At least, if I did consent to he buried 
 again it would only be for short periods. 
 
 My name and fame now began to spread throughout 
 the length and breadth of the land. I was called the 
 “ Fakir ” 'par excellence. The rich made me presents and 
 the poor worshipped me as if I were a demi-Grod. In 
 fact, most people looked upon me as a supernatural 
 being. 
 
 It was at this period of my history I thought of enter¬ 
 taining a disciple, teach him the secrets of my art, and 
 live on his earnings. Accordingly I began to look about 
 for a suitable lad. The difficulty was not in getting 
 volunteers, for hundreds came forward to offer their 
 services, but in selecting a boy absolutely free from 
 disease of any kind. This was a qualification necessary 
 to success in the profession of a fakir. I at last succeed¬ 
 ed in procuring a suitable subject and set about getting 
 the youth into training. He proved an apt pupil and his 
 progress was rapid. In less than five years he was equal 
 to his master and promised to even surpass him. In one 
 particular, and that a most important one, he beat me 
 hollow, namely, in shamming death. He could drop like 
 a log on the floor, suspend the heart’s action, turn up the 
 white of his eyes, and assume the rigidity and pallor of 
 death. In fact, he could sham death so naturally that 
 the cleverest doctors have been deceived by him. Unfor¬ 
 tunately this trick was attended with a certain amount 
 of risk, unless some person was present who knew how to' 
 te store animation. W e thus became necessary to each other 
 
56 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 The most curious incident of my life occurred while 
 we were “ doing ” the Central Provinces. A messenger 
 called upon me one night in a great state of excitment. 
 He said he had been sent by his matter, a wealthy zemin¬ 
 dar, to call me to his place. The matter was urgent and 
 I was wanted at once. I accordingly prepared to accom¬ 
 pany the zemindar’s messenger. My disciple was laid 
 up at the time with a slight attack of dysentery and I 
 would not let him move out at night so I went alone. 
 On arriving at the zemindar’s place everything was in a 
 terrible uproar. The master of the house, in a fit of 
 jealousy, had murdered one of his relations, and in order 
 to destroy all traces of the crime had consumed the body. 
 He knew, he said, that the victim would be missed on 
 the morrow and his absence would lead to enquiry and 
 probably to disagreeable consequences. I was asked to 
 sham death and consent to be buried in the name of the 
 murdered man. I agreed on the promise of a substantial 
 reward. But on the understanding that I would be ex¬ 
 humed after a week and that my disciple was to be 
 immediately informed. When all was ready preparations 
 were made for my interment after the usual Mussulman 
 customs of the country. At the cemetery my body was 
 examined by the registrar in charge to see that it bore no 
 marks of violence. The examination in this respect was 
 satisfactory. Then, after recording the name, age, cause 
 of death, and other particulars required by law the burial 
 party were allowed to proceed with the interment. I had 
 only been in the grave three days when the police got to 
 hear of the murder at the zemindaree. The Magistrate 
 and the D. S. personally went to make enquiries. The 
 zemindar produced a doctor’s certificate to show that the 
 alleged murdered man had died of cholera. And the 
 
THE FAKIR’S STORY. 
 
 57 
 
 records of the cemetery were sent for which proved that 
 the body bore no marks of violence. Notwithstanding 
 this evidence the authorities determined upon having the 
 body exhumed and submitted to a post-mortem examina¬ 
 tion. I was accordingly taken up and carried to the 
 district dead-house under a police guard. Here I was 
 laid out on a table for dissection. I was quite conscious 
 of all that was going on, but could neither move nor 
 speak. I saw the domes getting the instruments cleaned 
 and in order that were to cut me up, and lay then out 
 ready for the doctor when he arrived. Even the jar that 
 was to convey my stomach to the chemical examiner was 
 brought in and put down beside the table on which I was 
 stretched out. I heard the people converse and remark 
 to one another “ How well the body has kept consider¬ 
 ing it has been buried three days. There is actually no 
 smell from it.” To this a native doctor replied “ Oh, 
 that is in consequence of the amount of arsenic adminis¬ 
 tered to the deceased. We believe death was caused from 
 arsenical poisoning.” While this conversation was going 
 on a messenger came to say that the civil surgeon had 
 been called away from the station to attend a serious case 
 in the district and would not be back till the following 
 morning. As the case was a serious one the D. S. would 
 not allow the native doctor to proceed with the post¬ 
 mortem examination in the absence of the civil surgeon. 
 He ordered the dead-house to be locked up and a sentry 
 posted over it. The windows, however, were left open to 
 admit of a current of air passing through the building. 
 Oh the horror of these few hours ! No language can 
 describe my agony of mind! Towards midnight, as I lay 
 brooding over my inevitable fate, I heard a noise as if 
 some one was entering the dead-house by the window- 
 
58 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 The thought struck me that probably it might turn out 
 to be my disciple. I was right. A few minutes after 
 I felt the remedies used for restoring animation being 
 applied to my body. In less than half an hour afterwards 
 I was able to depart with my preserver. We left, as he 
 had entered, through the window at the back of the 
 building without being heard or observed by the sentry. 
 Oh! how happy I felt as we turned our backs on the 
 house of horror! I mentally vowed that I would never 
 sham death or consent to be buried alive again for all the 
 wealth of India! During our flight my companion told 
 me how he had by pure accident discovered my situa¬ 
 tion and the steps he had taken to rescue me from that 
 infernal charnal house. I could have embraced him for 
 his devotion to his old master. But the time and circum¬ 
 stances were not suited to any outward show of inward 
 feeling. I felt w T eak and fatigued and we could not, in 
 consequence, continue our flight beyond a couple of miles 
 from the district head-quarters. 
 
 The next morning there was a terrible commotion on 
 discovering that the body of the supposed murdered man 
 had been removed from the dead-house. The police were 
 supposed to have been bribed by the zemindar to destroy 
 the evidence of his guilt by making away with the 
 corpse. The whole guard were consequently made pri¬ 
 soners, and a large party of police were sent out to scour 
 the neighbourhood in search of the body of the deceased. 
 Every house, every street, eveay mangoe tope, every 
 tamarind grove, every nullah and piece of jungle in the 
 neighbourhood was searched, but in vain. Then the 
 fishermen were turned out with their nets to drag the 
 tanks and rivers, but they were equally unsuccessful. 
 The matter was given up at last as a bad job. Neverthe- 
 
the fakir’s story. 
 
 59 
 
 less we deemed it advisable to get away from ths scene 
 of these investigations as speedily as possible. Accord¬ 
 ingly, as soon as I had : gained sufficient strength to 
 undertake the journey, we left the district, not however 
 before paying the zemindar a private visit and getting 
 our pockets well lined for the road. He was the party 
 most interested in getting us out of the way ; for he 
 knew that so long as the police were unable to produce 
 the body of his victim, he could not be charged with 
 murder, or even accused of causing his disappearance. 
 
 We next turned up in the vicinity of Calcutta. This 
 was an evil day for me, for I found in the city a much 
 cleverer man than myself, not in my own profession, but 
 in the art of detection. 
 
 My mate and I had gone out one afternoon on what we 
 called a money-making expedition. We went to the 
 house of a European gentleman residing in the suburbs. 
 He was unmarried and alone. This we learned from the 
 durwan. We had had also previously ascertained that he 
 was a person of violent temper and had been had up on 
 one or two occasions before the “ beak ” for thrashing his 
 servants. He was therefore considered a likely victim. 
 I sent on my mate to solicit alms and provoke an assault 
 if possible by a show of impertinence and an insolent 
 * demeanour. I remained at the gate of the compound to 
 watch the result. The sahib was seated smoking in the 
 verandah when my disciple approached. “ What do you 
 want here ?” was the sahib's first salute. 
 
 “ I am a religious mendicant, and have come to solicit 
 alms ” was the reply. “ Jao ” said the sahib imperative¬ 
 ly. “ Gfo and work for your living.” 
 
 “ Sahib ” retorted the mendicant with an insolent 
 demeanour, “ religious men like me don’t work. We live 
 
60 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 on charity, and yon should consider it an honour to relieve 
 us.” 
 
 “ You haramzada” exclaimed the sahib , “ if you are 
 not off in a jiffy I’ll give you a sound caning.” 
 
 “ Don’t work yourself into a temper, sahib ” was the 
 cool reply. “ I don’t intend to budge till I get some¬ 
 thing.” 
 
 “ Won’t you ?” said the sahib , and with that he jumped 
 up from his seat, took down a cane walking stick from a 
 rack, and ran at the “ insolent beggar ” as he called him. 
 The mendicant made a feint attempt to escape and in 
 doing so got a cut across the shoulders with the cane. 
 He dropped at once insensible. The sahib was horror- 
 stricken. I ran up, and falling on the body claimed the 
 deceased as my brother. After some show of grief I 
 hinted to the sahib that I would take away the corpse and 
 say nothing about it if I was suitably rewarded. I was 
 then asked what sum would satisfy me as hush money. 
 I replied “ Five hundred rupees.” “ Very good ” said 
 the sahib I’ll send for the money.” He told the syce to 
 put the horse in the buggy and gave him a chit to take 
 to town. The syce and buggy returned in about an hour 
 with the Superintendent of the Detective Police, and not 
 as I had fondly hoped with the five hundred rupees. The 
 officer, after hearing the sahib's account of the mendicant’s 
 death made a thorough examination of the body—turn¬ 
 ing it over and over. He then made me stand up and 
 answer a number of questions, as to my relationship to 
 the deceased, his mode of life and general habits. This 
 done, the police officer asked the sahib if he had a syringe 
 and a bottle of solution of arsenic. He answered in the 
 affirmative, and the articles were produced. Then two 
 mehters were sent for, and on their arrival the detective 
 
THE FAKIR’S STORY. 
 
 61 
 
 ordered them to inject the body of my disciple with the 
 solution of arsenic. This was done, the officer explained, 
 to keep the body fresh until the police surgeon could be 
 summoned to make the usual post-mortem examination. 
 On hearing this I fell on the ground, caught hold of the 
 officer’s feet and implored him to allow me to take the 
 body away and I would say nothing about his death to 
 any one. The detective shook his head. Seeing there 
 was nothing for it but to expose the trick I turned my 
 disciple over on his face and gave him one or two smart 
 blows between the shoulders. This restored animation. 
 The supposed dead man jumped to his feet and bolted for 
 his life. The effect on the bystanders was electrical! 
 Not a soul could move to follow the fugitive, so sudden 
 and unexpected was the surprise. He got clear away. 
 I, however, shared a different fate. I was charged with 
 conspiring with another man, not in custody, to extort 
 money by fraudulaut means from the sahib and sentenced 
 to five years’ rigorous imprisonment. I succeeded, how¬ 
 ever, in escaping from jail during the first year of my 
 incarceration, and here I am, in a free land, amongst free 
 people, a noble and fearless band of outlaws ! 
 
62 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE BABOO’S STORY. 
 
 The fakir having ended his narrative amidst great ap¬ 
 plause the chief called upon the Baboo to favour the 
 company with the next story. When the Baboo was named, 
 roars of laughter burst from every man present. The 
 chief himself could not refrain from joining in the general 
 merriment, for every one wondered what adventures an 
 educated Bengalee could have to relate calculated to 
 entertain a band of outlaws ! He never took part in any 
 of their expeditions. His duty was tb J^eep the accounts 
 of the company; and in the event of any of the men get¬ 
 ting into trouble, to manufacture a defence and prove an 
 alibi. Here he was as much at home, as the bravest of 
 that brave little band, in storming a village. He was a 
 
THE BABOO’S STORY. 
 
 63 
 
 useful man nevertheless and his great services were freely 
 acknowledged by all, chief and men alike. True, a late 
 Viceroy of British India had nearly succeeded in turning 
 his poor little head. He conceived the idea that he was 
 destined to become one of the ruling race in India and 
 actually wanted to change places with his chief. But his 
 “ aspirations ” were received with so much ridicule, and 
 the chief actually offering to give him the post of honour 
 in the next expedition, the Baboo said he would take time 
 to think over the matter. He did think it over, and at 
 last came to the conclusion that the honour was not worth 
 the risk. He accordingly begged to be allowed to with¬ 
 draw his application for the post of honour. This decision, 
 however, was not arrived at until a new Viceroy had 
 taught the Baboos that they were unfitted by nature to 
 become leaders of men even in their own country. So 
 the Baboo settled down to his business of casting accounts 
 and manufacturing false witnesses in criminal cases. 
 
 This was the man the chief now called upon to enter¬ 
 tain the company with a history of his antecedents before 
 joining a band of dacoits. He thus began. I am a Baboo 
 of the Baboos, what Nuncomar was to the Brahmins of 
 the time of Warren Hastings, I am to the Baboos of the 
 present day—a representative man—a true type of the 
 race from which I sprang. What the Italian is to the 
 Englishman, what the Hindoo is to the Italian, what ihe 
 Bengalee is to other Hindoos, that am I to the Baboos in 
 general. My physical organisation is weak even to ef¬ 
 feminacy. I have been brought up from infancy in a 
 constant vapour bath. My pursuits have been sedentary, 
 mv limbs are consequently delicate and my movements 
 sluggish and languid. During many ages my people have 
 been trampled upon by men of bolder and more hardy 
 
64 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 breeds. Therefore courage, in dependence, and veracity 
 are qualities unfavourable to my circumstances and sur¬ 
 roundings. My mind bears a singular analogy to my body. 
 It is weak, even to helplessness for purposes of manly re¬ 
 sistance, hut its suppleness, its tact, its subtility, its 
 artfulness, its craftiness, its insinuating cunningness sur¬ 
 passes every other race on the face of the earth. The 
 children of sterner climes may look upon the Baboo with 
 contempt, but they are forced to admire the singular acute¬ 
 ness of his wonderful mind. All the arts which are the 
 natural defence of the weak are more familiar to me than 
 to the Ionian of the time of Juvenal or the Jew of the 
 dark ages.* What the horns are to the buffalo, what the 
 paw is to the tiger, what the poison is to the snake, what 
 the sting is to the bee, what the spring is to the cat, what 
 cunning is to the jackal, deceit is to the Baboo. It is his 
 armour of offence and defence. 
 
 The Baboo is an educational product, the result of en¬ 
 grafting Western ideas on an Oriental stock. The effect 
 is the same as that produced by the teaching of Chris¬ 
 tianity to other races of India. “You have converted a 
 heathen, but you have not made a Christian.” 
 
 The moment I was able to comprehend, my mother, by 
 her example, taught me the art of deception. She used 
 ‘to make holes in the mat walls of the zenana to peep 
 through when she heard a man’s voice in the street, and 
 accuse me of being the delinquent when my father noticed 
 the openings and questioned her on the subject. When I 
 became a little older my father took my education in hand. 
 He taught me many wise maxims. Here are one or two r 
 ~t-“ A mahout is as strong as an elephant so long as he has 
 
 * Lord Macaulay slightly altered. 
 
THE BABOO’S STORY, 
 
 65 
 
 got a firm seat on its neck; ” and again:—“ It is better 
 to be the foot servant of a king than the chief of two 
 villages;” and yet another:—“Walk das hos (twenty 
 miles) to oblige the man yon intend to rnin.” 
 
 This teaching made a deep and lasting impression on 
 my yonng mind. It laid the foundation of that branch of 
 knowledge in which I afterwards excelled, an intimate 
 acquaintance with the knavery of life. In due time I was 
 sent to school and a paternal Government allowed me six 
 rupees a month subsistence money during the whole period 
 of my scholastic career. This liberality my father ex¬ 
 plained was intended as a bribe to induce me to learn 
 English and qualify for a writership in a Government 
 office. However, I made fair progress in my studies and 
 used to surprise the old folk, when, home for the holidays, 
 with my knowledge of English. True, it was “ Baboo 
 English,” but my father was as proud of my exercises as 
 if they had been written after the pure and polished style 
 of Burke, Nevertheless, 1 was not allowed to neglect, 
 what my father called my home studies, his favourite 
 maxims. Consequently at school I spoke one language, 
 at home another; at school I dressed in one fashion; at 
 home in another; at school I sat in one position; at home 
 in another; at school I thought in one groove, at home in 
 another; at school I was taught one kind of morality; at 
 home another; at school I learned the principles of com¬ 
 mon honesty, at home I was taught that common honesty 
 was a humbug; at school I was taught to love truth; at 
 home the reverse. My parents deemed lying one of the 
 fine arts, a most desirable accomplishment to a man who 
 had to make his way in the world; at school I was taught 
 the earth was round, at home that it was another shape; 
 at school I was taught that there was only one God, at 
 5 
 
66 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 home that there were nine hundred and ninety-nine million 
 gods. And so on till the end of the chapter. Whatever 
 I learned at school I had to unlearn at home. I mixed up 
 the teachings of the Purohits with Fawcett and Mill, and 
 tangled the Shasters with Spencer, and strung Kalidasa 
 and Cleopatra in alternate lumps. The professors were 
 at first delighted, and declared that this was the dawning 
 of a “ national literature.” My progress was watched 
 with much interest and more curiosity as I continued to 
 mix up the proverbs which I had learned at home about 
 climbing over other people’s shoulders to employment, 
 and the lesson taught me at school from Smiles on Self- 
 Help ! 
 
 The outcome of all this mixing up of Eastern and 
 Western ideas was a “national literature” commonly 
 called “ Baboo English,” at which grave and venerable 
 professors shook their heads, and the world laughed ! The 
 world was right, what else could it expect? The profes¬ 
 sors declared they had looked for something better. Poor 
 short-sighted mortals ! It never struck them that a brain 
 overloaded with Spencer’s Fairy Queen, pp. 1 to 131 
 inclusive, and Kingsley’s Westward Ho! and Bishop 
 Colenso as far as Decimal Fractions, and Fawcett’s Poli¬ 
 tical Economy, and Hypatia, and the elements of Logic 
 and whole pages of Chaucer, besides unlimited quantities of 
 Natural and Moral Philosophy and mountains of History, 
 was sure to have the same effect on their pupils as would 
 result from an over-loaded stomach. It produced indiges¬ 
 tion, and ultimately acute and chronic dyspepsia ! Not 
 one of us pupils was fit to appear at the B. A. examination 
 when the time came, with any hope of success. But, 
 thanks to my home teaching, I was equal to the occasion. 
 I had a relation in the post office, with whose assistance I 
 
THE BABOO’S STORY. 
 
 67 
 
 managed to get a set of the examination questions. With 
 this in my possession you will not he surprised to hear 
 that I headed the list of passed candidates for the coveted 
 “ degree.” I came off in flying colours, and here is my 
 reward. A high Government official attended the Uni¬ 
 versity to distribute the honours. I was the first called 
 up, and as the little piece of parchment was handed to me, 
 I received at the same time a nice little lecture to this 
 effect: “ Now, my good little man, we have given you an 
 excellent education, go forth into the world and carve out 
 an honourable career for yourself. I am sorry that all 
 our offices are full just now; hut with the talents that 
 you possess you will have no difficulty in obtaining employ¬ 
 ment.” I bowed and retired. But I went away sorrow¬ 
 fully nevertheless. My subsistence allowence was stopped, 
 and I had no Government appointment as I had fondly 
 hoped, to look forward to. Besides I was the father of 
 three children, having on the strength of my subsistence 
 allowance, married before concluding my studies. And, 
 to add to my misfortune, just at this time my wife’s 
 widowed sister, with a large family, were thrown on my 
 hands. So after remaining at home for a month or two, 
 brooding over my deplorable condition, I plucked up 
 courage, aud started one morning, with my degree in my 
 pocket, to carve out “ an honoureble career ” for myself. 
 I visited all the mercantile houses in Calcutta and solicit¬ 
 ed employment. When asked what I cou Id do, I trotted 
 out my degree. But the merchants shook their heads, 
 and muttering something about fraudulent practices at 
 examinations, gave me to understand that they did not 
 want degree-holders, but a man who could write a neat 
 hand and spell fairly well. As this was a branch of my 
 education that had been frightfully neglected I could ob- 
 
68 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 tain no employment, so I returned home more sorrowful 
 and down-hearted than ever. I actually cursed the Govern¬ 
 ment for making me a useless member of society and a 
 burthen to my friends and relations. 
 
 At last I found my metier! I started a vernacular 
 paper and abused the Government of India. I abused it up 
 hill and down dale. Hot as the radical papers in England 
 abuse the Government, but as the French peasantry 
 abused the aristocracy before the revolution ! I abused it 
 in the Ciceronian style, beginning :—Quousque tandem , &c., 
 
 I cursed it after the manner of “-, ” I pulverised it- 
 
 on paper in the periods of Burke, and when my stock of 
 English invective was exhausted, I had recourse to my 
 own flexible tongue which abounds in abusive expressions. 
 
 I abused the civil service. I abused the political officers, I 
 abused, in turn, every department of the administration 
 And what was most shameful of all to abuse, I abused the 
 planting community with a virulence and persistency 
 worthy of a better cause, a community whose private 
 capital saves thousands, nay hundreds of thousands, of 
 my countrymen from starvation every year; turns desolate 
 wastes and impenetrable jungles into delightful and smil¬ 
 ing gardens; and prevents pestilence in congested districts 
 by drawing ofl: the surplus population. I am in fact, the 
 inventor of the now common expression “ brutal planter.” 
 This is how I have revenged myself on the Government 
 for poisoning my mind with half-digested studies; for 
 forcing on me an English education for which I was 
 neither morally nor mentally fitted. 
 
 But Act IX of 1878, known as the Gagging Act, brought 
 my literary career to an end. I had now to seek other 
 employment. But my name and fame had gone abroad; 
 and the fearlessness with which I had attacked the 
 
THE BABOO’S STORY. 
 
 69 
 
 Government raised me np many friends and supporters 
 amongst my own people. I was therefore not long wait¬ 
 ing for a billet. The post of treasurer at the district 
 head-quarters became vacant. I applied for the appoint¬ 
 ment, and as I was highly recommended by a countryman 
 in the confidence of the Collector, secured the post. The 
 Collector was a man whom I had abused up hill and down 
 dale when I occupied the editorial chair, but he never 
 recognised in the humble and obedient clerk, the scurrilous 
 and lying journalist. I never came into the presence of 
 the sahib without making three low bows. I went even 
 further than this, for I made two bows to his bearer and 
 one to his wife’s ayah whenever I met them. I would 
 have even imitated my great prototype, Nuncomar, and 
 made three salaams to the Collector’s jack ass every 
 day of my life to gain his good opinion and retain my 
 appointment, for it turned out to me a very lucrative one. 
 There was always a large balance in the treasure chest, 
 and as the sahib never inspected the cash on hand, I con- 
 ceeived the idea of turning it to profitable account. I let 
 it out at high interest.* I was getting on swimmingly 
 when some scoundrel, jealous of my success in life, let the 
 cat out of the bag. The Collector received an anonymous 
 letter that I was trading on the treasury cash balance and 
 amassing a fortune. At the time he said not a word 
 about the matter nor showed the least sign that he was 
 at all suspicious. He waited till Sunday, when the office 
 would be closed and all the clerks absent. Then taking 
 the key of the treasure chest he walked quietly to the 
 treasury building and unlocked the box. Behold it was 
 empty! He was horrified. But, nevertheless, made not 
 the slightest commotion over the matter. He relocked 
 the empty box, put the key in its usual place and went 
 
 * Fact. 
 
70 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 about bis business as usual. That evening lie drove into 
 Calcutta, liad an interview with the Commissioner of 
 Police, Sir Stuart Hogg. Reid the detective was sent for 
 and a consultation was held. The conclusion arrived at 
 was that if I were arrested there would be no chance of 
 recovering the money. Clever fellow that detective ! So 
 it was arranged that the Collector would return to head 
 quarters as if nothing had occurred, and allow things to 
 go on as usual. In the meantime Reid would arrange for 
 an official letter to be sent to the Collector intimating that 
 his office and treasury would be inspected by the Com¬ 
 missioner of the division on a given date. This letter 
 would be opened by the head clerk in the first instance 
 and would therefore excite no suspicion, especially as the 
 date of the usual annual inspection was not far off. The 
 letter arrived in due course and the Collector issued orders 
 to all concerned to put their house in order for the coming 
 ordeal. I was not aware at the time it would prove such 
 a fiery one. I found myself now in a terrible fix. The 
 parties to whom I had lent the money were mostly small 
 traders, and it would be impossible for me to collect from 
 these men in so short a time the sum required to make up 
 the treasury balance. I was obliged, therefore, to have 
 recourse to the bazar money-lender to carry me over the 
 inspection. In this way I replenished my treasure chest 
 and awaited quietly the arrival of the Commissioner. On 
 the day fixed for the inspection no Commissioner appeared, 
 but the Collector after breakfast paid me a visit. He en¬ 
 quired if my accounts w T ere all right. I answered, after 
 my customary three low bows, that my department would 
 bear the strictest examination. “ I am glad to hear it, 
 Baboo ” was the reply. I was then ordered to open the 
 treasure chest and count over the contents. This was 
 
THE BABOO’S STORY. 
 
 71 
 
 done. The cash was found correct to a pie. The sahib 
 then complimented me on my good management. I 
 bowed again in acknowledgment. He was a bit of a wag, 
 that sahib! The moment the cash was replaced in the 
 chest and locked up he put the key in his pocket and went 
 away whistling to his Cutcherry! 
 
 It then began to dawn upon my afflicted mind that there 
 was something wrong. I was not kept long in suspense. 
 Half-an-liour afterwards the head clerk handed me a 
 paper from the Collector informing me that I was suspend¬ 
 ed till further orders. In the evening the Calcutta 
 detective came and I now thought it was all up with me. 
 But after a second consultation with the Collector it was 
 decided that I was not to be prosecuted, but simply dis¬ 
 missed, and left to the vengeance of the money-lenders in 
 the bazar whom I had swindled. As soon as it got noised 
 abroad that I had been dethroned from office and power, 
 the men to whom I had really advanced money repudiated 
 their debts. Some bolted and others defied me to put 
 them into court for the recovery of money that I had 
 stolen from the treasure chest; while the men from whom 
 I had taken temporary loans were ready to tear me to 
 pieces when they discovered that I was unable to meet 
 their claims. In this dilemma I had no other alternative 
 but to clear out of the country, and as Act IX of 1878 was 
 still in force I could not resume a journalistic profession. 
 So I joined a band of dacoits instead! 
 
 When the Baboo concluded his story the band of outlaws 
 declared that they only understood one half of the narra¬ 
 tive. But what they did understand they pronounced 
 excellent, especially where the Baboo was defeated and 
 actually brought to grief in a contest with his own favourite 
 weapons—deception. 
 
72 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 “ Ah ! my friends ” returned the Baboo, “ it is the fate 
 of all great men, who are too learned for their audience, 
 they are not understood ; a? id the cleverest man of whom 
 we have any record, Lord Bacon, was as helpless as a 
 child when he found himself driven into a corner by his 
 enemies. It was not the difficulty of the situation to 
 which I succumbed, but the suddenness of the surprise ! 
 It came upon me like a thunder-clap and left me feeble 
 and prostrate both physically and mentally. But there 
 is a day of retribution at hand. I will live to see it, please 
 Prajapati , when the English shall be driven across the 
 black water and a Baboo will rule India from Government 
 House, Calcutta. When that day comes, my friends, I 
 will make you all commanders of tens, commanders of 
 hundreds, and commanders of thousands.” 
 
 This announcement was received with great applause 
 and the company broke up for the night. 
 
THE NATIVE CHRISTIAN’S STORY. 
 
 73 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE NATIVE CHRISTIAN’S STORY. 
 
 The Baboo having conclnded his interesting narrative, 
 the chief called npon Solomon Christian for the next 
 story. He accordingly, began in this manner. 
 
 I am the son of a celebrated salt-smuggler named 
 Krishna Rao, and hail from the Coromandel Coast, that 
 part of it which forms the Eastern boundary of the district 
 of Nellor in the Madras Presidency, lying between 30° 25' 
 and 15° 55' N. Lat. and between 79° 9’ and 80° 14' E. 
 Long. I like to be particular in these minor details of 
 my autobiography. It is a duty I owe to my country 
 that the birth-place of one of her most illustrious sons 
 shall not, like the immortal Shakspeare, be buried in 
 doubt and obscurity. 
 
74 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 When I was only eight years of age my father was 
 convicted of salt smuggling and, as it was his fifteenth 
 offence, he was sentenced to five years’ rigorous imprison¬ 
 ment. I was in consequence left to the care and protec¬ 
 tion of one of the worst step-mothers that ever fell to 
 the lot of an unfortunate orphan of eight. Whenever 
 she went out on any business, for my father left her very 
 well provided for, she used to tie me to a stake driven 
 into the floor of our hut, to keep me out of mischief as 
 she called it, during her visits to a neighbouring grog¬ 
 shop. It so happened one day while my mother was 
 absent the parah in which we lived caught fire. I was 
 as usual secured to the stake in the floor. I could hear 
 the noise and bustle of people running to and fro in the 
 street calling out fire ! fire ! I made desperate efforts to 
 free myself, but in vain. Just as the devouring element 
 had caught the thatch of our hut, the padre sahib burst 
 open the door, and seeing my situation, cut the rope with 
 which I was secured and saved me from being converted 
 into animal charcoal. 
 
 I was taken by the padre to the mission home, and as 
 my step-mother never turned up to claim me, I was bap¬ 
 tized, and transformed into a full blown Christian. I was 
 blessed with the name of Solomon. It was a name of 
 happy omen, as will presently appear. Having been 
 successfully initiated into the visible church of Christ, 
 I was next sent to the Mission school, where, if my 
 educational progress did not come up to the expectations 
 of my teachers, I soon developed a remarkable faculty 
 for invention, that surprised them. 
 
 The bent of my genius lay in the art of knavery. 
 Don’t laugh, my beloved comrades it requires a genius 
 to act the knave. What does my friend Lytton say ? 
 
THE NATIVE CHRISTIAN’S STORY. 
 
 75 
 
 Not tlie author of the Indian Gagging Act, mind, but the 
 author of the author of that hateful piece of legislation: 
 “ A knave is a philosopher, though a philosopher is not 
 necessarily a knave. I hold of knavery as Plata hath 
 said of virtue, ‘ Could it be seen incarnate, it would beget 
 a personal adoration.” And so say I. And so say all of 
 us! (Hear! hear! from the audience). 
 
 There is little in the life of a youngster, during his 
 early school days, worth relating. Suffice it to say, 
 though I was the most consummate rascal in school, the 
 missionaries thought me a paragon of all the virtues. 
 They would often say to one another, ‘ Well, in this lad 
 at all events, we have buried the old Adam, and out of 
 the unpromising material raised up a new and perfect 
 man.’ I was regarded as a miracle of truth and honesty, 
 being an Oriental. True, I gained my good name at the 
 expense of my school fellows. But it was a game of 
 diamond cut diamond, in which I always held the best 
 hand. All the boys hated me because the padres loved 
 and trusted me. In retaliating I exacted a fearful re¬ 
 venge, on my enemies. When I wanted to crush a boy 
 who had done me an injury, I commenced by cultivating 
 his friendship, and after gaining his confidence led him 
 into some serious mischief, and then reported the matter 
 to the padre. Another trick of mine was to steal some 
 article from' the mission house and hide it in the bed of 
 the party I wanted to get into trouble. When the article 
 was missed the padre would announce the fact in the 
 school room and appeal to the conscience of the thief, if 
 he was present to give it up on pain of incurring the ever¬ 
 lasting displeasure of the great Creator of the universe. 
 The padre after delivering himself in this fashion would 
 pause for a reply. Finding no one answer I would step 
 
76 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 forward, and in a voice, choking with emotion, declare 
 that the stigma that had been cast upon the whole school, 
 by the offence of one guilty person was acutely felt by 
 every honest and true hearted Christian present. I could 
 see the 'padre's lips move in silent prayer that he had been 
 instrumental in plucking me like a brand from the burn¬ 
 ing and leading me from darkness to light, as I concluded, 
 with a request that the innocent might not suffer for the 
 guilty, but that a thorough search should be made in the 
 school dormitory for the missing article. This appeal was 
 always successful with the result intended. 
 
 My cleverest piece of ingenuity during my scholastic 
 career was in obtaining copies of the examination questions 
 in which I had to appear before entering on my profession 
 as a vakil. Two of the padres of our mission were the 
 examiners. The questions when prepared were printed 
 at the mission press. The only persons allowed into the 
 printing office during the process of setting up the 
 questions in type and printing them off were the padre , 
 the compositor and myself. I was selected for this duty 
 because I was the most trustworthy boy in school. My 
 work was ostensibly to turn the handle of the machine, 
 but in reality to keep an eye on the compositor. When 
 everything was ready the padre supplied fifty sheets of 
 blank paper. The first sheet was struck and taken to his 
 desk for correction. The moment the compositor left the 
 machine I sat down upon the fount of type and received 
 a capital impression on my posterior. When the neces¬ 
 sary corrections had been made in the proof the com¬ 
 positor returned to the machine and made the correspond¬ 
 ing alterations in the fount of type. This done the 
 printing was proceeded with, and immediately the last 
 sheet was struck off, the type was broken up in presence 
 
THE NATIVE CHRISTIAN’S STORY. 
 
 77 
 
 of myself and the 'padre. The moment I obtained my 
 liberty I hurried off to the dormitory and stretching my¬ 
 self face downwards, in front of a looking glass with 
 pencil and paper, copied oh the impression I had carried 
 away from the printing office. 
 
 In due course the day of examination arrived. I passed 
 with flying colours. In fact headed the list by a long 
 way. The padre declared I was the best “ pass ” that had 
 ever gone up from the missim t school. 
 
 If I had been regarded before this event with feelings 
 of jealousy by my school mates, I was now the object of 
 their envy. All kinds of insinuations were made to ac¬ 
 count for my successful “ pass,” one was that the padre 
 who had rescued me, as he called it “ like a brand from 
 the burning,” and who never lost an opportunity of 
 parading the circumstances of my rescue before strangers, 
 wanted to make me out superior to my school mates, not 
 only in virtue but intellect, awarded me marks to which I 
 was not entitled. However, I was prudent enough to 
 keep my own counsel and secretly enjoyed the feelings 
 of envy my success had inspired in the breasts of my 
 companions. 
 
 _ Shortly after my ex amin a tion , I was apprenticed to a 
 firm of solicitors. Here I made good use of my time, and 
 after three years, secured a certificate to practice as a 
 vakil. This was the crisis of my life. I was now thrown 
 upon my own resources, and spent some weeks in deciding 
 upon where I should start practice. Every court was 
 blocked with men of my profession and there was little or 
 no chance for a newcomer. He was looked upon by the 
 older hands as an interloper. At last I decided on a dis¬ 
 trict and removed to the neighbourhood of the court in 
 which I intended to practice. I had not been many hours 
 
78 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 in the place when I was visited by two or three members 
 of the “ local bar ” from whom I learned that there were 
 eight practising vakils, but that two could do all the work 
 to be had with infinite ease, and then have lots of time to 
 spare. This news was not very encouraging certainly. 
 One of my visitors ironically asked me what I was going 
 to do with my spare time ? I replied, with a smile “ Create 
 work for my professional brethren.” They looked at one 
 another in astonishment. One had the courage to say. 
 “ I was just the kind of man they wanted. If I brought 
 my own work with me I would be made welcome, but 
 doubly so if I created work for others.” 
 
 A day or two after this conversation I appeared in court 
 and was formally introduced to the liakim. There were 
 only two or three petty cases to be disposed of, not one of 
 my professional brethren held a single brief. We sat out 
 the two hours occupied in disposing of the cases before 
 the court and retired with the hakim. One of the senior 
 vakils said to me on leaving the court. “ Well, brother, 
 what do you think of the outlook ? ” “ It is certainly 
 
 not very promising ” I replied. “ But I do not despair 
 of being able to improve matters.” "My friend looked at 
 me enquiringly. “ Look here,” said I, “I am given to 
 understand that there are two wealthy zemindars in this 
 neighbourhood whose lands join each other, and that they 
 are not on the best of terms. Would it not be possible to 
 set them by the ears in such a way as to bring them into 
 court.” My friend stopped short as if a new light had 
 dawned upon him. Then after a short pause exclaimed, 
 “ Excellent! Capital! I never thought of that before.” 
 “ Look here,” said I, “ there is a piece of char land recently 
 formed which both parties claim. Now I propose that we 
 send men during the night to erect a chupper on this piece 
 
THE NATIVE CHRISTIAN’S STORY. 79 
 
 of waste land, and tlie first tiling in the morning, give 
 notice to each of the two claimants of what has occurred. 
 Both men will at once accuse the other of taking unlaw¬ 
 ful possession, and will immediately collect his retainers 
 and proceed to the spot to demolish the chupper. In the 
 meantime, notice can he sent to the magistrate that a 
 breach of the peace is anticipated. He will despatch a 
 posse of police to prevent it. The latter can lie in ambush 
 until the two hostile parties meet, and then sally forth 
 and arrest them for being members of an unlawful assem¬ 
 bly and rioting. If this case don’t give full time employ¬ 
 ment to every pleader in the district for the next twelve 
 months my name isn’t Solomon. “ Let me embrace you, 
 brother,” cried my friend in a transport of delight. 
 “ You’re an honour to the profession.” So we embraced 
 and retired to the house of another learned brother to 
 smoke and mature our plans for the fray. 
 
 A few days after this conversation the police brought 
 in to hajat thirty prisoners, some with broken heads and 
 others with wounds and bruises all over tne body. A cart 
 laden with lathies, a few old swords, and a matchlock 
 accompanied the rioters. It was a sight to charm the 
 heart of a lawyer ! Even to this day my chest swells with 
 honest emotion when I think of the effect produced by 
 my ingenuity. All my professional brethren swarmed 
 round me like vultures round carrion in hopes of partici¬ 
 pating in some of the pickings. But there was plenty 
 for all. I took under my special care one of the zemin¬ 
 dars. My new made friend who was in the secret, 
 appropriated the other. The zemindars’ retainers, mostly 
 well-to-do tenants were distributed amongst the other 
 members of my profession. We managed amongst us to 
 spin the case out in the lower court for nine months by 
 
80 
 
 KNAVEKY UNMASKED. 
 
 frequent postponements. Then the case was committed 
 to the sessions. This occupied another three months ; and 
 as the pleaders who conducted the case in the lower court 
 would be required to watch the proceedings at the sessions 
 they had to be furnished with retainers. At the sessions 
 the two zemindars as principals were convicted and sen¬ 
 tenced to long terms of imprisonment. Most of the 
 retainers were let off by the infliction of a fine. 
 
 But the case did not rest here. The appeals entered 
 by the zemindars against their sentence gave employment 
 to the lawyers for another twelve months. Indeed, the 
 case might have lasted as many years, but for the fact that 
 the appellants had run through the whole of their vast 
 zemindaries. They were both, to use a trite but common 
 expression, beggared! 
 
 I had now to look about me for another crow to 
 pluck. I was not long in procuring one. A well-to-do 
 zemindar named Shamlall Bass was in constant hot water 
 with his tenets. No Irish landlord had ever more diffi¬ 
 culty jin collecHrig l^is rents. Frequent lawsuits, both 
 civil and criminal, between the zemindar and his ryots 
 was the result. The thorn in the side of the zemindar 
 was some half-a-d^zen of Ahirs who had settled on the 
 estate. These men used to put up the other tenants not 
 to pay rent. How to get rid of these men was the one 
 subject that exercised the mind of the zemindar. I was 
 applied to for counsel and advice and suggested a plan 
 that had the entire approval of the zemindar. This is 
 what I proposed. The zemindar had a tall, powerful», up- 
 country man named Mohun, an\J expert lathial (club-man). 
 It was by the aid of this man the zemindar was able to 
 squeeze his land revenue out of his tenants. The Ahirs, 
 ^however, were more than a match for Mohun, even with 
 
THE NATIVE CHRISTIAN’S STORY. 81 
 
 kis own favourite weapon. He could do nothing with 
 them and the bad example was demoralizing the other 
 tenants. Mohun had been frequently threatened that his 
 corpse would he found some morning lying in the jungle. 
 This was known by, and often reported to the police and 
 the magistrate, consequently if such an event did happen 
 nobody would be surprised. “ Let us,” said I to the zemin¬ 
 dar in confidence, “ take advantage of this feeling in the 
 
 neighbourhood to entangle the Ahirs in the net they had 
 
 % 
 
 cast for Mohun. You give Mohun, say a hundred rupees, 
 send him to his country with instructions to keep in hid¬ 
 ing till further orders. I w r ill procure a corpse, place it in 
 the jungle near the Ahir village; and, when Mohun is 
 missed, give information to the police. The latter will 
 make a search for the missing man and discover the 
 bones of the corpse in the jungle with such other 
 evidence as will leave no doubt on the minds of any rea¬ 
 sonable man but that Mohun has been the victim of a foul 
 and brutal murder. The Ahirs will be run in for the 
 crime, and you just leave their conviction to me.” 
 
 The zemindar could hardly restrain his delight. He 
 caught me by both hands, and thanking me most heartily, 
 promised a handsome and substantial reward. We parted. 
 The zemindar to send off Mohun to his country, and I 
 to procure a corpse. Five days after this interview 
 with the zemindar the Ahirs were all in custody on a 
 charge of murder. I secured one eye-witness to the 
 crime—a professional informer. This man stated before 
 the magistrate that on returning from a neighbouring lidt , 
 (market) after dark on Monday night, he heard the 
 voice of Mohun calling for assistance. He approach¬ 
 ed the jungle from which the sound issued and found 
 the six prisoners holding dowu the deceased, whilfe 
 ©ne of their number, he was not certain which, cut his 
 6 
 
82 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 throat. After the perpetration of the murder the six 
 Ahirs now before the court flung the body into a ravine 
 and returned to their homes. On the way the knife with 
 which the deed was committed was buried in a field. He 
 pointed out the place to the police and the knife was un¬ 
 earthed. The witness in reply to a question from the 
 court said, “ I did not show myself when I heard Moliun 
 calling for help as I was afraid of incurring the anger of 
 the Ahirs. They might have killed me also, I consequent¬ 
 ly squatted down behind a bush and remained out of sight. 
 I did not report what I had seen to any one until I heard 
 the police were searching for Mohun, because I got 
 drunk that night and forgot all about the matter.’' 
 
 The police proved the finding of the bones of a man in 
 the nullah alluded to by the last witness. The flesh had 
 been stripped off the bones by jackals, a bunch of keys 
 and a pair of shoes were found near the spot which were 
 clearly proved to have belonged to the missing man, 
 Other witnesses followed to show the enmity existing be¬ 
 tween the deceased- and the prisoners. 
 
 This completed the case for the prosecution and the six 
 Ahirs were remanded to the sessions on a charge of wilful 
 murder. The case against the prisoners was so clear that 
 no one doubted the result of the forthcoming trial. 
 
 Two months elapsed before the opening of the Criminal 
 Sessions. The prisoners when brought before the Judge 
 and Jury looked terribly crestfallen, the very picture of 
 woe and despair. Their appearance told against them, 
 and their downhearted ness and dogged manner were re¬ 
 garded as evidence of their guilt. Before a witness had 
 spoken every one present in court had pronounced them 
 guilty. One or two spectators had remarked that murder 
 was depicted in each of their faces. 
 
THE NATIVE CHRISTIAN’S STORY. 
 
 83 
 
 The case was called on, the jury Sworn, the bones of the 
 victim laid ont on a table and the prisoners asked to plead 
 to the charge. 
 
 “ Not gnilty ” was the almost inaudible response of each 
 of the accused. The evidence was then proceeded with. 
 All went well till the medical officer was called into the 
 box. All the previous witnesses were at one with each 
 other in regard to the height of the missing Mohun. He 
 was not under six feet. The medical testimony negatived 
 this point. The bones before the judge and jury were 
 ared to be that of a man not more than five feet eight 
 inches in stature. But the judge explained this to the 
 jury by'saying, the medical officer had never seen Mohun 
 alive, and as he was a reputed bully his height would pro¬ 
 bably be exaggerated. 
 
 This point settled, the jury were asked to consider their 
 verdict. So after a short consultation, without quitting 
 their seats, the foreman stood up and the judge put the 
 question. “Well, Mr. Foreman, how say you! Do you 
 find the prisoners at the bar guilty or not guilty of the 
 murder of Mohun ? “ Guilty, my Lord,” was the reply. 
 “ And that is the verdict of you all,” continued the judge. 
 “Yes, my Lord ” returned the foreman of the jury. 
 
 Tableau. Just as the judge was about to pronounce 
 sentence on the prisoners who should stalk into court but 
 the veritable Mohun himself! The crowd of spectators 
 melted away as if by magic. Every one present except 
 those in the secret believed they had seen a ghost. Two 
 of the prisoners fainted! The doctor in his excitement 
 blurted out “ Mohun, are these,” pointing to the table 
 where the skeleton was laid out; “your bones?” 
 Mohun, like one bewildered, stood glaring at the ghastly 
 sight, but made no reply. The judge here interposed 
 ard ordered Mohun into the witness box. Mohun’s state- 
 
84 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 merit to the judge was to this effect. He had been paid 
 by the zemindar to go to his country for a short time and 
 keep out of the way. He was not told for what purpose. 
 He simply did as he was ordered by his master and de¬ 
 parted at a moment’s notice. A man in the bazar had 
 owed him some money and he wrote to him privately de¬ 
 manding payment. The debtor wrote back saying I was 
 dead and denying the debt. I have consequently come 
 here to hnd out what it all means and recover my money 
 through the court. He was not murdered or molested by 
 the prisoners at the bar though he knew they bore him 
 no good will, and the bones on the table were not his! y 
 
 As Mohun concluded his statement the judge ordered 
 all the witnesses for the prosecution to be detained in 
 court. The order came too late. They had all cleaned out 
 on the first appearance off Mohun. I made 
 
 company 
 ^ .. 
 security 
 
 . D. An almost parallel case to the above came before 
 the Portli-Western Provinces Court on appeal in June 
 1889. A report of the case appeared in the Ptoneex and 
 was copied into the Indian Daily News of the 15th of 
 June 1889. 
 
THE STORY OF THE “ MOCK RAJAH.” 
 
 85 
 
 CHAPTER IX, 
 
 THE STORY OF THE “ MOCK RAJAH.” 
 
 Solomon Christian having concluded his interesting 
 narrative for which he was enthusiastically applauded, 
 the Chief called upon the “Mock Rajah” for the next 
 story. He accordingly began after this fashion. 
 
 I am called a ‘‘Mock Rajah” by my enemies and 
 dupes, but my friends and retainers call me a “ Real 
 Rajah” and a jolly good fellow to boot. I have, in my 
 time, made money like a mint and squandered it like a 
 prince. I have entertained like an emperor and fleeced 
 my guests like a Clive or a Hastings. I have held courts 
 with more pomp and ostentatious display than is permit¬ 
 ted to the descendants of the Great Mogul or the survivors 
 of the house of Tamerlane! I drove a more gorgeous 
 
86 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 equipage and possessed a camp of elephants more richly 
 caparisoned than the Kings of Delhi. I occupied garden 
 villas more profusely and luxuriously fitted up than the 
 drawing-rooms of Hastings.’ “ Elegant Marian,” of whom 
 the ayahs in liquid melody sing their little charges to 
 sleep to the tune of Alla Malla Tunia. I have reclined 
 in palanquins of sandal-wood adorned with carved ivory, 
 such as the begums of the princely house of Oude, in the 
 zenith of their power and splendour, would have been proud 
 to possess. I have sat down, with my guests at tables 
 covered with crystal and silver, and drank champagne 
 from cups of burnished gold. Rich zemindars and mer¬ 
 chants worth lakhs of rupees had prostrated themselves 
 at my feet and craved my patronage. And to what do 
 you think, my friends, I am indebted for all this homage, 
 magnificence, luxury and pomp P To my wit! gentle¬ 
 men ; to my wit! I was born to an inheritance of poverty, 
 but like my friend, Solomon, I foregathered when a youth 
 with a Christian Missionary from whom I learned to read 
 and write. This was of great assistance to me in my sub¬ 
 sequent career. I also benefited much by his lectures. 
 He was a great moral philosopher, and being myself of a 
 contemplative temperament I turned my attention to 
 philosophical studies. The Missionary was delighted and 
 gave me the run of his library. I stumbled, quite by 
 accident I assure you, upon 44 Paul Clifford.” This book 
 was to me, what the Greek authors should be to the 
 academician, a study by day and a dream by night. It 
 turned my thoughts to the possibility of uniting the wis¬ 
 dom and ingenuity of the West to the cunning and menda¬ 
 city of the East. I succeeded. But my success, in the 
 long run, made me indiscreet. I fell, and great was the 
 fall thereof ! But it is some consolation to think that no 
 
87 
 
 THE STORY OF 'THE “ MOCK RAJAH.” 
 
 other person in this country, either before or since my 
 time, swindled the public with half so much grace and 
 ingenuity as your humble servant. Even my first at¬ 
 tempt at “ raising the wind,” as swindling is called in 
 Europe, was a masterpiece of ingenuity. 
 
 This is how I did it. I sent a confidential agent to 
 Benares to engage furnished apartments, the very best 
 available in the holy city—for a distinguished and noble 
 lady of rank. A Ranee in fact, who had been lately left 
 a widow, and was about to undertake a pilgrimage to the 
 most sacred shrine in India in accordance with Hindoo 
 custom on such occasions. My agent was successful. A 
 magnificent house, most gorgeously fitted up, was engaged 
 for three months. In due time the Ranee arrived, and, 
 was installed with all due ceremony. I acted the part of 
 Hewan or Prime Minister. The noble lady’s arrival was 
 signalised by a munificent act of charity. Thousands of 
 beo’o*ars were fed and hundreds of Brahmins were present- 
 ed with money and clothes. This was done through a 
 local agent appointed to carry out Her Highness’ wishes ; 
 of course on tick. The Ranee’s name and fame spread 
 throughout the city like wild fire. Her noble acts of 
 charity were the talk of every bathing ghat and poetical 
 effusions in her praise were chanted in every temple on 
 the banks of the sacred river. A deputation of the prin¬ 
 cipal Brahmins waited upon Her Highness with garlands 
 of flowers. I received them with all due ceremony in 
 the name of my illustrious mistress, and took this opportu¬ 
 nity of giving out that Her Highness proposed building a 
 marble temple to commemorate her pilgrimage to the holy 
 city. Before sundown that day the project was the talk 
 of the town. I took advantage of this circumstance to 
 notify in the varnacular papers that Her Highness the 
 
88 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 Ranee intended to build a magnificent marble temple on 
 a certain site on the sacred river approved of by ardeputa- 
 tion of the chief Brahmins of Benares, and called for plans 
 and specifications. It was further notified in the adver¬ 
 tisement that no tender for the construction of the temple 
 would be accepted unless accompanied by a deposit of 
 rupees ten thousand in currency notes as security, which 
 would be returned in the event of a tender being* rejected. 
 Within a fortnight of the appearance of this notification, 
 in the local papers, I had some thirty applications from 
 builders and contractors for the construction of the marble 
 temple, and a deposit at the local bank of rupees three 
 hundred thousand. In order to make the business look 
 straightforward and above board, I made each tenderer 
 deposit the amount of his own security in the bank in my 
 name and bring me the bank’s receipt. But this is not 
 all. I received in bribes from the different tenderers a 
 sum equal to fifty thousand rupees, to induce me to 
 exercise my influence with Her Highness to procure the 
 contract for the party who paid best. Heed I say that 
 each candidate went away believing himself to be the suc¬ 
 cessful tenderer. 
 
 While all this was going on the principal jewellers had 
 been induced to send in cases of the most costly gems for 
 Her Highness’s inspection. In this way property, in the 
 shape of jewellery, to the value of a lakh and n half of 
 rupees was got together. I 'row thought the time had 
 arrived when I might safely close on the fruits of my 
 honest industry. Accordingly I drew the security deposits 
 from the bank and cleared out, leaving Her Highness the 
 Ranee to account to my dupes for my absence. I had not 
 been missed, at least by the outside world, for two or 
 three days. But when my absence came to be noised 
 
THE STORY OF THE “ MOCK RAJAH.” 
 
 89 
 
 about tbe city, there was the devil to play! The Magis¬ 
 trate and the Superintendent of Police were besieged by 
 my dupes, who clamoured for vengeance and would not 
 be pacified. 
 
 The Ranee was interviewed by the two officials above- 
 named. They found her in tears. But she, poor thing, 
 knew no more about her late prime minister than the man 
 in the moon. “Then who are you pray?” queried the 
 •Magistrate. “Who am I?” repeated the Ranee between 
 her sobs ; “ why, I’m only one of the demi monde ! I be¬ 
 long to Lucknow. I was brought here by the man you 
 are enquiring after. He came to my lodgings one day ; 
 pretended to have fallen in love with me, and asked me 
 
 j 
 
 to accompany him. He told me he was a high caste 
 
 Brahmin and a man of substance, and that it would be 
 
 necessary for me to go to Benares where I would have to 
 
 undergo a ceremony of purification before he could marry 
 
 me. I believed all he told me and I agreed to accompany 
 
 him. I do not know frofii what part of India he came, 
 
 or even his name. He- was onlv known to me as the 
 
 «/ 
 
 k Brahmin.’ ” 
 
 This was all the information the representatives of the 
 law could get out of the Ranee. A warrant was accord¬ 
 ingly issued for the arrest of the “ Brahmin,” which was 
 never executed. 
 
 I next turned up in Calcutta as the Rajah of Humyun- 
 pore. But as nobody knew in what part of India 
 Humyimpore was situated my title was never called in 
 question. This is one of the advantages, to a man of my 
 profession, of having a vast empire for his happy hunting 
 ground. Few people ever learn its geography sufficiently 
 to be able to ask unpleasant or embarrassing questions. I 
 always pass muster for a pucca Rajah as long as I remain 
 
90 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 CovL _ N ^ 
 
 in & place. It is only after my departure the public dis¬ 
 cover their mistake. Then one party, the victimized, 
 exclaim : “ Who would have^ thought it: ” while another 
 section, the cautious, shake their'heads and say, “I always 
 thought there was somethings ‘ fishy ’ about that cus¬ 
 tomer ! ” 
 
 r-'' * “** 
 
 I will now proceed to tell you how I fared in the capital 
 of India. I engaged a splendid mansion in the suburbs, 
 fitted up and furnished in the best style. I made the 
 acquaintance of all the rank and wealth among the native 
 community in and around Calcutta,, more especially strang¬ 
 ers visiting the capital. I invited them to my suburban 
 villa and entertained them like princes. When my guests 
 were flushed with champagne^cards were introduced, and 
 we played till midnight; aye till morning frequently, at 
 my favourite game of “ beggar my neighbour.” 
 
 Had I stuck to“card sharping I might to this day have 
 been acting the “Rajah.” But my success made me in¬ 
 discreet. One of my guests—a ship-owner, and a very 
 prudent fellow, who had risen from nothing, could not be 
 induced to try his luck at cards. I therefore determined 
 to ease him o£ some of his superfluous cash ini another 
 line, more agreeable to his instincts—a commercial trans¬ 
 action. I accordingly sent for my friend one day and 
 proposed to charter three of his ships to carry rice to 
 Jedda. The project had all the appearance of a paying 
 transaction and the prudent speculator fell into the trap. 
 My terms were liberal, but one of the conditions was, that 
 he would deposit fifty thousand - rupees as security for 
 carrying out the contract. This he agreed to, and sent 
 the money by his sircar that same evening. I took the,,, 
 money and granted a receipt to this effect: “ Received 
 fifty thousand rupees in full settlement of a debt of honou-T 
 
THE STORY OF THE “ MOCK RAJAH.” 91 
 
 _ ~ A 
 
 < 
 
 viz., money lost at cards.” The rascal took the receipt 
 straight to Reid, the Detective Superintendent, to whom" 
 he explained the whole transaction. I was consequently 
 arrested on a charge of Swindling. I engaged the best- 
 counsel in Calcutta, and though I spent over a lakh of 
 rupees in law expenses, I was convicted and sentenced to 
 seven years rigorous imprisonment. 
 
 ^1 was not long in jail though. About a month after ray 
 sentence I was sent to attend on a bricklayer who was 
 engaged doing some repairs to the governor’s quarters, it- 
 was the winter months and the days were short. During* 
 the day/I observed a large bath tub turned upside down 
 in the bath-room. It struck me at once that this would 
 be a capital place to conceal onesself. Accordingly to¬ 
 wards evening I crept unobserved under the bath tub. 
 Here I lay till the small hours of the night. The gover¬ 
 nor had bepn dining out and did not return till after* 
 twelve o’clock. -When he came home he undressed and 
 went to bed. As sdin as he began to snore I crept out 
 from unden the tub, took off my jail clothes and got into 
 the governor’s, even to his patent leather boots and bell 
 topper. As I have/already said, the season was mid 
 winter, and it Was necessary in going out at night to 
 wear an overcoat and comforter. These garments quite 
 concealed my features and I had no difficulty whatever 
 in passing the sentry at the front gate unrecognised. In 
 fact he mistook me for the governor and sprang to atten¬ 
 tion a,s I approached. I returned the salute and passed 
 out into freedom! 
 
 Of course I had to give up the idea of playing at 
 Rajah” in British territory after this episode. I con¬ 
 sequently thought my safest course would be to seek 
 shelter and safety in a Native State. I made several trials 
 
92 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 since leaving British India to “raise the wind ” in my 
 professional line, but found it would’nt hog a. Nobody in 
 a Native State has got a rupee hut the Rajah himself, or 
 if he has, he is obliged to hide it in the earth and no¬ 
 thing will bring it out but the thumb screw. I had 
 therefore no other alternative in order to, live but join a 
 band of dacoits! 
 
 It is to these circumstances, my friends, you are indebt¬ 
 ed for the honour of having a Rajah amongst you to¬ 
 night. - . . • 
 
 A " > V 
 
 J k “ 
 
THE DAEOGAH’S STOEY. 
 
 93 
 
 > 
 
 C'll Al'TKIi X, 
 
 The darogah's stort. 
 
 i 
 
 The Mock Rajah having finished his narrative amidst 
 tremendous applause the chief called upon the darogak 
 .for the next story. He, accordingly, began in this man¬ 
 ner. 
 
 My name is Godroo Prossono Bidyaratana, which, being 
 interpreted, means “ Gem of learning.” My father, who 
 was only a poor moharir (writer) in the District Cob 
 lector’s Court had a great ambition to see his son a Deputy 
 Magistrate. I was consequently educated to this end, 
 As we were high caste Brahmins, my father by way of 
 adding to my prestige induced an assembly of pundits 
 (learned men) to bestow upon me the title of Bidyaratana 
 (gem of learning.) Under this cognomen, after I had 
 
94 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 finished my education, I was presented to the Collector. 
 But as there was, at the time, no opening for Deputy 
 Magistrate, I was induced to join the police as daroga. 
 This, the Collector observed, “ will give you an insight 
 into the working of the police force and make you ac¬ 
 quainted with the minor details of a Deputy Magistrate’s 
 duty.” I bowed acquiescence to the Collector’s advice, 
 and enterd on my new duties with a determination to gain 
 distinction even as a police daroga . 
 
 About a month after my appointment a friend of my 
 patron, for, like my countryman the Baboo, I believed in 
 climbing over other men’s shoulders to distinction, and 
 consequently clung to the protection of a patron—lost a 
 o’old watch and chain from a toilet table in his dressing 
 room. He wrote to the Collector reporting his loss. I 
 was sent for and ordered to take up the enquiry. “ Here 
 is a splendid chance of distinguishing myself ” thought I, 
 and I proceeded to the house of my patron’s friend and 
 instituted strict enquiries amongst the servants. Two days 
 spent in searching the premises for the missiag watch and 
 recording statements led to no tangible result. At last 
 I asked permission of the sahib to take the servants to 
 the thana (police station) for further investigation. The 
 gentleman acceded to my request and the whole of the 
 domestic establishment were arrested and conveved to 
 
 J 
 
 the station house. I put them all into one room and gave 
 them half an hour to consult amongst themselves, and 
 decide upon the advisability of giving up the culprit or 
 taking the consequence. In the meantime, I had a sack 
 stuffed with straw and placed in the adjoining room. At 
 the expiration of the half hour’s grace, I revisited the * 
 prisoners and enquired if they had made up their minds 
 about giving up the culprit? Ho one answered. So I 
 
95 
 
 THE DAROGAH’S STORY. 
 
 selected one of the number, the least likely man amongst 
 the lot to have committed the theft, and took him away, 
 saying, “ If I cannot induce you to denounce the culprit 
 by fair means I must do it by foul.” The man fell at my 
 feet and protested his innocence. I ordered two constables 
 to carry him to the torture chamber. The moment he 
 was removed I turned the key on the remaining prisoners. 
 
 Shortly afterwards the sound of flogging was heard 
 from the room adjoining the lockup and the voice of a 
 man, in extreme agony calling upon his gods for mercy! 
 
 But the louder the man cried the harder and quicker fell 
 the shower of blows. Till at last the voi(|e became fainter, 
 and ultimately ceased. Then the flogging stopped and 
 some one said loud enough to be heard by the prisoners 
 in the next room, “ He’s dead ! What will we do with 
 the body ? ” “ Oh ” said I “never mind. Take it away 
 
 and fling it down the well. He’ll never be missed. There 
 is no evidence of the crime. It is all amongst ourselves, 
 and I expect every man to be chup ! (silent). Dead men 
 tell no tales. It is much safer to kill them outright than 
 to leave them with evidence of torture on their body.” 
 The constables acquiesced and a noise was made as if 
 dragging the body away. One of the chowkidars remark¬ 
 ed, “How heavy dead men are.” “Yes,” returned I, 
 
 “ the devil enters into the body of a man who dies under 
 
 *-v • ^ 
 
 the lash rather than open his heart to the police to bring a 
 guilty person to justice, and doubles its normal weight. 
 His bhuta (ghost) has entered some mangy dog or other 
 unclean animal by this time.” 
 
 A few minutes after this Conversation a splash was £ 
 heard as if something had fallen into the well, which was 
 close to the lockup, and the constables returned and re¬ 
 ported to me that the body was disposed of. “Very 
 
96 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 good ” said I, “ we must get in another of the prisoners 
 and pnt him through the same process unless he has 
 prudence enough to save his own neck by peaching on the 
 others.” 
 
 Accordingly I re-entered the lockup and found the 
 prisoners huddled together in a corner nearly dead 
 with fright. Though it was mid winter, their clothes 
 were as wet from perspiration, as if they had been pulled 
 out of a tank ! One man was bleeding from the nose 
 through sheer funk ! “Well,” said I addressing the pri¬ 
 soners collectively, “ which do you prefer, keeping silent 
 or sharing the fate of your fellow servant ? ” To this 
 question one of the prisoners replied, joining his x hands 
 and beating the ground with his forehead, “ My crime has 
 already caused enough of mischief. I will not have the 
 blood of another innocent man to answer for. I stole the 
 watch and buried it in the garden beneath a rose tree. I 
 will point out the spot if you accompany me.” To this I 
 readily consented. I went with the accused to the place 
 indicated and recovered the watch. I took it, together 
 with the prisoner, to the sahib . He was delighted and 
 wrote to the Collector praising my detective ability. 
 After securing the culprit in hajat pending trial, I re¬ 
 turned to the ~tliana and released all the other prisoners 
 from custody with the exception of the man ordered to 
 the torture chamber. I wanted to create a further sur¬ 
 prise and consequently kept this man concealed for a few 
 hours. As I anticipated, the released prisoners went 
 straight from the thana to the Magistrate’s kutcherry and 
 accused me, upon oath, of beating one of their fellow ser¬ 
 vants to death in order to extort a confession and after¬ 
 wards throwing the body down a well. As the charge 
 was a very serious one, the Magistrate came to the thana 
 
97 
 
 Tn'f™IiAROG All’s STORY. 
 
 ■J* 
 
 lilmself to enquire into the matter. I, of course, produced 
 the missing man, he denied having been beaten or in any 
 way ill-treated by the police, and his body, which was 
 examined by the civil surgeon, bore no marks of violence. 
 The Magistrate was now satisfied that the charge against 
 me was a false and malicious one, and he ordered my 
 accusers to be criminally prosecuted. 
 
 I never told the Magistrate or the Collector, though, 
 that the noise my accusers heard from what I called the 
 torture chamber, was a chowkidar beating a sack stuffed 
 with straw ; or that the man who simulated the cries of 
 a prisoner on the rack was also one of my own constables. 
 
 This case proved very useful to me during my sub¬ 
 sequent career as police daroga. The sahibs would never 
 believe any complaint made against me by accused per¬ 
 sons ; or in fact, any of the criminal classes. I could, 
 therefore, just do as I liked. 
 
 I gained a great reputation in the police as the inventor 
 of several new and improved systems of torture. The 
 stuffed sack dodge is entirely the creation of my own 
 ingenious mind. It is called after me “ the Bidyaratana 
 system.” It is a system extremely safe to practice, you 
 may drive a man mad by it without leaving a scratch on 
 his body. What have the doctors to say to that ! Un¬ 
 fortunately it can only be practised once on the same 
 individual, so it is necessary to keep a register of the 
 criminals or accused persons who pass through the mill. 
 
 There is another system of torture, also of my own 
 invention, which is nearly as effective as the above, with 
 this advantage, that it may be practised any number of 
 times on the same person, and if properly done, it leaves 
 no marks. You tie down your man on a cnaTpoy (native 
 cot) with his feet projecting about three inches over the 
 
 7 
 
98 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 bottom rail. You tlien get a piece of half round seasoned 
 bamboo about eighteen inches long and commence beating 
 the soles of the feet. The strokes must be short and 
 sharp, but not too heavy. In this way you beat a man’s 
 fiesh below the surface into a jelly without leaving a 
 single external mark. It is very tedious, though. You 
 have to keep at it for hours. But the pain after the first 
 hour is agonising. I have known a man to die of lock 
 jaw after one of these beatings, and the doctor who made 
 the post-mortem examination could not account for the 
 cause of death. The police surgeon’s investigation seldom 
 or ever extends below the trunk of the body. It is prin¬ 
 cipally confined to the brain, heart, lungs, liver, and 
 spleen. I noticed this particularly during my police ex¬ 
 perience and took my measures accordingly. I never 
 marked my subject above the soles of the feet.. 
 
 There are several other forms of torture practised by 
 the police, but these, with one exception, are only resorted 
 to by men who do not understand their business. The 
 exception is “ cupping the navel.” You procure a large 
 black beetle and place it under an inverted cup directly 
 over the navel. The sensation produced, if your subject 
 is a green horn, is simply maddening. You fancy the 
 creature is burrowing into your entrails. But old hands 
 get used to “ cupping the navel ” and don’t mind it in 
 the least. 
 
 The most ordinary and common mode of torture prac¬ 
 tised by the police to extort confession is that of tying 
 up an accused person to a beam or rafter by the thumbs. 
 The body is drawn up until the toes just touch the ground. 
 The pain is most excruciating, and the unfortunate victim 
 very often goes off into a faint. He is then let down and 
 water dashed in his face. On recovering consciousness 
 
THE DAROGAS’S STORY. 
 
 99 
 
 he is swung up again unless he confesses what is required 
 of him. It is needless to say that under such treatment 
 many innocent men admit committing the crimes of which 
 they are accused and go to jail, rather than suffer the 
 horrors of the torture chamber. A man who has suffered 
 this mode of torture once or twice becomes a marked man 
 ever after. His thumbs get disfigured and become ball¬ 
 shaped at the ends. The natural nails are cast off and 
 deformed corrugated nails take their place. From these 
 signs a smart police officer will always be able to recognise 
 an old offender. 
 
 How, my dear friends, I have let you into the secret of 
 how my countrymen, the Bengalis, have gained the reputa¬ 
 tion of being smart police officers. They resort to torture 
 as a substitute for detective ability. Take this engine of 
 oppression away from them ; give them no opportunity of 
 manufacturing false evidence, and the Bengali becomes 
 the worst policeman in the world. He has not the energy 
 or courage necessary for real honest police duty. 
 
 I was considered a model detective. Here is how I was 
 outwitted by a man who had no police training or experi¬ 
 ence whatever. But he had what I wanted, keen observa¬ 
 tion. He could scent danger afar off, and single out an 
 enemy in the midst of a crowd. These are some of the 
 qualities that go to make up the ideal detective. But 
 these qualities are strangers to the Bengali. In craft, 
 subtility, and low cunning my countrymen can shame the 
 devil. But a higher order of intellect is required for 
 Scotland Yard. 
 
 How for my story. I was selected by my superior to 
 proceed to Chandbally to watch the doings on board a 
 certain passenger steamer at that port. The steamei 
 agents in Calcutta received certain information that their 
 
100 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 people in charge of the vessel were in the habit of defraud¬ 
 ing the Company by accounting for less passengers than 
 were actually carried. In other words, the steamer was 
 registered to accommodate a certain number of people; 
 this number was frequently exceeded and the servants of 
 the Company, so it was said, pocketed the excess fare. My 
 duty was to travel occasionally as an ordinary passenger 
 and count the number of people on board. This was to 
 be done in such a manner as not to attract notice. Behold 
 I had not been many hours on board when the man whose 
 doings I had been sent to watch was busy watching my 
 movements! He had never seen me before. But he 
 singled me out from amongst the crowd as a person not to 
 be trusted. What he saw in me or my movements differ¬ 
 ent from any of the other passengers, I could never find 
 out. But one thing is certain, he ought to have been in 
 my place. He was a detective formed by nature’s own 
 cunning’ hand. The knowledge that I was being watched 
 made me uncomfortable, so in order to avoid attracting 
 attention I sat down on deck and began to smoke my 
 hubble-bubble. I had my bundle, like any other passenger, 
 by my side. When the steamer came to the landing ghat 
 I was still seated smoking. I got up and followed the 
 crowd on shore. The moment I had crossed the gangway 
 I was collared by two constables, and ordered to open my 
 bundle, I felt indignant at what I considered an insult 
 and made some show of resistance. I was obliged, how. 
 ever, to yield and show what I had got with me. The sight 
 fairly took my breath away! Some one had secreted, 
 evidently when I was seated on deck enjoying my hubble- 
 bubble , some articles belonging to the steamer in my 
 bundle. I was charged with theft and sent before the 
 Magistrate for trial. The strongest point against me was 
 
THE DAROGAH’S STORY. 
 
 101 
 
 refusing to open my bundle at the ghat when requested 
 to do so. I was convicted and sentenced to undergo three 
 months’ rigorous imprisonment. My sahib did everything 
 in his power to get me released. He even went up to 
 Government for the purpose. But Government would 
 not interfere with the sentence and directed him to apply 
 to the High Court. This of course he was loath to do as 
 it would expose the weakness of the police. So I had to 
 serve out my time in jail. All my hopes of becoming a 
 Deputy Magistrate were now at an end. I was ashamed 
 to return to my friends and associates when released. I 
 took to evil courses and drifted from bad to worse until 
 at last I was. obliged to flee from British India and seek 
 safety in a native State. It is to these circumstances, my 
 friends, you are indebted for the honour of sharing the 
 company of the celebrated Bidyaratana, or the “ gem of 
 learning.” 
 
 At the conclusion of the darogcts story the chief rose 
 and announced to the assembled dacoits that the famous 
 Tantia Bhil had fallen into the hands of the Philistines 
 at last. The new's was received with grief and dismay by 
 every one present. Solomon Christian stood up and said, 
 “ Gentlemen, this is the first time in my life that I have 
 had cause to regret being a Protestant convert. Had I 
 been made a good Catholic instead I would have had 
 three masses said for our famous brother Tantia.” Hear! 
 hear ! and applause from the company which then broke 
 up for the night. 
 
102 
 
 KNAVERY unmasked 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE STORY OF A PROFESSIONAL THUG. 
 
 The darogd having finished his interesting narrative, 
 for which he received a hearty round of applause , the 
 chief called upon Charan Das for the next story; who, 
 accordingly, very cheerfully began in this manner. 
 
 I am a thug by profession and the son of a thug by de¬ 
 scent. The Grand Trunk Road, in the good old days 
 before the snort of the iron horse was heard in the land 
 of the Orient, was my happy hunting ground. Of all the 
 free and independent professions of life that of the thug is 
 the most exciting. No sportsman ever followed game with 
 half the relish that a thug stalks his victim. That proverb 
 which our friend, the Baboo, was taught in his youth, and 
 which made such a deep impression on his mind, “Walk 
 
THE STORY OF A PROFESSIONAL THUG. 
 
 103 
 
 twenty miles to serve tlie man yon intend to ruin ” must 
 have originated from a professional thug. I have often 
 walked forty miles to serve the man I intended to strangle 
 Bore him company, amused him witlf anecdotes, offered 
 him pan , shared my food with him and even washed his 
 feet at the end of our journey. If any victims could re¬ 
 turn from the land of Hades they would tell you that the 
 pleasantest journey they ever undertook was in the com¬ 
 pany of a professional thug. So courteous, so gracious, 
 so obliging, so full of wit and humour are the thugs , as a 
 class, that, like certain poisonous snakes—the cobra for 
 instance—they fascinate their intended victim before 
 making their deadly spring. Taylor Sahib of the Thuggee 
 Department has made a pretence of giving to the world 
 the “ Confessions of a Thug.” The whole story is a gigan¬ 
 tic hoax! Ho thug ever revealed the real secrets of his 
 profession to any living being outside his own caste and 
 calling. A real thug would suffer himself to be hanged, 
 drawn and quartered before he would break the oath of 
 secrecy to which he is bound to his order. Colonel Mea¬ 
 dows Taylor’s “ Confessions of a Thug ” are mere fictions 
 of quacks and pretenders. 
 
 The young thug is taught the secrets of the art at a 
 very early age. His father prepares a man of straw for 
 the son to practice upon. The lad is then instructed how 
 to introduce himself to a stranger; how to cajole him; 
 how to insinuate himself into his confidence without excit¬ 
 ing or awakening suspicion; how to ascertain his business ; 
 his destination; the amount of property on his person; 
 his caste; his habits ; whether he eats opium or smokes 
 ganja. And when all these particulars are committed to 
 memory the young thug is taught how to spring upon his 
 victim; how to “ noose ” him; how to bring him to the 
 
104 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 ground face downwards ; liow to secure a firm footing on 
 his back; bow to fasten tbe knees below bis sboulder- 
 blades in order to gain a better purchase to tighten up 
 the “ noose ” on the neck ; and as the last death quiver 
 agitates the body of the expiring victim, the thug offers up 
 a prayer of thangsgiving to the gods, appropriates the 
 property of the deceased, and departs to fresh fields and 
 pastures green. 
 
 It is a generally-received opinion amongst the official 
 class in British India that the extermination of the thugs 
 is due to the exertions of the Thuggee Department. No¬ 
 thing is more fallacious. The railways have done more 
 to make thuggee a non-paying profession than all the 
 police in India. Men worth robbing don’t now travel by 
 road. They use the railway. And the thugs in conse¬ 
 quence have been starved out. But if the railways have 
 done so much towards the extermination of the thugs they 
 have opened up new opportunities to the enterprising 
 “ speculator ” to enrich himself at much less risk than 
 that of strangling a man for his property. I would lay a 
 wager that more men now live by their wits on the East 
 Indian Bailway than used to exist by thuggee on the 
 Grand Trunk Boad before the existence of railways. 
 What do you think of that, my friends, in the face of our 
 advanced civilisation ? 
 
 I’ll tell you how the trick is done, at least how I used 
 to do it after I had given up thuggee as a non-paying pro¬ 
 fession. Provided with a neatly done-up bundle, the 
 contents of which is of little or no value, I make my way 
 to a railway station about an hour or so before the train 
 is due to start. Here I find two or three hundred in¬ 
 tending passengers seated in the third-class waiting room 
 From this number I select a likely victim. Take stock of 
 
THE STORY OP A PROFESSIONAL THUG. 
 
 105 
 
 the size and make np of his bundle, and the colour of the 
 wrapper. This done, I retire to a quiet corner and make 
 up my bundle exactly like my friend’s to all external 
 appearance. I then sit down and wait patiently for the 
 ticket bell to ring and in the meantime enjoy a quiet pull 
 at the hubble-bubble. When the ticket bell sounds there 
 is a general rush to the booking office. I keep well in 
 rear of, but close to my game. I hear him name the 
 station to which he is travelling, so I book for the same 
 place. Having obtained my ticket, I follow my man into 
 the same carriage and place my bundle under the same 
 seat. How it sometimes happens that an opportunity 
 offers to exchange bundles and clear out before the dis¬ 
 
 
 
 
 
 tance for which you have taken a ticket is covered. Your 
 victim may drop off to sleep, or get out at a station to 
 answer a call of nature. These opportunities should al¬ 
 ways be taken advantage of. I was ever on the look out 
 for favourable moments to make off with my booty and 
 invariably succeeded. However, if no such chance pre¬ 
 sents itself, and you have to follow your game for the 
 whole distance booked, the best plan is to endeavour to 
 make the two bundles change places. This can be done 
 with the feet without attracting the notice of the owner, 
 and the moment the door of the carriage is opened in the 
 terminal station, pick up your victim’s bundle and mix 
 with the crowd on the platform. The chances are your 
 man is not in a very great hurry and waits till the rush 
 is over before he leaves the vehicle. Then if he should 
 notice the mistake, it is too late to rectify it, or if he is a 
 little impatient and forces his way out in the general 
 crush, he picks up the wrong bundle and carries it away 
 without noticing the exchange until it is beyond remedy. 
 It may so happen that the victimized individual, before 
 
106 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 you get clear of the station premises, will raise an alarm 
 and you are collared by the railway police or one of the 
 station staff. In that case your best plan is to plead mis¬ 
 take, pointing out the resemblance the two bundles bear 
 to each other, and offer to exchange with many apologies. 
 This generally satisfies all parties. Should, however, the 
 aggrieved person press the charge, no magistrate will con¬ 
 vict, on seeing the two bundles compared. This, you will 
 admit, is a much safer profession to follow than thuggee. 
 
 The best game to follow in these kind of cases is a 
 Calcutta durwan going home to his country to be married. 
 His bundle is sure to be well stocked with rich clothes 
 and ornaments for his intended bride. These are the 
 game to stalk on the up journey. But on the down trip 
 the rich hunniah and the hoyar offer most attraction. 
 
 While engaged in this business I came across an old 
 “ chum ” with whom I had worked in concert in the 
 thuggee line. He was returning home by rail to enjoy the 
 fruits of his honest industry. He had secured, he assured 
 me, quite an independence for life. “ What ” exclaimed 
 I, in astonishment, “ then thuggee is not played out after 
 all ?” “ Ah ” returned my friend, “ I have given up 
 
 thuggee long ago. I made my pile as a professional poi¬ 
 soner.” “ But ” said I, “ if the railways have ruined 
 thuggee and rendered it a non-paying business would it 
 not have the same effect on the professional poisoner ? 
 Both trades depend upon meeting with rich travellers, 
 and as men with capital don’t walk on foot in these days 
 of rapid and cheap travelling no one worth poisoning is 
 left on the Queen’s highway.” “ That is true ” returned 
 my friend “ if ajDplied to our old hunting ground, the 
 Grand Trunk Boad. But I stumbled upon a rich vein of 
 country, quite by accident I assure you. If you want to 
 
THE STORY OP A PROFESSIONAL THUG. 
 
 107 
 
 make a fortune in a twelvemonth and retire, as I am do¬ 
 ing, to marry and settle down for life, you could not do 
 better than take up the run that I have just left.” 
 
 I told my friend that I would be delighted to do so and 
 asked him to let me into the secret, this is his story. 
 
 “ After giving up thuggee I made a pilgrimage to Pooree, 
 for the thugs are professionally a religious people. While 
 there I had my eyes opened to the fortune that was to be 
 made on the road between Cuttack and the sacred city- 
 The country for miles in every direction is one vast 
 Golgotha. Dead bodies are met with everywhere. From 
 the inns by the wayside may be heard every hour of the 
 day and night the groans of dying men and women. 
 Cholera takes oft thousands of pilgrims every year. How 
 it struck me at once, as it would any sensible man with 
 an eye to business, that poisoning by arenic and cholera 
 exhibit the same symptoms. In both cases griping pains 
 are developed followed by purging and vomiting. “ Here/ 
 said I to myself, ‘ is the very place where a man of my 
 profession can carry on his trade in peace and safety. 
 Half-a-dozen of dead bodies found under a tree will excite 
 no suspicion. Every case of poisoning will be put down 
 to cholera. Even the victims themselves will attribute 
 their symptoms to every cause but the right one.’ ” 
 
 “ But stay, there is another secret I must put you in 
 possession of. Secure your game on the road to the sacred 
 city. If you let the priests get hold of them first they 
 will not leave you a single bird worth plucking. Bear 
 this in mind whatever you do. So now I will say ‘ salam ’ 
 and hope when we next meet I will see you as rich as I 
 am at this present moment.” Here I took leave of my 
 friend, went to a rest-house close by • lit my hubble-bubble 
 and had a long and tranquilizing smoke. I pondered 
 
108 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 deeply over what I had just heard. My deliberations 
 resulted in a determination to visit Pooree and to Pooree 
 I went. I spent some days in looking about me before 
 commencing operations. I visited the “Holy Field” and 
 all the temples in the neighbourhood. I passed through 
 the great pagoda, and saw the “ Lord of the world ; ” His 
 sister “ Subhadra.” The image of each is a rudely con¬ 
 structed, ill-shapen wooden bust, about six feet in height. 
 
 The image of Jagannath is painted white, that of 
 Balaram black and of Subhadra yellow. The arms of 
 Jagannath are mere stumps, while his divine sister has 
 not even the sign of an arm. On the whole the great 
 world lord and his brother and sister are the most hideous 
 of all the gods in the Hindoo Pantheon. But though the 
 ugliest they are the most devoutly worshipped by all good 
 Hindoos. 
 
 I arrived at the sacred city on the day of the Snan 
 Yatra or the bathing festival. The image of Jagannath 
 was brought out from the temple in great state by the 
 priests and placed in an open terrace amidst the deafen¬ 
 ing shouts of a hundred thousand voices. Water was 
 then poured on the head of the deity while the priests 
 chanted texts from their sacred books and the multitude 
 of pilgrims shouted Jaya Jagannath! Jaya Jagannath! 
 Victory to Jagannath ! Victory to Jagannath ! After the 
 bathing ceremony, the idol is presented with rich offerings 
 by innumerable votaries. He is then taken back to the 
 temple. 
 
 The next great festival of Jagannath is the “ Bath a 
 Yatra ” or car festival. This takes place in June or July. 
 The three idols of Jagannath! Balaram and Subhadra 
 are brought out from the temple and placed on rathas or 
 cars. These cars are huge vehicles five storeys high, with 
 
THE STORY OP A PROFESSIONAL THUG. 
 
 109 
 
 immense wheels, numerous turrets, figures and other 
 decorations. The car of Jagannath is 50 feet high and 
 rests upon 16 wheels each 7 feet in diameter. The car 
 has a platform 40 feet square. The vehicles which convey 
 Jagannatli’s divine brother and sister are not so large as 
 that of the Great World Lord himself. But they are huge 
 vehicles all the same. The ceremony of placing the idols 
 in the cars is performed in the presence of hundreds of 
 thousands of spectators. It is impossible to describe 
 the enthusiasm of the pilgrims on this occasion. From 
 myriads of throats issue Jay a Jagannath! Jaya Jagan¬ 
 nath! accompanied by beating of tom toms and the * 
 sounding of horns, trumpets, &c. 
 
 The idols during this festival are supplied with arms, 
 hands, feet and ears of solid gold, and diamond eyes. The 
 moment I saw this gratifying sight, I gave up all idea of 
 turning professional poisoner. I determined to enrich 
 myself by stripping the idols, and set about forming plans 
 for the enterprise. I sat up all night thinking the matter 
 over. The gods would remain eight days in their cars 
 and within that period, I thought, there would be no 
 difficulty in maturing plans which would lead to success¬ 
 ful results. The idols were well guarded both day and 
 night and the undertaking was perilous in the extreme. 
 Nevertheless I had made up my mind for the venture and 
 no danger or difficulty would deter me from my purpose. 
 At last I came to a decision while out taking observations 
 one night. I noticed that a number of goats, kept for sacri¬ 
 ficial purpose, used to take shelter under the cars. 
 
 “ That’s how I must gain admittance ” said I to myself, 
 and I walked to my domicile and set about making the 
 necessary preparations. I incased my body in the skin of 
 a large goat and at midnight started on all fours, during 
 
110 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 a heavy downpour of rain, for the cars. I reached them in 
 safety and mounted to the idols. I commenced operations 
 by extracting the eyes, which consisted of large diamonds. 
 These I put into my mouth for safety. I next annexed 
 the gold hands, arms, ears, &c., of the idols and prepared 
 to depart. I had as much solid gold _as I could carry, 
 indeed more than was consistent with my safety, unfor¬ 
 tunately. For, on letting myself down from one of the 
 turrets I missed my footing and fell with a thud to the 
 ground. The guards hearing the noise ran to the spot 
 and collared me. In the fright I swallowed the diamonds. 
 The priests were then wohe up and' I was made over to 
 the custody of the police. Everything'was recovered ex¬ 
 cept the eyes of the idols. These r I denied knowiug 
 anything about. In the morning a police sahib came to 
 investigate the matter, and wdien he heard about the dia¬ 
 monds being missing be ordered me an emetic. I refused 
 to take it, force was used, but it was no use they-c<3tdd 
 not get me to swallow the medicine. So I was tied down 
 on a charjooy (native cot) and given an injection instead. 
 The diamonds were recovered. I was then ordered to be 
 kept in the police lock up pending, enquires regarding 
 my antecedents. During the night following my arrest 
 I pretended to want to answer a call of nature, and 
 asked a chowkeedar on duty to take me to the closet', . 
 which was on the opposite side of the thana compound. r 
 To this request he was obliged to comply. On the way 
 I sprang upon him as I used to spring upon my victims 
 when following the profession of a thug, “ noosed ” him 
 and brought him to the ground in tho twinkling of an 
 eye. I then made my escape. There was a large reward * 
 offered for my recapture. But I left British India and 
 bid defiance to the myrmidons of the law. So here I 
 
 
THE STORY OP A PROFESSIONAL THUG. 
 
 Ill 
 
 am in a free country, amongst a free people, where every 
 man may do as he likes as long as he keeps in with the 
 officials. 
 
 r'' 
 
 / 
 
 
 
 l 
 
 x 
 
 
 
 H 
 
 
 r 
 
 
 
 
112 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 THE PIR’S STORY. 
 
 The Thug having ended his narrative, amid tremendous 
 applause, the chief next called upou Golam Imaum to 
 continue the entertainment: now Golam Imaum- was 
 known amongst his friends as the pir (alchemist), con¬ 
 sequently his story was looked forward to with as much 
 interest as that of the thug and when he rose in obedience 
 to his chief’s command, and took up his position in the 
 centre of the assembled free-booters, he was received with 
 a perfect ovation. He thus began :— 
 
 I am a son of the great pir of Patna. My father, who 
 had the reputation of possessing supernatural powers, fell 
 a victim to the fury and superstition of the people during 
 the great famine of 1873. He had a quarrel with a 
 
THE PIR’S STORY. 
 
 113 
 
 zemindar (landlord), and out of revenge was supposed to 
 have used his influence with the gods to bring about a 
 season of great scarcity in order to prevent the raiyats 
 (cultivators) paying rent to his enemy. How this story 
 originated was never known, but when the people began 
 to feel the pinch of poverty each one cast abroad for the 
 cause of the dire calamity, and as nothing more probable 
 presented itself to the popular mind than my father’s 
 quarrel with the landlord, he fell a victim to their fury. 
 Our house was burned and razed to the ground. All my 
 father’s books and manuscripts relating to magic and 
 alchemy perished in the general ruin. My mother and 1 
 alone escaped. She fled with me to Lucknow, where we 
 found a home and friends amongst our own people. 
 
 When I became a man I adopted the profession of my 
 forefathers, and set up as a Fir. Young as I was when 
 my father’s misfortune reduced us to dependence and 
 poverty, 1 remembered one of his wise sayings, namely, 
 
 4 A prophet is not without honour save amongst his own 
 kindred and people,’ and patting me on the head cares¬ 
 singly, he would say, “ How my good little boy, when you be¬ 
 come a man deck yourself out in a mysterious^i^b, assume 
 a grave face, a foreign accent, and profess to work mira¬ 
 cles. Believe me, there is no limit to human credulity so 
 long as you preserve your incognito and the secrets of 
 your profession.” 
 
 Acting upon this advice, I resolved, after completing 
 the necessary outfit, to try my prentice hand on the well- 
 to-do merchants and traders of the capital of India ; and 
 bent my steps for that famous city. I had not been long 
 in Calcutta when an opportunity offered of putting my 
 ingenuity to the test. A retired merchant who lived in a 
 garden house in the suburbs had been on a pilgrimage, 
 8 
 
114 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 and during his absence had shut up his house and dis¬ 
 missed his domestic establishment. On his return he 
 found the house had been broken into by thieves and a 
 large amount of property carried off. After consulting 
 with some of his neighbours he was induced to seek the 
 advice of the great Fir, as I was called, Accordingly the 
 victim bent his steps towards my abode. I had been 
 drawing magic circles on the floor of my hut when the 
 retired merchant entered, and appeared too much absorbed 
 to notice his presence. After waiting a short time and 
 coughing—once or twice to attract my attention, with¬ 
 out success, he grew impatient and thus began :— 
 
 “ Oh ! great sage, I have been robbed!” 
 
 “ I know it,” replied I, without looking up. “ I am just 
 tracing the absconding thieves.” 
 
 “ Great heavens !” exclaimed the victim, “ you cannot 
 possibly be aware of my misfortune, for I have only just 
 discovered it myself.” 
 
 “ 0 yes,” I made answer, “ there is no secret hidden 
 from a master of my profession, and I flatter myself 1 
 have thoroughly mastered the principles of my art.” 
 
 “ Then you can assist me to discover the thieves and 
 recover the property ” queried the victim brightening 
 up. 
 
 “ Undoubtedly,” replied I. “ But we had better proceed 
 to the scene of the burglary and take up the chase from 
 the point where the fox broke cover.” 
 
 The retired merchant led the w~ay to his residence. 
 
 “ I trust nothing has been moved since the crime was 
 discovered,” said I, as we entered the house. 
 
 “ Absolutely nothing,” replied the retired merchant. 
 
 “Because,” said I, “much depends on a careful study 
 of the surroundings.” 
 
THE PIE’S STORY. 
 
 115 
 
 The first thing that met onr view on entering the house 
 was a large teak-wood box which moved on fonr wheels. 
 The lid, though of immense strength and firmly secured, 
 had been burst open and the contents ransacked. “ It 
 was from that box,” sobbed the victim, melting into tears, 
 
 “ all my money and valuables were stolen.” I commenced 
 my investigations by measuring a square inch of the 
 dust-covered lid of the box. I next scraped together all 
 the dust within the measured inch with a feather and put 
 it very carefully into a pair of scales in order to ascertain 
 its weight. “ Let me see,” said I, making a calculation 
 and drawing magic circles on the floor. “ Dust settles at 
 the rate of 678,947,385th of an inch per hour. It is 
 therefore exactly 84 hours, or three and-a-half days since 
 the burglary was committed, or, say about midnight on 
 Sunday last.” 
 
 “ Dear me !” exclaimed the retired merchant, drawing 
 bis hand across his eyes and emitting a snivel and a sigh. 
 “ How wonderful! It was on Sunday night I dreamed 
 robbers were breaking into my house, and now that you 
 put me in mind of it, I woke up in a fright and behold 
 it was just twelve o’clock !” 
 
 Proceeding into the back verandah I came across three 
 plantain leaves, I pointed them out to the retired mer¬ 
 chant with the remark, “ This is where the robbers 
 refreshed themselves after committing the burglary and 
 before starting on their journey. You see there were 
 three of them ! One was an old man and a Brahmin, the 
 other two were young and low caste men. 
 
 “ Good gracious!” exclaimed the retired merchant, 
 “ but how do you know that!” 
 
 “ You see,” said I, “ all the pepper corns and improper¬ 
 ly cooked musallak are carefully collected and placed in 
 
116 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 one corner of tills plantain leaf. Only an old man with¬ 
 out teeth would do that. The night was evidently windy 
 and the old man prevented the plaintain leaf from blow¬ 
 ing away or curling up over his food by keeping his left 
 hand pressed down upon it while he eat with his right. 
 See the mark of the five fingers on the plantain leaf. 
 Only a Brahmin would do that. The other two plaintain 
 leaves were held in their place by the feet of the robbers 
 during the time they were eating. See the impression of 
 the toes of both feet on each leaf. Only low caste men 
 would do that. Besides there is not a scrap of the repast 
 left on either plantain leaf. Only young men would lick 
 their platters so clean.” 
 
 The retired merchant beat his head after the Oriental 
 fashion and exclaimed “ Shabash! shabasJi /” (Well done ! 
 well done !) 
 
 “ After the repast the robbers divided the spoil over 
 which they had a quarrel,” I continued. 
 
 “ But how can you tell that ?” queried the retired mer¬ 
 chant. “You will observe,” said I, “that the parties 
 commenced to smoke after their repast. While thus 
 engaged they began to deliberate on the division of the 
 booty. The man who was smoking at the time was dis¬ 
 satisfied with the arrangement and clashed down the 
 hookah on the floor with great force freaking the bowl 
 into pieces and scattering about the contents. That the 
 breaking of the hookah occurred after the repast is evident 
 from the fact that some fragments of the broken bowl are 
 scattered over the plantain leaves.” This revelation 
 elicited another exclamation of “ Shabash! shabash /” from 
 the retired merchant. 
 
 I next pointed out some figures drawn on the ground 
 with a piece of charcoal. “ Let me see,” said I, as I began 
 
the pir’s story. 
 
 117 
 
 to work out tlie figures. “ Yes, this,” pointing to the 
 figure at the head of the column, “just represents the 
 fare by rail to Benares, and this sum, multiplied by three, 
 represents the sum of the fares for the three robbers to 
 the same place. They had evidently squared their dif¬ 
 ferences before parting and all three started for Benares, 
 where they will dispose of the gold and silver orna¬ 
 ments.” 
 
 “ Great heavens!” exclaimed the retired merchant, 
 quite bewildered. “Are you a magician?” 
 
 “Yes ” replied I. “I have added the science of magic 
 to my other accomplishments.” 
 
 “ What do you now propose I should do to arrest the 
 robbers and recover my property ?” queried the retired 
 merchant. 
 
 “ Why, of course,” replied I, “ send me off at once in 
 pursuit. Let me see. It will require five hundred 
 rupees, for personal expenses, bribes to the police, and 
 other incidental charges, to bring back the fugitives. 
 Hand this amount over to me, and I start for the holy 
 city by the first train.” 
 
 The proposal was agreed to and the money paid “ down 
 on the nail.” “ Mind,” said I as I left the presence of 
 the retired merchant, “ keep this matter a profound secret, 
 till you hear fromime again !” The victim promised com¬ 
 pliance, but up till this day he has been nursing the 
 “ secret ” in silence and watching for my return, an event 
 never likely to happen. When the old follow is next 
 visited by robbers I guess he’ll apply to Lambert or my 
 friend Hogg for assistance and shun pirs and magicians 
 as he would poison. 
 
 My next adventure was with the gomasta of a native 
 firm in Cotton-street, Burra Bazar. We first met at a 
 
 
118 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 bathing-ghat on the Strand where I had been exhibiting 
 to an admiring and astonished crowd the process of con¬ 
 verting copper into gold; I singled ont from amongst the 
 spectators the gomasta, as a likely victim, and thus ad¬ 
 dressed him : 
 
 “Well, Baboojee, do you want me to double your 
 worldly possessions for you ?” 
 
 “ Unfortunately I have no worldly possessions to double,” 
 replied the Baboo, “ I have only debts, and they are 
 large enough already.” 
 
 “ That is a pity,” continued I, “ but I may be able to 
 assist you to clear off your debts.” 
 
 “ Oh ! Sir ” exclaimed the Baboo, brimming over with 
 delight, “ if you will do that I will pray for you on the 
 bosom of holy Gunga every day of my life; I am now 
 twenty-five years of age, and I have not been once mar¬ 
 ried in all these years owing to my indebtedness.” 
 
 “ Poor fellow,” said I, “ I feel for you very much. 
 What is your profession ?” 
 
 “ I am a poor clerk, sir, on rupees ten per month,” 
 returned the Baboo. 
 
 “ And who are your employers ?” was my next ques¬ 
 tion. 
 
 “Wealthy cloth merchants,” the Baboo made answer. 
 
 “Very good, I suppose you have access to your em¬ 
 ployers’ till occasionally,” I continued compassionately. 
 
 “ Oh yes, sir,” was the prompt reply. “ My employers 
 have great confidence in my honesty.” 
 
 “Just so. Then why not bring me, say, 
 hundred. I’ll convert it into a thousand befor 
 You can then restore the money to your master’s till and 
 nobody will be the wiser, while you will be five hundred 
 rupees a richer man than you now are.” 
 
 rupees five 
 
 &UA. 
 
 ? y#ar eyes. 
 
119 
 
 THE PIR’S STORY. 
 
 The bait took, the Baboo fell into the trap. Late that 
 same evening he stole into my private domicile with five 
 Government of India currency notes tied up very care¬ 
 fully in his waist cloth. At first he seemed rather 
 reluctant to produce them, and timidly enquired how 
 much the operation would cost him. I assured him 
 that I never accepted a single dumree from any one 
 for my services. “ What is the use of money to me,” 
 said I, “a man who can convert copper into gold has no 
 occasion to sell his services at so much per hour.” The 
 disinterested assurance restored the Baboo’s confidence, 
 and the notes were at once produced. 
 
 I commenced operations by folding the notes up in nine 
 wrappers. In magic nine is a charmed number. This 
 done I carefully sealed the outside wrapper, and then 
 performed a mysterious ceremony over the package. 
 During the ceremony, by a juggler’s trick I substituted 
 the package containing the notes for another precisely 
 similar in appearance made up of waste paper. This I 
 handed over to the dupe, told him to take it home, place 
 it under his pillow, and go to sleep. When he awoke the 
 next morning to break the seal and he would find ten Gov¬ 
 ernment currency notes of one hundred rupees each. The 
 Baboo took the package, and after promising to pray for 
 me on the bosom of holy Gunga every day of his life, 
 hurried away, while I immediately set about shifting my 
 quarters to another part of the city. 
 
 My next adventure was with a rich zemindar of Behar. 
 I had been staying at a place called Sasseram, a town on 
 the Grand Trunk Road, rendered famous as the burial 
 place of Shere Shah and Selim, where the splendour of 
 my equipage, a private palki carried by four stalwart 
 bearers gorgeously attired, attracted a good deal of atten¬ 
 tion. While out one morning inspecting the celebraed 
 
120 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 tombs of the place I accidentally met with the headman 
 or zemindar. We entered into conversation and were 
 soon interested in each other’s history, I saw in my new 
 acquaintance a likely victim. He had heard, he said, a 
 a good deal about Pirs and their wonderful powers, and 
 would like to hear and know more. The result was I 
 was invited to share his hospitality during my stay at 
 Sasseram. I accepted the invitation with thanks and 
 accompanied the zemindar to his house. It is needless to 
 say my entertainment was all that could be desired. I 
 was treated by the whole household with the respect due 
 to a great sage. “ Now, master,” said my host one day as 
 we were seated on a divan, sipping sherbet, “ they tell 
 me that anything you touch turns into gold. Is that 
 so ?” 
 
 “ My son,” said I, “ you need not believe all you hear 
 people say of me. You must be content to see and judge 
 for yourself.” 
 
 “ Behold, while we were thus speaking the silver cup, 
 that stood on the divan between us turned to gold ! I 
 managed by a juggler’s trick to exchange it unnoticed 
 while my host was settling his cushions. “ Alla ! Alla! ” 
 exclaimed the astonished zemindar when he noticed the 
 change. 
 
 “Hush!” said I, “or you will alarm the household. 
 I never make a parade of my wonderful powers. But in 
 return for your kind hospitality, I intend before we part 
 to show you that the wise can make even the spirits of 
 the invisible world obedient to their will.” 
 
 “ Oh ! master,” continued my host, “ if you will teach 
 me the principles of your art, I will give you all I 
 possess.” 
 
 “ I will teach you, my son,” replied I, “ the secret of 
 
THE PIR’S STORY. 
 
 121 
 
 commanding untold wealth, but I cannot accept any re¬ 
 muneration in return. My knowledge is not for sale, it 
 cannot be purchased with silver or gold.” 
 
 This declaration on my part paved the way to the 
 zemindar’s confidence. It was made quite clear to him 
 that I had no mercenary motives, and this difficulty 
 mastered, the rest was all plain sailing. I represented 
 that before enlisting a new disciple, it was necessary to 
 ask advice from heaven, “ Because ” said I, “ it would be 
 an unpardonable offence against Alla to impart the secrets 
 of our art to an unworthy disciple. I then took from a 
 mysterious recess of the casket supposed to contain the 
 secrets of my profession, a sheet of clean note paper, on 
 which I had previously written with invisible ink the 
 instructions the zemindar was to follow. “ This,” said I, 
 handing the paper to my pupil, “ you must place between 
 the leaves of the Koran, and sleep with the book under 
 your pillow to-night. To-morrow morning you will find 
 written, by the finger of God, the course you are to pur¬ 
 sue. But mind, whatever you do, do not let the sacred 
 book out of your possession until you meet me in the morn¬ 
 ing.” The zemindar promised compliance. When we met 
 the following morning and the sacred book was produced, 
 the writing on the paper had come out beautifully. True, 
 
 . the formation of the letters were not very regular, but I ex¬ 
 plained to the zemindar that the inhabitants of the invis¬ 
 ible world were not very good with the pen, and generally 
 wrote in a peculiar and crabbed hand. As an instance, I 
 referred to the writing on the wall, by the finger of God 
 himself, mentioned in Jewish history, when an expert had 
 to be sent for to decipher the scrawl. This explanation 
 quite satisfied my pupil, particularly as my instructions 
 were plain enough and easily understood. They enjoined 
 
122 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 upon the zemindar strict compliance with all that his 
 preceptor required him to do, and approved of his selec¬ 
 tion as a disciple. It only remained now to give the 
 finishing touch to my art and complete the game. I was 
 not then aware it would prove such a dangerous one as 
 it ultimately did. “We will commence our first lesson 
 in magic,” I explained to my pupil, “ after prayers to¬ 
 morrow/’ for the zemindar was a good Mussulman “ by 
 doubling all the money you are possessed of. By the 
 way,” continued I, “ what sum of money have you at 
 hand ? ” 
 
 “ I have got ten thousand rupees, master, in notes and 
 silver.” 
 
 “ That is rather a small sum to begin with,” said I 
 “ could you not, by borrowing from some of your neigh¬ 
 bours for the occasion, make it twenty thousand P ” 
 
 “ Oh, certainly, without any difficulty,” was the prompt 
 reply of the zemindar. 
 
 With this we parted for the day. On the morrow my 
 pupil was ready with, in round numbers, rupees twenty 
 thousand, mostly, in currency notes. I took the money, 
 wrapped it carefully up, and placed it in my mysterious 
 casket. This done I persuaded my pupil to partake of a 
 glass of consecrated sherbet prepared by my own hands. 
 “ This will,” I. explained, “ open to your astonished gaze 
 all the glorious mystery which Jemsheed had ever known.” 
 
 “ I am entirely in your hands, master,” said the zemin¬ 
 dar resignedly. 
 
 The sherbet was drunk off. Ten minutes afterwards 
 my pupil was lying insensible on the divan. I took up my 
 casket, placed it in the palki, which stood at the door, 
 and hastened away from the neighbourhood as fast as the 
 bearers could carry me. A few days afterwards I dis- 
 
THE PIE’S STOEY. 
 
 123 
 
 covered, to my horror, that the zemindar never recovered 
 from the effects of the sherbet. I had unfortunately mis¬ 
 calculated its strength, and the consequence was Govern¬ 
 ment had offered a reward of a thousand rupees for my 
 apprehension on a charge of administering a stupefying 
 drug for the purpose of robbery. I managed for a time 
 to elude detection but it cost me nearly all my ill-gotton 
 wealth in bribes to the police. At last, driven to despera¬ 
 tion by a pack of sleuth-hounds always at my heels, 1 
 bolted from British territory and joined this honourable 
 band of dacoits, amongst whom I have lived in peace and 
 security ever since. 
 
124 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF A “ SUTTEE.” 
 
 The Pir having finished his story amidst deafening 
 applause, the chief called upon Ameer Ali, alias Seettoo, 
 to relate the history of his experience before becoming a 
 dacoit; whereupon he thus began. 
 
 I was born at Goruckpore, of Brahmin parents. Ac¬ 
 cording to the custom of my country and caste I was 
 married at an early age to a young girl of my own village 
 named Hoomulia. At the time of our marriage I was six¬ 
 teen and my wife only ten years of age. As we V ere 
 neighbours’ children we used to play together and I grew 
 to be very fond of Hoomulia, who was a sweet, dear win¬ 
 ning child, even before our marriage. At the age of 
 eighteen I was sent to service in Calcutta, in order to 
 
125 
 
 THE HISTORY OF A “ SUTTEE.” 
 
 enable me to supjiort a wife when she came of age to join 
 her husband. I had been two years in Calcutta when I 
 received a letter from my parents reminding me that my 
 wife was of age, and like a good Brahmin, I should hurry 
 home at once and consummate my marriage. I had a 
 good appointment at the time and did not wish to throw 
 it up until I could arrange for a substitute who would be 
 willing to work during my absence, and vacate the ap¬ 
 pointment on my return to Calcutta. I replied to my 
 parents’ letter, to this effect. In the meantime the family 
 priest had fallen in love with my wife, and in order to 
 effect his purpose gave out that I had died in Calcutta of 
 cholera. Hoomulia was at this time only fourteen years 
 of age. The news of my death was a terrible shock to 
 the dear girl. She did not shed many tears or make a 
 great outcry, her grief was too deep for either. But she 
 voluntarily came forward and declared she would die a 
 suttee! 
 
 Her father, Puttan Tewary, was at this time absent in 
 another part of the country. Her nearest relations pre¬ 
 sent on the occasion were two uncles named Sheolall and 
 Bhichook. They tried to persuade the girl against her 
 resolve and explained the risk they would incur by assist¬ 
 ing or countenancing the sacrifice. Hoomulia had, how¬ 
 ever, put her hand to the plough and was determined not 
 to look back. 
 
 “ Let her have her own way ” pleaded a sympathetic 
 neighbour named Haripal a Rajpoot. “If the widow 
 wishes to burn herself with her husband’s sandals it 
 ■Would be sinful in you, her uncles, to thwart her. The 
 bereaved heart knows best wherein its own consolation 
 lies.” 
 
 “ Ah my friend,” returned Bhichook, “ and herein rests 
 
 
126 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 the difficulty. The girl is too young to think for herself 
 in such matters. She cannot understand the fearful 
 nature of the sacrifice that religion and caste impose on 
 Hindoo women. Suppose for instance, her courage 
 gave way at the last moment what a disgrace it would be 
 to all her kindred and people! ” 
 
 “Make that point clear to her now” said another 
 neighbour, named Ijrail. “ Tell her plainly that after 
 once consenting to become a suttee, she will not be per¬ 
 mitted to change her resolve when the supreme moment 
 arrives.” 
 
 Bhichook and Sheolall had a long consultation on the 
 subject of the suttee. They were more concerned about 
 the after consequences to themselves, should the matter 
 come to the ears of the authorities, than they were for 
 the sufferino’s of their niece. It was therefore out of 
 
 O 
 
 consideration of their own necks they tried to dissuade 
 the girl from her intent. 
 
 “ ‘ You will not be able to bear the excruciating pain of 
 the fire, Hoomulia. You have no conception of the fear¬ 
 ful agony you will have to suffer. Besides the British 
 Government have prohibited suttee, and only think of the 
 consequences to all who assist you in the sacrifice, should 
 the police come to hear of the matter, pleaded Sheolall.” 
 
 “ The British Government have no right to interfere with 
 our religious customs,” returned Hoomulia. “ Better to 
 die on the funeral pyre with our husbands than drag out 
 the lone and miserable existence of a Hindoo widow. 
 What is life worth to me without happiness; and how is 
 happiness possible without a husband ? My sun has gone 
 down while it is yet noon, and will never rise again. 
 The fountain of my heart, with its affections and desires 
 
127 
 
 THE HISTOYY OP A “ SUTTEE.” 
 
 is for ever dried up. Hope, that sustains all others under 
 the severest trials, has no place in the breast of the widow. 
 Her whole life is one continued midnight; without the 
 remotest prospect of a dawn.” Then burying her face in 
 her hands as if to shut out the terrible picture too dread¬ 
 ful to contemplate, she exclaimed, “ Oh, Vidhatta ! what 
 sin have I committed that I should be visited with so 
 heavy a calamity P Don’t I fear and worship the gods P 
 Don’t I respect Brahmins ? Don’t I practise all our reli¬ 
 gious ceremonies ? Don’t I give alms to the poor according 
 to my means ? Why then should the gods have taken 
 away my husband ? And what is life without a husband ? 
 Oh! uncle I must die ”; was the wail of the widow. 
 “ The pain, I fully understand, will be great, but it will 
 be soon over ! ” 
 
 Hoomulia’s tone was firm and decided, and the uncles, 
 believing she had a call from heaven, deemed it a sin to 
 thwart her purpose. 
 
 “ But remember, said Sheolall, if your courage give 
 way at the last moment you will not be permitted to back 
 oat of the undertaking. Are you quite certain your reso¬ 
 lution will not forsake you when you see and feel the 
 dreadful flames about your ears.” 
 
 “ Never!” answerd Hoomulia with decision. “ I know 
 what I seek—a home with my husband in the land beyond 
 the^bright sunset, and I must reach it through fire and 
 flame, or not at all. Do not, therefore, either try to dis¬ 
 suade me from my purpose or excite my fears further.” 
 
 Sheolall and Bhichook found it was useless to reason 
 further with their niece on the subject, and so resolved to 
 let her have her own way. 
 
 “This is Heaven’s call, depend upon it brother ” said 
 Sheolall to Bhichook, “ and since the girl lias come for- 
 
128 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 ward and voluntarily offered lierself a sacrifice to the 
 gods it would be wicked in us to prevent her. We must 
 hope, that since she is acting under celestial inspiration, 
 Heaven will make her passage through the fiery ordeal a 
 comparatively easy one.” . 
 
 This reasoning seemed to satisfy Bhichook, and the two 
 uncles set about preparing the funeral pyre. When all 
 was ready Hoomulia ascended it with great courage as if 
 she would encounter death as her bridegroom, and hug it 
 in her arms! All the people in the neighbourhood for 
 miles around had collected to witness the ceremony, and 
 when they had seen the girl’s resolution they rent the air 
 with cheers of encouragement: calling out “ Brave Hoo¬ 
 mulia ! brave Hoomulia!” 
 
 When the plaudits of the crowd had ceased Hoomulia 
 recited the following passages from Manava H harm a 
 Sastra :— 
 
 A faithful wife, who washes to obtain in heaven the 
 mansion of her husband, must do nothing unkind to him, 
 be he living or dead. 
 
 “ Let her emaciate her body, by living voluntarily on 
 pure flowers, roots and fruit; but let her not, when her 
 lord is deceased, even pronounce the name of another 
 man. 
 
 “ Let her continue till death forgiving all injuries, per¬ 
 forming harsh duties, avoiding every sensual pleasure’ 
 and cheerfully practising the incomparable rules of virtue, 
 which have been followed by such women, as are devoted 
 to only one husband. 
 
 “Many thousands of Brahmans, having avoided sen¬ 
 suality from their early youth, and having left no issue in 
 their families, have ascended, nevertheless, to heaven; 
 and, like those abstemious men, a virtuous wife ascends 
 
THE HISTORY OF A “SUTTEE.” 
 
 129 
 
 ascends to heaven, though she have no child, if, after the 
 decease of her lord, she devote herself to pious austerity 
 or purifies her soul by fire. . 
 
 “ But a widow, who from a wish to hear children, 
 slights her deceased husband by marrying again, brings 
 disgrace on herself, here below, and shall be excluded 
 from the seat of her lord hereafter. 
 
 “A married woman, who violates the duty which she 
 owes to her lord, brings infamy on herself in this life, and, 
 in the next, shall enter the womb of a jackal, or be afflict¬ 
 ed with elephantiasis and other diseases with which the 
 gods punish crime. 
 
 “ While she, who slights not her lord; but keeps her 
 mind, speech, and body, devoted to him, attains his 
 heavenly mansion, and by all good men is called sadhwi 
 or virtuous. 
 
 “Yes; by this course of life it is that a woman whose 
 mind, speech, and body are kept in subjection, acquires 
 high renown in this world, and, in the next, the same 
 abode with her husband. 
 
 “ A twice born woman who observes all the sacred 
 ordinances of her caste, must burn with hallowed fire and 
 fit implements of sacrifice, her body, with the sandals of 
 her lord, before she can enter the abode of the blessed. 
 
 “No sacrifice is allowed to a woman apart from her 
 husband, no religious rite, no fasting; as far only as a 
 wife honours her lord, so far she is exalted in heaven. 
 
 “ I have done ; so now kindle the sacred fire and per¬ 
 form the funeral rites.” 
 
 The pyre was then fired by Sheolall, and the dry wuod 
 saturated with ghee , was immediately in flames. This 
 was fearful agony to endure, and the young widow worth¬ 
 ing in pain jumped from the pyre and attempted to 
 
130 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 escape ! Oli! horror of horrors ’ Picture to yourself, my 
 clear friends, for I cannot describe the consternation and 
 dismay of the girl’s relatives, “ Shamed and disgraced for 
 ever!” was the passionate exclamation of the uncles. 
 The two men ran forward, seized the girl by the hands 
 and feet and flung her back into the flames! Though 
 
 v 
 
 there were thousands of spectators present not a word of 
 remonstrance was raised against this brutal and inhuman 
 act. In fact the sympathy of the multitude was all the 
 other way! 
 
 The girl was frightfully burnt by this time and her 
 clothes entirely consumed; nevertheless she made a 
 second effort to escape. There was a water course lead¬ 
 ing from a well close by and into this the poor girl flung 
 herself. Her body was covered with large blisters pro¬ 
 duced by the heat, which kept bursting with a noise like 
 a pop gun, and her back, which had been most exposed 
 to the flames, presented the appearance of cooked meat! 
 She was too far gone to be carried back to the pyre, by 
 the hands and feet as on the first occasion and one of the 
 spectators offered a sheet. This was spread out and the 
 victim persuaded to leave the water course and lie down 
 upon it. 
 
 But Hoomulia divining their intentions begged to be 
 allowed to> die where she was. “ Ah! uncle I cannot 
 suffer to be burnt to death. Do have merey on me ! ” 
 
 “ I swear by the holy Gfunga, Hoomulia ” replied the 
 uncle, “ that if you will lie down upon this cloth I will 
 convey yon home at once. Your body is in such a state 
 that you cannot be carried in any other way.” 
 
 Upon this assurance the poor girl lay down upon the 
 cloth, the corners of which were immediately tied together, 
 and a bamboo placed through the loop. In this way 
 
TH^ HISTORY OP A “ SUTTEE.” 
 
 131 
 
 Hoomulia was carried back to tlie pyre and dang* a 
 second time into tlie flames ! The sheet in which she was 
 bound up was soon consumed, and she made a third at¬ 
 tempt to escape, but fell exhausted a few feet from the 
 burning pile. With a view to put an end to her misery, 
 a bystander offered a spear to one of her relations, and 
 just as the latter was about to plunge it through the girl’s 
 heart I sprung upon the scene, wrenched the weapon from 
 the hands of the would-be assassin, and used it on the 
 crowd with the fury of a maniac. A shout went up from 
 the spectators “ The ghost of Hoomulia’s dead husband ! 
 The ghost of Hoomulia’s dead husband ! ” and the multi¬ 
 tude melted away like magic, terrified and panic-stricken. 
 
 As soen as I found myself alone I turned to Hoomulia, 
 she was dead ! I arrived only a few minutes too late to 
 save her! All I could do now for the poor girl was to 
 gather up her remains and dispose of them as reverently 
 as possible. Looking around I discovered a sheet that 
 had been dropped by some one of the late spectators. In 
 this I rolled up the body of Hoomulia, and carried it to 
 the village well. “ Yes ” I said to myself as I gazed upon 
 the most valuable possession of the people—pure water. 
 “ I’ll pollute it with the victim of their own crimes ! ” I 
 then lowered the body into the well, this done I took off 
 my Brahmanical threads and threw them after the corpse, 
 exclaiming as I did so, “ Henceforth I am a follower of 
 the Prophet, and Alla is my god! ” 
 
 I stood for a moment to consider my next move when I 
 was startled by a low moan of pain in my vicinity. I 
 went to the spot and discovered that the sound proceeded 
 from a man lying on the ground, face downwards. I 
 turned him over, and recognised Hoomulia’s uncle Sheo- 
 lali. The soul and body were about to part company 
 
132 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 The sight somewhat unnerved me, and my rage for 
 vengeance turned to pity for the victims of my late fury. 
 I counted the number of bodies lying round the funeral 
 pyre, “ nine ” I repeated to myself “ a lucky number, I 
 must nevertheless provide for my own safety. The news 
 of the suttee and its fatal termination will spread like wild 
 fire, and we will have the police here in no time. 
 
 I fled for safety to the jungle and having disguised my¬ 
 self as a jogee returned, and took up my abode at a Hindoo 
 temple in the neighbourhood, to watch the proceedings of 
 the police. The Magistrate and darogah were the first to 
 arrive, and the people were persuaded to return to their 
 homes. Most of them did so, however, in mortal dread of 
 the bhoot of Hoonmlia’s husband who they believed was 
 still lurking about for more victims. The first step taken 
 by the Magistrate was to have the bodies of the unfortu¬ 
 nate men wdio had been killed examined by the civil 
 surgeon. This functionary after an elaborate and patient 
 post-mortem examination of each body arrived at the con¬ 
 clusion that the men came by their death by spear wounds 
 inflicted by some person or persons unknown, and further 
 that the spear produced by the police said to have been 
 found near the spot where the massacre took place would 
 produce the wounds he observed. 
 
 This question settled the Magistrate and, Superinten¬ 
 dent of Police set about discovering the ‘ great unknown,’ 
 who had used the spear with such fatal effect. The 
 people one and all declared the murderer to be no other 
 than the bhoot of Hoomulia’s husband! Witness after 
 wdtness was examined, but all testified to the same effect. 
 The Magistrate put the question to an old man, who 
 appeared the most intelligent and rational individual in 
 the village. “ Why should Hoomulia’s bhoot murder nine 
 
THE HISTORY OP A “ SUTTEE.” 
 
 133 
 
 innocent men, most of them related to the unfortunate 
 girl who had voluntarily sacrificed herself to join her dead 
 lord in the next world ? ” 
 
 “It is very clear to us, khudawand” (my lord), was 
 the old man’s reply; “ the bhoot of Hoomulia’s husband 
 was so pleased with the girl’s devotion to his memory, 
 that he killed nine, for nine is a lucky number, of her 
 kinsmen and neighbours to bear her company to the 
 next world! ” 
 
 The Magistrate threw down his pen in disgust, and 
 turning to the European police officer said, “Well, Boyce, 
 what do you think of that statement P ” 
 
 “ Its absurd, of course,” returned Boyce, “ but I am 
 convinced, nevertheless, that the witness believes every 
 word of what he has just told us.” 
 
 “ Then what’s to be done ?” queried the Magistrate, 
 “ we can’t hang a blioot” 
 
 Boyce laughed and said, “ Ho faith, besides you would 
 have to catch him first.” 
 
 “ I’ll tell you what,” continued the Magistrate, ‘ I’m of 
 opinion that the native police, if left to themselves, will 
 make a better job of the case than we are likely to do.” 
 
 “ That is exactly my opinion ” Boyce made answer. 
 
 The native darogah was accordingly called in and told 
 to take up the enquiry, and subrp.it a faithful report to 
 his superior. 
 
 Now the advent of a dorogah in a country village, with 
 a big case to dispose of, is regarded by the people with 
 the same horror almost as a gang of dacoits. The en¬ 
 quiry was prolonged for nearly a month, the darogah 
 submitting the most conflicting reports of the case. One 
 day oue family was accused of being responsible for the 
 murder, and the next day evidence was produced impli- 
 
134 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 eating a totally different set of men. Thus the ‘ squeez¬ 
 ing ’ process went on nntil every family in the village had 
 been cleared out. Then the darogah began to think that 
 something must really be done to satisfy the sahibs, 
 otherwise he would lose his reputation as a smart police 
 officer. There were two low caste men who lived in a 
 miserable hut bordering on a stretch of juugle about a 
 mile from the village. These unfortunate creatures eked 
 out a precarious existence by procuring and selling the 
 skins of animals that had either been killed by tigers or 
 died of disease. In fact, they were often suspected of 
 poisoning cattle for the sake of the hides, and were con¬ 
 sequently hated by the Hindoos. The darogali would have 
 no difficulty in shunting the responsibility of the crimes 
 on these two men, as the Hindoos were ready to s wear 
 anything against them to get them out of the way. 
 
 Accordingly the spear found close to where the men 
 were murdered was identified as belonging to the two 
 chamars or low caste men. It was frequently seen in 
 their possession, the witnesses alleged, when going into 
 the jungle to look for dead animals. They carried it as a 
 protection in case they were surprised by a tiger or chetta. 
 Then the motive for the murders was a very strong point 
 against the accused. Shortly before this event a Brahmini 
 bull, an animal held sacred by the Hindoos, died from the 
 effects of snake bite. The chamars were accused of poi¬ 
 soning it, but the Magistrate refused to convict, as there 
 had been no post-mortem examination, and therefore no 
 evidence as to the cause of death. Some of the murdered 
 men took an active part in getting up this poisoning case 
 against the chamars. And the latter out of revenge 
 sprang upon their enemies while they were engaged in 
 the performance of a religious rite, and could not defend 
 
THE HISTORY OF A “SUTTEE.” 
 
 135 
 
 themselves, as it would amount to pollution to touch a 
 low caste man at such a time. They were further charged 
 with disturbing and dishonouring a religious ceremony, to 
 wit the burning of the body of a girl named Hoomulia 
 according to Hindoo custom, who had died of cholera; 
 and polluting and rendering noxious a valuable well by 
 throwing the half burned corpse into it. The sheet, in 
 which the remains of the suttee was tied up, was also 
 shown to belong to one of the chamars by the dhoby 
 mark ! 
 
 The case was now complete. The evidence, both cir¬ 
 cumstantial and direct, against the chamars was irresist¬ 
 ible ; no one could doubt it. The Government Pleader 
 who was also a native, argued that no Hindoo would in¬ 
 terfere with the burning of a body. It would be an 
 unpardonable sin to do so. Ho Hindoo would detile a 
 well, and no Hindoo would defile himself by touching a 
 dead body. The chamars were low caste men and would 
 do all that they had been accused of doing. 
 
 The two chamars were consequently convicted ‘ on the 
 strongest evidence ’ and suffered the extreme penalty of 
 the law. The darogah was promoted to inspector, for the 
 able manner in which he had worked up the case, and 
 placed in charge of an important sub-division. 
 
 I made my escape from the neighbourhood without 
 being recognised, and having no further motive for Jiving 
 an honest and respectable life, joined a band of dacoits 
 and turned Mahoinedan. 
 
136 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 CHAPTER, XIV. 
 
 THE ASTROLOGER’S STORY. 
 
 Ameer Ali alias Seettoo having recited his experiences,, 
 which were listened to with much interest, especially by 
 the Hindoo converts to Maliomedanism, the chief called 
 upon the Acharya (the Astrologer) for the next story. 
 Snrya Kanta, for that was the name of the astrologer, 
 was a noted character, and, though a Hindoo and a Ben¬ 
 gali, was regarded by the whole fraternity, with a feeling 
 of superstitions awe. No expedition was ever under¬ 
 taken without first consulting th*e astrologer. It was the 
 duty of the Acharya to study the heavens and fix the 
 auspicious nights for every undertaking. Hence, the 
 history of this mysterious personage was looked forward 
 to with great eagerness. Accordingly, when the chief 
 
THE ASTROLOGER’S STORY. 
 
 137 
 
 called upon him for the next story there was loud cheer¬ 
 ing and great clapping of hands. He thus began :— 
 
 “ I am a native of Moorshedabad in the province of 
 Bengal, and a descendant of a noted family of astrologers. 
 Like a good Hindoo I stuck to my caste and followed the 
 profession of my fathers. I was an only son, and at the 
 age of eighteen, in consequence of my father’s death, 
 succeeded to the title of AcJiarya to a large and populous 
 district. By the time I was twenty-five I had gained a 
 reputation for casting nativities and working out horos¬ 
 copes, even, exceeding that of any of my predecessors. 
 At this time I determined to adopt another lucrative pro¬ 
 fession in addition to that of AcJiarya —namely, Diviner 
 or predictor of future events. (Bengali- Ganatlcdran.') If 
 a woman lost an ornament; or a cow strayed away and 
 could not be found, I was supposed to be able to put the 
 owners on the right track in both cases. If a child had 
 fits ; or an adult was down with fever , or a married wo¬ 
 man proved barren ; or brought forth girls instead of 
 boys, I was supposed to be able to tell, with unfailable 
 certainty, the cause of these misfortunes, and provide a 
 remedy. Though my predictions often turned out false, 
 the common people were not shaken in their belief in my 
 supernatural powers. For such is human credulity, that 
 in divination, the failures are soon forgotten, and the 
 successes carefully remembered for all time. One notable 
 instance of this kind is worth relating. On the first ap¬ 
 pearance of the great comet of 1858 I predicted that there 
 would be a mighty famine in the land followed by sore 
 pestilence, which actually happened. This chance shot 
 raised me to the highest pinnacle of fame as a diviner, 
 and ever after, all the peojde, both Hindoos and Maho- 
 medans, high and low, rich and poor, learned and un* 
 
138 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 learned, regarded my predictions as infallible. My fame 
 spread far and near, till at last it reached the ears of the 
 Rajah of Jynteah. This potentate had been married 
 some six years, but his queen had given him no children. 
 This was a great disappointment. They loved each other 
 well, but, notwithstanding that love, felt a void and 
 emptiness in life which only those who are denied the 
 presence of children can ever know or feel. 
 
 “For six years Rajah and Ranee had sighed together 
 in silence and tried every means indicated by superstition 
 to remedy their misfortune. A human sacrifice had been 
 offered every year either to Kali or Doorga , but all to no 
 purpose. The gods turned a deaf ear to their supplica¬ 
 tions and the loving wife continued barren. 
 
 “ At last, the Rajah having heard exaggerated accounts 
 of my supernatural powers, determined to consult me 
 regarding his wife’s unfruitfulness. His Prime Minister 
 with a large and .brilliant retinue were sent to fetch me. 
 X was not told for what purpose the Rajah wanted me 
 until I found myself in his presence, otherwise I might 
 have objected to the undertaking. But now finding my¬ 
 self face to face With a man who was all powerful in his 
 own kingdom I deemed it prudent, out of consideration 
 for my own neck, to act in conformity to his wishes. Ac¬ 
 cordingly, after hearing his story and the steps that had 
 been taken, and failed, to cure his wife’s sterility, I 
 intimated that I would take three days to consider the 
 matter and consult the gods. In the meantime I made 
 private enquiries regarding the Rajah’s mode of life be¬ 
 fore his marriage. It turned out that from a very early 
 age, he had indulged in all kinds of dissipation, by which 
 his constitution was ruined and enfeebled. I had now 
 gained all the information I required and at the end of 
 
THE ASTROLOGER’S STORY. 
 
 139 
 
 three days presented myself before the Rajah. As the 
 .interview was of a private nature I was received without 
 ceremony, but with much kindness and condescension. 
 Having made my obeisance and touched the ground three 
 times with my forehead I cried out:—‘ Oh Maharajah, 
 (Great King !) I am commissioned by the gods to convey to 
 thee and thy spouse glad tidings of great joy. Mother 
 Shashthi, who represents the sixth part of the divine essence 
 of Pradhana-Prakriti , the male and female creative prin¬ 
 ciples, by whose influence the entire universe is peopled, 
 will give you a son and heir on condition that your wife 
 performs certain pujas , and that you set up an image of 
 the goddess under a Vatci tree (Ficus Indica) and cause it 
 to be worshipped every month, on the sixth day of the 
 waxing moon, by all the maidens and married women who 
 have not been blessed with children, within a radius of 
 one khos from your capital. Your wife on the same day, 
 will be taken in a pallcee (palanquin) to the goddess to 
 worship, and from thence to the temple of holy of holies, 
 where a phulsayya (flower bed) must be prepared to 
 receive her. Here she will remain in a trance for several 
 hours. On recovering consciousness I will administer the 
 sacrificial rice (rice cooked in clarified butter) on swal¬ 
 lowing which she will become enciente and in due course 
 bring forth a son as bright as the morning, and as brave 
 as a bagh (tiger). 
 
 “ The Rajah, of course consented to all my proposals, 
 and everything was in readiness for the first great puja 
 on the sixth day of the waxing of the moon. The Ranee 
 (queen) was carried in state from the palace to the vata 
 tree and from there to the temple of the holy of holies. 
 Here, dressed as a bride, she was laid on the phulsayya 
 (a marriage bed decorated with flowers). The palanquin 
 
140 ‘ ’ 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 bearers and other attendants having received sayyatolana 
 (offerings or presents made to those who assist in putting 
 a bride to bed) retired, and I was left alone with the 
 Ranee to celebrate the putresktiyaga and administer the 
 sacrificial charu. I commenced the ceremony by placing 
 .the right hand of the Ranee in my left and making her 
 repeat after me the legend in connection with the worship 
 of the goddess Shashthi; and concluded by impressing 
 upon the fair devotee the necessity of keeping what 
 transpired between us a profound secret. The queen was 
 graciously complaisant, and promised to conform to the 
 advice of her spiritual guide in everything. 
 
 “ The ceremony over the Ranee was told she could now 
 retire to the zenana (female private apartments) but, 
 looking modestly down, she exclaimed “ Oh! Acharya 
 mahasya , Shashti is such a nice sweet goddess, if I may 
 be permitted, 1 will perform one more puja in her hon¬ 
 our before leaving the temple. Permission being granted 
 the ceremony was repeated. But oh ! horror of horrors ! 
 at this moment the old family priest, who had been all 
 the time concealed behind the idols, stood before us ! The 
 Ranee screamed and fainted. I stood beside the phulsayya 
 petrified with horror! My heart actually ceased to beat 
 and the very life blood froze in my veins! The priest 
 raised his finger, and by way of mockery cried, ‘ Ulu! 
 ulu ! ulu! Your fate is sealed !’ With this he turned 
 on his heel and left the temple ! During his absence I 
 might have made my escape, but I was so paralysed with 
 fear that, for the life of me, I could not put one_foot be¬ 
 fore another. The priest soon returned with the Rajah 
 and the chief officers of his household. I fell at their feet 
 and craved for mercy. 1 Take the impostor away ’ said 
 the Rajah to the officer of the guard ‘ and roast him alive !* 
 
THE ASTROLOGER’S STORY. 
 
 141 
 
 I was taken to a cell and locked up for the night. The 
 next morning I was brought forth to undergo the punish¬ 
 ment passed upon me by the Rajah, when, fortunately, 
 we encountered a Frenchman preparing to send up a 
 balloon for the amusement of the State officials, who had 
 collected in large numbers to see the tamasha! I made a 
 great outcry, and said, 4 See, gentlemen, a Brahmin is 
 about to lose his life for a very trifling offence, will no 
 one present intercede for him ? ’ The Frenchman, horror- 
 stricken at the severity and cruelty of the punishment; 
 but not wishing to interfere with the Rajah’s private 
 affairs, facetiously remarked, ‘ Your Majesty, allow me to 
 suggest an amendment to the wretched man’s sentence.’ 
 ‘Very good,’ replied the Rajah, ‘what is your sugges¬ 
 tion?’ ‘ We will send the criminal up in the balloon’ 
 returned the Frenchman. The idea seemed to tickle the 
 fancy of the Rajah and his court; for the Frenchman’s 
 proposal was hailed with a burst of applause. My escort 
 was ordered to halt and I was made to sit down till the 
 balloon was ready to ascend. The moment I discovered 
 what they were going to do with me, I made a greater 
 outcry than ever, and begged to be taken to the oven and 
 roasted alive, and not sent direct to Shaitan (the devil) in 
 the Frenchman’s wind bag/' 1 '' But no one paid any atten¬ 
 tion to my entreaty. Many questions were put to the 
 Frenchman as to what would become of me when I got up 
 amongst the clouds. The foreigner explained that I 
 would be absorbed into the planet Mercury, the heat of 
 which was ten thousand times greater than any fire ever 
 kindled by man. The Rajah’s lip curled with a vindictive 
 smile on learning what my fate would shortly be. I went 
 off into a swoon. 
 
 * Fact. 
 
142 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 “ When I recovered consciousness I was rushing north¬ 
 wards at the rate of fifty miles an hour, at an elevatiou 
 so great that I could distinguish nothing on the earth’s 
 surface ; not even the rivers or lakes. My spirits became 
 so elated, the effects of the rarified air, that all feelings of 
 fear completely left me. Would you actnally believe it ? 
 I had so far forgotten my own danger that I began to 
 think of the Ranee, and wondered what punishment she 
 would receive for her part in the intrigue. Poor little 
 thing she really believed that all she went through was 
 part of the ‘ ceremony ’ prescribed for the worship of the 
 goddess SasJithi! 
 
 “ I had now entered a strata of cold air and I began 
 to shiver and my teeth to chatter. I could feel the bal¬ 
 loon descending. Looking down I could distinctly see 
 snow-capped mountains, but I soon left them behind, and 
 the cold also. Evening was now approaching and I 
 watched the sun declining in the West. Suddenly the 
 balloon entered a damp and heavy atmosphere. It grew 
 less in size, and I fancy there was an escape of gas some¬ 
 where, for it began to descend rapidly. I was soon able 
 to distinguish trees and villages, and at last found my¬ 
 self safe and sound on terra firma. Some peasants were 
 working in a field where the balloon descended, but they 
 fled in terror, leaving their bullocks, at the sight of the 
 Frenchman’s wind bag. I was not long, however, in dis-• 
 covering that I had landed in Burmah. Looking round, 
 I saw at a short distance, a Buddhist temple, to which 
 I immediately directed my steps. I found the priest 
 engaged at his devotions as I approached the holy place, 
 aud sat down on the,, steps till he was disengaged. When 
 he came out he recognised me as a native of India and 
 addressed me in Bengali. I rose and saluted him. He 
 
THE ASTROLOGER’S STORY. 
 
 143 
 
 then inquired from whence I came. I told him I was an 
 astrologer by profession and had just concluded a tour 
 through space, making observation of the stars and other 
 heavenly bodies for the purpose of advancing science. He 
 was astonished, and at first, disinclined to believe my story. 
 But on seeing the balloon in which I had travelled, and 
 hearing from the cultivators that they had seen me drop 
 from the clouds, he was no longer incredulous. The news 
 of my extraordinary journey through space spread like 
 wild fire, and thousands of people flocked to the temple to 
 see me. King Thebaw, who was then maturing a plot 
 to drive the English out of British Burma, on learning- 
 from his wise men and magicians that a celebrated astro¬ 
 loger had dropped from the clouds, and was putting up 
 at a temple in his dominions, sent a confidential official 
 to consult me regarding the success or otherwise of the 
 contemplated enterprise. I had heard a good deal of the 
 arbitrary and cruel treatment the Burmese astrologers 
 received at the hands of old King Thebaw and was con¬ 
 sequently very guarded in my conversation with his envoy. 
 It was a custom with the King, when he consulted an 
 astrologer, if the latter did not predict according to his 
 wishes, lie was put to death in order to prevent him 
 bringing about that which he had foretold. On the other 
 hand, if the astrologer prophesied in accordance with the 
 King’s desire he was kept a State prisoner to ensure the 
 fulfilment of the prophecy. If the thing predicted actually 
 took place the astrologer was set at liberty and loaded 
 with rich presents, but if he failed he was roasted alive 
 as an impostor. Under these circumstances I considered it 
 best to have nothing to do with King Thebaw or his Min¬ 
 ister, and began to devise means of escape from Burmah. 
 I consequently asked for six days’ time to consult the 
 
144 
 
 KNAVEKY UNMASKED. 
 
 stars before giving a reply to tlie King’s messenger. The 
 latter consenting presented me with a rich ruby from the 
 King’s mines as an auspicious token of the favourable 
 reply he hoped to carry back to his royal master. This 
 concluded our interview. That night I made my escape 
 from the temple, and succeeded, after a long and weary 
 journey, in reaching Rangoon, without accident or moles¬ 
 tation. Here I sold my ruby and with the proceeds paid 
 my passage, by steamer, to Calcutta, from whence I 
 travelled by foot to my native town. 
 
 “ The glorious orb of day was sinking in the West as I 
 reached the village tank, on the banks of which, I had, 
 as a boy, sported and played, with the children of the 
 neighbourhood; all now, like myself, grown into men 
 and women. There was the tulasi plant I had so often 
 worshipped after my ablutions, just as I left it a little 
 more than a year ago. A little further on, on the opposite 
 side of the ghat , I could see the sacred Sripal (AEgle 
 marmelos) tree, under the shade of which, a number 
 of women, supporting haiasis on their waists, had collected. 
 They had come to draw water from the tank and were 
 retailing the village gup before separating. I approached 
 the coterie unnoticed. I heard my own name mentioned. 
 I stopped and listened with bated breath. Yes there was 
 no doubt about it; the subject of their conversation had 
 reference to mvself. One woman said to another, ‘ I 
 wonder if it is true that the Acharya was put to death 
 by the Rajah for falling in love with his wife ? ’ ‘Oh! 
 yes ’ was the reply of the party addressed, ‘there is no 
 doubt about it. The jamidar (zemindar or landlord) 
 wanted to have his son’s horoscope cast before the cere¬ 
 mony of the child’s first rice, and sent his brother Badan 
 fin search of Snrya Kanta. Badan was told on reaching 
 the Rajah’s territory, that the Acharya was sent up into 
 
THE ASTROLOGER’S STORY. 
 
 145 
 
 the clouds in a wind bag and has never been heard of 
 since.’ A murmur of sympathy for the sad fate of the 
 unfortunate astrologer escaped from all who heard the 
 story. ‘ And what became of the poor Ranee P ’ enquired 
 another coterie. ‘ Oh ! She was made a cold suttee of ’* 
 was the reply. 
 
 “ I tried to choke back a sigh, for I knew what cold 
 suttee meant, and in doing so was forced to cough outright. 
 The women looked round, recognised me, screamed, and 
 dropping their water vessels, fled in terror to their homes, 
 calling out Acharya’s bhuta! (ghost) Acharya’s bhuta! 
 Acharya’s bhuta! I stood my ground like one petrified, 
 unable to move or breathe. At this time a cultivator 
 came up with a plough on his shoulder. I tried to speak, 
 but my tongue clove to the roof of my mouth. I could 
 only gasp without uttering a single sound! The man 
 stopped short, looked at me intently for a moment, then 
 threw down his plough and bolted for his life. He, too, 
 had recognised me. As I gradually recovered from my 
 surprise, the terrible reality of my situation burst upon 
 me like a thunder clap. I saw in an instant that 
 ‘ Othello’s occupation was gone.’ That night I determined 
 to leave the home of my fathers for ever; and carried out 
 my resolution before crow-cawing the following morning. 
 
 I wandered on, without aim or object, not knowing or 
 caring whither I went or what became of me. I looked 
 upon myself as an outcast, an object of terror to all who 
 ever knew me; till at last, driven to desperation, I joined 
 this celebrated band of dacoits. 
 
 * See “ Every Man His Own Detective,” Part III, Chapter V— 
 undetected crime—for an account of “ cold suttee .” 
 
146 
 
 KN.AVE.RY UNMASKED,. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The story of an escaped convict from 
 
 THE ANDAMANS. 
 
 The Astrologer having concluded his story in the midst 
 of tremendous applause and violent clapping of hands, 
 the chief, looking round, cast his eyes upon Mundal Khan, 
 whom he requested to continue the entertainment by a 
 recital of his adventures before becoming a dacoit. 
 
 Whereupon Mundul Khan began in this fashion:— 
 
 I am an inhabitant of Mynponry and the son of an 
 influential zemindar. My father is the leading Maho- 
 medan resident of the town of Puphoond, the population 
 of which is about equally divided between Hindoos and 
 the followers of the Prophet. There were, consequently, 
 frequent quarrels between the two sects. If the Maho- 
 
STORY OF AN ESCAPED CONVICT FROM THE ANDAMANS. 147 
 
 medans killed a cow the Hindoos would rise in a body and 
 attack the hated beef-eaters ; and if the Hindoos carried 
 an idol past a Mahomedan mosque a harvest of broken 
 and bloody heads was the result. 
 
 But matters came to a crisis when the Dusserah and 
 Mohurrum festivals fell on the same date. The authori¬ 
 ties responsible for preserving the public peace sent for 
 the heads of the two factions and endeavoured to persuade 
 them to come to some understanding with each other so 
 as to avoid a collision. The suggestion was a good one, 
 and two punchayets were accordingly organised, one by 
 the Hindoos and the other by the Mahomedans. After 
 some deliberation the Hindoos promised not to carry the 
 Bam Seeta round the town, but the Mahomedans could 
 not be induced to alter the arrangements of former years. 
 “They would,” they said “carry their tazsahas by the 
 same route they had always marched,” and so no definite 
 settlement could be arrived at. The Mahomedans be¬ 
 lieved that the Hindoos would play them false at the last 
 moment. “ For,” said some of the elders, “ if they are 
 sincere and really mean to keep their promise not to carry 
 the Bam Seeta through the town, how are they to get it 
 to the temple of Bowan , which they have erected in a 
 bdgh very close to the tukyd of our fakirs ? Depend upon 
 it the Hindoos are only up to their old games, They 
 think we cannot see through their little artifice. But we 
 will turn out prepared for the worst for all that.” So the 
 eventful day arrived. The Hindoos in spite of their 
 promise turned out in large numbers to follow the proces- 
 sion. Fully expecting to meet with opposition, the proces¬ 
 sionists were all armed. They commenced their march 
 through certain streets where the Mahomedans had 
 
 O 
 
 erected their tazzaJias . The police interfered and tried to 
 
148 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 change the route by which the Hindoos were proceeding 
 to the bagh but without success. The Mahomedans col¬ 
 lected in force, all armed to the teeth, and ready for an 
 affray. The supreme moment arrived when the Hindoo 
 procession reached the Mahomedan tukya. Some of the 
 latter remarked—“ If you don’t stop polluting the atmos¬ 
 phere with the breath of your conch , we’ll cram cow’s flesh 
 down your throats and break your idols into pieces.” The 
 Hindoos retorted by calling the Mahomedans pig-eating 
 dogs. “ Down with the unbelievers,” shouted the Maho¬ 
 medans, and at it they went, hammer and tongs. The 
 police, who had up to this time, endeavoured to preserve 
 the public peace, beat a hasty retreat and left the two 
 factions to settle the matter in dispute in their own way. 
 The fieht lasted for several hours, a number of men were 
 killed outright, several permanently maimed, and hun¬ 
 dreds wounded, many severely. The idols of the Hindoos 
 and the tazzahas of the Mahomedans were smashed to 
 pieces, while half the town was reduced to ashes. 
 
 All this time the police, who were under the orders of 
 a native inspector, did nothing till the European officials 
 arrived upon the scene. Then the ringleaders were ar¬ 
 rested and the rioters dispersed. All the leading men of 
 both factions were committed to the sessions, and most 
 of them, after a long and expensive trial, were found 
 guilty and sentenced to various terms of imprisonment. 
 I was sent to the Andamans for seven years. I did not 
 take kindly to a life of exile in a convict settlement and 
 pined for freedom. Any kind of existence, I thought, 
 would be better than the hateful restraint to which I was 
 subjected. So, at the last, I resolved upon making my 
 escape or perishing in the attempt. 
 
 One night when all was quiet I stole out of my dormi,- 
 
STORY OF AN ESCAPED CONVICT FROM THE ANDAMANS. 149 
 
 tory and made for the jungles. I continued to travel for 
 about a week in the forests before meeting with a living 
 soul. During this time I subsisted on wild honey which 
 I found very plentiful, edible roots, fruit, and the larvae 
 of a species of insects peculiar to these islands considered a 
 great delicacy by the aborigines. I did not want for food. 
 In fact I found myself getting stronger and better able to 
 withstand fatigue every day. At the end of my seventh 
 day’s experience of jungle life I came upon an open plain 
 with the sea in front of me. Here I fell in with a tribe of 
 aborigines. They appeared at first frightened at my ap¬ 
 proach and showed a disposition to flee to the jungles. I 
 offered their chief my little store of honey and insect larvae 
 which was gladly accepted. This peace-offering had the 
 effect of gaining the confidence of the whole tribe, and 
 they began to collect round me, men, women and children, 
 and manifested a great curiosity in my appearance, 
 especially my height. I was six feet, while the tallest 
 of the tribe did not exceed four feet. 
 
 When I surprised the little camp, the women were 
 engaged cooking. On one fire was the shell of a huge 
 turtle acting as its own pot, in which was simmering the 
 green fat so delicious to the European palate ; on another 
 its flesh was being boiled together with some splendid 
 fish; on a third a wild pig was being roasted, its drippings 
 falling on wild yams ; on a fourth a large sea-snake, con¬ 
 sidered a great delicacy, was stewing in its own juice. 
 The sight and smell of cooked food made my mouth water 
 and I felt an irresistible craving to taste the delicacies. I 
 tried to make myself understood by signs, and was fairly 
 successful. A consultation was then held amongst the 
 men of the tribe as to whether it would be safe or dan¬ 
 gerous to extend their hospitality towards me. The 
 
150 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 elders, who are held in great respect by the younger 
 members of the tribe, decided that the question should be 
 submitted to the spirit of the deep for decision. The fol¬ 
 lowing ceremony was then performed to test whether my 
 appearance amongst the tribe was for good or evil. A 
 large circle was described on the ground and I was made 
 to stand at a certain point of the circumference. A live 
 sea-snake was then brought into the centre of the circle 
 and pinned to the ground by a skewer passing through 
 its body, after which the head was cut off with a piece of 
 flint, for they have no knives or implements of metal. 
 The moment the reptile was decapitated the body began 
 to twist and turn round the skewer until life was extinct. 
 
 v 
 
 All the tribe watched the movement with breathless 
 interest. The snake at last expired with its bloody trunk 
 away from the spot where I was standing, and a shout of 
 joy went up from every mouth. The great spirit of the 
 deep had indicated that my advent was for good, and I 
 was permitted to sojourn with the tribe as long as I liked. 
 Had the snake died with the bloody trunk in my direc¬ 
 tion it would have been considered a warning from the 
 great spirit of the deep that my presence amongst them 
 was for evil, and I would have been either driven out of 
 their camp or secretly murdered. 
 
 I spent nearly six months with the tribe and was very 
 kindly treated by them all, especially by their chief. I 
 had taught them many new ways of catching fish, which 
 is their chief food, and assisted them to. build several 
 canoes such as are used on Indian rivers. I always found 
 them kind, trustful, unselfish, honest, generous and light¬ 
 hearted. They had no thought for the morrow. Nor 
 was it necessary. The sea and forest supplied them with 
 abundance of food. They had never known want or even 
 
STORY OP AN ESCAPED CONVICT FROM THE ANDAMANS. 151 
 
 •scarcity. The scenery too is lovely beyond description. 
 It is like fairy-land. The island is covered with luxuriant 
 vegetation down to the water’s edge. Magnificent forest 
 trees with umbrella-like tops shoot up to a height of two 
 hundred feet, their stems covered from root to branch 
 with lovely creepers in beautiful festoons; with palms, 
 rattans, and canes of many varieties interspersed, creat¬ 
 ing striking contrasts of form and colouring. The sea 
 too is calm and clear as crystal with beautiful coral gar¬ 
 dens beneath the surface. Indeed, the most gorgeous 
 combination of vegetable and animal life afford but a very 
 poor sub-aerial representation of those submarine gar¬ 
 dens. 
 
 The number of aborigines living on the island, as far as 
 I could learn, numbered about one thousand, divided into 
 tribes of about thirty or forty each. Each tribe fixes 
 upon a spot for a depot, here the sick are tended, and any 
 extra supplies they may have are hoarded. One tribe 
 does not interfere with the territory or preserves of an¬ 
 other. On two tribes meeting the great sign of friend¬ 
 ship is the presence of women, for when hostility is 
 intended, the weaker sex are sent to a place of safety. 
 
 Their huts, if they deserve the name, are merely palm 
 tree leaves, most loosely put together; they also shelter 
 themselves under large trees, and overhanging rocks. 
 The bones of animnls or fish, which they have eaten, as 
 well as the shells of turtles, are all throwm into one heap 
 elose to the camp, the smell from this becomes in time 
 very offensive. When they can no longer endure it, they 
 remove to a fresh camp. 
 
 Flint is used instead of iron or steel. They make their 
 arrow -heads of flint; and use it to shave and tattoo their 
 bodies. Their language is very deficient in words, and 
 
152 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 different tribes have distinct dialects. As for numerals 
 they never yet discovered the necessity; so when they talk 
 of having taken quantities or numbers of anything, it is 
 impossible to have any idea of their meaning, and what 
 still more increases the difficulty is, that in framing an 
 answer they do so from the question, almost repeating 
 the same words. For example, if you ask them if such 
 and such an occurrence took place, instead of saying 
 “ Yes ” if the reply is in the affirmative, they will repeat 
 the words of the questioner. 
 
 The day is divided into three portions—sunrise, midday, 
 sunset—recognising no sub-divisions of time. In like 
 manner, the year, with them has three seasons: first the 
 dry period called ea-ra-bodilin extending from February 
 to May; secondly, the rainy season, ga-ma-lin , from June 
 to September; and thirdly, the moderate season, called 
 pa-pa-lin, lasting from October till January. 
 
 The Andamanese have some strange customs, crying 
 with them signifies joy or reconciliation with enemies, 
 when two tribes meet, in friendly intercourse, new comers 
 burst out into a long low wail which, by degrees, is raised 
 to the highest pitch of the human voice. Then the other 
 tribe join in and crying is kept up with great spirit for 
 nearly an hour. This crying put me in mind of the noise 
 made by a party of Indian women starting on a pilgrim¬ 
 age. After crying is finished dancing commences. The 
 women clap their hands and sing to the music produced 
 by the stamping of the men’s feet on the ground. Their 
 songs consist in the recital of events that have taken 
 place since their last meeting. Paint is used by the 
 Andamanese in place of clothing and its mode of applica¬ 
 tion indicates for what purpose it is put on ; whether for 
 simple ornament, to drive away disease, evil spirits, or as 
 
STORY OF AN ESCAPED CONVICT FROM THE ANDAMANS. 153 
 
 a sign of mourning. Sometimes, however, a few fibres 
 are fantastically worn round the forehead, neck, waist, or 
 below the knee in the form of a garter, but all other cloth¬ 
 ing they consider useless and unnecessary. 
 
 Most of the women, however, make some slight show of 
 decency. They twist up fibres into the form of thin ropes, 
 which they cover with leaves and wear round their waists. 
 From this waist band a number of streamers depend 
 which reach half way to the knee. For ornaments they 
 wear a string of their ancestors’ bones round the neck. 
 A widow wears the skull of her dead husband slung in a 
 basket over her back. But in the event of her having a 
 child to carry, the skull is fastened to the waist belt. 
 
 All the adults have their bodies tattooed, the operation 
 is commenced at a very early age, and until it is com¬ 
 pleted they are not considered eligible for marriage. As 
 soon as they begin to swim, which is about the age of 
 eight, tattooing commences. Only a very small portion 
 of the body is operated upon at a time. The instrument 
 used is a piece of sharpened flint bound to a stick; a con¬ 
 siderable amount of blood is lost during each operation. 
 Hence the necessity of long intervals between the opera¬ 
 tions. It requires eight years, in some cases, to tattoo 
 the entire body. They do not form figures like the Bur¬ 
 mese. 
 
 The men marry as soon as they as they are able to pro¬ 
 vide for a wife. The youthful swain eats a peculiar kind 
 of fish, called goom-dali while his parents perform certain 
 religious observances. This entitles the youth to the ap¬ 
 pellation of goo-moo signifying “ eligible for marriage.” 
 G iris on attaining a marriageable age wear certain flowers, 
 by which they are distinguished. Before marrying, 
 young men take an oath to refrain from eating pork for 
 
154 
 
 KNAVERY ITNMASKED. 
 
 one year commencing from April, they are not, however, 
 permitted to refrain from hunting swine, as these animals 
 are necessary for the support of the tribe. They are 
 allowed to eat fish, turtle and fruit during the probation¬ 
 ary year. 
 
 The marriage ceremony is very simple. A man of 18 
 or 19 is engaged tc a girl of 13 or 14 belonging to a dif¬ 
 ferent family. The chief of the tribe unites the man and 
 wife, if the union has his approval. On the day fixed for 
 the marriage ceremony the youthful pair are seated apart 
 from the remainder of the tribe, and pass the day in star¬ 
 ing at each other. On the approach of night the chief 
 advances, and taking the hands of the pair join them 
 together; they then retire into the jungle where they pass 
 their honeymoon. On the return of the bride and bride¬ 
 groom to their tribe, jeedgo , crying and dancing, are kept 
 up with great spirit for several days. 
 
 The wife has to perform all the home duties, such as 
 providing shelter, making mats to sleep upon, cooking the 
 food, procuring water and shell-fish, carrying loads when 
 changing from camp to camp, shaving and painting her 
 husband as well as attending upon him in sickness. The 
 husband’s duty is to protect the wife, make canoes for 
 fishing, implements for hunting pigs, catching turtle, and 
 spearing fish. 
 
 When children are born, the infant is first bathed in 
 cold water, and then warmed over a fire, on the supposi¬ 
 tion that beginning early to accustom them to changes of 
 temperature, they will grow up hardy. Men and women 
 seem equally fond of children and delight in carrying 
 them about. All pet them, and when they cry for any¬ 
 thing they get it. The result is that the little one is 
 often killed through over kindness. Children are named 
 
STORY OF AN ESCAPED CONVICT FROM THE ANDAMANS. 155 
 
 some months before they are born, after some family or 
 favourite cognomen, consequently there is no distinction 
 between the males and females. As their vocabulary of 
 names is limited to about twenty-five, they have to add 
 some prefix to each, as a mark of distinction. 
 
 When an adult dies he is rapidly buried and the tribe 
 migrate for about a month to another locality, at least 
 eight or ten miles oft through fear of the ghost of the 
 departed. A corpse is viewed with extreme horror, and 
 no one will approach a burial-ground, except the nearest 
 of kin to the deceased. 
 
 I was present at only one burial during my whole so¬ 
 journ amongst the Andamanese. The deceased had two 
 married sisters whose husbands’ duty it was to bury the 
 corpse. Death took place at 6 a.m., and within two hours 
 after, his remains were rolled up in leaves by the oldest 
 people of the tribe, and corded with strong fibre prepara¬ 
 tory to being consigned to the grave. The grave was not 
 more than two feet deep. Here the corpse was placed in 
 a sitting position with his face towards the rising sun. 
 Before filling in the grave the whole tribe took a last fare¬ 
 well of their departed friend, and each gently blew upon 
 his face and forehead. Before retiring, a cup of water 
 was placed at the head of the grave in case the spirit of 
 the deceased should feel thirsty during the night. 
 
 When a headman or chief dies, the burial is somewhat 
 different to that described above. A stage is erected 
 some twenty feet from the ground, and on this the corpse 
 is placed. The powerful spirit of the great man is sup« 
 posed to be satisfied with this distinction, and in con¬ 
 sequence will not return to injure any of the tribe. A 
 fire is lighted below the stage to scare away any evil 
 spirits that may be lurking about. The extraction of the 
 
156 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 skull and bones of dead relatives, requires both skill and 
 courage, while by keeping them carefully, and wearing 
 them during pain and sickness, it is supposed the ghost 
 of the departed will be influenced for good towards the 
 wearer. 
 
 Should a stranger or man of a different tribe die amongst 
 them his funeral rites are entirely neglected. The corpse 
 is either thrown into the jungle or the sea. The evil in¬ 
 fluences of a stranger’s spirit are not dreaded. 
 
 When a neighbour comes to condole with a man or wo¬ 
 man who has lost a wife or husband, the custom is to fall 
 into each other’s arms and cry as long as the embrace 
 lasts. They then sit down and recite the virtues of the 
 departed in song. 
 
 The Andamanese eat nothing raw, not even fruit. In 
 cooking meat they either throw it on the embers, turning 
 it over wheu the underside appears to be sufficiently 
 done, or stew it in tortoise shells. They are little people 
 with very large appetites, and can easily consume six or 
 seven pounds of fish or pork at one sitting. A large pi?ma 
 forms their plate and a nautilus shell their drinking cup. 
 They have no regular periods for their meals, but eat 
 when they are hungry, no matter at what time or place. 
 They make it a point, however, to partake of a good meal 
 before setting out on a hunting or fishing expedition. 
 
 Their principle food at the commenncement and during 
 the north-sun period, is honey, fruit and turtles. In the 
 rainy season they do not wander about very much, owing 
 to the difficulty of obtaining shelter. At this period the 
 jack fruit comes into season and the seed lasts them about 
 three months. In the early part of the middle season 
 pigs are common. When these become scarce, the people 
 take to fishing and turtle catching. In January honey is 
 
STORY OP AN ESCAPED CONVICT FROM THE ANDAMANS. 157 
 
 plentiful, and tlie Andamanese bring down the honeycomb 
 with great dexterity, neither injuring the bees, nor get¬ 
 ting stung by them. They use a wild shrub which grows 
 in the jungle called jenedah, the juice of which has an in¬ 
 toxicating effect. The person who ascends the tree takes 
 a bunch of this shrub, previously pounded, so as to break 
 the bark, in his hand. When he reaches the bees he 
 lashes about him and scatters the juice in all directions. 
 The bees fall to the ground in a state of intoxication and 
 
 give no further trouble, while the honeycomb is cut down. 
 They also make use of the wax to stop leaks in their 
 canoes, for covering the fibres which they use to fasten 
 the flint heads to the arrow shafts, and to preserve their 
 bow strings. 
 
 Their bows and arrows are mostly used for shooting fish 
 in shallow water; the upper two-thirds of the arrow is a 
 light reed, the lower portion a heavier material armed, at 
 the point, with a piece of sharp flint. As soon as a shoal 
 of fish, or even one or two large fish appear, all are at 
 once on the alert, they dash about over the sharp coral 
 beds without caring for it. Their eyesight is most acute 
 They fire their arrows at objects in the water, which no 
 person but themselves can perceive. They aim under the 
 fish and mostly strike it through the bowels. When 
 struck the victim darts away carrying off the arrow, which, 
 however, soon becomes entangled in sea weed and is held 
 fast until secured. 
 
 As soon as the children are able to toddle they are pro¬ 
 vided with small bows and arrows, unarmed, but pointed 
 at the end and are made to practice on wounded fish, in 
 very shallow water. The usual mode of killing captured 
 fish is to bite through the vertebral column, just behind 
 the head. Before, however, the fish is killed outright it 
 
158 
 
 knavery unmasked. 
 
 is thrown into the sea, and of course darts away, where* 
 upon all the little boys and girls dart in after it; and 
 invariably succeed in its recapture. 
 
 After spending some six months amongst these merry 
 little people an Arab dhoiv, or small trading craft came to 
 the island in search of coral. I made the acquaintance of 
 the captain and he agreed to take me to the Persian Gulf, 
 to which place his vessel was bound. From there, I made 
 my way by land, to Central India, but being afraid to re¬ 
 turn to where I w~as known, I joined my present chief, 
 and his brilliant little band of dacoits, where I have lived 
 in peace and security ever since. 
 
THE STORY OP NUNSALING THE NAGA. 
 
 159 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE STORY OF NUHSALINO THE HAGA. 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 
 
 The story of the escaped convict concluded in the midst 
 of uproarious applause, the chief directed the “ Baboo ” to 
 take it down in writing. He said it would be a pity that 
 so interesting an account of these merry little people, the 
 Andamanese, who were being civilized off the face of the 
 earth by the English, should be lost to posterity. This 
 matter settled; the chief next called upon Munsaling to 
 continue the entertainment by a recital of his adventures 
 before becoming a dacoit. Accordingly, in obedience to 
 his chief’s command, Nunsaling began in this manner. 
 
 I am a Naga by birth and the son of a once powerful 
 Gamboorah , or village chief. The tribe to which I be¬ 
 longed had settled for years on the frontier of Assam; 
 
160 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 We were surrounded by many hostile tribes, and had 
 often a stiff struggle to preserve our independence. Our 
 greatest enemies were the Rookies, a small but hardy 
 race of men capable of undergoing any amount of hard¬ 
 ship and perfect fiends in battle. We were never a day at 
 peace with the Rookies. There was always some blood 
 feud to be settled, or some treachery to be avenged. 
 
 Matters were brought to a crisis when the Raga village 
 of Simkur had turned out to a man to celebrate the Gena 
 Poojah, a sacred religious festival from which all strangers 
 are carefully excluded. The whole village was magni¬ 
 ficently decorated, according to a Raga’s idea of magni¬ 
 ficence in decoration, with spears and bucklers, swords 
 
 i 
 
 and daos, battle-axes and brass plates, banners and pen¬ 
 dants, human skulls and buffalo horns, bows and arrows, 
 plumes of peacock feathers and horse hair. There was 
 the usual round, on such occasions, of feasting, drinking, 
 smoking, dancing and singing; and at night, for the festi¬ 
 val lasted three days, torch light processions accompanied 
 with music. 
 
 In the midst of our festivities, when the warriors of my 
 tribe had been worked up to a high state of religious 
 frenzy a party of armed Rookies suddenly appeared. The 
 noise of music, dancing and singing ceased in an instant. 
 There was a death-like and ominous calm. Each man 
 could hear his own heart beat. Then followed a sudden 
 reaction, a war cry and a rush to arms. The Rookies 
 stood their ground and contemplated the scene in silence 
 and amazement! My father restrained the passions of 
 his tribesmen in order to see what could be done by nego¬ 
 tiation. The two chief men advanced to hold a parley. 
 
 “ Oh! Great Ring of the Wild Hawks,” began the 
 Raga chief with outstretched arm, “ who has guided your 
 
THE STORY OF NUNSALING THE NAGA. 
 
 161 
 
 warriors hither at a time when the presence of strangers 
 among ns is strictly prohibited ? Have yon come on pur¬ 
 pose to provoke a quarrel while we are engaged in the 
 performance of a religious ceremony ?” 
 
 “No, Great Eagle,” replied the Kookie chief, “we are 
 not come hither to disturb your sacred rights. All we 
 want is a passage through your village. My warriors are 
 proceeding east on an elephant hunting expedition.” 
 
 “ The King of the Wild Hawks has not chosen a proper 
 time to make such a request. It -would be tantamount to 
 desecration to allow a stranger to enter our village during 
 the Gena festival, the most exclusive and sacred of all our 
 ceremonies. You can renew the application at any other 
 period and your request will be favourably considered.” 
 
 “ The Lord of the Golden Eagle cannot be ignorant of 
 the fact that if we defer our expedition to a more con¬ 
 venient period, the elephants will have made themselves 
 scarce, or worse still, Sanderson Sahib, the mighty white¬ 
 faced hunter, who is exterminating the great leviathan of 
 the forest, will steal a march upon us and hunt over our 
 preserves.” 
 
 “ Ah brother ! ” responded the Naga chief in a sym¬ 
 pathetic tone, “ Sanderson Sahib is our common enemy. 
 And I would gladly comply with your wish did not the 
 solemnity of the Gena Poojah prohibit it. If we allowed 
 you a free passage our village would be defiled, the great 
 spirit, the all-powerful Being who rules our destiny offend¬ 
 ed, and our tribe disgraced and dishonoured. No ; no ; it 
 cannot be.” 
 
 The Kookies, frustrated in their attempt to pick a quar¬ 
 rel with the Nagas, sullenly retired. 
 
 Two days afterwards the Kookies returned, their num¬ 
 bers increased, and all armed to the teeth with spears, 
 
 11 
 
162 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 battle-axes, knives, bows and shields. The village was 
 stormed and the Nagas surprised. Nevertheless, the latter 
 flew to arms like one man and fell upon the Kookies. The 
 battle lasted several hours. The carnage was fearful! 
 Neither side would yield an inch, as long as there was a 
 man capable of raising a spear or drawing a bow. The 
 fight continued until Nunsaling, the last man of my tribe 
 left standing, fell mortally wounded. The Kookies on 
 seeing him fall were about to sound the war whoop of 
 triumph when our women, who had been looking on from 
 a distance, sprang forward like a lightning flash, seized 
 the spears of their dead and dying lords and fell upon the 
 Kookies. Not a single warrior returned to tell the tale. 
 Our women then brought out all the male children of our 
 tribe and marking their heads with the blood of the slain 
 made them swear by the great spirit to avenge the blood 
 of their fathers on the rising generation of Kookies! 
 Then raising their spears over the bodies of their fallen 
 foe they cried out blood for blood and man for man we 
 have exacted, but our sons are sworn to a double revenge. 
 My mother being the wife of a Naga chief, it was her 
 duty, in the absence of her dead lord, to ratify the vow 
 made to the Great Spirit. Selecting the body of the 
 Kookie chief she made a spear wound in the neck, from 
 which, as the body was still warm, the blood flowed freely. 
 Then stooping down she filled a horn drinking cup of the 
 red liquid, and as she raised it to her lips pronounced, in 
 the bitterness of her widowed heart, the following pro¬ 
 phetic curse against the enemy of her tribe and people:— 
 “ As I drink this warm fluid from the heart of a fallen foe 
 so shall the fruit of my womb drink the blood of every 
 Kookie king for ten generations ! ” Then placing a spear 
 in my hand—I was only a boy of ten or twelve’ years of 
 
THE STORY OP NUNSALING THE NAGA. 
 
 163 
 
 age at tjie time, but I remember everything as vividly as 
 if it had only occurred yesterday—she made me hold it 
 over the heart of the Kookie chief, and telling me to re¬ 
 peat after her these words :—“ Oh Great Spirit as I am 
 now about to serve the King of the Wild Hawks so will 
 I serve and teach my children to serve every Kookie that 
 crosses my path and theirs ! ” As I pronounced the last 
 words the spear was driven through the heart of the dead 
 chief at my mother’s direction. “ There ” said she, “ shall 
 the vile carcase remain, pinned to the earth by a Naga’s 
 spear, till the foul vulture strip the flesh from the 
 bones! ” 
 
 This ceremony over, the women commenced to separate 
 the bodies of the Nagas from those of the Kookies. It 
 was a ghastly sight! And sometimes the work of con¬ 
 siderable exertion and difficulty to part the one from the 
 other. A dead Naga with his spear through the body of 
 a Kookie, and the Kookie’s spear through the body of the 
 Naga, and both weapons clutched with such intensity that 
 there was no separating them. Time and patience, how¬ 
 ever, overcame the difficulty and the women continued 
 their exertions till the bodies of their dead lords were 
 all religiously disposed of according to the custom of our 
 tribe. 
 
 This done, the women and children, with their goods 
 and chattels, removed some ten miles to a fresh camping 
 ground, for they feared the ghosts of the dead Kookies 
 more than they did the living warriors ! 
 
 Time went on and a new generation of Nagas and Koo¬ 
 kies sprung up with the memory of the old blood feud as 
 strong and bitter as ever. Times though had greatly 
 changed since the great battle of Sinkur was fought. 
 Thousands of acres of jungle across our border had been 
 
164 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 cleared and converted into prosperous tea-gardens, giving 
 employment to tens of thousands of wretched coolies from 
 Bengal. Our preserves were being encroached upon. 
 We had white-faced tea-planters on one side and Sander¬ 
 son, the elephant hunter, on the other. Thus menaced it 
 was necessary that the scattered tribes of the Assam 
 frontier united for mutual protection. Negotiations to 
 this end were in progress when we were threatened by a 
 new and more serious calamity. Many of our people had 
 taken to collecting rubber as a means of livelihood. Sud¬ 
 denly the British Government put a stop to our bleeding 
 the trees and reserved the forests, which we regarded as 
 our own special preserves, the happy hunting ground of 
 our forefathers. The Nagas retaliated. They seized the 
 forest officers, and carried them off to their stronghold in 
 the jungle. One man, a Bengali, died of sheer fright. 
 We stuck to the remainder in hopes of the British Govern¬ 
 ment offering us favourable terms for their release. The 
 Governor-General replied by sending an expedition against 
 our people. We thought at first that this was only an 
 idle threat or feint show of force, for the purpose of in¬ 
 timidating us into restoring the captives to liberty. We 
 never believed for a moment that British troops could 
 pierce our impenetrable jungles. We laughed at what we 
 considered an idle threat on the part of the Viceroy of 
 India and held on to our prisoners. We wanted a 
 guarantee that would leave us in undisputed possession of 
 our forests and all they contained, both in animal and 
 vegetable production. If these terms were conceded we 
 offered to deliver up the captives. The English would 
 not listen to the condition proposed, but continued to push 
 on the expedition organized to punish my people, and re¬ 
 lease the captives by force. The Nagas on their part,— 
 
THE STORY OF NUNSALING THE NAGA. 
 
 165 
 
 though anticipating failure of the expedition to penetrate 
 the dense jungles surrounding Assam Proper, set to work, 
 not only to strengthen their positions, but to lay in a 
 plentiful supply of poisoned arrows, against the day of 
 trouble, should it ever arrive. To our surprise and dis¬ 
 may it did arrive. One day a hunting party of Nagas 
 suddenly encountered the advance guard of the threatened 
 expedition, about fifteen miles from our nearest village. 
 The ISTagas, being few in number, took to flight. The 
 enemy opened fire and two men fell. The news was 
 received by the Nagas with the greatest consternation and 
 dismay. Evey warrior flew to arms. A consultation was 
 held, and after hearing the testimony of the hunting party 
 who brought in the news, it was decided to take up a 
 strong position and act on the defensive. Some were for 
 going out and meeting the enemy in the jungle, but on 
 learning that the English troops were armed with weapons 
 that killed at a distance of half a kos (one mile) the pro¬ 
 posal was abandoned. 
 
 A third party suggested surprising the English camp 
 at dead of night and stealing the weapons that proved so 
 destructive at long ranges. This proposal was agreed to 
 without a dissentient voice. 
 
 About an hour after sundown a party of ISTagas, picked 
 men, started for the English camp. The advance guard, 
 .which w r as separated from the main body by half a kos , 
 had bivouacked for the night under some large trees. 
 Camp fires were burning in all directions to keep off 
 wild animals. The light enabled us to see from a dis¬ 
 tance, without being seen by the sentries, the forms of the 
 sepoys asleep on the grass with their arms piled in usual 
 military style. The jungle in the vicinity was very dense. 
 We crept stealthily through the underwood until the cor- 
 
166 
 
 knavery unmasked. 
 
 don of outposts was passed, and reached tlie slumbering 
 camp unobserved. The seizure of the arms was the work 
 of a moment, and we disappeared, as we had come, 
 through the underwood without alarming the sentries or 
 camp. 
 
 Great was the applause of the Nagas on learning the 
 next morning the success of the enterprise. But equally 
 great was the disappointment later on when it was dis¬ 
 covered that the arms we had taken such pains, and risked 
 so much, to obtain were of no earthly use to us. No one 
 knew how to use them ! The only gun known to any of 
 the tribe was a rude matchlock, even the use of this 
 weapon was imperfectly understood. Of a breech loading 
 rifle we had never even heard before. All our art and 
 ingenuity were exhausted in trying to load one. We half 
 filled the barrel with gunpowder, cut down a leaden bullet 
 until it was small enough to enter the muzzle, and tried 
 to discharge it with a lighted torch. It was no use ; we 
 couldn’t explode the gunpowder. Then we tried to draw 
 the charge, but failed. A venerable sage, whose advice 
 and counsel was respected by the whole tribe, suggested 
 placing the gun across the fire till the barrel became red 
 hot. This was done with the result that the rifle exploded 
 and the contents of the barrel lodged in the body of one 
 of our best warriors. The whole tribe was seized with panic 
 and bolted from the spot. No one could be persuaded to 
 touch one of the stolen weapons again. They fell into the 
 hands of the English, when, a few days afterwards, our 
 villages were stormed and taken. It is to the exploding 
 of the rifle and its fatal result I attribute the easy victory 
 of the British expedition against the Nagas. The latter 
 could not be induced to face an enemy armed with an in¬ 
 fernal machine, the nature of which they did not under- 
 
THE STORY OF NUNSALING THE NAGA. 
 
 167 
 
 stand. I had been made a prisoner of war during the 
 first brush with the enemy, and was kept under strict 
 surveillance for over a month. One night the sepoy guard 
 that had charge of the prisoners was encamped on a piece 
 of rising ground covered with a short bushy shrub, the 
 roots of which, when pounded and soaked in water, form¬ 
 ed a strong and powerful intoxicant, extremely pleasant 
 to the palate. I taught the sepoys how to prepare it. Be¬ 
 fore morning there was not a man jack sober enough to 
 turn out for sentry go ! You can easily guess what fol¬ 
 lowed. I succeeded in making good my escape. But 
 fearful lest the English, after subduing the Nagas, would 
 annex the country, and recapture me. I fled from the home 
 of my fathers and became a dacoit in an independent 
 Native State. Here I have lived in peace and security 
 and served my chief with fidelity ever since. 
 
 Hear ! hear! from the audience. 
 
 [N. B .—There is not much “ Knavery to Unmask ” in 
 the story of these simple children of nature, but a work 
 professing to illustrate the manners, customs, peculiarities, 
 and superstitions of the various races of India would not 
 be complete were the Nagas left out.] 
 
168 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 CHAPTER XYIL 
 
 THE STORY OF THE VILLAGE CHOWKEYDAR. 
 
 Hunsaling, the Naga, having finished his story, for 
 which he received a hearty round of applause, the chief 
 next called npon Gnnpnt Tewary to favour the company 
 with his experience before becoming dacoit. Accordingly, 
 In obedience to his chief’s command, Gnnpnt Tewary 
 began in this manner :— 
 
 I am the son of a GJiowkeydar and the grandson of a 
 GJiowkeydar. In fact, all my ancestors In the male line 
 for generations back had served in the rural police; and 
 your humble servant had the honour of first seeing the 
 light of heaven in the thanna compound. My father was 
 nicknamed the “ black-mailer ” and I was called after 
 him the young “black-mailer.” When I grew up to 
 
THE STORY OF THE VILLAGE CHOWKEYDAR. 
 
 169 
 
 man’s estate my fattier, who had some influence with the 
 daroga , got me enrolled as a village watchman. I will 
 never forget the proud sensation I felt when strutting 
 about in my new uniform for the first time ! I imagined 
 all the town were looking at me. Casting about for some 
 object on which to show my authority, I spied a pan sel¬ 
 ler, whose stall projected about an eighth of an inch on 
 the public road, and I threatened to arrest him for caus¬ 
 ing an obstruction. “ Oh great maharaj ! ” exclaimed the 
 pan vendor joining his hands in a supplicating attitude 
 “forgive me this time and I’ll have the stall removed in 
 an instant.” “ No,” returned I, “ you must go to the 
 thanna; the principal thoroughfare of the town cannot be 
 obstructed in this manner.” The pan vendor continued 
 pleading, but I was not to be put off by empty talk. He 
 saw this, and resorted to other tactics. The accused then 
 made up a small packet of choice khilies , in the wrapper 
 of which, a silver piece was concealed. The packet of 
 khilies was placed on the corner of the stall in my direc¬ 
 tion, and the vendor with a significant look, as he pointed 
 to the peace-offering, asked permission to go into his shop 
 to procure a chudder to cover his body before accompany¬ 
 ing me to the police station. The permission asked for 
 was given, and during the absence of the vendor I picked 
 up the packet of pan . On his return I told him, that, as 
 it was his first offence, I would excuse him, but, at the same 
 time, warned him to be more careful in future. The vic¬ 
 tim joined his hands again and bowing low promised 
 compliance. I then walked away with an assumption of 
 importance that would put the newly elected Vice-Chair¬ 
 man of our newly created Municipality to the blush. This 
 was my first essay in the art of blackmailing. 
 
 Shortly after the event recorded above I was poste d to 
 
170 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 a village in Lower Bengal on the magnificent salary of 
 four rupeee a month. Even this sum, small as it was, 
 was not paid me regularly. The village headman, who 
 was virtually my lord and master, explained to me, when 
 I complained about my pay, how my predecessor used to 
 forage for himself, as he expressed it, without troubling 
 the rate-payers. “ Look here, my fine fellow,” said he to 
 me one morning after I had submitted my report, “ there 
 is a hat (market) held in the village of which you have 
 charge twice a week. It is entirely your own failt if you 
 do not squeeze your salary out of the stall-keepers Your 
 predecessor was able in ten years to retire a rich man, 
 though he never drew a rupee in the way of salary during 
 the whole period of his service. Now, my advice to you 
 is to go and do likewise.” I thanked the zemindar for 
 his advice, left his presence and waited patiently for hat 
 day. Hat day in due course arrived, and I set out to 
 levy my “ dues ” from the vendors. To my surprise, I 
 soon discovered, I was not the only person who exacted 
 “ dues ” from the vendors. The zemindar’s man was 
 there going round from stall to stall collecting tola (rent) 
 for the ground on which the vendor squatted. Next came 
 half a dozen boys collecting tola for the Brahmin 
 gurrumahasaya (the village schoolmaster). Then followed 
 a Brahmin priest exacting tax for the barwaripooja —a 
 religious ceremony held once a year in honour of the ? 
 village idols—towards the expense of which every good 
 Hindoo is bound to subscribe on pain of losing his cattle 
 by disease, or a member of his family through sickness, 
 or the failure of his crops through drought. With all 
 these interlopers and a host of others in the way, I quite 
 despaired of ever becoming rich from the tola collected at 
 the village hat. 
 
THE STORY OP THE VILLAGE CHOWKEYDAR. 
 
 171 
 
 Fortunately, I was not long at my new post when a 
 a circumstance occurred which made me independent of 
 the hat collections. A well-to-do family in the viilage had 
 a playful, winning, bright-eyed little girl of six which the 
 mother in the pride of her heart had covered with jewel¬ 
 lery. The little girl was dearly beloved by all the village. 
 Her parents worshipped her. One morning she had gone 
 out to play with other girls of her own age, but never 
 returned. The parents, when the child was missed, be¬ 
 came frantic with grief. All the village (for the news of 
 the missing child spread like wild fire) hastened to offer 
 condolence to the bereaved parents, and assist in the 
 search for the little darling. Parties of men distributed 
 themselves in various directions ; every house, every street, 
 every mangoe tope, every bamboo clump, every plantain 
 garden, every tamarind grove, and every nullah and piece 
 of jungle in the neighbourhood were searched, but in vain. 
 Fishermen turned out with thier nets to drag the tanks, 
 which were both large and numerous round the outskirts 
 of the village. At last the body of the missing child was 
 discovered ; but without its ornaments, in a disused tank 
 overgrown with rank weeds and aquatic plants. When 
 brought to shore marks of strangulation were visible on 
 the neck. The absence of the child’s ornaments left no 
 doubt as to the motive of the murder. 
 
 The Question now was—not, indeed, who murdered the 
 
 > * 
 
 child—but what should be done with the body. In this 
 dilemma the zemindar was appealed to for light and lead¬ 
 ing, and like a good Hindoo decided upon immediate 
 cremation. This decision had the approbation of the 
 whole village. But as it was contrary to law to dispose 
 of the body of the victim in a murder case without report¬ 
 ing the matter to the police, it was necessary to guard 
 
172 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 against unpleasant consequences. I was accordingly sent 
 for by the zemindar and let into the secret. “ Look here,” 
 said the great man addressing me for the first time in 
 his life in a soft and respectful tone, “ it would be a great 
 calamity, and a grave outrage against the whole Hindoo 
 community to deprive the afflicted parents of the murder¬ 
 ed child of the only comfort now left to them—that of 
 seeing the body of their little darling cremated. What 
 is the use of reporting the case to the authorities, for 
 even if the murderer were arrested and hanged that 
 would not bring the child back to life again. If an en¬ 
 quiry is held, the body of the child will be polluted. This 
 would not only be a great sin against our religion, but the 
 very remembrance of the outrage would darken the whole 
 future of the father and mother of the deceased. This 
 cannot be allowed. I, of course, acquiesced in all that the 
 zemindar had said and promised to be “ chup ,” and not 
 only that, I praised his piety and goodness of heart, so it 
 was settled to hush up the matter, and I consented for a 
 consideration, of course, to be out of the way during the 
 ceremony of cremation. This was good news to the 
 bereaved parents and extracted from the calamity its most 
 deadly pang. That evening the rite of cremation was 
 duly performed. 
 
 I now found myself in the happy position of Ali Baba 
 when he stumbled upon the robbers’ cave. I had only to 
 say Open Sesame , when I wanted money, and behold the 
 door of the zemindar’s treasury flew open at the sound. 
 
 But my success made me indiscreet. I grew too exact¬ 
 ing, and ultimately killed the goose that laid the golden 
 eggs. The zemindar at last grew tired of my black-mail¬ 
 ing and used his influence with my immediate superior to 
 have me transferred to a distant village. He was success- 
 
THE STORY OF THE VILLAGE CHOWKEYDAR. 17o 
 
 ful, and in order that I might not suspect the cause of the 
 change I was transferred on promotion. I was further in¬ 
 formed that my promotion, which carried with it increase of 
 pay, was due to the excellent character the zemindar had 
 given me ! “ Oh the scoundrel!” I said in my heart when 
 
 1 heard the news. But chup’s the word for the present 
 “I’ll be even with the rascal yet! ” I mentally exclaimed. 
 And though I showed no outward sign of inward feeling I 
 left the village vowing vengeance against the deceitful 
 zemindar. - 
 
 A few days after I had been installed in my new beat 
 
 « 
 
 I sent an anonymous letter to the Magistrate of the dis¬ 
 trict detailing the whole circumstances of the murder of 
 the little village beauty for the sake of her ornaments, and 
 the suppression of the crime at the instigation of the 
 zemindar. A dctroga a few days afterwards was deputed 
 by the Magistrate to enquire into the truth or otherwise 
 of my report. But, as I expected, nothing came of the 
 enquiry. Nevertheless, I had my revenge all the same. 
 
 I fastened on to the zemindar a parasite that would suck 
 more blood from the parent trunk than the one he had 
 succeeded in casting off. There is no vengeance so sweet 
 to a black-mailer as that of being able to turn the tables 
 on the man who refuses or objects to be victimised. 
 
 Having gained my object with regard to the perfidious 
 zemindar, I now set to work to seek new victims. I had 
 not long to wait. A well-to-do cultivator of the village 
 to which I had been recently transferred had married a 
 bouncing, blooming young damsel of sixteen, the daughter 
 of a distant relation. The husband was not only old, but 
 imbecile, and anything but a suitable partner for the 
 village beauty, as Alanga, for that was the name of the 
 young wife, was called. Like all village beauties, whether 
 
174 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 in the East or in the West, Alanga was fond of admira¬ 
 tion. Her visits to the public well, under pretence of 
 fetching water, often really not required, became daily 
 more frequent and prolonged. On one occasion it was 
 quite dark when she returned home and her husband 
 sternly demanded to know what had kept her out so long. 
 The young wife explained that she had met her cousin, 
 Gopenath, on the road, and he had detained her talking 
 about family matters. How this cousin was a gay young 
 fellow, with not the best of reputations, and the old man 
 forbade his wife talking to him again. “ What is the 
 harm in speaking to my cousin ? ” pouted the young beauty 
 indignantly. So after a pause she plucked up courage 
 and declared resolutely “ I will speak to my cousin again 
 whenever I meet him, I will! I will!! So there now!” 
 The old man was annoyed and confounded at this sudden 
 outburst of rebellion on the part of the hitherto obedient 
 and dutiful wife, and he resolved to nip any further deve¬ 
 lopment of it in the bud by giving the lovely Alanga a good 
 thrashing. This, of course, caused a great hullabaloo on 
 the part of the young wife, but did not seem to mend 
 matters in the least. 
 
 A day or two after this event the old man had to attend 
 court over some land dispute and was absent a couple of 
 days. When he returned Alanga was not to be found, 
 and sad to relate, the gay young cousin had also disap¬ 
 peared, and, with the pair, most of the old man’s family 
 jewels. This was a terrible blow to the old man, and he 
 looked quite dejected and crest-fallen. It is, however, 
 but fair to say he was more cut up over the loss of his 
 wife than that of the family jewels, though their value 
 was considerable. 
 
 In this dilemma the disconsolate husband sought my 
 
THE STORY OF THE VILLAGE CHOWKEYDAR. 
 
 175 
 
 advice and assistance. I told him I thought I knew 
 where the fugitives were to he found. He brightened up 
 at the news and offered me twenty rupees if I would take 
 him to the spot. I asked him to make it thirty, and, 
 after a good deal of haggling, he consented. This settled, 
 we both started in pursuit. Towards evening we came in 
 sight of a rest-house on the main road to the railway sta¬ 
 tion. Here I told the old man to sit down under a tree 
 and rest himself, and I would go on and make r enquiries. 
 He consented. I then went on to the rest-house, and 
 looking through a window I saw Alanga, and her cousin, 
 Gopenath, asleep on a mat on the floor. Returning to 
 the husband I told him what I had seen. “ But,” said I, 
 “ you had better remain here quietly and I will go back 
 and manage the whole affair for you much more satis¬ 
 factorily than if you appeared upon the scene.” The old 
 man consenting I returned to the rest-house and woke up 
 the fugitives. I threatened to take Gfopenath into custody 
 for enticing away a married woman with property. This 
 threat put the gay Lothario in a terrible funk. He begged 
 hard to be let off, pleading that he had only consented out 
 of pure kindness to accompany Alanga to her mother’s 
 because her husband had ill-treated her. Alanga sup¬ 
 ported her cousin’s statement. 
 
 “Well,” said I addressing the man, “you have got 
 yourself into a serious scrape. I have a warrant for your 
 arrest but if you give me fifty rupees I will let you go.” 
 Gopenath said he had not fifty rupees with him but offered 
 me thirty. This I refused. But after a good deal of 
 haggling I agreed to accept forty, which was made up 
 between the pair. Gopenath then made tracks by the 
 back door and escaped. 
 
 Having cleared the way I now began to talk to Alanga,. 
 
nu 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 and the more I saw of her the more she impressed me by 
 her good looks. I assured her that she had now nothing 
 to fear, that I would protect her from any further violence 
 at the hands of her husband, and was entirely at her ser¬ 
 vice. She thanked me most graciously for offering to 
 befriend her in her hour of need, which she believed, on 
 learning her husband was so close upon her track, was 
 nigh at hand. • 
 
 I now went back to the old man and said “ Look here 
 mahashai , your wife’s cousin has run away through fright, 
 but your wife is here and she is very angry. She says 
 that she was only going to her mother’s because you had 
 beaten her, and she vows that she will not return to you 
 again, and if you molest her she will lay a complaint 
 before the Magistrate. This is, therefore, a much more 
 serious business than I expected. I have fulfilled my 
 promise and brought you to where your wife is, but it 
 will be very difficult to persuade her to go back with you 
 again. I therefore decline to interfere further in the 
 case unless you give me another thirty rupees ; The old 
 man at first hesitated to do this, and said ; “ How do 1 
 know that my wife is in the rest-house as you represent.” 
 “ Oh ! I will soon satisfy you on that point ” returned 1. 
 “ But you must not go and speak to her in her present 
 temper,” so I took the old man to the window of the rest- 
 house and showed him his wife. She was seated weeping 
 in a corner of the room. The old man was now satisfied 
 and gave me another thirty rupees. I then advised him 
 to go back to his hiding place under the tree, and I would 
 go into the rest-house and teach his wife a lesson she 
 would not forget during the remainder of her life, unless 
 she consents to return peaceably to her husband’s hearth 
 and home. “ Very good ” replied the old man, “ but mind 
 
THE STORY OP THE VILLAGE CHOWKEYDAR. 
 
 177 
 
 you must not beat her too much, even if it is found neces¬ 
 sary to resort to such strong measures.” I accordingly 
 promised not to be over severe in the chastisement of his 
 wife. And so the old man hobbled off and lay down under 
 the tree again and was soon fast asleep. 
 
 He did not awake till broad daylight the next morning. 
 Starting to his feet he rubbed his eyes and began to look 
 about him. Finding no one near he repaired to the rest- 
 house, hoping to find that his wife had been brought to 
 see the error of her ways and was willing to return home 
 with him. Guess his surprise at finding we had both dis¬ 
 appeared. 
 
 The old man worked himself up into a towering passion. 
 He fumed and raged until he had collected the whole 
 neighbourhood. The result was, acting on the advice of 
 a friend, he went before the Magistrate and laid a com¬ 
 plaint against me for enticing away his wife. 
 
 I was immediately sent for, but strongly denied ever 
 having seen Alanga, except at a respectful distance in her 
 own village. 
 
 The old man was nonplussed. He had no witnesses, and 
 did not know what to do. Some hours afterwards he 
 
 received a message from Alanga herself offering to return 
 
 » 
 
 home with him if he consented to withdraw the charge 
 against me. The poor old man was most reluctant to do 
 this, but after a day’s delay, and finding Alanga would 
 not come to terms on any other condition, he yielded. It 
 was now my turn to be indignant. I went before the 
 Magistrate and demanded an enquiry, swore that my 
 reputation as an honest man had been ruined, and mad e 
 a terrible bluster. The result was the old man had to 
 pay me another thirty rupees as compensation for a false 
 charge. When everything had been settled and the 
 12 
 
178 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 money paid, Alanga went back to her husband, but to his 
 great sorrow he discovered that more than half the family 
 jewels had disappeared. These also had found their way 
 into my possession. Besides, I had the pleasure of a 
 good four days’ flirtation with the frail but fair Alanga. 
 
 The poor old man returned home a sadder but wiser 
 man, he was even too much down-hearted to use strong- 
 measures against his wife, and she vowed that if ever he 
 touched her again she would leave him at once and for¬ 
 ever. 
 
 Reckoning up the proceeds of my honest industry after 
 the elopement episode I found myself in possession of 
 sufficient funds to defray my marriage expenses. I con¬ 
 sequently applied for six months’ leave for the purpose. 
 But before arrangements could be made for my relief 
 another circumstance occurred in the village which pro¬ 
 mised to increase considerably my little store of savings. 
 
 The son of a respectable and well-to-do cultivator was 
 involved in an intrigue with a buxom young widow, the 
 daughter of an orthodox Hindoo family. The father of 
 the girl suspected what was going on, but did not like to 
 move in the matter for fear of scandal. I was privately 
 consulted, and suggested, as the best solution of the 
 problem, to get up a false case against the young widow’s 
 paramour and remove him from the neighbourhood. “But 
 how is it to be done ?” queried the girl’s father. “ Look 
 here,” said I, “nothing is easier. When you see him 
 prowling about the house to-night, you call out chor ! chor ! 
 (thief! thief) at the top of your voice. He will im¬ 
 mediately make tracks. I will be close at hand and give 
 chase. When arrested he’ll be found in possession of a 
 brass lotah which I expect you to be able to swear to 
 before the Magistrate, as your property, and you get rid,. 
 
THR STORY OF THE VILLAGE CHOWKEYDAR. m 
 
 to a dead certainty, of the violator of your family honour 
 and the disturber of your domestic tranquillity for six 
 months. Once convicted of theft he will give you no 
 more trouble, for the police can run him in on any nretence 
 ever after.” 
 
 My proposal was highly approved of and the girl’s 
 father acknowledged that I was a “ deuced clever fellow.” 
 That night the gay Lothario was locked up, with a clear 
 case of theft recorded against him. While the disappoint¬ 
 ed lover was in my power I tried to squeeze something 
 out of him, for, although I had been well paid by the 
 girl’s father, I always made it a rule to black-mail both 
 parties. My prisoner on this occasion, however, turned 
 sulky and refused to be squeezed. He would not, he said, 
 yield an inch; but on the other hand threatened to re¬ 
 venge the outrage as soon as he got his liberty. “ Will 
 you ! ” said I, “ just wait a minute and I’ll show you how 
 we treat such saucy customers as you!” So saying I 
 jumped up, procured a piece of hemp rope, the two ends 
 of which I made fast to his two great toes. The rope 
 was then passed round his neck and made fast. His arms 
 had been previouly tied behind his back. I next got a 
 piece of bamboo stick which I inserted between the open¬ 
 ings, and twisting it round tightened up the lashing as 
 you would tighten up a drum of jute. “ How ” said I 
 “ my good fellow, you remain in that position till you and 
 I come to terms.” The victim groaned but could make 
 no noise, for he was well gagged. 
 
 Tired out, I lay down and dropped off to sleep. When 
 I awoke the next morning I found my prisoner a corpse ! 
 I was horrified ! I saw in an instant there was nothing 
 left for me, but to seek safety in flight. I hastily collect¬ 
 ed what little money and valuables I had and bolted for 
 
180 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 ray life. I wandered about from place to place till I fell 
 in with our noble captain and his brave little band of 
 dacoits. Here I have lived in peace and security ever 
 
 erace. 
 
THE GHATAK’S STORY. 
 
 181 * 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE GHATAK’S STORY. 
 
 When the plaudits which followed the conclusion of 
 the chowkeydar’s narrative had subsided, the chief jumped 
 to his feet and proposed a vote of thanks to the narrator 
 for his very entertaining and instructive story. “ The 
 chowkeydar’s history,” the chief went oh to say, “ should 
 be published in every written and spoken language of the 
 East for the edification and instruction of our friends the 
 English, across the border. To this end I direct the 
 kerani of this honourable company of free-booters, our 
 worthy brother the Baboo, do record the chowkeydar’s 
 excellent narrative as we have just heard it from the lips 
 of the narrator. I must confess I never listened to a 
 more entertaining story. Its power of attracting and 
 
182 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 detaining attention is magical! It keeps tlie mind in 
 pleasing captivity from start to finish. My only regret is 
 that it has come so suddenly to an end. The remarkable 
 ingenuity, the original humour, the peculiarity of expres¬ 
 sion, the incidents, the circumstances, the surprises, the 
 jests of action, and the flashes of human nature so ex¬ 
 quisitely intermingled impart to the story an interest, a 
 fascination which places it on a level with anything in 
 the Arabian Nights.” 
 
 The chief resuming his seat amidst deafening cheers 
 called upon the Ghatak for the next story. The Ghatak 
 (the match-maker amongst the Hindoos) accordingly began 
 in this fashion. 
 
 Like my friend the chowkeydar I will begin by saying 
 I am the son of a Ghatak and the grandson of a Ghatak. 
 But here all resemblances ends, as far as our profession is 
 concerned, between us. The chowkeydar is hated but 
 feared, while I am loved and welcomed by every house¬ 
 hold where there is a young man or maiden to marry. 
 For what occupation can afford more pleasure than that 
 of bringing together and uniting in holy matrimony the 
 youth and beauty of favoured Bengal. There is not a 
 note of Apollo’s lute sounds half so sweet to the ears of 
 parents with marriageable sons and daughters as the 
 name of the Ghatak , the Indian Cupid, the servant of 
 Kamadeva as I am called. What a slow people the Chris¬ 
 tians must be to have no professional match-makers 
 amongst them! I am told the young people do their own 
 ghatkdli (courting) and very often in opposition to their 
 parents. But we do things better in India, our sages 
 were wiser men than the English. Byron says “ what 
 men call gallantry and gods adultery, is much more com¬ 
 mon where the climate’s sultry.” Byron evidently never 
 
THE GRATAE’S STORY. 
 
 183 
 
 visited India; globe-trotting was not in vogue in his time. 
 Though we live in a vapour bath one half of the year 
 and an atmosphere like the blast of a furnace the other 
 half, we have never had occasion to establish a divorce 
 court like some of the nations of the “ moral north.” This 
 all comes of allowing young people to marry without the 
 aid of a Ghatak. (Here a voice from one of the audience 
 interrupted the speaker). “ That’s all very well Ghatak 
 Mohasaya , but what will become of Othello’s occupation 
 when Hindu women are educated, zenanas and infant- 
 marriage abolished, and widow remarriage introduced ? 
 I guess young people will then want to copy their Euro¬ 
 pean sisters and do their own ghatkali and drive the pro¬ 
 fessional match-maker out of the field !” 
 
 “ Thank God,” replied the Ghatak “ I will not be alive 
 when these misfortunes overtake my people. Besides the 
 changes to which you refer are more remote than you ima¬ 
 gine. Hindooism existed before Christianity was thought 
 of, and match-making is as old as the hills. I can trace it 
 back from my own noble ancestors until it is lost in the 
 twilight of fable ! Depend upon it an institution of such 
 antiquity is not easily upset. I have no fear of being 
 driven off: the field by Hindoo reformers, though a country¬ 
 man of mine, like our friend the astrologer, has actually 
 made a voyage through space in a balloon! Ah my 
 friends! prejudices received in youth are not easily eradi¬ 
 cated, even in manhood, no matter what reformers may 
 say. I have great confidence in that. Look at the great 
 high priest of Brahmoism when he was actually denoun¬ 
 cing child-marriage in the Samaj, he had a Ghatak employ¬ 
 ed courting a Rajah for his infant daughter! Surely this 
 example is hopeful to the profession !” 
 
 Here the chief interposed and decided that the Ghatak 
 
184 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 had the best of the argument. The match-maker then 
 continued his story. 
 
 You see in Bengal every maiden must marry, whether 
 she wish it or not. It is the custom of the country. Be¬ 
 sides the ceremony must take place before the age of 
 puberty, which, in a tropical climate like Bengal, is never 
 later than the twelfth year. For a father to have an un¬ 
 married daughter in his house over that age is not only 
 to become an outcaste and forfeit every social position, 
 but even worse, it is regarded as a religious crime, in¬ 
 volving not only reprobation and degradation in this 
 world, but eternal punishment in the next. Oh great 
 Brahmo! what the mighty Pontiffs of Rome have done 
 for the ministers of the Catholic Church thou hast effect¬ 
 ed for the Ghatak. The rights and ceremonies prescribed 
 in both religions are so numerous and intricate that, to 
 the common understanding, they are quite bewildering, 
 and the church has set such extraordinary merit to the 
 faithful observance of these religious rights and ceremonies 
 that they are declared sufficient to pave the way to heaven 
 itself. The key to all this mystery, the Pope in the case 
 of Catholics has placed in the hands of the priests as 
 Brahmo has entrusted to the “ twice born ” the secrets of 
 Hindooism. 
 
 With these few prefatory remarks I will now proceed 
 with my story. 
 
 The first duty of a Ghatak is to make himself acquainted 
 with all the Hindoo families of his own caste in the dis¬ 
 trict in which he intends to carry on his profession. As 
 he goes about from village to village, he learns the names, 
 occupation and means of parents with marriageable sons 
 and daughters. My practice was always to unite families 
 living at a distance. This had many advantages. It 
 
THE GHATAK’S STORY. 
 
 185 - 
 
 enabled me to make all my maidens as gentle and beauti¬ 
 ful as Lakshmi, and all my swains as handsome and 
 accomplished as Kartikiya; though the one might be as 
 ugly as sin, and the other as deformed as deformity itself- 
 When I approached a village in my professional capacity, 
 all the children would run to tell their mothers that the 
 Ghatah had come ! Would not there be a commotion then 
 in every household to get a glimpse of the Indian Cupid! 
 and casting aside their household duties the women would 
 flee to every coign of vantage to see what house in the 
 village I was going to enter. If the owner had a son or 
 daughter to marry, my visit formed a subject of lively dis¬ 
 cussion for weeks afterwards, specially among the female 
 portion of the neighbourhood. But the interest of out¬ 
 siders is nothing compared to the pleasure my presence 
 creates amongst the members of the family with whom 
 my professional visit is concerned. Here I am always 
 received with open arms and exclamations of joy. The 
 Ghatah has come ! the Ghatah has come! one is sent off to 
 bring water to wash my feet, another to prepare the 
 hooka, a third to bring a lotah of milk, a fourth is despatch¬ 
 ed to the village jelliah to bespeak an excellent fish, a fifth 
 hurries off to the confectioner for some choice sweets, and 
 a sixth is told to run and call the head of the house, and 
 to say the Ghatak has come! 
 
 On the arrival of the head of the house, warm greetings 
 follow, and then we settle down to business. If my host 
 has a daughter to marry, I have a husband in view for her, 
 handsome, accomplished, and of good parentage. If, on 
 the other hand, a son is to be provided with a life partner, 
 I am equally fortunate in having at my command a 
 second Lakshmi, a fair sweet creature, that to gaze upon 
 would steal away the senses! and to crown all of high 
 
186 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 caste. Of course it is my business not only to please, but 
 deceive both parties to the contract. And the greater the 
 deception the greater the remuneration, for I make both 
 sides pay equally for my services. This is liow I manage 
 it. I say to the father of the intended bride, “ Look 
 here, the other side have given me so much for this 
 negotiation. You cannot do less, and maintain your social 
 position, than follow their example. When I interview the 
 bridegroom’s party I advance the same argument. I 
 never found it to fail. There is no ceremony, religious or 
 otherwise, that opens the heart, and, I may also add, the 
 purse strings of a Hindoo like that of marriage. It seems 
 to me an extremely short-sighted policy on the part of the 
 Indian Grovernment not to tax them. No one would attempt 
 to evade the payment of such a tax as they do the income- 
 tax. Besides it would be extremely popular with the 
 people. If ever I have an opportunity of speaking to the 
 Viceroy or his Financial Minister I will give them the 
 benefit of my experience on the subject. 
 
 But to resume my story. I must admit that occasion¬ 
 ally I have some very hard bargains to deal with. A 
 father has got a deformed daughter and he wants her off 
 his hands. I have to use all my persuasive eloquence to 
 get her mated. In critical cases of this kind I generally 
 select an equally deformed bridegroom and persuade the 
 parents of the children that the one is as beautiful as 
 Lakshmi, and the other is a second Kartikiya. All parties 
 are delighted, and both sides pay handsomely. These 
 negotiations are the most profitable, 
 
 I now come to the turning point of my career as a 
 Ghatak. A well-to-do zemindar, considerably advanced 
 in life, had taken it into his head to marry a third wife. 
 His two first wives were still living, har h had in iliili l iTn 
 
THE GHATAK’S STORY. 
 
 187 
 
 1 was engaged to negotiate in tlie matter. The old man 
 did not want a child-wife, hut a woman who could make 
 herself generally useful and assist with the cooking and 
 other household duties. I searched high and low, but for 
 the life of me could not hit upon the exact thing wanted. 
 It had got noised abroad that the old man was eccentric 
 and only wanted to make a collection of wives and shut 
 them up in a kind of harem for life. No one could there¬ 
 fore be persuaded to become Mrs. Chandra number three 
 on any consideration. I was forced to confess myself 
 fairly beaten, for the first time in my life. Poor old 
 Chandra appeared quite crestfallen when he heard the 
 story of my failure. He could not understand any woman 
 refusing to marry him, or any father not jumping at the 
 chance of getting a daughter provided for. I was told to 
 try again with a promise of having my fee doubled if I 
 succeeded. I consented to make another trial, though I 
 was not very sanguine of success. 
 
 Some days after my interview with the zemindar a 
 strolling actor happened to pass through my village. He 
 had amongst his company a young man of about eighteen 
 years of age who used to dance and sing in the disguise of a 
 woman. As the boy had been brought up to this profes¬ 
 sion from a very early age his hair was long, he wore ear¬ 
 rings, nose-ring and in fact, everything necessary to com¬ 
 plete the disguise. It struck me at once that this boy 
 would suit the zemindar’s purpose to a tee, so taking the 
 lad’s master aside I confided to him the project I had in 
 view. He offered to place the boy at my disposal on 
 condition of sharing the reward. To this I readily con¬ 
 sented. I explained both to the master and man that the 
 latter would not be called upon to perform any of the 
 duties of a wife beyond assisting the women of the zenana 
 
188 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 in cooking and such like household matters. “ Besides ” 
 said I, “ you can clear out at any time should you find the 
 life of a zenana irksome. And it is your own fault if 
 you leave the zemindar empty-handed.” 
 
 The hoy under these conditions agreed to go through the 
 ceremony of marriage and become Mrs. Chandra number 
 three. 
 
 This little matter settled I hastened to the zemindar fa 
 acquaint him of my success. 
 
 He was delighted. Before we parted a day was fixed 
 for bringing home the bride. 
 
 In order that there might be nothing wanting to give 
 due solemnity to the occasion, the boy’s hair was neatly 
 braided, his feet painted with alakta , his body rubbed with 
 turmeric and enveloped in a red silk sade. 
 
 Thus altered he was put into a palanquin and conveyed 
 to the zemindar’s residency. Chandra, however, in con¬ 
 sequence of a severe attack of his old enemy, asthma, 
 was unable to leave his bed to welcome his new bride and 
 she was, therefore, relegated to the Andarmahal. I never¬ 
 theless received my fee in full all the same, and wishing 
 the old man joy of his bargain, departed. Days and 
 weeks went on, and contrary to my expectation that the 
 boy would get tired of life in a zenana, and make his escape, 
 he never turned up. He had, it appears, for his com¬ 
 panions in the zenana the zemindar’s second wife and her 
 two widowed sisters, all young women under twenty-three, 
 besides two daughters of the first wife still in their teens. 
 With these pleasant companions the boy felt no inclination 
 to change his quarters. Indeed, compared with the life 
 of a strolling actor, or natch girl this is not to be wondered 
 at. But what appeared the strangest part of the business 
 was, that contrary to custom, the chhota balm (the young- 
 
THE GHATAK’S STORY. 
 
 189 
 
 -est wife) excited no jealousy among her companions. In¬ 
 deed, it was observed that since her arrival the little 
 jealousy that formerly existed in the zenana had com¬ 
 pletely disappeared and all the young women vied with 
 each other in doing little services for the chliota bahu! 
 The old husband was in raptures over his happy family! 
 
 But at last the secret became too prominent for con¬ 
 cealment ! The old man’s second wife, her two widowed 
 sisters, and his two daughters were about to become 
 mothers! - 
 
 The scandal spread like wild fire through the neigh¬ 
 bourhood. It reached the ears of the Magistrate and the 
 police. The boy was arrested and committed to the ses¬ 
 sions on a charge of false personation for the purpose of 
 cheating.* A warrant at the same time was issued for 
 my arrest for aiding and abetting the offence. This put 
 an end to my Ghathali. I was obliged to flee from British 
 territory and after much wandering about from one native 
 State to another at last enrolled myself in the ranks of this 
 honourable company of freebooters. 
 
 The zemindar’s happy family, I learned from the columns 
 of a native paper, so it must be true, had to undergo the 
 usual penance prescribed by Hindoo custom for “love 
 unlawful ”—a cold suttee —which corresponds with a cere¬ 
 mony in favour amongst the Turks for a similar offence, 
 namely, a bag and the Bosphorus! 
 
 * Fact. 
 
190 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE STORY OF AX EX-C. S. 
 
 When the story of the Ghatak , which was received with 
 tremendous applause, was concluded, the chief next called 
 upon Ram-Jaun-Chunder-Chuckerbutty to continue the 
 entertainment by a recital of his experience before 
 becoming a dacoit, for the edification of his brethren in 
 crime. Here some one of the assembled outlaws remarked 
 “ If the forthcoming story is to be us long as the name of 
 the narrator, we had better retire from labour to refresh¬ 
 ment before settling down to listen to its recital.” This 
 witticism created another outburst of laughter, and as 
 the merriment subsided Ram- Jaun-Chunder-Chuckerbutty, 
 in obedience to his chief’s command, began his story in 
 this manner. 
 
THE STORY OF AN EX-C. S. 
 
 191 
 
 Lord Salisbury, if report be true, once said in the House 
 of Lords, that he never could distinguish what possible 
 connection there was between the diminution of crime 
 and the spread of education. Crime, he thought, was “ a 
 consequence of moral depravity,” and though you might 
 change the nature of the crime by diverting the criminal’s 
 tastes and powers into new channels, you would not di¬ 
 minish the “ moral depravity ” in him by altering the 
 direction of his desires, and putting new and more power¬ 
 ful tools into his hands. This celebrated speech of the 
 noble Marquis, of course, had reference to England, when 
 the educational mania was at its height, but his words- 
 would apply with even greater force to the state of India 
 at the present day. Here we have hair-brained enthusi¬ 
 asts going mad over popular education. They are in such 
 hot haste to make everybody scholars that the funda¬ 
 mental principles of education are entirely lost sight of. 
 Government schools and colleges are cramming the people 
 with secular instruction and purging them of all the little 
 morality and respect for the gods they ever possessed. 
 What is the consequence P I will answer the question in 
 the relation of my own private history. 
 
 My name is Ram-Jaun-Chunder-Chuckerbutty, son of 
 Ram Mohon Chunder Chuckerbutty of Eastern Bengal. 
 My father was what is generally called an “upstart” 
 among the native aristocracy. He had risen from com¬ 
 parative poverty to wealth and influence as a money¬ 
 lender ; thanks to the severe but just law of the foreigner, 
 which not only allows a man to charge one hundred and 
 fifty per cent, interest on capital, but compels the debtor 
 to pay it. My father’s greatest ambition was to see his 
 son a C. S. To this end he spared neither trouble nor 
 expense. I was sent to England to be educated, and as I 
 
192 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 was the first Hindoo who had crossed the “ black water ” 
 for the purpose, the eyes of all India were upon me. In 
 England itself I was regarded as a natural curiosity, and 
 was in consequence lionised by the people. At least that 
 section of the British Public who delight in always having 
 something new and rare wherewith to entertain their 
 friends. At garden parties and other social gatherings I 
 was the centre of attraction. Everyone wanted to know 
 something of my history. The ladies in particular paid 
 me most attention. This flattered my vanity, for I re¬ 
 garded the circumstance as an indication that the sweet- 
 little dears preferred me to their own countrymen. I was 
 soon, however, disillusionised, for one day at a garden 
 party at Lady Dashwood’s, where I was the observed of 
 all observers, I overheard a haughty young beauty ask 
 her father if “ it,” alluding of course to me, could speak. 
 The remark actually made me “ blush,” if an Indian were 
 ever known to blush. My vanity was dashed, I was 
 stung to the quick, and from that instant I conceived the 
 bitter and deep-rooted hatred of the English that has 
 grown and strengthened with my years. “ Ah,” said I to 
 myself, “my haughty young beauty, the ‘it’ cannot only 
 speak but ‘ its ’ burning eloquence will one day set the 
 Ganges on fire and shake the British power in the East 
 to its very foundation. True the day may be far distant. 
 But the Bengalis are a patient race, and if there is any¬ 
 thing in the world they understand better than another, it 
 is the art of waiting.” So I waited and went on with my 
 studies, or as my school mates called it, cramming. I 
 never lost sight of the purpose for which I had been sent 
 to England, namely, to enter the Indian Civil Service by 
 the door of competition. This as I have already said, 
 was my father’s ambition, and it accorded well with my 
 
THE STORY OF AN EX-C. S. 
 
 193 
 
 own inclinations, and though the desire to learn does not 
 always include the faculty to acquire, I had an excellent 
 memory, which enabled me to distance students of more 
 powerful intellects. This is the great secret of success so 
 remarkable in my countrymen at examinations. The 
 memory does duty for intellect. So my progress was 
 watched in England with much interest and in India with 
 pride and enthusiasm. I knew this and the knowledge 
 made me redouble my exertions. I never for a moment 
 anticipated failure. 
 
 In due course I passed through the mill with flying 
 colours and blossomed into a proud “ Civilian.” All 
 India was jubilant. The Hindus celebrated the event by 
 special pujahs and tendered offerings to their gods. I 
 was welcomed back to Bengal with ostentatious rejoicing. 
 I had expected on my return to India, like most young 
 Civil Servants, to have been posted to some obscure sub¬ 
 division of a district, but the Government out of respect 
 to the feelings of the people appointed me a Magistrate 
 in the first city in India. This gave occasion for still 
 further rejoicing on the part of of my countrymen. And 
 I myself felt grateful to the British Government for 
 the honour and indulgence so liberally bestowed upon 
 me. 
 
 Although I was fully alive to the fact that my appoint¬ 
 ment w'as regarded in the light of an “ experiment ” and 
 that my conduct and working would be strictly watched, 
 I nevertheless entered upon my new duties and respon¬ 
 sibilities with an honest determination to administer the 
 law with strict impartiality and to serve the British 
 Government with fidelity. I had by this time almost for¬ 
 gotten and fully forgiven the wound inflicted on my 
 vanity by the remark of the fair Saxon while prosecuting 
 13 
 
194 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 my studies in England. I often thought to myself “ What 
 would she say now if she saw me in all the power and 
 dignity of office, dealing out justice to black and white 
 alike ? I suppose she would start with surprise and 
 exclaim “ Oh ! father look ! it can really speak P ” 
 
 I was getting on swimmingly in my new office. Every¬ 
 thing was in my favour, the press and the public had 
 been extremely indulgent to my shortcomings during my 
 novitiate. I had got over the timidity and bashfulness 
 due to inexperience ; and was just beginning to feel my 
 feet when black misfortune’s withering blast nipped all 
 my future prospects in the bud ! A European gentleman 
 had brought a charge of theft against a servant, the case 
 was sent to me for trial. I considered the evidence in¬ 
 sufficient to warrant a conviction and I consequently dis¬ 
 missed the suit. The plaintiff, who was dissatisfied with 
 my decision, appealed. This was a fresh sting to my 
 vanity. I knew my records would be called for, and pro¬ 
 bably my judgment reversed, or the case sent before the 
 Chief Magistrate for retrial. If a conviction followed I 
 might be reprimanded, possibly considered unfit for my 
 post, The thought was intolerable. What was I to do 
 under the circumstances ? An Englishman would have 
 taken the matter quietly and philosophically. At least 
 he would not have committed a real crime to cover an 
 error of judgment. But I was differently situated. I was 
 on my trial. The eyes of all India were upon me. In 
 this dilemma my nature rose superior to my English train¬ 
 ing. I flew to the only weapen of defence known to a 
 Bengali— deceit! I tampered with tbe record of the case 
 before producing it. I erased part of the plaintiff’s evi¬ 
 dence and so altered the remainder that it would appear 
 the accused was acquitted on good and sufficient grounds. 
 
THE STORY OF AN EX-C. S. 
 
 195 
 
 But I had reckoned without my host. There was then a 
 man at the head of the city police who was not to he taken 
 in by my artfulness. My books were seized and I was 
 suspended pending the orders of Government. A com¬ 
 mission was appointed to enquire into my conduct. I was 
 found guilty of tampering with judicial documents on the 
 clearest evidence and recommended for dismissal from the 
 service of the State. The Government concurring, gave 
 immediate effect to the recommendation of the commis¬ 
 sion and I was sent forth into the world degraded and 
 disgraced. 
 
 The news of my misfortune was received by my coun¬ 
 trymen of Bengal with grief and dismay. My degradation 
 was considered a national calamity, And so indeed it 
 was. The first experiment of entrusting a native with 
 high judicial powers had failed. But the cause of my 
 failure itself was not regarded by my countrymen in the 
 light of a crime for which I was personally responsible. 
 My failings lay deep in the national character and only 
 rose to the surface in the hour of trial. It is to this feel¬ 
 ing I owe all the sympathy I have received from my' 
 countrymen ever since my fall. Other nationalities 
 would have hated and despised the most popular member 
 of their community if he had done half what I did to 
 lower their national character in the eyes of the world. 
 Not so the Bengalis. Though I am now a fugitive from 
 justice and associated with a band of dacoits my name is 
 the most popular name in India; and that not only with 
 the common people, but amongst the educated classes. If, 
 therefore, proof were wanting to show that education has 
 little or no influence on national character, here we have 
 it in.abundance. But the English are a credulous people 
 ■and nothing will shake their belief in the efficiency of 
 
196 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 tlieir educational institutions to change the nature of 
 man. Nothing amused me so much, when I was in Eng¬ 
 land, as the treatment of the criminal classes. When 
 any wholly uneducated individual committed some deed 
 of savage violence, it was immediately put down to his 
 Cimmerian darkness and the convicting magistrate would 
 prescribe for him a curriculum of “ three It’s.” Accord¬ 
 ingly, all convicted criminals of this description are 
 handed over to the schoolmaster the moment they enter 
 a prison for elementary education ! The advocates of 
 education assert that all kinds of reformation are to be 
 effected by means of reading, writing, and arithmetic. 
 The demon of burglary may be clean exorcised by a 
 knowledge of long division and the rule of three ! No man, 
 they maintain, will ever be found guilty of robbery with 
 violence who can “ work obligations and write court 
 hand,” and from the day that a youth is able to read with 
 ease and fluency he is safeguarded against all temptations 
 to peculation! And all this, mind you, in the teeth of 
 the strongest and most convincing proof to the contrary. 
 What does their own favourite poet say on the subject ? 
 When Jack Cade heard that the Clerk of Chatham had 
 been caught setting boys copies, he exclaimed, “ Here’s 
 a villain!” That rough and ready moralist of Shakes- 
 .pear’s creation evidently regarded education itself as an 
 actual phase of crime, and the attempt to impart it as 
 sheer villainy. But times have changed since Shakespeare 
 wrote the above. Not so, however, human nature. That 
 is always the same. 
 
 I will relate one or two well authenticated instances of 
 the inefflcacy of education and the most careful religious 
 moral training combined to influence national character. 
 
 The story of Edmund Sandilli, to begin with, is a 
 
THE STORY OF AN EX-C. S. 
 
 197 
 
 strong point, He was a show pnpil like myself, received 
 an excellent English education, was appointed a Deputy 
 Magistrate at Cape Colony. He lunched with Sir Bartle 
 Erere and other high officials and magnates of the colony 
 when His Excellency visited the Eastern Provinces, at¬ 
 tended the State ball, in white tie and “ claw hammer,” 
 but two days afterwards he fled to the bush and in course 
 of time was killed, wearing the martial costume of a 
 blanket and a daub of clay ! Then, again, there is the 
 case of the missionary Dukwaria, a popular preacher, a 
 champion of Sunday Schools, and a rich man to boot. He 
 likewise took to the bush, the blanket and the daub of 
 paint, ending his days like the young warrior Edmund 
 Sandilli. To come nearer home, we have an instance of 
 the wife of an English missionary at Simla adopting a 
 native child, educating her, and bringing her up under 
 the most careful Christian training. She was only two 
 years of age when taken in hand, and could have known 
 nothing about her people or parentage, yet at the age of 
 twenty she fled to the hills and was afterwards discovered 
 in a village wearing the costume of her tribe. 
 
 Mr. Reid, in one of his Indian publications, relates a 
 remarkable, but amusing, instance of a half-civilized rob¬ 
 ber chief who had been induced to visit Calcutta during 
 the stay of his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales at 
 Government House. The chief conducted himself with 
 great dignity and decorum until one day he was suddenly 
 confronted with an irresistible temptation, when his na¬ 
 tional characteristics flashed out in an instant. Here is 
 the story in the author’s own words: During the visit of 
 his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales to Caleutta, 
 amongst the numerous potentates who had come to pay 
 their respects to England’s future king, were some Afridi 
 
198 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 chiefs. In order that the latter might carry back with 
 them an account of the power and resources of the British 
 Government in the East, Mr. Superintendent Reid, who 
 was in special attendance upon His Royal Highness, was 
 told to take the chiefs round the city and show them all 
 that was worth seeing. Accordingly, the officer accom¬ 
 panied the strangers to Fort William, where they were- 
 taken over the arsenal; then the mint, the dockyard, the 
 gun foundry, and every other place calculated to impress 
 the guests with England’s greatness, were inspected. 
 Strange to say, during this round of visits, not one of 
 these savage chiefs uttered a single expression of either 
 surprise or admiration of anything they had seen; though 
 such sights must necessarily have been quite new to them. 
 This may be partly due to the fact that they did not fully 
 comprehend the use or utility of w'hat they had witness¬ 
 ed. On returning to Calcutta, the strangers expressed a 
 wish to alight from their carriage and walk up Old Court 
 House Street to see the preparations that were being 
 made for the illuminations. The request was complied 
 with; and the party proceeded on foot from the Scotch 
 Kirk towards Government House. On arriving opposite 
 the extensive show rooms of Messrs. Hamilton and Co.,, 
 the jewellers, a venerable old chief of some seventy sum¬ 
 mers, stopped short, as if shot through the heart; and' 
 joining his hands together exclaimed in an ecstacy of de¬ 
 light, “ Oh ! Sir, what a place to loot!! ” The incident 
 was related to his Royal Highness at dinner, and it so 
 tickled his fancy, that he could not refrain from laughing 
 the whole of the evening. 
 
 The above examples will, I think, satisfy any reasonable 
 being that it is not in the power of education or training, 
 even under the most favourable circumstances, to wholly 
 
THE STORY OP AN EX-C. S. 
 
 199 
 
 obliterate the natural characteristics of a nation or people. 
 
 I will now return to my own personal narrative. It 
 will not be surprising when you hear that the loss of my 
 appointment in the Civil Service, embittered my hatred 
 of the English. I resolved henceforth to become a thorn 
 in the side of the Indian Government. To this end I 
 started a vernacular paper and established a training 
 school. In the former I abused the administration and 
 all the European servants of Government. And in the 
 latter I taught the rising generation to hate their foreign 
 rulers. I was the moving spirit in all political movements. 
 My countrymen delighted in calling me the Daniel O’Con* 
 nel and the Parnell of India, just as they have been lately 
 comparing Tantia Bheel to the Robin Hood of England l 
 As yet I had only become popular among the educated 
 class. But in order to extend my influence to the masses, 
 I discarded the coat and hat which I had continued to 
 wear after my return from England and donned the con¬ 
 ventional dhotee of my forefathers. The popular enthusi¬ 
 asm was unbounded when I first appeared in public in 
 my national costume. It was like Edmund Sandilli and 
 the missionary Dukwaria returning to their tribes with a 
 blanket and a daub of paint! How they must have been 
 received with open arms by their people and kindred ! 
 So I continued to grow in popularity with my countrymen 
 and disfavour with the ruling race as my influence ex- 
 
 4 
 
 tended. But my success made me indiscreet. I conceived 
 the idea that I held the key to a popular rising against 
 the foreigner, I was mistaken; not in the fact that, how¬ 
 ever, my countrymen were not ripe for revolt, but they 
 were not prepared to go beyond the “ agitation stage ” 
 when the time came to strike a blow for liberty. 
 
 I was, in consequence, left in the lurch and had no 
 
200 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 other alternative but to flee the country, to avoid a pro¬ 
 secution for inciting the people to revolt. It is to this 
 incident, my friends, you are indebted for the honour of 
 counting amongst your members an ex-Civilian ! 
 
 . 
 
 IN’. B. —Though the author of these “ character sketches ” 
 is obliged, occasionally, to illustrate his subject with examples 
 from life, he begs to assure his readers that in the whole series 
 of stories he has not written a single line intentionally per - 
 sonal. Ridicule, it is true, has been freely used, as in the 
 story of the Ghatak, but he trusts not abused. A page of 
 satire has often done more to effect social reform than a quarto 
 volume of serious writing. Men shrink from ridicule who 
 have no regard for law, religion, or public opinion. 
 
 v 
 
 
 r 
 
THE STORY OF A PROFESSIONAL BURGLAR. 
 
 201 
 
 •j 
 
 i 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE STORY OF A PROFESSIOXAL BURGLAR. 
 
 The ex-Civilian Laving finished his interesting narra¬ 
 tive the chief called upon Sahib Jaun for the next story, 
 who thus began :— 
 
 I am known to the Police of Calcutta as Sahib Jaun, 
 but in almost every other town and district in British 
 India, and there are few places in that vast Empire that 
 I have not honoured with a visit, I was recognised by a 
 different appellation. In fact, I had adopted so many 
 aliases in my time, that I have quite forgotton my original 
 name, if I ever had any, which is very doubtful. The 
 name by which I am now known to you all, Sahib Jaun, 
 was given me by the Detective Superintendent of the 
 Calcutta Police, because I bore a striking resemblance to 
 
202 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 a celebrated burglar of that name. My parents I liad 
 never known. And it was from the mouth of the detec¬ 
 tive officer who named me Sahib Jaun I first heard any¬ 
 thing of my early history. I was being tried at the 
 Criminal Sessions of the Calcutta High Court for petty 
 theft, and as it was my nineteenth offence, while I was 
 scarcely fifteen years of age the presiding Judge expressed 
 a wish, before pronouncing sentence against me, to learn 
 something of my early history. I was consequently re¬ 
 manded to enable the Police to make the necessary 
 enquiries. Here is the result in the very words of the 
 enquiring officer:— 
 
 ‘ I am Superintendent of the Calcutta Detective Police . 
 Force. I know the prisoner now before the Court. I 
 produce his former convictions. He was first convicted of 
 theft at the age of eight years. Since then he has had 
 five whippings and undergone thirteen terms of imprison¬ 
 ment. All for petty theft. As requested by your Lord- 
 ship, I have made careful enquiries regarding the prisoner’s 
 early history. His parents are unknown. It appears he 
 was found at one of the bathing ghats on the Strand 
 Road, when only a few days old, by a woman who had' 
 been divorced from her husband because she bore him no 
 offspring. On seeing the deserted child, the woman at 
 once conceived the idea that it might be the means of re¬ 
 conciling her to her husband, and she picked it up and car¬ 
 ried it home. Her husband had been away from Calcutta 
 at the time on a pilgrimage, and on his return she present¬ 
 ed him with a son and heir, which she said she had given- 
 birth to during his absence. The old man was delighted, 
 and received his wife and, as he thought, child, back to 
 his hearth and home, with great ceremonial display. In 
 the joy of his heart he believed that God had given him 
 
THE STORY OF A PROFESSIONAL BURGLAR. 
 
 203 ' 
 
 a son to comfort his old age, as a reward for having under¬ 
 taken a pilgrimage to Mecca. 
 
 ‘ But unfortunately for the prisoner his supposed 
 father died when he was only three years of age. The 
 old man left his wife in very good circumstances, with 
 ample means to provide for and educate the child who’ 
 had been a comfort to his declining years. The prisoner’s 
 reputed mother, however, soon after her husband’s death 
 married again. Her second husband was not only a 
 drunkard, but a notorious gambler, and in the course of a 
 year succeeded in squandering the whole of his wife’s 
 property. Then followed a course of cruel and brutal 
 •treatment which, coupled with want and neglect, soon 
 sent her to her grave. The prisoner was now, at the age 
 of four, turned into the street to shift for himself. He 
 joined company with a number of other lads similarly 
 situated, who picked up a living by collecting grain and 
 seeds at the various landing and shipping ghats along the 
 Strand Road. As he grew older and more experienced 
 he took to bleeding the bags of grain as they were being 
 conveyed to the shipping in carts. It is for this offence 
 he has been so frequently convicted. The boys with 
 whom he associated had no house. In the summer they 
 used to sleep at the ghats in the open air, and in the cold 
 winter nights they would skulk into the enclosure of 
 the burning ghat and sleep on the weather side of a 
 funeral pyre for warmth.* ’ Here the Police officer con¬ 
 cluded his evidence and the Judge prepared to pass sen¬ 
 tence. Before doing so, however, he read me a nice little 
 lecture. He began by saying, ‘ Prisoner at the bar, from 
 what I have just heard of your early history, your mis¬ 
 fortunes and temptations I am more inclined to consider 
 
 # Fact every word of it! 
 
204 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 yon a victim to society’s neglect tlian a criminal!’ Hope 
 springs eternal in the human breast! and these words of 
 his Lordship encouraged me to hope. I joined my hands 
 closer together, and in a supplicating attitude leaned over 
 the rails of the dock to listen more attentively to what 
 was to follow. The Judge turning to the jury continued, 
 * Gentlemen, you did your duty in finding the prisoner 
 guilty on the evidence placed before you, and it now 
 rests with me to deal with the culprit. He has been 
 found guilty of committing the offence of theft and has 
 admitted to nineteen previous convictions! But I put it 
 to you, gentlemen, as men of experience, as men of sense, 
 are not this lad’s crimes the product of circumstances and 
 temptations for which, in the sight of God, we can scarcely 
 hold him accountable ? ’ (Great sensation in Court and 
 my hopes of acquittal rose higher and higher.) Then ad¬ 
 dressing himself to me, his Lordship proceeded, ‘ Prison¬ 
 er, as society has failed to do its duty by you, I must 
 protect you against society’s neglect. You will be im¬ 
 prisoned for seven years! By that time the world will 
 have been educated up to a sense of its duties to its 
 younger and weaker members. In the meantime, you 
 will be sheltered against temptation and demoraliza¬ 
 tion. The fact of such lads pursuing a systematic 
 course of crime is entirely due to the public having 
 hitherto adopted the saying of Cain:—“Am I my 
 brother’s keeper ? ” Now, however, I am glad to believe 
 that a more righteous feeling is setting in, and I 
 look forward to a more creditable state of things in 
 the future. If I awarded you a short sentence, you 
 would only return to your evil ways and old confederates, 
 before the good age comes. But at the end of seven 
 years society will have grown wiser and good enough to 
 
THE STORY OF A PROFESSIONAL BURGLAR. 
 
 205 
 
 take care of yon. Yon may then be safety trnsted into 
 the hannts of men once more P ’ 
 
 Here his Lordship leaned back in his chair amidst 
 profound silence. The sentence went like an ice bolt 
 through my heart and literally took my breath away. 
 Jury, Counsel and spectators were astonished. Everybody 
 had expected a totally different conclusion to the Judge’s 
 peroration. 
 
 I was removed from the dock and sent to No. 1, Chow- 
 ringhee, there to remain in duresse till the arrival of the 
 social millenium—till the world had grown wise and 
 good enough to take care of me ! I was not incarcerated, 
 mind you, in order to punish me for having done a wrong 
 thing, according to the clear, stern old fashion, which 
 tried to punish for vice as well as for crime. I was not 
 put under restraint in order that by my punishment others 
 might be warned against crime in the future, according to 
 a principle of more modern birth. Nor was I taken pos¬ 
 session of and locked up in order that I might be reformed 
 # and taught to be good, in obedience to the still more re¬ 
 cent theory of punishment for crime. It was not to pro¬ 
 tect society against me that I was kept in confinement, 
 but rather to protect me against society. Oh! wise and 
 upright Judge, verily a Daniel has come to judgment. ^ 
 entered prison a petty pilferer. I left it an accomplished 
 burglar. In consequence of the number of convictions, 
 against me I was sent to herd with the “ habituals.” 
 
 • There were some twenty of us, nearly all house-breakers ; 
 desperate and daring characters. They used to sit up or 
 lie awake to a late hour every night recounting their 
 exploits and the schemes and subterfuges resorted to in 
 order to avoid detection and elude the Police. Their con¬ 
 versation made a deep and lasting impression upon me. 
 
•206 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 Sometimes a dispute would arise between two great bur¬ 
 glars as to who could break into a house in the shortest 
 possible time. The question was generally settled by the 
 two disputants setting to work with a four-inch nail to 
 see who could displace the first brick from the solid wall 
 of the cell in the shortest possible time, and make the 
 least noise in doing it. In this way I learned many use¬ 
 ful lessons which T. turned to good and profitable account 
 in after life. With such companions my time in jail 
 passed pleasantly enough. Most of the “habituals” had 
 a deposit with their “ fence,” which the latter managed to 
 convey into jail through the prison warders. We were 
 therefore, able to procure many luxuries denied to the 
 less fortunate inmates of the other sections of the prison. 
 
 In due course my time expired and I was set at liberty. 
 Society I soon discovered was much in the same state as 
 when I. quitted it seven years before. People were just 
 as little disposed to depart from the saying of Cain :—“ Am 
 I my brother’s keeper ? ” as ever. So I set to work to pay 
 back society for its neglect of its younger and weaker 
 members. My first victim was the Judge who had sent 
 me to prison.* He was a great collector of ancient coins 
 and I robbed him of the work of a lifetime. I got the 
 information of where the coins were kept from a discharged 
 servant. 
 
 After this I had a long and successful career of crime, 
 during which I visited most of the large towns and cities 
 of British India. I made, what in some parts of the 
 world, is deemed necessary to an accomplished gentleman, 
 
 “ The grand tour ! ” I had only come .to grief once in ten 
 years and that was in Assam. But as I was unknown to 
 the Police my sentence was a short one. Nevertheless, it 
 
 * Fact! 
 
THE STORY OF A PROFESSIONAL BURGLAR. 
 
 207 
 
 was the most profitable period of my life. The jailor was 
 •a Bengalee Baboo. He had got to hear of my ability as a 
 burglar and I was not long in finding out his accommodat¬ 
 ing qualities as a jailor. We, therefore, soon came to an 
 understanding advantageous to both of us. He used to 
 let me out of prison in the evening and receive me back 
 in the morning on condition of sharing the result of the 
 night’s adventure.* This went on during the whole 
 period of my incarceration. The booty collected in that 
 time was large and valuable. But I was cute enough 
 not to bring all that fell into my hands back to prison 
 with me. I buried the most valuable. And it was well 
 I did so, for the Baboo, acting after his kind, on my 
 release refused to deliver up my share of the swag. I 
 had my revenge, however. The burglaries in the neigh¬ 
 bourhood of the jail had created quite a sensation through¬ 
 out the district. The Police were abused and some 
 of them transferred for not being able to discover the 
 house-breakers. I knew that any clue to the crimes 
 would be eagerly caught hold of and followed up. So I 
 caused an anonymous letter to be written to the Deputy 
 Commissioner detailing how the burglaries were commit¬ 
 ted and where the stolen property was to be found. A 
 search was made which resulted in the arrest and convic¬ 
 tion of the jailor.f 
 
 Having done so much for the good of society I unearth¬ 
 ed my buried treasure and bent my steps towards Cal¬ 
 cutta once more. 
 
 * Fact. 
 
 f As some of the native papers contradicted the account of the 
 ease when it first appeared in the Englishman the writer has taken 
 the trouble to have it verified. The jailor was tried by Mr. 
 Driberg of the Assam Commission. 
 
208 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 I liacl scarcely been a week in the city, and had only 
 “ cracked one crib,” when I fell into the hands of the 
 Philistines again. It occurred in this wise. I had been 
 on my way to a receiver of stolen property in Burra Bazar 
 to dispose of the “ swag ” taken the previous night, when 
 my old enemy, Reid the detective, who never forgot a 
 face once seen, passed me in the street in a ticca gharry. 
 Though I had been absent from Calcutta close upon ten 
 years he recognised me, stopped the gharry , jumped out 
 and had his hand through my waist-cloth before you could 
 say “Jack Robinson.” Resistance was useless. I was 
 hurried into the “ ticca ” and drove to the Police compound. 
 As the evidence of my late crime was still on my person, 
 I freely admitted what I could not deny, how I had come 
 by it. I was tried and convicted again, this time sen¬ 
 tenced to ten years across the “ black water.” 
 
 Pending deportation I was kept in Alipore Jail. Whilo 
 in the solitude of my cell I remembered how on a former 
 occasion my fellow prisoners had by means of a four-inch 
 nail taken a brick out of the solid wall, and it struck me 
 at once that I might be able to effect my escape by the 
 same means. But how was I to get a nail ? Here was 
 the hitch. While my mind was brooding over this mat¬ 
 ter my food was brought in a tin pannican. I noticed 
 that round the rim run a piece of strong iron wire which 
 was overlapped by the tin. After some trouble I extract¬ 
 ed the wire. It was about half a yard in length, but 
 rather feeble. So in order to strengthen it, I doubled it 
 in two and twisted it rope fashion. Then having rolled 
 a piece of cloth round one end to save my hand from 
 laceration I set to work. In the course of three nights 
 I had effected an opening in a two-feet brick wall suffi¬ 
 cient to pass through. 
 
THE STORY OF A PROFESSIONAL BURGLAR. 
 
 209 * 
 
 But here arose another difficulty. I had either to bore 
 through or top the jail wall. The former operation could 
 not be effected in one night, and the latter was extremely 
 dangerous, as there was an armed sentry at every angle 
 of the enclosure. So after a short deliberation I decided 
 to chance mounting the wall instead of breaching it. This, 
 is how I went to work. The night was wet and stormy 
 and, of course, favoured the enterprise. The opening 
 from my cell led into the labour yard. Here I had no 
 difficulty in procuring a piece of rope, to the end of which 
 I attached an iron hook. Then throwing the latter over 
 the jail wall and drawing back the rope gently, the hook 
 caught under the outside coping and held fast. I now 
 began to ascend by holding on to the rope and placing my 
 feet against the wall, working my way up hand over hand 
 sailor fashion. But just as my head got above the en¬ 
 closure a flash of lightning betrayed my presence to the 
 sentry. He made for the spot at once to secure me. As 
 he came up I said to him in an under tone “ Hush. The 
 celebrated burglar, Sahib Jaun has just passed out. He 
 is hiding in the jungle there in front of you, make no noise 
 Or he will escape.” The sentry stood irresolute how to 
 act. I took advantage of his embarrassment and said, 
 “ Look here, brother, I am only a short term prisoner in 
 for a few months; if you put in a word for me to the Jail 
 Superintendent, I’ll assist you to recapture the notorious 
 Sahib Jaun, and you’ll be made a sergeant right oif the 
 reel, and and get no end of a reward.” The sentry yield¬ 
 ed, so I continued, “ You must not go down in that garb or 
 the convict will escape. I’ll change clothes with you and 
 let you down by the aid of this rope. Sahib Jaun will 
 come forward to congratulate you on your safe descent 
 the moment your feet touch terra firma for that is what 
 14 
 
210 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 we have agreed upon, and you will immediately nobble 
 him and hold fast till I come to your assistance.” The 
 sentry was delighted with the proposal. And as his mind 
 at the time was full of the thoughts of rewards and pro¬ 
 motion it never occurred to him the risk he incurred 
 by changing clothes with an absconding convict. Ac¬ 
 cordingly, when all was ready. I made fast one end 
 of the rope with which I had ascended the wall, to 
 the sentry’s body, and the other end to which the 
 hook was secured to the coping on the inside of the 
 wall. But I took good care in adjusting the length of 
 rope by which the sentry was to descend, that it would 
 not allow him to reach the ground by a few feet, so when 
 he had got to the end of his “ tether ” I left him there, 
 swinging in mid air, and bolted for my life. I knew that 
 a laro-e reward would be sent to every Police station in 
 the country, so I determined to turn my back on British 
 territory for ever. I wandered about from one native 
 State to another until I had the good fortune of falling in 
 with this honourable band of outlaws where I have lived 
 in peace and security ever since. 
 
 “Bravo! bravo!” was the exclamation of all present 
 when Sahib Jaun had made an end of his story. And the 
 band of outlaws retired for the night. 
 
221 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 ALLY MAHOMED RELATES HIS EXPERIEXCE 
 OF TRAVELLING ON THE BRAHMAPOOTRA IN 
 THE ‘GOOD OLD DAYS.’ 
 
 Sahib Jaun ring finished his amusing and entertain¬ 
 ing narrative, the chief called up Ally Mahomed for the 
 next story, who thus began. 
 
 I am a native of Chittagong and a follower of the Pro¬ 
 phet. I was originally named Ally Mahomed, but having 
 served with Europeans from the age of eight, I always 
 went by the name of the “ Boy” and answered to no other. 
 By the time I had reached my sixteenth year I could 
 speak English fairly well and understood it much better. 
 This accomplishment was a passport to well paid service, 
 ■especially with gentlemen deficient in the vernacular of 
 
212 
 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 the country, I acted in the double capacity of interpreter 
 and body servant. My first employment in this capacity 
 was with the captain of an inland steamer plying in the 
 Brahmapootra. My master was a great poet and used to 
 spend his spare moments in spinning rhymes. I was not 
 aware of this failing of master’s when I first went on 
 board, and was nearly coming to grief in consequence. 
 One day as the steamer was passing a bathing ghat, where 
 a number of village beauties were disporting themselves 
 like sea nymphs in their native element, the rhyming 
 fit came upon master. Note-book and pencil were out in 
 a trice. 
 
 But he stuck fast in the first couplet. He put down 
 his note-book on the table and commenced to pace the 
 deck as if he were walking for a wager. I really thought 
 he had taken leave of his senses, for he would occasionally 
 stop short and say to himself “ Yes, I have it now ” and 
 fly to the note-book. But just as he had prepared to com¬ 
 mit what he had been thinking about, to paper, he dis¬ 
 covered he had not exactly got hold of what he wanted. 
 “ No,” he would say to himself, “ it won’t do. The sound 
 is all right, but it is wanting in sense.” So he would 
 fling the note-book on the table and start to pace the deck 
 with more rapidity than ever. Now and again he would 
 scratch his head and mutter something to himself, like a 
 man thinking aloud. In the innocence of my heart on 
 one of these occasions I ran on deck and enquired if mas¬ 
 ter wanted anything. The words were scarcely out of 
 my mouth before he had me by the ear, and in a hissing 
 savage tone, exclaimed, “ You young rascal, if ever you 
 interrupt me again in this manner by the living God I’ll 
 pitch you overboard! Do you hear, sir ! Do you hear, 
 sir!” and he shook my head like a baby’s rattle ! “Yes ' 
 
ALLY MAHOMED. 
 
 213 
 
 «r 
 
 Yes ! Oil! master I’ll never do it again ” I blurted out in 
 terror and pain, for his fingers were tightening on my ear. 
 “Don’t then, you youug rascal! ” and lie gave me a shove 
 that sent me half way across the deck. 
 
 Ever after this adventure I had a wdiolesome dread of 
 meeting master when the rhyming fit was on him, especi¬ 
 ally if he was in search of a word. In such a conjuncture 
 I was always equally as industrious as master in search 
 ■of a place to hide in case of danger. But I had my re¬ 
 venge in the end. The steamer was anchored one evening 
 at Gauhati, my master had gone on shore, and during his 
 absence some sahibs came to the ghaut and enquired the 
 name of the commander. I told them he was called on 
 board the “Walking Gasser.” The gentlemen laughed 
 and asked me to explain the meaning of so strange an 
 appellation for the skipper of an inland steamer. So I 
 told them my master is a great poet. But the inspiration 
 only came upon him by fits and starts. When, therefore, 
 he is in the rhyming mood, he is sullen and silent and will 
 pace the deck like a mad man. It is a common saying on 
 board when master’s quick step is heard on deck “ he’s at 
 it again in search of a word.” But when the rhyming fit 
 wears off him, and he turns from poetry to prose, he has 
 such a command of words that they seem to force their 
 way without his will. He gasses like a steam engine; 
 and tells the most improbable stories. This weakness has 
 gained him the sobriquet of the “gasser.” I improved 
 upon it by calling him the “ Walking Gasser.” The 
 gentlemen walked away highly amused, and from that day 
 to this he has been known all over the great Brahmapootra 
 as the Walking Gasser. 
 
 But I soon grew tired of serving a master poetically 
 inclined. Besides he had another great failing, wdiieh an 
 
214 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 English-speaking servant can never forget or forgive.. 
 He had no love for the bottle. This in my estimation 
 was an unpardonable offence. I had always been accus¬ 
 tomed to a drop of the “ crater,”—as the Irishman would 
 say, and could not now do well without it. So I deter¬ 
 mined to look out for another situation. I had not long 
 to wait. On the very day the vessel touched at Goalundo- 
 there was an upward steamer leaving for Dibrugarh. 
 She was full up with European passengers. The captain 1 
 was short of a cuddy servant so I transferred myself to 
 him. Before I had been many days on board the captain 
 promoted me to the cabin. Here I was in clover. My new 
 master was the very antithesis of my last. There was not 
 a poetical sentiment in his whole soul. In fact, he was 
 the most prosaic and matter-of-fact individual I had ever 
 served. But he had three good qualities : he was fond of 
 the bottle, the pipe, and spinning a yarn. These accom¬ 
 plishments made him very popular with the passengers 
 who felt the time hang heavy on their hands. I am 
 speaking of the good old days before the despatch boats 
 were put on the run. The voyage then from Goalundo to- 
 Dibrugarh took six weeks to accomplish, and any kind of 
 amusement on board was a god-send to the passengers. 
 
 I will endeavour to give you a description of the captain.. 
 He was rather dumpy to begin with, had a red weather¬ 
 beaten face, a rubicund nose, white eyebrows, and a forest 
 of grey whiskers which joined his hair, and struggled all 
 round his face in uncombed luxuriance. But for the 
 genial brightness of his eyes, which fairly twinkled again 
 with good humour, that florid face and fringe of hair 
 might have suggested comparisons more suitable to the 
 inmates of the Zoo than the commander of an inland 
 steamer. Yes, it was the expression of the eyes that re- 
 
ALLY MAHOMED. 
 
 215 
 
 deemed all. And, although, Captain Hurricane'—for that 
 was his name—was not as good looking a man as his 
 
 O o 
 
 poetial brother, he was the very incarnation of good hu¬ 
 mour, geniality, and kindness. He was old in the service, 
 and had been respected and trusted by his employers. 
 He had not, however, spent all his life long in the dull 
 and somewhat monotonous inland traffic of the great 
 Indian rivers. He had been, he said, brought up a sailor, 
 and had rounded all the capes and headlands known to' 
 British seamen. He had been roasted—semi-roasted any 
 how, as he himself expressed it, at Gambia and Sierra 
 Leone; he had been frozen into the semblance of an ani¬ 
 mated icicle in the vicinity of the North Pole; he had 
 inhaled the orange-scented breezes of the Azores; he had 
 encountered all the hurricanes, typhoons and cyclones 
 which it is the fate of an old deep sea sailor to encounter; 
 and he had now come at last to chew the cud of sweet 
 and bitter fancy—and a quid of Cavendish, on board an 
 inland steamer! 
 
 He was getting on to the sere and yellow leaf and had 
 to give up deep sea sailing in consequence, and the river 
 seemed to him a kind of compromise between a life on 
 the ocean wave and ashore. It was an evil certainly, so 
 he said, but a necessary and unavoidable one. The water 
 of the great Brahmapootra was not of the bluest, especially 
 in the rains, but still it was water, and that was a comfort 
 to him, and, as he averred, a mercy for which he was 
 eminently thankful. He was an excellent hand at spin¬ 
 ning a yarn and used to keep the passengers in roars of 
 laughter from morning to night. In addition to this he 
 was a keen observer and his yarns were not only amusing 
 but instructive. 
 
 “ When I first joined the River steam Navigation Com- 
 
KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 216 
 
 pany,” he used to say to the passengers, “ there was not 
 the same facility for travelling that there is now. But,” 
 taking the pipe from his mouth and winking hard at his 
 audience, “ if we had less accommodation, less comforts, 
 and moved slower, we had more passengers, and were 
 much better paid than we are now. There was no Kaw- 
 nea and Dharlla Railway, and no despatch boats to bother 
 us, or take the wind out of our sails, and cargo out of our 
 holds, and the passengers out of our cabins. Reid and 
 Taylor between them have played the deuce with the 
 service. We had mighty men for passengers in those 
 days, civil and military. We had chief commissioners, 
 deputy commissioners, judges, and tea planters by the 
 score; with their wives and families up and down; we 
 had generals, colonels, majors, captains, subs, aye and 
 whole regiments and detachments of soldiers ; we carried 
 bond and free alike. We took up pretty girls just come 
 out from England to be married, and a year or two after¬ 
 wards we took some of them down again widows! and 
 others with blooming children and happy husbands. We 
 have taken up young gentlemen with capital that were 
 going to double it in tea, in a year or two, and we took 
 them back again beggars ! We have taken up adventurers 
 with scarcely a second shirt to their back and we have 
 brought them down again shining like a tailor’s pattern 
 card, and as rich as Rothschild! Its a strange lottery, 
 I can tell you that going up to Assam both for young 
 men and young women. They may be shipwrecked and 
 lose their all, or they may make a prosperous voyage and 
 return millionaires, or if not exactly that, at least rich 
 enough to settle down in comfort in the Old Country while 
 their blue peter is still floating at the masthead ! But,” 
 and here the captain calls out 4 Boy! brandy shrab lao.’ 
 
ALLY MAHOMED. 
 
 217 
 
 “ I think, gentlemen, it is time to splice the main brace.” 
 The skipper’s proposal was put to the vote and carried 
 nem con. And I hastened to the pantry to procure the 
 lush. On my return, the captain proceeded to splice the 
 main brace, a nautical operation, in the performance of 
 which he was ably assisted by his audience, landsmen 
 though they all were. 
 
 The steamer was making but little progress, for we had 
 entered a narrow part of the river where the current was 
 strong against us. Sometimes we appeared to be going 
 backwards instead of forwards. But the captain explained 
 to the passengers that this was owing to the sinuosity of 
 the channel, and that the steamer was in reality making 
 good headway, notwithstanding appearances to the con¬ 
 trary. “ Besides,” said he, “ it don’t much matter, does 
 it ? None of you I suppose are hurrying to be married, 
 or to take possession of large fortunes P But its the way 
 of the world. Men, at least some men, don’t know when 
 they are well off. They are impatient of restraint and 
 want to hurry through their earthly existence at a break¬ 
 neck pace. Why, look at me. I’m in no hurry, never 
 was in a hurry in all my life. I jog along at my ease and 
 take things as they come, but never grumble. So long as 
 the steamer is actually making head way I am satisfied. 
 It is the leeway that puts my pipe out. You see whether 
 I do the run in six weeks or as many months its all the 
 same to me. It makes no difference, when pay day 
 comes round at the end of the month, and that’s a blessing 
 that those railway chaps don’t enjoy with all their hurry¬ 
 ing, and bustling, and scuffling, and jostling, and con¬ 
 fusion worse confounded. My advice to you, gentlemen, 
 never travel by rail so long as there is a dug-out available 
 and a river to float it. Or if you do, and you have a wife 
 
218 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 ancl family, go first to a life insurance office and leave them 
 provided for before you undertake a journey so risky. 
 There is no saying when you may be knocked into a cocked 
 hat like the passengers in the Hathras smash ! You know 
 my favourite maxim ? I will tell you. The man who 
 plays at certainties, however small the gain, will have 
 most money in the box at the end of the game.” 
 
 Here one of the passengers interposed, “ Captain, we, 
 or at least some of us, have seen too much of the world to 
 be imposed upon by a plausible maxim. My idea of a 
 popular aphorism is this, if it be very moral and very 
 true, it may serve as an excellent copy for a charity school¬ 
 boy. If it be sparkling and whimsical, it may make a 
 capital motto for an essay. But few indeed of the many 
 wise and witty Apophthegms which have been uttered 
 from the time of the seven sages of Greece, to the present 
 day, have ever prevented the commission of a single fool¬ 
 ish action. At least that is my experience.” 
 
 This concluded the conversation for the night. The 
 captain evidently thought the subject was drifting beyond 
 his depth, or as he himself expressed it ‘ topa meela nailing 
 so he wisely proposed, as the best way of changing the 
 conversation, that his audience should join him in what 
 he was pi eased to call a ‘ nightcap ’ and retire to the land 
 of dreams. 
 
 The passengers were seated on deck the following morn¬ 
 ing enjoying their chotci hazaree when Captain Hurricane 
 made his appearance. He had done his work for the day, 
 he said, had written out yesterday’s log, had gone round 
 with his officers and seen everthing ship-shape and British 
 fashion, had kicked a darky or two just to keep his hand 
 in. Like the Irishman in the Hibernian legends, he 
 was mighty handy with his feet! He had filled the- 
 
ALLY MAHOMED. 
 
 219 
 
 calumet of peace and was now thoroughly prepared to 
 smoke it. 
 
 The steamer had rounded a bend in the river and Goal- 
 para burst into view! “ Gentlemen, what do you think of 
 that for a picture ” exclaimed the skipper, drawing the 
 attention of his audience to the scenery. All pronounced 
 it lovely ! “ Do you know,” continued the skipper, “ T 
 
 had passed this spot a hundred times without observing 
 anything particular about the place, until it was pointed 
 out to me by a great admirer of the beauties of nature.” 
 
 “ Indeed,” remarked one of the passengers, “ Let us 
 hear the story.” 
 
 “ And welcome gentlemen. It occurred in this way. I 
 had Sir William Hunter on board. He was collecting 
 information for the Indian Gazetteer , and had been seated 
 here on deck enjoying his chota hazaree as you all are do¬ 
 ing now. It was about this time of the day exactly. The 
 calm of the grey morning when the maiden blush of a 
 new born day was yet hardly discernible upon nature’s 
 face. The thin veil of haze, which night in despair, had 
 thrown across the gleam of early morn, before departing 
 to his shades, still lingered and seemed reluctant to de¬ 
 part. The blending of colour into tints which alternately 
 darkened and lightened the foliage as the great orb of 
 day rose above the horizon, magical in appearance. The 
 sombre aspect of the still and silent leaves upon their 
 branches were not lightly to be moved or swayed as be¬ 
 came their age and character, by every gentle breath 
 which sighed upon them The supple, graceful willows, 
 unconscious of their native charm and beauty drooped to¬ 
 wards the stream. The long, dank grass itself, each blade 
 rustling and rejoicing with its neighbour at the near ap¬ 
 proach of day, and assuming lines which though colourless,. 
 
220 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 were refreshing to see from their contrast to the surround¬ 
 ing verdure. The very sounds in the air; the sigh of 
 the rising breeze; the ripple of the water, and that un¬ 
 utterable stillness, which appeals so powerfully to the 
 heart and soul, all combined to add enchantment to the view. 
 
 “ It was only a muddy river, with high banks, and trees, 
 and scrub all round. That is what a plain matter-of-fact 
 man would have said, but to an admirer of nature the 
 panorama was inexpressibly beautiful! 
 
 “ Such was the scene that burst upon Sir William Hun¬ 
 ter as the steamer rounded that bend in the river. He 
 immediately jumped to his feet in an ecstacy of delight 
 and exclaimed, ‘ How grandly beautiful! ’ ‘Yes,’ replied 
 I with a doleful shake of the head, ‘ but its a terrible spot 
 for all that—the grave of the white man I might say! 
 Cholera breaks out here occasionally and sweeps all before 
 it.” ‘You don’t say so!’ exclaimed Sir William in as¬ 
 tonishment. ‘ ’Tis a fact I assure you,’ returned I, with 
 the gravest and most serious face imaginable. ‘ Why ’ 
 half the white population of the place were carried off by 
 it in one night!’ ‘I will just make a note of that’ said 
 Sir William, and he called for his journal, ‘ I suppose,’ 
 he continued ‘ I can make use of your name as my au¬ 
 thority P ’ ‘ Oh certainly ’ I made answer. 
 
 “ When Sir William Hunter had committed the above 
 facts to paper, he turned to me and enquired, ‘ And, may 
 I ask you what the white population of this place might 
 be ?’ ‘ Well said I, stroking my chin and looking serious 
 
 and thoughtful, ‘ let me see ; yes, before the outbreak of 
 the epidemic alluded to, the white population consisted of 
 a community of two, but after the terrible scourge had 
 subsided there was only a single individual left to tell the 
 tale ! Aye ! man, if you had seen the great Gazetteer at 
 
ALLY MAHOMED. 
 
 221 
 
 that moment. He turned all the colours of the rainbow 
 in a second of time, shut up his journal with a snap, and 
 walked doggedly away. We never exchanged words for 
 the remainder of the voyage.” 
 
 This story amused the passengers immensely and they 
 all laughed right heartily at the way the skipper had 
 “ sold ” the great man, as some of them expressed it. 
 
 After leaving Groalpara, the skipper appeared amongst 
 his passengers ouce more. One of them remarked, “ Cap¬ 
 tain, don’t you ever feel tired of this dull and monotonous 
 life?” “Well, yes, occasionally, a fellow does feel a bit 
 rusty, but there is always something to break the mono¬ 
 tony. To have no passengers on board is the exception 
 and not the rule. That is one blessing ; and what with 
 yarning, and reading, and pegging, and smoking, and 
 sleeping I can always manage to rub along easily enough. 
 It was pretty hard lines for me at first, but you see one 
 o-ets used to it. But if a fellow don’t care much for rac- 
 keting, or if, like me, his racketing days are over, it 
 answers pretty well. It is a solemn kind of life too. A 
 man can take himself to task and review his past history 
 without much fear of interruption. Surrounded on all 
 sides by waving jungle, seeing nothing but the sparkle of 
 the fireflies, and the twinkling and shooting of stars, in 
 the heavens ; hearing nothing but the sighing of the wind, 
 the wash of the water, the croaking of frogs, the buzz of 
 insects, and the howling of jackals, one is encouraged to 
 ask himself a few serious questions.” 
 
 Here the skipper was interrupted again by one of the 
 passengers enquiring if he didn’t come out of the cross 
 examination of his inner self with a good number of marks 
 to his credit ? 
 
 “ Well, you see,” continued the captain, “ I think, on 
 
222 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 ■the whole, I did pretty well. But then a fellow generally 
 answers questions put to himself to his own satisfaction, 
 at least that is my experience. But if a chap is well bal¬ 
 lasted and dunnaged and has lain a pretty fair course all 
 his life, why, then he can sail very close to the wind with¬ 
 out much fear of capsizing. I don’t pretend to be better 
 than my neighbours you know. I’m not much of a church 
 goer, or that kind of thing, but if I see a rock ahead I try 
 and steer clear of it. It is by affecting to be more immoral 
 and irreligious than you really are, you gain a reputation 
 of being practical and honest; as long as you are open 
 and frank in words, nobody will suspect hypocrisy in your 
 designs. That is my motto. I have been often so dis¬ 
 gusted with the hypocrisy of virtue, that I have taken to 
 practice the hypocrisy of vice ; sincerity, I find, is no less 
 a covering than lying; a frieze great coat wraps a man, 
 or woman either, as well as a Spanish cloak. If ever I 
 were to turn Methodist preacher which is not very likely, 
 my text would be, ‘Look here, my friends, you just look 
 out for rocks ahead and steer clear of them, lie a straight 
 course and keep a good look out forward and your bark 
 will reach port in safety. But if you neglect these pre¬ 
 cautions you’ll get stranded, knock holes in your timbers 
 or come to grief in some other way, which will put you 
 out of your red letter A. I.” 
 
 Here the skipper was suddenly interrupted in his ser¬ 
 mon by the steamer bumping on a sandbank. At this 
 juncture some one was cruel enough to remark “All 
 •owing* to the captain not having a good look-out forrad /” 
 But the skipper was too busily engaged to hear the re¬ 
 mark. After the position of tbe vessel had been examined 
 and soundings taken, the captain returned to inform his 
 passengers that the steamer was fast for two or three days 
 
ALLY MAHOMED. 
 
 V 
 
 OOQ 
 
 at tlie very least. “ All we can do,” he said, “ is to put 
 ■out anchors, the current, in time, Avill bring her head 
 round to deep water as the sand shifts from her bottom.” 
 This was doleful news and caused a good deal of grum¬ 
 bling. Some of the passengers were uncharitable enough 
 to insinuate that the steamer had been grounded on pur¬ 
 pose because the captain had a “ paying freight ” and the 
 longer he could spin out the voyage the more profitable it 
 would be to himself. 
 
 But the captain did all in his power, nevertheless, to 
 comfort and amuse his passengers. One gentleman had a 
 dogcart on board and wanted to dispose of it. The skip¬ 
 per made a bid for the trap on condition that it would 
 suit his horse. The bid was accepted and the dogcart was 
 sent on shore for the purpose of making a trial. Most of 
 the passengers including the owner had gone ashore in the 
 same boat with the trap. Presently the captain appeared 
 in another boat with his clothes horse! Of course the 
 skipper’s steed didn’t suit the trap, or the trap the steed, and 
 the captain in consequence claimed the right of revoking 
 the contract. But the incident caused no end of amuse¬ 
 ment, some of the young sparks among the party caught 
 a buffalo and yoked it to the dog-cart instead of the cap¬ 
 tain’s clothes horse and had a good run across country 
 winding up, as might be expected, with a delightful spill! 
 which had the desired effect, however, for everybody by 
 this time had quite forgotten the mishap to the steamer. 
 In fact, after the vessel had floated and was a veil on her 
 way up the river many of the passengers longed for 
 another grounding, if only to see Avliat amusement the 
 captain Avould contrive to cure them of grumbling. 
 
 The night before reaching Dibrugarh a circumstance 
 ■occurred which compelled me to seek safety in flight. One 
 
224 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 of the Baboo passengers liad gone done to the pantry to- 
 negotiate with the butler for the balance of the sahib's 
 dinner. In his absence I made love to his wife. I was 
 caught de facto as the cant phrase is among lawyers, in 
 the very act. The Baboo’s friends would have torn me 
 to pieces if I had not jumped overboard and, favoured by 
 the darkness, escaped for my life. To quote our learned 
 brother Bam-Jaun-Chunder-Chuckerbutty, it is to these 
 circumstances, my friends, you are indebted for the honour 
 of having a fresh water sailor amongst you to-night. I • 
 was forced to flee British territory to avoid a prosecution 
 for loving another man’s wife. I am not the first, thank 
 God, who has come to grief for the same offence. 
 
225 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE BURMAX RELATES HOW ARMS AXD 
 AMMUNITION ARE SMUGGLED OUT 
 OF BRITISH INDIA. 
 
 C\ 
 
 Sahib Jaun. having finished his interesting and amusing 
 narrative, the chief next called upon Naga Pyan alias 
 Kur rim Shaik to continue the entertainment by a recital 
 of his experience before becoming a dacoit, whereupon the 
 Burman began in this fashion:— 
 
 I am a Burman by birth and the son of a once powerful 
 and influential Mintha of Upper Burma. My father was 
 a man of a very religious turn of mind, built a pagoda, in 
 which he spent much of his time in prayer, gave alms to 
 the poor, sympathised with and succoured the oppressed, 
 was loved and worshipped by the people, and hated by 
 15 
 
226 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 the king. The latter had long been on the look out for 
 some pretence to throw my father into prison, but he was 
 slow to act for he feared his subjects. Matters were 
 brought to a crisis on the imposition of a new and oppres¬ 
 sive tax, which many were unable to pay. The king’s 
 oppressions had driven all the trading and moneyed classes 
 into British territory and those who remained were too 
 poor to meet the extortionate demands. The people in 
 their extremity flocked to my father’s pagoda for comfort 
 and counsel. They begged and implored him to free them 
 from the power of their oppressor. In a weak moment he 
 yielded to their entreaty, and unfurled the black flag, the 
 standard of revolt. He succeeded in a very short time 
 in getting together a fairly good following, built a stock¬ 
 ade in a jungle clearing, and hurled defiance at the king 
 and his army. My father’s chief want was arms and ammu¬ 
 nition. Not having these he was completely crippled, and 
 forced to act on the defensive till arms could be procured. 
 Accordingly, after consulting with the chief men who had 
 flocked to his standard, my father resolved upon sending 
 me to Calcutta in company of one or two trustworthy 
 followers, to procure the necessary munitions of modern 
 warfare, to enable him to take the field against the king’s 
 troops. As it was a penal offence to export arms and 
 ammunition out of British India, it was necessary to have 
 recourse to smuggling. Accordingly, two men were attach¬ 
 ed to my party who knew every rope of the ship in the 
 smuggling line. Everything was now ready for a start, 
 but our stockade was invested by the king’s troops, and 
 the question was, how were we to get away P A council 
 of war was held to solve the difficulty. After some deli¬ 
 beration it was at last decided that my father’s followers 
 would make a feint attack upon the king’s troops at a 
 
NAGA PYAN. 
 
 227 
 
 particular point and when the attention of the enemy was 
 engaged at the point of attack, my party would escape 
 from the stockade in the opposite direction and disappear 
 into the heart of the jungle. The stratagem was success¬ 
 ful, and we got clear away. 
 
 I made straight for the nearest steamer station in the 
 Irrawaddy, which was reached in safety, and booked for 
 Rangoon. From Rangoon after converting my stock of 
 valuables into Indian money I proceeded, without delay, 
 by one of Mackinnon, Mackenzie’s steamers to Calcutta. 
 I had with me a letter of introduction to a countryman 
 and a friend of my father’s carrying on business as a mer¬ 
 chant and trader in Canning Street, and I made for his 
 residence on landing. So after looking about me for a 
 day or two, I decided upon engaging a house for a month 
 in a quiet and unfrequented locality, and commenced 
 operations at once. The house selected was in a blind 
 lane off Chitpore Road. No place could have been better 
 suited to the purpose. It was in this house that the arms 
 and ammunition purchased in the bazar, in small quantities 
 at a time, were collected and concealed. Here I had them 
 packed up in the heart of bales of piecegoods for despatch 
 by steamer to Burma. I had to go about the business 
 very cautiously for the shopkeepers told me that the 
 officer who had the working of the Arms Act in Calcutta 
 was very strict. I suggested as a specific for the complaint 
 of over officiousness which appeared to afflict the Calcutta 
 Police, the application of a little “ palm oil.'’ But the shop¬ 
 keeper, waving his hand, said “Nahin hoga /” “Well 
 then, perhaps,” returned I “ if money won’t do, I have a 
 few sparkling rubies fresh from the king’s mines which 
 might take the sahib’s fancy.” u Equally futile ” was the 
 vendor’s laconic reply. k ' The sahib is a married man 
 
228 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 and the last trinket he presented to his mistress was the 
 wedding ring. Had he been single, a present of rubies 
 might have found a tender spot in his heart. But lie’s a 
 married man, and a Scotchman to boot, with a nature as. 
 hard as his own native “ Whins tone.” “Well, well,” 
 said I, “ I must only try and elude his vigilance the best 
 way I can.”- The shopkeepers intimated that this was the- 
 only course open to me, but offered to meet me half way, 
 and afford me every assistance. A plan was suggested, 
 which, if followed, they assured me, would be almost 
 certain of success. It was this. I was to purchase a 
 quantity of ammunition and a gun from each shop daily, 
 giving a different name and address on each occasion, 
 until the quantity required was completed. These small 
 purchases, they said, would not excite suspicion when the 
 sahib came to examine their books. This procedure was 
 strictly followed. And in order to prevent jealousy 
 amongst the vendors and keep them from betraying one- 
 another, all had an equal share of my custom. 
 
 In this way I soon got together the full quantity re¬ 
 quired, both of arms and ammunition, and set about getting 
 it ready for shipment. Before despatching my first con¬ 
 signment to the steamer, I resolved to have a good look at 
 the man I most dreaded in the business, the Detective 
 Superintendent, who I learned had charge of the working 
 of the Arms Act. I mentioned this to one of the shop¬ 
 keepers, and he told me the thing could be easily managed. 
 “ I will send a man with you,” he said, “ who will take 
 you to the Police compound. You cau pretend to have 
 come to lay a charge against some person unknown, for 
 picking your pocket in the bazar.” This, I thought, was 
 an excellent device, and I agreed to it at once. When I 
 reached the Police Office and told the sahib the nature of 
 
NAGA PYAN. 
 
 229 
 
 my business, he immediately put me through a severe 
 cross-examination and made me contradict myself half a 
 dozen of times in as many minutes. Having succeeded in 
 making me feel extremely nervous and uncomfortable, I 
 was coolly told the Detective branch of the police did not 
 take up petty cases of pocket-picking and the like. Then, 
 turning to my companion, the sahib enquired if he knew 
 where Bow Bazar tliana was situated. The man answered 
 in the affirmative, “Very good,” continued the officer, 
 “take the complainant to the Superintendent, he resides 
 next door to the thana, and he’ll enquire into the case.” 
 I was about to make my salaam and retire when the sahib , 
 with a knowing wink, apparently understood by a few 
 European Policemen standing by, and a roguish twinkle 
 ■of an eye like that of an eagle, remarked, “ Don’t think 
 because the name of the officer to whom I am sending you 
 is associated with all that is gentle and timid in nature, 
 (I allude, of course, to the young of a certain herbivorous 
 animal that changes its name to mutton after its decease) 
 that he has any sympathy with, or compassion for, the 
 criminal classes ! He’s death upon pick-pockets! ” I now 
 began to realise the fact that the detective had seen 
 through my device, for all the Policemen present burst 
 ■into a loud roar of laughter. I consequently salaamed 
 with the best possible grace, and slunk awap, dejected and 
 crest-fallen. I could have wished myself anywhere else, 
 but where I was. After leaving the Police compound and 
 having seen all I wanted to see, and more than 1 had bar¬ 
 gained for, I did not proceed to Bow Bazar thana to inter¬ 
 view the gentleman named after the young of a certain 
 herbivorous animal that changes its name to mutton after 
 its decease, or assistant either, a gentleman who outdoes 
 his master in this respect, for he has taken his cognomen 
 
230 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 from a certain omnivorons animal that changes its mane- 
 twice after its decease, first to pork, and at a later period, 
 to bacon, but turned down Chitpore Road to my lodg¬ 
 ings. 
 
 The Detective Officer, whose presence I had just left, as 
 
 I expected, rightly concluded, from my demeanour and 
 
 hesitating manner in replying to questions, that I had 
 
 • - 
 
 some other object in view than that of laying a criminal 
 complaint against an unknown pick-pocket; had me fol¬ 
 lowed by one of his myrmidons; and when he heard I had 
 turned down Chitpore Road instead of going to Bow 
 Bazar thana, as directed, conjectures assumed the shape 
 of certainty, and arrangements were made to have my 
 movements secretly watched for a few days. Consequently 
 a human sleuth hound was set on my track. Of course, I 
 suspected nothing, and the day after my adventure at the 
 Police Office, I set about despatching my first consingment 
 of arms and ammunition per steamer to Bunn ah. But 
 instead of me watching the Police, the Police were watch¬ 
 ing me ! And they did watch me to some purpose. For 
 about two hours after I had sent my first two packages on 
 board booked as piecegoods, a messenger came running to 
 me and said in the name of holy Buddha make yourself 
 scarce ! The two packages of arms and ammunition have- 
 been seized by the police and the men who booked them, 
 Serjaway and Wajaway, the professional smugglers, on 
 ■whose sagacity we relied, are in custody ! ” I was horrified. 
 “My poor father’s prospects blasted!” I ejaculated in 
 broken accents, for I could scarcely articulate. I could have 
 sat down and cried, but there was no time for this outward 
 show of inward grief. So, hastily snatching up the bag 
 that contained my money and valuables I bolted from the 
 house, which still contained evidence of the guilty trans- 
 
NAGA PYAN. 
 
 231 
 
 action in wliicli I was engaged. I went straight to my 
 friend in Canning Street and told him what had occurred. 
 He was as much surprised as I had been on hearing of 
 the disaster. I could see by the expression of his face, 
 that he believed I had got myself involved in a dangerous 
 business. And on being pressed he openly said as much. 
 “Do you think then” I enquired, “that the Police will 
 force the two men, now in custody to betray me P ” “ Ho, 
 
 no,” was the prompt reply “ that is not exactly what I 
 apprehend. The Police here use strategy and not torture, 
 to discover what they want to know.’ “ If that’s all,” 
 said I, “ two can play at that game.” I thought that, 
 probably, the prisoners might be put on the rack, as we 
 do in Burmali, and tortured till they confessed and gave 
 up their accomplices. “ If torture is not resorted to.” I 
 continued, “ I am safe; the men, I know, will not, of their 
 own accord, disclose their secret and mine.” 
 
 In this I was correct. The Police immediately after 
 the seizure of the arms and ammunition made for the 
 house which I had occupied off Cliitpore Hoad, but failing 
 to find me, never came near my friend’s house in Canning 
 Street. This convinced me that the two men in custody 
 were true to their salt. With my friend’s consent I re¬ 
 mained in hiding at his place to watch the result of the 
 case. I employed the best counsel I could procure in Cal¬ 
 cutta to defend the prisoners. The case was first heard 
 by the Chief Presidency Magistrate, who, after several 
 postponements to enable the Police to make enquiries 
 about the defendants in Burmah, ultimately committed 
 the prisoners for trial at the ensuing Sessions of the 
 High Court. All effort was made to get the accused 
 released on bail pending the opening of the Criminal 
 Sessions, but the Magistrate, in view of the serious charge 
 
232 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 against them, would not hear of it. The Judges were 
 moved with the same object, but with no better result. 
 
 The shopkeepers who sold the arms and ammunition 
 were in a terrible funk when they heard of the seizure 
 and the arrest of the prisoners. They expected every 
 moment that their turn would come next. When the 
 arms and ammunition were traced to their shops they 
 were forced to admit what they could not well deny, the 
 sales, but urged in defence that they had been themselves 
 deceived by the purchaser’ giving wrongs names and ad¬ 
 dresses. This evidence, of course, told against the pri¬ 
 soners with damning effect. It was, therefore, an under¬ 
 stood thing that no steps would be taken against the 
 vendors till after the case against the purchasers was 
 decided, as the evidence of the former was necessary to 
 insure a conviction of the latter. The shopkeepers knew 
 this. They, therefore, combined and tried to come the 
 mamlatdars’ dodge over the authorities. They would, 
 they said, come forward as witnesses and insure the con¬ 
 viction of the accused if they were given a guarantee that 
 their statements would not be used in evidence against 
 themselves. But they had stronger men to deal with in 
 Bengal than the corrupt mamlatdars had in Bombay, and 
 their proposal was rejected with the contempt it deserved. 
 The Government officials in Calcutta had read Macaulay, 
 and the lesson taught by the great essayist had not been 
 thrown away upon them. The shopkeepers baffled in 
 their design resorted to other tactics. They formed a 
 conspiracy to get the prime mover in the prosecution, the 
 Detective Superintendent out of the way, before the open¬ 
 ing of the Criminal Sessions. This is what was done. A 
 dealer in arms and ammunition carrying on business in 
 Chandney Bazar applied for the renewal of his license, 
 
NAGA PYAN. 
 
 233 
 
 which had just expired, or was about to expire. This 
 man’s gunpowder godown was a small detached building 
 some distance away from his business premises. Its situa¬ 
 tion and construction was admirably suited to the carrying 
 out of the diabolical plot the vendors had in view. Before 
 granting a new license the officer responsible for the work¬ 
 ing of the Arms Act had to inspect this gunpowder godown 
 and certify that it was a safe and fit place for the storage 
 ■of explosives. The shopkeepers knew the practice well. 
 Arrangements were made with the officer to inspect the 
 premises on a given day and at a stated hour. Accord¬ 
 ingly, at the time agreed upon, the Superintendent rode 
 up to the spot where the store godown was situated. The 
 shopkeeper was waiting to receive him. Before dismount¬ 
 ing the officer looked about for his syce, but not seeing 
 him anywhere near, the shopkeeper volunteered to hold 
 the horse. The offer was accepted and the Superinten¬ 
 dent dismounted and proceeded to inspect the godown. It 
 was, as I have already stated, a small detached demi- 
 upper-roomed building. The upper portion, where the 
 gunpowder was usually stored, was approached by stone 
 steps from the outside. The inspection did not occupy 
 more than two minutes. When the officer returned to the 
 street, he observed that the door leading to the lower 
 apartments was padlocked. He therefore enquired what 
 was kept on the ground floor. The shopkeeper said the 
 ground flat was empty. “ I would like to see the place,” 
 said the officer, “ before granting you a certificate.” The 
 shopkeeper stammered out an evasive reply, to the effect 
 that he had lost the key of the padlock. This put the 
 ■officer on his “ metal ” and aroused his suspicions. “ Well,” 
 said he, “ if the lower apartments are empty a padlock 
 without a key is not of much value,” and lifting up a 
 
234 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 
 liammer from a stall close by lie proceeded to knock off 
 the lock. The moment the shopkeeper saw his design he 
 let go the horse and bolted for his life. When the officer' 
 entered the lower apartments, to the building he- had 
 come to inspect, a strange sight presented itself to> his 
 astonished gaze! An open barrel of blasting powder 
 stood in the centre of the room connected by a train from 
 the door which had just been forced open. On making a 
 closer inspection it was found that the train passed under- 
 the door which did not close completely at the bottom 
 when shut. And on the ground near the commencement 
 of the train were found half a dozen matches with the 
 top broken off. Evidently an attempt had been made to' 
 fire the train while the Superintendent was engaged in* 
 specting the rooms on the upper floor. But in the hurry 
 and flurry of the moment, the matches could not be got to' 
 ignite.And so the plot failed and the officer was saved 
 from falling a victim to the infernal device of a seeond 
 Guy Eaux! 
 
 In the enquiry which followed it came to light, that had 
 the diabolical plot succeeded an ingenious story was ready 
 to account for the explosion. Namely: that the Police 
 Officer had entered the room with a lighted cigar in his 
 mouth, and must have dropped some of the burning ashes 
 into a barrel of gunpowder left open for his inspection. I 
 never learned how the case terminated, for on the day 
 following the attempt on the officer’s life, I received news 
 from Burmah, that my father had been treacherously 
 murdered, and all his followers either killed or made pri¬ 
 soners. I consequently huried back to Burmah with as 
 little delay as possible to ascertain full details of the sad 
 misfortune. This is how it happened. The king, finding 
 it impossible to drive my father from his stronghold or to 
 
NAGA PYAN. 
 
 235 
 
 enter it by force, hired a notorious dacoit leader named 
 Naga Kwali, a man who since the annexation of Upper 
 Burmah, has given the British troops a lot of trouble, to 
 proceed to the invested stockade, enter it privately as a 
 friend, and propose to assist its defenders with men and 
 arms. My father fell into the trap thus skilfully set for 
 him. Naga Kwah had first written, making offers of 
 assistance under pretence that he had an old grudge 
 against the king, and only wanted an opportunity to pay 
 it off. This threw my father off his guard. An appoint¬ 
 ment was accordingly made to discuss the matter in per¬ 
 son, and the great dacoit leader was secretly introduced 
 into the stockade during a storm of wind and rain. The 
 result of this interview was that the followers of the rob¬ 
 ber chief were smuggled into my father’s stronghold in 
 small batches at a time to the number of four or five 
 hundred fighting men, all armed to the teeth. No one 
 suspected treachery. It was my father’s habit to sleep 
 apart from his men. This gave the traitor an opportunity 
 of assassinating him secretly, and without creating any 
 disturbance in camp. So one night when everything was 
 still, the camp-fires smouldering to ashes, the scattered 
 forms lying about on the grass buried in sleep, Naga 
 Kwah seizing his dah, crept stealthily to where my father 
 lay slumbering unconscious of the evil. He bent down 
 over the sleej)er, for he would not deprive him of life 
 while prostrate, and whispered in his ear “Minla G-yee!” 
 My father started up, and the moment he moved his head 
 was taken off at a single pass of the knife and carried to 
 the king. This was the signal for a general massacre ! 
 The dacoits had been waiting for the word from their 
 leader, and the moment it was given, they jumped up, 
 dah in hand, and butchered the unconscious sleepers. The 
 
236 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 king’s troops were at the same time let into the stock¬ 
 ade to assist in the general slaughter. A few of the 
 leaders only were spared, in order that they might be 
 put to death by slow torture at the king’s palace for the 
 amusement of his wives and household. When all was 
 over, a strict search was made for me; for I was hated and 
 feared almost as much as my father had been. A large 
 reward was offered for my apprehension and emissaries 
 were sent out all over British Burmah to hunt me down 
 and assassinate me whenever and wherever found. 
 
 Thus finding my life unsafe in my own country, and 
 my liberty uncertain even in British India, like my friend 
 Sahib Jaun’s, when he went to prison for seven years, I 
 took shelter in a native State there to await the coming of 
 fine weather. But a life of inaction was hateful to me, 
 so I changed my name and religion and joined this cele¬ 
 brated band of dacoits. 
 
 Before bringing my story to an end, I may as well tell 
 you that the two prisoners in the Arms Smuggling Case 
 were tried at the Calcutta High Court before Mr. Justice 
 Phear, charged with being in possession of arms and 
 ammunition and attempting to export the same in con¬ 
 travention of Act XXXI of 1860. The Advocate-General, 
 the Honourable G. C. Paul, prosecuted on behalf of Her 
 Majesty’s Indian Government. The prisoners were ably 
 defended by two of the leading barristers of the Calcutta 
 High Court. After a protracted trial the accused were 
 acquitted, in the teeth of the most convincing evidence of 
 their guilt. The defence set up was that, the defendants 
 were the unconscious tools of a man not in custody. That, 
 of course, was your humble servant! 
 
 A Calcutta journal, the Englishman a few days after the 
 trial, in an able and well written article strongly condemned 
 the verdict of the jury. The article, which is too long quote, 
 
NAGA PYAN. 
 
 237 
 
 opened as follows :—“ Tlie verdict of the jury in the case 
 of Queen v. Sujaway Mugh and Wajaway Mugh, tried 
 at the last Criminal Sessions of the High Court before 
 Mr. Justice Phear, for being in possession of, and attempt¬ 
 ing to export out of British India arms and ammunition 
 in contravention of Act XXXI of 1860, shows that it is 
 high time that the petty jury list should be revised, and 
 an endeavour made to select as much as possible intelligent 
 and educated men to decide important cases of this kind 
 in future. If ever there was a case which required care 
 and attention on the part of the jury, the above was pre¬ 
 eminently one. *******. The journal was right; a 
 special jury should have been empanelled to try this case* 
 The dealer who attempted, but failed, to put one of the 
 principal witnesses, the officer iu charge of the case, out 
 of the way, was convicted, but only on a minor charge, 
 the attempt to fire the mine could not be brought home to 
 him, as he was holding the police officer’s horse at the 
 time, and the name of his accomplice did not transpire. 
 His business, however, was ruined, for in addition to a 
 heavy fine his license was cancelled and his stock-in-trade 
 confiscated. 
 
-238 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE STORY OE A POLICE SPY! 
 
 W hen the Bnrman liad made an end of his entertaining 
 narrative, for which he was highly applauded, the chief 
 called upon Haran Das for the next story; who instantly 
 began in this manner:— 
 
 I am known to my friends under the cognomen of Haran 
 Das, but like our distinguished brother Sahib Jaun, (may 
 his shadow never grow less,) I had passed under numerous 
 aliases in my time. I had also like our worthy brother 
 aforesaid, commenced a career of crime at a very early 
 age, and graduated in the Strand Road academy for young 
 thieves. But I was a restless “ cuss ” and could never 
 settled down to any particular branch of our profession. 
 From bleeding grain bags at the shipping and landing 
 
STORY OP A POLICE SPY. 
 
 239 
 
 ghauts I took to pocket-picking ; and from pocket-picking 
 to shop-lifting; and from shop-lifting to card-sharping; 
 and from card-sharping to the confidence trick; and from 
 the confidence trick to passing stolen notes; and from 
 passing stolen notes to pimping; and from pimping to 
 opium-smuggling ; and from opium-smuggling to decoying 
 soldiers and sailors into empty houses, making them drunk, 
 and then robbing them; from decoying soldiers and sailors 
 to their ruin, to corrupting the servants of Europeans for 
 the purpose of ascertaining where their masters and mis¬ 
 tresses kept their valuables, in what part of the house and 
 at what hour they retired to rest, and other particulars 
 necessary to a successful night attack on the premises. 
 
 But this constant change of front was not considered in 
 strict accordance with the code of honour observed amongst 
 the different fraternities throughout the city, which was 
 that a man should adopt one branch of the criminal pro¬ 
 fession and stick to it. I had been poaching on every man’s 
 preserve, had a finger in everybody’s pie, and was con¬ 
 sequently outcasted. None of the regular profession 
 would admit me into their set. They called me a pariah. 
 The receivers of stolen property were warned against do¬ 
 ing business with me. This was the severest blow of all. 
 It deprived me of a market for the fruits of my honest 
 industry. 
 
 But I had my revenge. I turned police informer 
 (goinda) and was instrumental in bringing most of my 
 persecutors to grief. My first essay in the art of “ aiding 
 the police in the detection of crime ” took place on the 
 river Hooghly, in the port of Calcutta. A darogah, who 
 wanted to become an inspector, employed me to get up a 
 sensational case to bring him to notice. “ I will give 
 you,” said he, “ besides the reward, one hundred rupees 
 
240 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 from my own private purse on my promotion, if yon are 
 successful.” I promised to do my level best, and left the 
 presence of the darogah to mature my plans. This is 
 what I did. I went straight to the manjee of a cargo, 
 boat employed in conveying grain and seeds from the 
 merchants’ godowns along the strand bank, to the ship¬ 
 ping. On learning that he had linseed on board I offered 
 to purchase forty maunds at a reasonable rate. My 
 offer was accepted. It was then arranged between us 
 that the cargo boat should moor for the night at a quiet 
 and unfrequented ghaut, and that I would come off in a 
 dinghee an hour or so before daybreak and bear off the 
 booty. The cargo boat had on board three hundred bags 
 of linseed, each bag containing two maunds. The usual 
 practice in thefts of this kind is to empty the bags into- 
 the dingliee and refill them by extracting a small quantity 
 from each of the remaining bags on board the cargo boat. 
 The manjee in this way has his full complement of bags 
 to deliver on board ship, and the receivers run no risk in 
 conveying away the stolen property, as it is not in bags, 
 it cannot be identified. But in my case I had no intention 
 of conveying away the booty. When my plans were 
 completed I gave notice to the darogali where and when 
 the transaction would take place. He made his arrange¬ 
 ments accordingly. At a given signal, just as the twenty 
 bags of linseed had been discharged into my dinghee , the 
 police boat, with a dozen of constables on board, pulled 
 alongside. The crew of the cargo boat and the crew of 
 the dinghee , fourteen all told, were made prisoners. I, of 
 course, was allowed to escape. But the former having 
 been caught red-handed, freely admitted, what they could 
 not deny, the receipt and delivery of the twenty bage of 
 linseed. There was the seed in the dinghee, the empty 
 
THE STORY OP A POLICE SPY. 
 
 241 
 
 bags on the deck of the cargo boat and a deficiency in the 
 hold corresponding to the number of empty bags. The 
 case was complete without any further trouble or enquiry 
 on the part of the police. The following day the prisoners 
 were all placed before the magistrate, convicted on the 
 clearest evidence, and sentenced to various terms of im¬ 
 prisonment. The darogah received a handsome reward 
 from the shippers, one of the largest exporting firms in 
 Calcutta, who suffer to the tune of a lakh and a half of 
 rupees annually, by thefts of this kind, for his smartness 
 and detective ability. Of course part of the reward had 
 to be given to the constables, but the darogali's hissa , the 
 lion’s share, fell to my lot. In addition to this the 
 darogah shortly afterwards got his promotion through my 
 exertions, and paid me the sum agreed upon. Having 
 thus obtained a firm footing in the police I next set about 
 carrying out the object nearest my heart—setting a trap 
 for my persecutors. This is how I hoist them on their 
 own petard. The little transaction between the darogah 
 and I had placed me in the possession of funds. I there¬ 
 fore determined to work my way into caste again by 
 giving my old associates a “ big blow out ” according to 
 the custom of the country, and make a declaration that I 
 would conform to the rules of the particular branch of 
 the profession to which I had avowed allegiance for the 
 future. Accordingly I got together all the noted burglars 
 in Calcutta, feasted them to their hearts’ content and 
 made the necessary vow of conformity. There was great 
 rejoicing at the supposed return of the prodigal. My next 
 move was to plan a big enterprise and invite all my 
 associates to join in it and then betray them to the police. 
 The project was no less than a bank robbery. An en¬ 
 trance to the treasure vault was effected from the street 
 16 
 
242 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 drain, by boring nnder the foundation of the building. 
 The cover was so good that we were able to carry on the 
 work during the day without being observed. When the 
 passage was all but complete a night was fixed upon to 
 enter the vault and carry off the treasure. I made my 
 arrangements accordingly. An inspector with half a 
 dozen of constables were secreted in the strong room, as 
 it was called, because the door was made of iron and was 
 secured with enormous locks and bolts. But burglars 
 who know their business never attempt to enter buildings 
 by the ordinary doorways. Most people are in the habit 
 of entirely overlooking this fact. A sergeant with another 
 half dozen of constables were posted in a house on the 
 opposite side of the street, and the two parties at a given 
 signal were to act in concert in capturing the thieves. 
 The party on the outside would prevent escapes, while 
 the party in the strong room would secure the burglars 
 as they emerged from the hole in the floor. The plan 
 was successful. Every man jack was captured. 
 
 The case brought me prominently to notice. Hitherto 
 I had only ventured to work with the native officers of 
 the police. But now the European inspectors and super¬ 
 intendents employed me. I had to be more careful, 
 though, in working up my cases, or I might come to grief 
 myself. I knew the European police would not support 
 me in any illegal act, so I was forced to be hhabardaree. 
 
 My next employment, after the bank business, was in 
 a gambling case. A Mahomedan and a Chinaman had 
 for a number of years, in co-partnership, run a gamb¬ 
 ling hell with extraordinary success. Every art and 
 ingenuity known to the police were tried in vain to sup¬ 
 press the nuisance. The house was frequently surprised 
 by a large body of police. But on effecting an entry no 
 
THE STORY OP A POLICE SPY. 
 
 243 
 
 evidence of gaming could ever be discovered, though the 
 place was searched from floor to ceiling, and the persons 
 of everyone found on the premises carefully examined. 
 All that the police had ever witnessed on bursting into 
 the room where the gambling was carried on, was a circle 
 of men of different nationalities seated on a piece of carpet 
 spread out on the floor devoutly listening to an old and 
 venerable looking Mahomedan, with a long white beard, 
 reading and expounding the Alcoran! The police at last 
 baffled in their efforts to bring the keepers of the supposed 
 gambling hell to justice, gave up the matter in despair. 
 So the place continued to flourish unmolested until a 
 servant of Sir Ashley Eden’s got fleeced one evening to 
 the tune of a couple of hundred rupees belonging to his 
 master. The victim, it appeared, had been sent to Jaun 
 Bazar Street to pay for straw, hay, and gram supplied to 
 his master’s horse during the month. He was met On the 
 road by a dalall in the pay of the gaming house, and in¬ 
 duced by this man to try his luck at cards. The unfortu¬ 
 nate servant in a weak moment yielded, with the usual 
 result. He left the hell without a single pice of the 
 money he had taken there. When the discovery had 
 been made that the tradespeople’s bills had not been paid 
 the servant was called upon for an explanation. He 
 candidly confessed how the money went. His master 
 took him straight to Sir Stuart Hogg, the then Commis¬ 
 sioner of Police, for the purpose of having his statement 
 verified. It turned out to be only too true. It was then 
 that peremptory orders were given that the gambling hell 
 must be suppressed cost what it would. I was accordingly 
 engaged by the superintendent in whose district the house 
 was situated to find out how the game was played and 
 what became of the instruments of gaming when the 
 
244 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 house was surprised by the police. In accordance with 
 these instructions I proceeded to the gambling hell and 
 was introduced by one of the dallals. The following day 
 I reported to the superintendent what I had seen and the 
 class of people that frequented the place. I had lost 
 some money which was made good to me, and directed 
 to return the next night when a feint attempt would be 
 made to surprise the hell. In this conjuncture I was 
 warned to keep my eyes about me and watch how the 
 instruments of gaming disappeared. I carried out these 
 instructions to the letter. Close upon midnight the 
 scouts in the lanes leading to the place passed the word— 
 Ha deklio ! which was the signal that the police were 
 coming. This watchword, I may tell you, is changed 
 every night. Immediately the alarm was given there was 
 a scramble for the money on the carpet. Every man 
 picked up his own stake, while the owner of the house 
 proceeded to conceal the gambling instruments in the 
 back of his Alcoran. The book was bound with the cover 
 of an old musical album and the space from which the 
 musical instrument had been removed was used to conceal 
 the evidence of gaming. The book was then placed on a 
 reading stand in front of the moulvie, as he was called, 
 and the whole scene was changed as if by magic ! A nest 
 of notorious gamblers was in an instant converted into a 
 religious assembly, and the hell into a house of prayer! 
 We were now ready to receive the police. But the sur¬ 
 prise was only a feint, and the police turned off in another 
 direction. So play was resumed. 
 
 The following day I reported progress to the superin¬ 
 tendent ; he was a cute “ cuss,” that same superintendent. 
 When I had related all I had seen in the gambling hell, 
 lie placed his two elbows on the desk and resting his chin 
 
THE STORY OF A POLICE SPY. 
 
 245 
 
 on his open palms thought for a moment. Then suddenly- 
 starting np he began to write rapidly ; and when he had 
 finished he said to me, “ That will do, Haran, yon may 
 now go. I have heard all I want to know.” “ Won’t 
 yon require me again, sir, on the night yon propose to 
 storm the garrison ? ” I enquired, not wishing to be left 
 out of the sport, “ my evidence may be necessary to 
 prove that gambling was going on before the arrival of 
 the police.” “ No,” returned the superintendent, “ your 
 evidence will not be required. I intend to surprise the 
 party in the very act.” “ That will be very difficult, 
 sir,” I ventured to suggest, “ the scouts in the pay of 
 the hell are both numerous and vigilant; and not only 
 that, they are as true as steel to their employers.” “ I 
 am prepared for all that ” was the curt reply of the 
 superintendent. 
 
 So I salaamed and took my leave. I was, nevertheless, 
 curious enough to know how the superintendent would 
 overcome the obstacles in the way of successful surprise 
 of the gambling hell without having some person amongst 
 the gamblers on whom reliance could be placed. I felt 
 certain he could never pass the scouts in the neighbour¬ 
 hood unrecognised, and the house would be alarmed long 
 before he could approach it. I therefore secretly, out of 
 pure curiosity, set myself to watch the proceedings. This 
 is what took place. About midnight I saw a funeral 
 procession passing along Free School Street. Four men 
 were carrying what appeared to me to be a corpse on a 
 native charpoy. The body was covered with a white sheet. 
 Eight men followed the corpse crying Hurry Bole! 
 Hurry Bole ! Hurry Bole! (the name of a Hindoo idol). 
 The procession turned up Jaun Bazar Street in the direc¬ 
 tion of the gambling hell. The moment the house was 
 
246 
 
 KNAVEEY UNMASKED. 
 
 reached, down went the charpoy from the men’s shoulders 
 and up jumped the corpse, which was no other than the 
 superintendent himself with a dozen of constables in 
 undress! The door of the gambling hell was forced 
 before you could say “ Jack Robinson ” and the whole 
 nest of gamblers secured in the very act. They were so 
 paralyzed with terror at the suddenness of the surprise 
 that they could not make the slightest effort to conceal, 
 or attempt to conceal the evidence of their crime. Even 
 the Chinaman who was keeping watch on the roof of the 
 building, when he saw the corpse start up from the 
 charjpoy , went off in a faint before he could sound the 
 alarm. 
 
 Thus was one of the most successful gambling hells 
 that had ever been known in Calcutta suppressed. The 
 moulvie’s Alcoran, which was produced in court, to show 
 how the police were baffled on former occasions, caused 
 no end of amusement. 
 
 It would make my story too long to relate all the ad¬ 
 ventures in which I had been engaged in the capacity of 
 police informer. I will therefore conclude with an account 
 of the case that brought me to grief. 
 
 A number of burglaries had been committed in the 
 European part of the city. The police were at fault in 
 tracing the delinquents. I was in consequence employed 
 to try and get a clue to the perpetrators. While thus 
 engaged, I received certain information from a discharged 
 servant who had a grievance against his master. He put 
 me on the track of some valuable property, easy of access, 
 on the premises of his late employer. The temptation 
 was too strong for me to resist. I entered the house one 
 night after the family had retired to rest and bore off the 
 booty. But a terrible Nemesis overtook me. The theft took 
 
THE STORY OF A POLICE SPY. 
 
 247 
 
 place in the jurisdiction of the superintendent who sur¬ 
 prised the gambling hell in Jaun Bazar Street. When 
 the case was reported, he came to the premises to make 
 enquiries. A bloody foot-print was observed on each 
 alternate step of the stairs leading to and from the room 
 from which the property was stolen. The foot-print was 
 incomplete, it was short of the impression of one toe, the 
 one next the great toe of the right foot. “ That is the 
 foot-print ” said the superintendent as soon as he saw it, 
 <c of that infernal informer.” I had unfortunately cut my 
 foot in getting over the compound wall, which was pro¬ 
 tected with glass, and this betrayed me. I was arrested 
 and convicted of the theft, but succeeded in escaping from 
 jail shortly afterwards. I had, of course, to flee from 
 British territory to avoid recapture. And, after much 
 wandering about, at last joined this honourable company 
 of freebooters. 
 
248 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE STORY OF AN OPIUM SMUGGLER. 
 
 When Haran Dass, the police spy, had concluded his 
 story, which was received with especial commendation, 
 the chief commanded Shaik Salim, as next in order, to 
 take his turn, and entertain the company with a taste of 
 his quality as a professional smuggler. Shaik Salim, 
 accordingly, began after this fashion. 
 
 I am a Mussulman by religion and an opium smuggler 
 by profession. I commenced life as a cabin boy on board 
 of one the steamers employed in the opium trade, on the 
 run between Calcutta and China. As I was considered a 
 smart, intelligent lad I was soon promoted to chief butler. 
 It was in this capacity I carried on the trade of opium, 
 smuggling. I was drawn into the business in this way. 
 
THE STORY OF AN OPIUM SMUGGLER. 249 
 
 We had a Chinese cook on board, and during the time 
 the steamer was laid up in Calcutta discharging and load¬ 
 ing, he used to go on shore daily. On each occasion he 
 took with him two empty hot water plates tied up in a 
 jharun. These he always brought back in the same way 
 but containing a meal of cooked curry and rice. On 
 opium steamers the Custom House officers are very strict, 
 especially with Chinamen, and the cook had in consequence 
 to open his bundle and show what it contained every time 
 he came on board. But the cook’s bundle, to all appear¬ 
 ance, never contained anything but the two plates, one 
 inverted over the other, with curry and rice between them 
 This always went on for ten or fifteen days, during the 
 period the steamer remained in port. No one ever sus¬ 
 pected that anything wrong was going on, till one day, in 
 the Bay of Bengal, the sea was running high and two of 
 the hot-water plates in the pantry got broken. I only 
 kept out six for the use of the captain and officers, and 
 the remaining eighteen of the set were packed away in a 
 box in the custody of the cook. Befere dinner hour I had 
 to go to this box for two spare plates to replace the broken 
 ones. Guess my surprise to find that the hollow space of 
 each was filled with opium. The secret was out; so the 
 oook thought the best thing to do under the circumstances 
 was to take me into partnership and share the profits be¬ 
 tween us. This I readily agreed to, and that is how I 
 took to opium smuggling. 
 
 The opium was carried ashore at the other end of the 
 pond, as it had been brought on board in Calcutta, in the 
 hot-water plates. It was a mighty grand dodge, those 
 hot-water plates! The cook used to carry them right 
 under the nose of the preventive officers, and the trick 
 was never found out! But now that there were two to 
 
250 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 share the profits instead of one it was necessary to extend 
 the business. So we consulted over the matter, the cook 
 and I, and this is the conclusion we arrived at. There 
 was a third party in the secret, a shoemaker in Bentinck 
 Street on the Calcutta side, a very ingenious cove, who 
 used to buy up contraband opium smuggled into the 
 City from Native States. It was from this man the 
 cook got his supplies. And this selfsame shoemaker was 
 also the author of the hot-water plate dodge. So when 
 the cook and I had decided upon increasing our smuggling 
 speculation, the shoemaker was asked to invent some new 
 scheme more suitable to business on an extended scale 
 than the hot-water plates, which was a slow process. But 
 our ingenious coadjutor had already anticipated us. He 
 had thought out a plan, he said, which he believed would 
 answer the purpose to a nicety. It was nothing more or 
 less than a plain kerosine oil tin. But a tube of the same 
 material two inches in diameter, extending from the aper¬ 
 ture in the top to the bottom, had been ingeniously solder¬ 
 ed in. This tube it was proposed to fill with ghee while 
 all the surrounding space would contain opium. “ You 
 see,” said the ingenious inventor, “ when the Custom House 
 officer screws off the top, which is directly over the tube 
 and puts in his probe, he will find nothing but ghee , and 
 as the probe will go straight to the bottom of the tin, he 
 will never suspect that there is anything wrong. The 
 invention excited our highest admiration. For while it 
 was fifty times as efficacious, it was equally as secure 
 against detection, as the hot-water plate dodge. 
 
 With this new invention, I would, in a very short space 
 of time, have been able to retire a rich man. But my 
 criminal associates, jealous of an outsider sharing the fruits 
 of their own ingenuity, laid a trap to murder me when the 
 vessel got to China. A woman was set on to decoy me to. 
 
THE STOEY OP AN OPIUM SMUGGLEE. 
 
 251 
 
 a low disreputable quarter in Hong-Kong, where two vil¬ 
 lains were in hiding to assassinate me. But on the road 
 to the place my “decoy duck” was attacked by a man 
 armed with a murderous weapon, who would in all pro¬ 
 bability have taken her life had I not promptly jumped to 
 her rescue, knocked the brute down and disarmed him. 
 She had, it appears, been in the keeping of the monster, 
 or rather she kept him until she was compelled, through 
 ill-treatment, to run away from his protection. He was 
 an habitual opium smoker and professional gambler, and 
 this was the first time he had set eyes upon her since she 
 left him. So the unfortunate woman, out of gratitude for 
 what I had done for her, told me the diabolical plot that 
 had been contrived to assassinate me! I was simply 
 horrified at the revelation! But I kept my own council, 
 and a sharp eye on my enemies. I knew it would not be safe 
 for me to return to Calcutta in the same ship as the cook, 
 so when the steamer was ready for sea I shammed sickness 
 and remained behind. But a day or two afterwards I 
 followed in another vessel determined to exact a terrible 
 revenge. The moment I landed I went straight to the 
 police hulk at Prinsep’s Ghat and disclosed the whole 
 system of opium smuggling carried on by the cook of the 
 steamer I had just left. The information was given to the 
 Inspector on condition that my name would not appear in 
 the matter, and the officer kept his promise. A day or 
 two before the steamer was ready for sea a watch was 
 kept on the movements of the Chinaman. On the evening 
 of the day before sailing, the crafty Celestial was arrested 
 on a dinghy conveying four cases, containing eight tins of 
 contraband opium on board the steamer on which he was 
 employed as cook. The defendant swore the tins contained 
 ghee. But the Inspector, who knew the secret, took the 
 
252 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 prisoner and ghee , as lie called it, straight to the lock-up, 
 where the tins were opened and examined. Each tin was 
 furnished with a tube from the opening in the top to the 
 bottom of the tin filled with ghee while the surrounding 
 space was packed with opium! 
 
 The arrest of the cook led to the apprehension of the 
 whole gang engaged in the business on shore. I had 
 therefore the satisfaction of seeing the entire nest of mis¬ 
 creants convicted. Having cleared my path of enemies, 
 I returned to my old berth as ship’s butler, but with the 
 intention of continuing the smuggling business on my 
 own account. I was now thrown upon my own resources, 
 and had to invent for myself. The kerosine oil tin dodge 
 had been exploded, so had the hot-water plate trick. For 
 in a weak moment, when I was burning to be revenged on 
 the perfidious Celestial, I let the cat out of the bag to the 
 Police Inspector. So it would not be safe for me to resort 
 to either. 
 
 After thinking the matter over for some time, it occurred 
 to me that the pumpkin, used so plentifully on board for 
 cooking purposes, might be converted into a receptacle for 
 smuggling opium. And the more I thought over this 
 matter, the more practical it seemed to me. I had often 
 seen the shells of the pumpkin used as water vessels. 
 Why, then, could it not be made to serve my purpose ? I 
 determined to make the experiment at all events. Ac¬ 
 cordingly, on my next stay in Calcutta, I went to a man 
 in Chitpore Road whose profession it was to make musical 
 instruments, water vessels for jogees and the like out of 
 pumpkin shells. I told him exactly what I wanted, a sea¬ 
 soned shell well cleaned out with an aperture in the 
 shank and not more than half an inch in diameter. The 
 shank itself I wanted preserved. So, after giving the 
 man the necessary instructions, and selecting a large size 
 
THE STORY OP AN OPIUM SMUGGLER. 
 
 253 
 
 pumpkin to be operated upon, I took my departure pro¬ 
 mising to call again in a day or two. The mistree asked 
 for a small advance, by way of earnest money, which I 
 gave him. When I called again at the shop I found, to 
 my delight, the mistree had produced the very thing 
 wanted to a nicety. I paid him his own price for the 
 article, which rather astonished him, and took it home with 
 me for a further experiment. I found it would contain 
 five seers of opium, and the small aperture at the top was 
 easily closed. It was a grand success, I now went back 
 to the mistree and ordered five more. Six pumpkin shells 
 would carry thirty seers of opium, and I thought this 
 would be quite sufficient for me to begin with single hand¬ 
 ed ; especially as there would be no division of profits, as 
 was the case when working in partnership with the 
 Chinamen. 
 
 The hollow pumpkin shells had, of course, a stale brown 
 appearance, and in order to give them a look of freshness 
 I had them touched over with a light green colouring. 
 This made them appear exactly as if they had just come 
 from the New Market. When the steamer was ready to 
 sail I brought my pumpkins on board, with a couple of 
 dozen real ones purchased in the bazar for cooking pur¬ 
 poses during the voyage, in the most open, manner pos¬ 
 sible. I then tied them in pairs by their shanks and 
 slung them over a spar which rested one end on the 
 deck house and the other on the forecastle, exposed to all 
 eyes on board. Indeed this was the safest place. Had I 
 attempted to secrete them I would have excited suspicion 
 at once. On arrival at Hong-Kong it was necessary to 
 exercise a. little strategy to get my pumpkins ashore. 
 There was an order that nothing was to leave the steamer 
 without a pass from the chief officer. So I went to the 
 
254 .' 
 
 KNAVEEY UNMASKED. 
 
 captain and told him some of the pumpkins purchased in 
 Calcutta had gone bad. But that they could be sold on 
 shore for more than their original cost, for the sake of the 
 shells, which the Chinese converted into many useful 
 domestic utensils. So the captain said to me, “ By all 
 means dispose of them ” and he directed the chief officer 
 to pass them over the side, which was done! 
 
 The pumpkin dodge was a great success, and I took 
 credit for being equally as ingenious and inventive as any 
 of the crafty, cunning Celestials. 
 
 I had gone on steadily working my own patent for 
 nearly five years, and amassing a considerable fortune, 
 when a contretemps occurred on board which spoiled my 
 little game. The steamer was loading in the port of 
 Calcutta, and was almost on the point of sailing. I had 
 got in the “ bazar ” for the voyage, had slung my pump¬ 
 kins over the spar in their usual place, and put everything 
 in my own department ship-shape and in order. Tiffin 
 had just been served, and the remainder of the day, till 
 dinner time, was my own. So I asked, and obtained, per¬ 
 mission to go ashore for a few hours on my own account. 
 The truth is, I wanted to see and say good-bye to my 
 “ girl ” as we were off at day-light the following morning. 
 During my absence one of the officers lost some English 
 sovereigns. The police were sent for and a search was 
 
 made on board, but without the desired result. The 
 
 * 
 
 Inspector was apparently at his wits’ end, and as a last 
 resource conceived the idea that the missing sovereigns 
 might be concealed in the pumpkins. One or two were 
 consequently, cut open, and so was my “ secret!” 
 
 The discovery of the smuggled opium created a great 
 sensation on board. The Custom House officers wanted 
 to claim the case, as the “ find ” was purely accidental on 
 
THE STORY OF AN OPIUM SMUGGLER. 
 
 255 
 
 the part of the police, and refused to allow the latter to 
 take away the opium. This quarrel between the two con¬ 
 tending parties was my salvation. Buxa, the manjee of 
 the ship’s dingy a great friend of mine, on hearing the 
 disturbance on board went up to ascertain the cause, and 
 when he heard that opium had been discovered in the 
 pumpkins I had that day brought on board, and that the 
 police were waiting my return, met me on the way and 
 told me what had happened. I was horrified ! I deter¬ 
 mined, however, not to fall into the hands of the Philistines, 
 and after thanking my good angel for his timely warning, 
 bolted for my life. 
 
 It is to this unfortunate circumstance, my friends, you 
 are indebted for the honour, if it be one, of having a 
 celebrated smuggler amongst you to-night. The smuggler 
 rose amid deafening applause, and the band of outlaws 
 retired to the land of dreams. 
 
 i 
 
 N. B.—The above story may furnish the Collector of Sea 
 Customs , Calcutta , with a few “ tips ” It has often occurred 
 to the writer that the revenue of the State would benefit more , 
 were a trained expert in the art of detection employed to look 
 after smuggling , than it does by the hated income-tax. 
 
 The author is not yet done with smuggling. He has a few 
 revelations to make in other departments ! 
 
256 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 THE STORY OF AX ASPIRANT TO A THRONE ! 
 
 The opium smuggler having finished his interesting 
 narrative amidst much cheering and clapping of hands, 
 the chief called upon Teepoo for the next story. This is 
 how he began. 
 
 My name is Teepoo, son of Kurrim Shaikh, late of 
 Sherepore. My father was a religious fanatic, some 
 people said he was mad, but there was method in his 
 madness. Our neighbours were the uncivilised Garos. 
 These simple children of nature are extremely credulous 
 and easily twisted into any religious belief. My father 
 therefore conceived the idea of appearing among them as 
 a religious reformer and the founder of a new sect. He 
 was not long in collecting a large following. The new 
 
THE STORY OP AN ASPIRANT TO A THRONE. 
 
 257 
 
 doctrine which lie proclaimed suited the Garos to a nicety. 
 It consisted of a compromise between their own idea of an 
 invisible being called the “ great spirit ” and deism pure 
 and simple. The new dogma was therefore not difficult 
 
 * v 
 
 to inculcate amongst a simple and superstitious people 
 like the Garos. 
 
 In addition to that of a religious reformer my father 
 professed to be gifted with supernatural powers. He 
 predicted future events by reading the stars ; told fortunes 
 from a broken egg; cast out evil spirits with the shin 
 bone of a man; discovered witches by placing a little salt 
 on their heads; and performed many other wonderful 
 miracles. Indeed, without some knowledge of legerdemain 
 a man may preach piety all his life and not gain a single 
 convert. But only let him acquire the reputation of doing 
 something out of the common and thousands will flock to 
 his standard. How silly and stupid the English mis¬ 
 sionaries must be to neglect the cultivation of magic or 
 the black art. See what Colonel Olcott and Madame 
 Blavatzky are doing in India and other places because 
 they pretend to be able to work miracles. They are 
 simply carrying all before them. I really believe that if 
 the English army were not in the way, Russia might 
 conquer India through Madame Blavatzky alone! The 
 natives of all classes would certainly follow her as blindly 
 as the French did the Maid of Orleans to death or glory. 
 
 But to return to my story. My father was regarded 
 by the Garos as an incarnation of the “ great spirit.” He 
 had even a large following in the plains, especially in 
 Sherepore, where hundreds, nay thousands, flocked to his 
 standard. His influence over the multitude was remark¬ 
 able, and he promulgated his faith with great enthusiasm. 
 
 In the ordinary course of nature my father died full of 
 
 17 
 
258 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 years and honour. Even after death his tomb was re¬ 
 garded as the resting place of a saint to which hundreds 
 resorted daily for devotional purposes. My father’s man¬ 
 tle fell to the lot of his only son Teepoo. That is your 
 humble servant. I was not, however, content with my 
 father’s lot, but aspired to something higher. I conse¬ 
 quently sounded my followers to see how far they were 
 prepared to go to see their spiritual guide, their badshah* 
 The result was encouraging. They were prepared, they 
 said, to go through fire and water if I would only lead the 
 way. But, unfortunately, my followers were actuated by 
 other motives than that of religious zeal. If it came to a 
 hand-to-hand struggle with constituted authority, they 
 would fight if I promised to free them from the oppression 
 and exactions of the zemindars whom they hated with 
 the hatred of an Irish tenant. Rude and uncivilized as 
 most of them were, they had sense enough to know that 
 the authorities allowed them unlimited religious freedom 
 without fighting for it. But if they wanted more civil 
 liberty, it was necessary to risk life and limb to obtain the 
 boon. This they were fully prepared to do on condition 
 that I promised, with the change of raj , to introduce a 
 change in the whole revenue system. In fact to abolish 
 mathot , hhaurcha , and begari and sweep the hated landlord 
 class off the face of the earth. This result, I assured 
 them, would follow in due course once I was securely 
 established on the gadi as their badshah. 
 
 In order to give you some idea of the intensity of the 
 hatred that exists between landlord and tenant, it will be 
 necessary for me to make a short digression. I will 
 illustrate my subject by an example or two from life. 
 Gooroo Das Rai was a model landlord—a fair specimen of 
 the average Bengal zemindar. He had strongly opposed 
 
THE STORY OF AN ASPIRANT TO A THRONE. 259 
 
 the extension of railways and irrigation works in his dis¬ 
 trict. But, when he found that these great State projects 
 had increased the value of land, he was the first landlord 
 to enhance the rent of his tenants. “ The ryots get twice 
 as much now foi the produce of the soil as they used to 
 get before the introduction of railways, and that canal 
 which the Sircar cut through the district has more than 
 doubled the yield of every tenant’s holding: why should 
 they have all the profit ? These words were addressed to 
 the zemindar’s gomasta who was inclined to oppose his 
 master’s proposal to enhance the rent of his ryots, the 
 gomasta remonstrated thus : “ True, the railway and the 
 canal have made the tenants’ holdings more profitable, 
 but the Sircar on that account has not increased the land 
 revenue. Your ryots have hitherto been very faithful to 
 you and yours. Do you think they will continue to be so 
 if you point the knife to their throats ?” “ Well,” replied 
 the zermndai, the Sircar cannot enhance the revenue of 
 my estate, it has been fixed by law under the permanent 
 settlement, praises be to Prajapati. But the law gives 
 me the right to do so to my tenants, and I will exercise 
 my right. I am not going to purchase what you call my 
 ryots faithfulness by such a heavy sacrifice of rent as I 
 am suffering at present.” 
 
 The zemindar of course had his way; the rents were 
 accordingly enhanced. But he reckoned without his host. 
 The ryots refused to pay higher rates for their land. The 
 zemindar was obliged to go into court. But here again 
 he was defeated. He could get no one to come forward 
 and testify to the service of the notices. “ It is a matter 
 of life and death to us,” said the ryots , “ and we must at 
 all costs prevent any witnesses appearing against us.” 
 
 After much difficulty, cajoling and bribing, the talooMar 
 
260 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 was at last successful in getting some of the ryots to come 
 forward and testify to the service of the usual notice in 
 such cases, and the zemindar now thought himself on the 
 high road to victory. But the day before the hearing of 
 the suit the names of the traitors transpired and there 
 was a general rising throughout the zemindaree. The 
 landlord’s house was burned to the ground. Then a hunt 
 was made for the traitors in the camp. They were found. 
 “ Well,” said the leaders of the opposition party, “you 
 being Mahomedans are going to give evidence against 
 Maliomedans in behalf of a vile Hindoo! Take that! 
 and that!” and a shower of blows from lathies rained upon 
 the unfortunate men until their bodies were beaten into a 
 jelly ! The ryots had now tasted blood and they became 
 furious. Other zemindarees caught the contagion and the 
 whole district was in commotion. It was as much as the 
 civil authorities could do to quell the disturbance. Dave 
 Carson says the only difference between an Irishman and 
 an Indian cultivator is this : ‘ In Ireland paddy makes the 
 riots, but in India the ryots make the paddy.’ I am 
 inclined to think there is even a closer resemblance than 
 this between the children of the Emerald Isle and the 
 Bengal ryots. 
 
 The collection of the matliot or abwab often leads to 
 serious disturbances between the landlords and tenants, 
 and if the Government were wise, all illegal exactions on 
 the part of the zemindars should be put down with a 
 strong hand. 
 
 Hunaman Singh, a tall up-country man in the service 
 of a zemindar of Kanchanpore appeared one morning at 
 the door of one of his master’s tenants with a piece of 
 paper in his hand. The tenant was seated smoking in 
 the varandah of his hut. After the customary salutation, 
 
THE STORY OF AN ASPIRANT TO A THRONE. 
 
 261 
 
 the tenant enquired, “ What is that, Hunaman Singh, yon 
 have got in your hand?” '‘That,” replied the official, 
 twisting his long moustaches “is an account of the mdthot 
 due by you to the zemindar, and which is being levied 
 from every ryot on the estate to cover the expense of his 
 son’s approaching marriage.” 
 
 “ Mdthot! dear me, how can I pay mdthot , when I am 
 actually in arrears of my rent and largely indebted to the 
 money-lender on account of my father’s obsequies and my 
 own daughter’s marriage.” 
 
 “ It is not much you have got to pay,” pleaded Huna¬ 
 man Singh ; only two annas for every rupee of rent. The 
 zemindar has very considerably reduced the mdthot as 
 this is a bad season. The ryots he says will scarcely re¬ 
 cover an eight-anna crop.” 
 
 “ For that very reason ” replied the tenant, “ I am 
 unable to pay anything. If you search my whole house 
 you will not find five pice, let alone five rupees which you 
 say is my share of the mdthot .” 
 
 “If that is the case ” returned Hunaman Singh, “you 
 must sell your brass pots, beg or borrow the money, for. 
 the zemindar must have the mdthot. If one tenant is 
 allowed to make excuses of this kind all the tenants will 
 do the same. You must pay the mdthot .” 
 
 “ How, Hunaman Singh, you just go and tell the talooh - 
 dar I am unable to pay at present. All my wife’s orna¬ 
 ments are mortgaged to the Kyar and I have nothing in 
 the house that I can turn into money.” 
 
 “You just carry that message to the talookdaree your¬ 
 self ” returned Hunaman Singh. “ And if you don’t go 
 willingly I have orders to take you by force.” 
 
 Here the tenant made a clutch at a doa lying close by. 
 Hunaman Singh attempted to frustrate his purpose and a 
 
262 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 struggle enused. The neighbours collected, rescued the 
 ryot and beat the zemindar’s nagodi into a jelly. 
 
 Where oppressions of this kind are of frequent occur¬ 
 rence is it any wonder the tenants should regard their 
 zemindars with the bitterest hatred ? The great enemy 
 of mankind, the devil himself, could not invent a more 
 wretched existence for humanity than that to which the 
 unfortunate Bengal ryots are subjected. The British 
 Government are doing something towards mitigating their 
 misery. But it is only something. The last measure of 
 reform—the Bengal Tenancy Act, an Act which was 
 strenuously opposed by the zemindars, does not go far 
 enough. 
 
 But to return to my story. The promise to free the 
 ryots from the oppressions of their zemindars acted upon 
 my followers like a spell. And the feeling even spread 
 to villages and districts in which I had no religious 
 adherents. All went well until the day fixed for a general 
 rising. The authorities had treated the movement as they 
 had done, and are doing, the National Congress, with 
 contempt. The great lesson of the Indian Mutiny had 
 been forgotten. So I depended upon this for the success 
 of my plans. I was not far wrong after all, though I was 
 obliged to yield in the end to the power and resources of the 
 Sircar. But I gave the authorities a power of trouble for 
 all that. The disturbance commenced by my following, 
 seizing and maltreating the zemindars. Many of them 
 were carried off to the hills. Then, and not till then, did 
 the Magistrate of the district rise to the occasion. 
 “What!” said he in alarm “ have the paguls ”—for as 
 such the men who first joined the movement were nick¬ 
 named—“ turned traitors ?” 
 
 “ Yes ” replied his deputy, “ but theirs is madness, with 
 
THE STORY OF AN ASPIRANT TO A THRONE. 263 
 
 a method in it. I always suspected they had some ulterior 
 object in view, but was afraid to speak out in case I only 
 got laughed at for my pains, so I kept quiet and watched 
 the progress of events. The paguls as you call them, 
 are preaching a strange religious doctrine, the text, of 
 which appears to be this, that the British Raj is about to 
 expire and their leader, Teepoo Fakir, has been chosen by 
 God as the people’s future King,* and his followers are 
 going about the district in armed bands exciting the ryots 
 to rebellion.” 
 
 “We must lose no time then,” returned the Collector, 
 ,c in bringing Teepoo and his followers to reason. I never 
 for a moment suspected they could become so turbulent 
 ind troublesome, Hitherto I had regarded Teepoo and his 
 adherents as religious fanatics—nothing more nor less—or 
 1 might have nipped the rebellion in the bud instead of 
 allowing the cancer to come to a head. Nothing now will 
 do but the surgeon’s lancet.” 
 
 The magistrate was forced to report the matter to 
 Government and ask for military assistance to stamp out 
 fke rebellion. The result was a number of my followers 
 were killed, others fled to the hills, and a number were 
 taken prisoners, myself amongst the rest and the district 
 was restored to tranquillity. 
 
 “ Now, Teepoo,” said the magistrate to me when I was 
 lodged in hajat, “ what pitiful game is this you have 
 started ?” 
 
 “ What do you mean, sir ? ” returned I, “ I do not 
 understand what you are driving at.” 
 
 “ Oh you don’t; don’t you ! ” continued the magistrate. 
 
 “ No, sir, ” replied I. 
 
 “Well my man,” went on the magistrate, “you are 
 
 * Fact. 
 
264 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 charged with treason and rebellion. What have yon got 
 to say to that ?” 
 
 “ Not guilty, ” said I. “ I am the inheritor of a Fakir's 
 Durgah, the same which my father possessed before me. 
 The people who visit me came to offer srini as to a saint. 
 I confess that there have been some large gatherings lately, 
 but the people had only come to obtain my blessing.” 
 
 “Had they no other object in view?” continued the 
 magistrate, “Did they not want to proclaim you as their 
 badshah and overturn the Company’s raj?" 
 
 “ Certainly not, sir ” was my prompt response. “ Had 
 they contemplated any such wicked intentions they would 
 not have received my blessing.” 
 
 “ Then how do you account for the rough treatment the 
 zemindars have received at the hands of your following ” ? 
 queried the magistrate. 
 
 “ I am quite unable to account for that, sir. Doubtless 
 the zemindars and their ryots had differences of their owr. 
 to settle. I know nothing about these secular matters.” 
 
 “ But you have yourself been seen roving about the dis¬ 
 trict with armed men, what did you mean by this ? ” 
 
 “ Oh, sir, I cannot prevent men from following me abou^ 
 wherever I go. Am I not their spiritual leader ? And 
 owing to the disturbed state of the district I own some o: 
 my followers did carry with them swords and firearms for 
 their own protection, but I had no hand in arming them 
 and I believe they were not armed with any crimina 
 intent.” 
 
 “ Do you mean to say that you never encouraged your 
 followers to rise against constituted authority ?” 
 
 “ No, never !’ replied I with decision. 
 
 Here the magistrate left me with the remark that I was 
 a tough customer to deal with. 
 
THE STORY OF AN ASPIRANT TO A THRONE. 
 
 265 
 
 About a week afterwards I was brought to trial on a 
 charge of “ High Treason.’’ The case for the prosecution, 
 however, completely broke down and the charge was then 
 altered to one of “ disturbing the public peace and sedi¬ 
 tious practices.” On this accusation I was found guilty, 
 convicted and sentenced to undergo five years’ rigorous 
 imprisonment. I had been in jail about six months only 
 when a great fire broke out in the labour sheds. The 
 conflagration occurred at midnight, and the prisoners were 
 let out of their cells to carry water for the purpose of ex¬ 
 tinguishing the flames. My heart jumped to my mouth the 
 moment I saw the state of affairs. Everything was in the 
 wildest confusion. Warders running here and there in 
 search of buckets and earthen vessels to carry water, no 
 one to look after the prisoners. “ Here is a chance,” I 
 said to myself, “ which may never occur again during the 
 whole term of my imprisonment. If I fail to take advan¬ 
 tage of it I deserve to die in confinement.” So suiting 
 the action to the thought I made my way to a dark corner 
 of the jail compound, placed a bamboo against the wall, 
 which I mounted with the agility of a squirrel, and was 
 soon in the promised land of freedom. Of course I deem¬ 
 ed it prudent to clear out of British territory as speedily 
 as possible. It is to these circumstances, my friends, you. 
 are indebted for the honour of having amongst you to-night 
 a man who made a bold stroke, but failed, to become a 
 badshah. 
 
266 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF A REMARKABLE MURDER l 
 
 When Teepoo, the “Aspirant to a Throne,” had con¬ 
 cluded his very entertaining narrative, for which he was 
 greatly applauded, the chief called upon Kurrim Biswas 
 for the next story, who thus began: 
 
 My name is Kurrim Biswas, son of a retired merchant 
 and trader in good circumstances. I had been brought up 
 and educated in Calcutta. But as my father was a man 
 of independent means I was not trained to any profession. 
 When, therefore, I grew up to man’s estate I had nothing 
 to do but follow the bent of my own inclinations, and very 
 vicious inclinations, I must own, they were to follow. 
 But I gave way to them all the same. My greatest fail¬ 
 ing, a failing, which amounted to a passion, and an un- 
 
THE HISTORY OF A REMARKABLE MURDER. 
 
 267 
 
 conquerable passion too, was a love of tlie fair sex. I was 
 always the victim of some charming enslaver. And as 
 my enamorata , by some strange fatality, was invariably 
 the property of somebody else, I was consequently in con¬ 
 tinual hot water! I might have actually come to grief on 
 many occasions, but I was ‘cute enough to stand well with 
 the police, and they kept me out of many a scrape. The 
 first thing I did, wherever I made a new conquest, was to 
 find out the chowkeydar of the beat and make him a hand¬ 
 some present. In return he would keep me informed 
 when the course to my “ lady’s bower ” was free from 
 danger; and acted as my guardian angel when we were 
 together. But with all these precautions I was often sur¬ 
 prised by the sudden and unexpected appearance of some 
 one or other of the male relations of my charmer. It is 
 always in this way “ love unlawful ” is found out. I will 
 relate one amusing episode of this kind, from which you 
 will be able to judge how dangerous it is to poach on 
 other men’s preserves. The poacher, I can tell you, has 
 many liair-breadth escapes, and I was no exception to the 
 rule. I had been “ paying my respects ” to a charming 
 young woman—clandestinely of course—residing in Dhur- 
 rumtollah Street. Her husband was a medical practition¬ 
 er, and while he was out, attending on his patients, I was 
 in his place cheering the lonely hours of his better half. 
 On one of these occasions he returned sooner than was ex¬ 
 pected. I was just leaving the house as he entered it. 
 I saw that I was recognised and made tracks by a back door 
 as fast as my legs could carry me. The man of drugs 
 followed crying chore ! chore ! (thief ! thief !) at the top 
 of his voice. The well-known sound brought the chowkey¬ 
 dar of the beat upon the scene. It proved to be my own 
 “ guardian angel.” He too recognised me, and pretend- 
 
268 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 ing to look in every direction for tlie fleeing thief but the 
 right one, enquires “ Where ? where ? ” “ There ! there ! ” 
 exclaimed the frantic husband, pointing after me. But 
 the chowkeydar ran in an opposite direction and seized an 
 innocent man! By this time, of course, I had disappear¬ 
 ed, and I knew the matter would go no further for fear 
 of scandal. It was a lucky escape for me at all events, as 
 I afterwards discovered. For the man of pills and po¬ 
 tions, burning with jealousy and foaming for revenge, 
 had worked up a nice little plot to run me in on a charge of 
 theft. He had taken off the Cashmere shawl which he 
 wore and throwing it after me, told the policeman that I 
 had dropped it while running away. But in order to sub¬ 
 stantiate the charge, it would have been necessary to have 
 had me arrested and recognised at the time. In this the 
 doctor was completely baffled by the wily chowkeydar. So 
 he returned home disappointed, but determined to inflict 
 a terrible revenge on the paiffner of his joys and sorrows. 
 The following morning the news went forth that the 
 doctor’s wife had died of cholera during the night and 
 that her body had been borne off to the burning ghat be¬ 
 fore sunrise. She had paid the penalty, poor thing, for 
 her share in the intrigue ! The news shot like an ice bolt 
 through my heart, and I vowed to revenge her death or 
 die in the attempt. I knew there would be no use report¬ 
 ing the matter to the police. The body had already been 
 cremated and all evidence of crime completely obliterated. 
 To invoke the aid of the law under such circumstances 
 would, to a dead certainty, result in failure : and not only 
 that, it would tie my hands in regard to any action I 
 might afterwards be induced to take to avenge the death 
 of the woman who had risked and lost her life on my ac¬ 
 count. If after coming forward and publicly accusing her 
 
the history of a remarkable murder. 
 
 269 
 
 murderer, or the man I believed to be her murderer, 
 and he were to escape for want of evidence, and was 
 afterwards found with his throat cut, suspicion would 
 point to me as sure as fate. So I resolved to be chiip. 
 
 I could then be his accuser, judge, jury and execu¬ 
 tioner all in one, without running much risk of dis¬ 
 covery. To this end I bent all my energies, craft, and 
 skill — an d I was no mean proficient in the art of inven¬ 
 tion. 
 
 After thinking the matter over for some days, and 
 dreaming about it for as many nights ; for I could think 
 and invent as well in my sleep as in my waking moments, 
 
 I, at last, resolved upon the adoption of the following plan 
 to inveigle my victim to his fate. But I will pass on from 
 what I resolved to do, to what I actually did. I engaged 
 a small isolated house in the suburbs of the city enclosed 
 by a compound wall with a deep but narrow well in the 
 centre. After taking possession I had the hair of my 
 head, eyebrows, and moustache shaved off and pretended 
 to be very ill; too ill in fact to get out of bed. I gave out 
 that I was a Brahmin and had come from a long distance 
 to seek medical aid in Calcutta; and that I had been told 
 of a certain physician who was considered a specialist in 
 my case. I, accordingly, sent for this man. He came, 
 prescribed for me, but failed to recognise his patient. One 
 night I pretended to be worse than usual, and requested 
 the doctor to sleep in the house in case I should require 
 his aid before morning. He consented. That was his 
 last sleep on earth ! I got up in the middle of the night, 
 crept stealthily into his room, he was snoring heavily at 
 the time, and stabbed him to the heart! He died with¬ 
 out a groan, I then flung his vile carcass down the well 
 in the compound; and destroyed all traces of the crime, 
 
 
270 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 ♦ 
 
 by burning the bed clothes, which were saturated with 
 blood. 
 
 The following day I sent for the landlord of the house 
 and told him, still pretending to be very ill and weak, that 
 I had a dream during the night to the effect that if the well 
 in the compound was filled up, an asvatha tree planted over 
 the spot and an image of the god Panchanana —literally, 
 five-faced, a form of the all-destroying Siva,—set up under 
 its branches, I should get well instantly, otherwise I would 
 surely die. I offered to pay all the expenses together with 
 that of sinking a new well if the landlord, who was also 
 an orthodox Brahmin, would assist me to carry out the 
 will of the gods ! I hinted, at the same time, something 
 about the awful consequences of incurring a Brahmin’s 
 dying, curse, if my purposes were thwarted! This had 
 the desired effect. The well was filled in, the sacred 
 asvatha tree planted over the spot and the image of that 
 most hideous in appearance of all the gods in the Hindoo 
 pantheon— Panchanana —was set up under its branches. 
 My mind was now at ease. I knew that no one, not even 
 the most suspicious of mankind, would ever suspect that 
 a Brahmin would resort to such means to concea] 
 crime! If he did so, he might expect to be instantly 
 turned into an unclean beast or smitten with a loathsome 
 disease. For among the three hundred and thirty million 
 of Hindoo deities of both genders, there is none which is 
 more dreaded than this five-faced and fifteen-eyed monster ! 
 But with all his malignant attributes, like the Satan of 
 the Christians, he is not without his guod points. He 
 has been known to make barren women fruitful! and on 
 that account is the most devoutly worshipped, especially 
 by Hindoo women denied the blessings of offspring, of all 
 the gods. 
 
THE HISTORY OF A REMARKABLE MURDER. 
 
 271 
 
 My recovery after tliis event was, of course, rapid. But 
 before I had taken my departure from the scene of the 
 murder the doctor was missed. The police had been round 
 all his patients to make enquiries, myself amongst the 
 rest, my story was very simple. The missing man had 
 visited me for the last time on the evening of his dis¬ 
 appearance. His stay was short, and by way of apologis¬ 
 ing for his abrupt departure, he mentioned that he had 
 a serious and important case, which required immediate 
 attention, at the other end of the town. So after pre¬ 
 scribing for me he hurried away, promising to call again 
 the following day. I had not seen him since. This 
 account seemed to satisfy the human sleuth hounds, and. 
 
 I was not. troubled with any further questioning on the 
 subject. Who, not even old Nick himself, would suspect 
 a feeble, bed-ridden patient, of putting his doctor, a hale, 
 hearty man in the prime of life, out of the way! Such an 
 idea is too ridiculous to even think of! 
 
 A day or two after my interview with the police, I 
 settled up with my landlord and bid him goodbye, with a 
 Brahmin’s blessing. I hinted that he had done more to 
 hasten my recovery than the leech who had so mysteriously 
 disappeared, and whose nostrums only sickened instead of 
 curing me. To this the good old man remarked, “ Your 
 recovery is due to the benign influence of a spiritual 
 physician, who, pleased with your recent act of piety, has 
 spirited away the quack doctor whose nostrums would have 
 poisoned you 1 The gods have shown you much favour. 
 You are a Brahmin of the Brahmins ! Salam! Salarn /” 
 So we parted. 
 
 I returned to my home and cast off the hated disguise 
 I had assumed in order to carry out my dread pur¬ 
 pose of revenge. I had been successful so far, my hated 
 
272 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 enemy and rival liad expiated his crime; and I felt ab¬ 
 solutely secure of detection. Still I was not happy! My 
 rest at night was disturbed by dreadful dreams. I grew 
 nervous and melancholy, aud would start at the merest 
 shadow. My heart w r ould jump to my mouth at the sight 
 of a policeman. I could not bear to see a fowl killed and 
 would almost faint at the sight of blood ! I often felt a 
 strong impulse, amounting at times to an irresistible 
 power, urging me to go to the thana and confess my crime. 
 But the moment I saw a chowJceydar , fear got the better of 
 my inclinations and I slunk back again in terror and dis~ 
 may, looking round every now and then, lest a human 
 sleuth hound was dogging my steps! Existence to me 
 was becoming intolerable. And, to make matters w r orse, 
 the search after the missing doctor, which the local police 
 had given up in despair, was taken in hand and prosecuted 
 with more intelligence, vigour and determination by the 
 Detective Department. The Superintendent, who was a 
 9 cute “ cuss,” full of observation and the art of turning it 
 to good account, had not been long on the case before he 
 got hold of the palanquin bearers who had carried the doc¬ 
 tor to the house of the sick Brahmin on the evening prior 
 to his disappearance. These wily Ooriahs informed the 
 police that they had been told by their “ fare ” to call for 
 him again at daylight the next day; and in pursuance of 
 their instructions they accordingly did call, but were told 
 by the sick Brahmin that the doctor had gone away dur¬ 
 ing the night to attend upon another patient. Who was 
 this sick Brahmin ? was the knotty question the police 
 next undertook to unravel. The landlord of the house 
 where he had put up was sent for and questioned on the 
 subject. But all that he could say about the individual 
 wanted was, that he had been his tenant for a short time, 
 
THE H[STORY OF A REMARKABLE MURDER. 
 
 273 
 
 and proved a good tenant too, for although he only occupied 
 the house for ten or twelve days he paid rent for an entire 
 quarter. “ Oh ! he did; did he ? ” exclaimed the Detective 
 Superintendent in surprise. Then drawing out his pocket 
 book, he said, “ I’ll just make a note of that, it’s so out of 
 the common in the Hindoo character.” The landlord con¬ 
 tinued, “ But my tenant was a Brahmin and a very holy 
 man.” “ No doubt of it ” returned the police officer with 
 a roguish twinkle of the eye, which indicated as clearly 
 as human language could express it, that he “didn’t 
 believe a word of it.” “But, sir,” pleaded the landlord, 
 
 “ I have the most positive evidence of the fact.” He then 
 took the officer to where the asvaiha tree had been planted, 
 and the idol set up under its branches, at the request, and 
 at the expense, of the holy Brahmin. “ And what was 
 here,” enquired the Superintendent, “ before the planting 
 of the asvatlm tree ? ” “ An old unused well, which I 
 
 often thought would some day prove a man trap,” (he 
 wasn’t aware then it had already been turned into a man 
 trap !) “ and on that account was glad to have it filled up,” 
 was the landlord’s reply. “ And who paid the expense of 
 filling it up P ” was the Superintendent’s next question. 
 “ The holy Brahmin ” returned the landlord. 
 
 He then related to the police officer the Brahmin’s 
 dream and the action which had been taken in consequence, 
 A new light seemed to dawn upon the Superintendent, 
 and he enquired of the landlord if the well had been filled 
 up before or after the disappearance of the doctor. “ Let 
 me think,” said the landlord, “yes, it was the day after, 
 the police had come to the sick man to enquire when he 
 had been last visited by the doctor.” This confirmed the 
 dawning suspicions that had begun to take shape in the 
 mind of the detective. So the officer told the landlord 
 18 
 
274 
 
 knavery unmasked. 
 
 that the well would have to be cleared out again. The 
 pious Hindoo looked horrified! “Desecration!” he ex¬ 
 claimed at once, “ desecration! I cannot permit it! My 
 religion will not permit it! ” But the detective officer was 
 not to be deterred by the religious scruples of the pious 
 Hindoo where the majesty of the law was to be vindicated, 
 and the work of “ desecration ” commenced at once, in 
 spite of strenuous opposition. The result was, my 
 “ secret” had been brought to light. The missing doctor 
 had been accounted for. But his murderer was still un¬ 
 known and at large. The “ holy Brahmin ” had to be 
 traced. 
 
 “Ho easy task this,” I often said to myself, “for the 
 human sleuth hounds.” And, indeed, the secret might 
 have died with me had I been sufficiently discreet. But 
 fear blinded my judgment, and I was the first to give the 
 police a clue to the man they were in quest of. This is 
 what I did. With a view to turning the attention of the 
 police on a wrong scent, I addressed an anonymous letter 
 to the Superintendent, stating that the doctor’s murderer 
 was a native of Benares and the custodian of a Hindoo 
 temple in the holy city. That the doctor and his wife 
 had once made a pilgrimage to Benares, and while staying 
 there a priest of one of the numerous temples had fallen 
 in love with the latter. The husband on discovering the 
 intrigue returned at once with his erring spouse to Cal¬ 
 cutta. But the memory of her unfaithfulness continued 
 to rankle in his mind, till at last driven to desperation by 
 jealousy he quietly put her out of the way. The know¬ 
 ledge of her fate came to the ears of the priest, who, 
 suspecting foul play, came to Calcutta, under the pretence 
 of being sick and requiring medical aid, to revenge her 
 death. He engaged a house in the suburbs, called in the 
 
THE HISTORY OP A REMARKABLE MURDER. 
 
 275 
 
 man lie intended to murder to attend upon him and when 
 an opportunity served, carried through his purpose, con¬ 
 cealing the body in a well in the compound of the pre¬ 
 mises. Having thus accomplished his mission he returned 
 to Benares. A good deal of this letter was true. The 
 doctor and his wife had been to Benares and he left the 
 holy city sooner than he otherwise would have done, be¬ 
 cause he thought his better half had been too constant 
 
 and frequent in her attendance at a certain temple on the 
 banks of the river which was served by a handsome priest. 
 This secret I learned from the woman herself. But my 
 letter had not the desired effect. Instead of misleading 
 the police it brought them a step nearer the object of 
 their search. I had used the Sanskrit character and 
 endeavoured to express myself as a Hindoo. But in this 
 I was not wholly successful. There were some expressions 
 which betrayed the fact that the writer of the anonymous 
 letter was a Mahomedan and not a Hindoo. In this 
 opinion Major Lees, the great Oriental scholar, who was 
 consulted, concurred. So the police instead of going to 
 Benares to look for the doctor’s murderer, got hold of the 
 examination papers of the various schools and colleges in 
 Bengal, Behar and Orissa, and set to work comparing the 
 composition and mode of expression of the anonymous 
 letter with the school exercises of boys for several years 
 back. The moment this information was brought to me, 
 for I had a private detective of my own watching every 
 movement in the case, taken by the police, I thought it 
 time to “ skeddadle,” and it was well I did so, for the 
 police the day after my disappearance were making en¬ 
 quiries after me. They had found what they wanted, but 
 the bird had taken wing in the meantime and left them 
 
 in the lurch. , X thought it best for my safety to leave 
 
276 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 British territory; and after much wandering about fell in 
 with this honourable band of dacoits in whose company I 
 have enjoyed comparative peace of mind ever since. Hav¬ 
 ing no cause now to conceal my crime from any of you, I 
 have as easy a conscience as the great Roman Pontiff 
 himself. 
 
 “Bravo! Hurra!” from the whole strength of the 
 
 company. 
 
THE STORY OF A PROFESSIONAL COINER. 
 
 277 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE STORY OF A PROFESSIONAL COINER. 
 
 When the “man of blood,” as tlie doctor’s murderer 
 was jocosely called amongst tlie outlaws, liad made an end 
 of bis entertaining, tbougb somewhat ghastly, narrative, 
 the chief called upon the “ coiner ” for the next story, 
 who thus began:— 
 
 I am known amongst my friends and acquaintances as 
 the “ Mistree,” but amongst my enemies—the police—as 
 the “ professional coiner.” I commenced life in a very 
 humble position in the Calcutta Mint. But I was sharp, 
 active, and attentive to my work, and the sahib rewarded 
 my industry by rapid promotion. I was raised from a 
 “ jack ” on rupees five per month to a “mistree” on 
 rupees fifteen before I had completed my fifth year of ser- 
 
278 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 vice. I was now in a position of trust, had gained a good 
 name, in a short time, for sobriety, industry and honesty, 
 and I resolved, to make a fortune by it. I was a bit of a 
 philosopher too, in a quiet way, be it observed, that is, I 
 never attempted to make a parade of my philosophy or 
 trumpeted it forth to the world, as some men do, but kept it 
 quietly to myself. I reasoned in this way. My experience 
 of the world teaches me that there are men with good 
 names and men with bad names, and men who take up a 
 middle position, whose names are neither good nor bad 
 enough to be noticed. These are the most luckless dogs 
 in existence, they are not good enough to be admired or 
 bad enough to excite sympathy, so they have to bear the 
 inconvenience of society’s mistrust! Take for example a 
 man who has made a slight slip in common honesty; the 
 fact will turn up against him again and again, and his 
 whole future career will be thoroughly damaged. He is 
 not guilty enough to become an object of interest. He is 
 not sufficiently innocent to avoid suspicion. Prudent peo¬ 
 ple avoid him; philanthropists find him not worth powder 
 and shot. But let him stand forth a determined villain, 
 and he will be surrounded by hundreds of benevolent peo¬ 
 ple anxious to reclaim him. It may be that he has sub¬ 
 jected himself to the penalties of the law, but even these 
 will fall lightly upon him in the end if he only consents 
 to become a deserving bad character! At the present 
 moment hundreds of small offenders are undergoing their 
 terms of imprisonment without any hope of mitigation ; 
 but only the other day the sympathy of all India was 
 roused to fever heat for the greatest scoundrel and crimi¬ 
 nal in the land, Tantia Bliil! # 
 
 * ^l 1 ® following is an extract from a Calcutta journal re the 
 notorious outlaw! 
 
THE STORY OF A PROFESSIONAL COINER. 
 
 279 
 
 If an exceedingly bad name may be turned to such good 
 account, a good name, you may be sure, may be turned to 
 a better. But it is one thing to deserve a good name, and 
 another thing to get it. To be practically useful, your 
 merits must be trumpeted forth, advertised, paraded and 
 puffed, like a quack medicine, or a new soap. A great 
 deal of this may be done—and with some success—with¬ 
 out justification for the trumpeting, advertising, parading, 
 and puffing process—upon false pretences, in fact. But, 
 however acquired, a good name may be made a mine of 
 wealth. To say nothing of profits and honours, it brings 
 privileges; and one of the most useful privileges of a good 
 name is that its owner may deserve a bad one with a very 
 good chance of not being found out. It is by persons of 
 good character, or supposed good character, that most 
 great crimes have been committed, and most of the mis¬ 
 chief done in the world. They have opportunities, denied 
 to their less reputable brethren, who are soon discovered 
 and pulled up short in their career. 
 
 I knew a man of my acquaintance who had the reputa- 
 tion of being a fool. Now he happened to be one of the 
 most sensible men I had ever met with. But few people 
 had the sagacity to discover wherein his strength lay. 
 
 Tantia, the great Bhil outlaw—the modern Jack Sheppard—the 
 hero of a thousand dacoities, whose exploits in the Central Pro¬ 
 vinces are known far and wide, has been photographed. The face 
 is hardly an attractive one, but a certain look of earnestness beneath 
 the rugged brow reveals something of that true touch of humanity 
 —the sympathy, the compassion to feel for, and befriend the weak 
 who are despoiled by the strong, against whom he was always in 
 arms, that has made the name of Tantia revered amongst the dumb 
 ryots of Central India, once the scene of his happy hunting grounds. 
 Tantia’s likeness is worth preserving: he is the hero of many a 
 romance in real life.— Statesman , Sept. 21. 
 
280 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 The consequence was that his cleverness in certain busi¬ 
 ness transactions took people unawares, which gave him 
 such an advantage over them that he had acquired a for¬ 
 tune before they found out their mistake! 
 
 Another man I had known was credited with being a 
 most consummate liar. He did not gain the reputation 
 for nothing, for he was one. I need scarcely mention the 
 fact, that he was a native of Bengal. How that man used 
 to lie was a caution! When he did speak the truth, 
 which was very seldom, he did so with the same object 
 that influences a fairly truthful man to resort to falsehood, 
 to mistify and drive people out of their calculations. His 
 very truth was falsehood emphasised. For he well knew 
 his audience would believe to be true the very reverse of 
 what he told them. 
 
 This is how I gained my good name for truth and hon¬ 
 esty. My sahib took credit to himself for being a keen 
 observer of human nature, at least Bengali human nature. 
 
 He believed the Bengalis to be a nation of liars, in this 
 he was not far wrong, but he had yet to learn that their 
 very truth was falsehood and their falsehood truth ! This 
 is the very acumen of the art of deception, and a very fine 
 art it is too, too fine, in fact, for the sight of an average 
 Englishman. See how the Congress-wallahs, who claim 
 to be the representatives of the people, have fooled Mr. 
 Hume with all his Indian experience ! This should be a 
 caution to the globe-trotters. 
 
 But I am digressing. Whenever a new hand was 
 appointed to my department, and the sahib thought he 
 detected a dash of roguishness in his countenance, I not 
 only placed temptation in his way, but encouraged him to 
 peculation; and then betrayed him ! Wouldn’t the sahib 
 chuckle at his own sagacity when he saw the scorcher 
 
THE STORY OF A PROFESSIONAL COINER. 
 
 281 
 
 fork-out the blank rupees! Technically speaking, a 
 blank rupee means a coin that has just been cut out of the 
 sheet of silver, and before it receives the impression, or 
 as we say in the Mint, before it is “ struck.” After under¬ 
 going the latter operation peculation is impossible. “Yes,” 
 he would say, turning to me, “ I told you that fellow was 
 a thief. I knew it by his looks.” To which I would ex¬ 
 claim, “ Sab ash ! S abash ! Saresvati-ka-beta hazur /” (li¬ 
 terally—Well clone ! Well done ! Your honour is the son 
 [incarnation] of the Goddess of Wisdom !) “ Yield to a 
 
 man’s fads and he will yield to your interests ” was always 
 a favourite maxim of mine. Whenever the sahib asked 
 my opinion about any person or thing, I always contrived 
 to find out what master thought himself and fashioned 
 my reply accordingly. I had my reward. The sahib 
 would often say to me after I had brought a comrade to 
 grief for peculation, “ Jack,” (he always called me by the 
 familiar name of Jack) “ I am never mistaken in my man, 
 I was never deceived in you, I could read truth and hon¬ 
 esty in that brown face of yours from the first day I set 
 eyes on you.” I acknowledged the compliment by joining 
 my hands, bowing low and replying “ Hazur” I really 
 believe that if the entire Mint had been “gutted” I would 
 have been the last person to be suspected. It was the old 
 game of deception which the sepoys practised on their 
 officers in 1857, being played over again. The latter re¬ 
 fused to believe in the disloyalty of their men even when 
 their children, as they familiarly called them, were 
 levelling the guns at their heads ! 1STow it so happened, 
 just at this time, when the sahib was so loud in his praises 
 of my integrity, I had invented a grand scheme for robbing 
 the Mint. In fact, it was then in full operation. My 
 accomplice in the crime was a large cheel (haivk !) Yes, 
 
282 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 you may laugh, but its a fact all the same. This is how 
 the trick was done. Just outside the Mint compound 
 there was a large jack tree, and in that tree sat a hawk 
 waiting patiently for the balance of my dinner; and at 
 the foot of that tree squatted a woman selling pan ; that 
 woman was my wife. Now between the three of us we 
 did a roaring business. My dinner over, I threw the 
 balance usually a dressed pigeon stuffed with blank rupees 
 —to the hawk. The intelligent bird picked it up, carried 
 it to the tree aforesaid and stripped it to the bone. Then 
 the tree began to rain rupees; my wife picked them up 
 and shut up her shop for the day at the same time. And 
 well she might for she had made a good day’s wages! 
 Every day for months that hawk was^ound at his post at 
 the same hour on the look-out for the balance of my din¬ 
 ner. My wife with her pan stall was very much en evi¬ 
 dence at the same place about the same hour, equally anxi¬ 
 ous about the remnants of the hawk’s repast. I was on the 
 high road to fortune. But a change came over the spirit 
 of my dream. My intelligent bird like our friend and 
 brother the Baboo, on the strength of his subsistence 
 allowance, took unto himself a wife and begat sons and 
 daughters. This act of indiscretion brought us both to 
 grief. The hawk not only lost his subsistence allowance, 
 but his life, and I lost my post. It occurred in this wise. 
 The hawk instead of going to his usual perch in the jack 
 tree to enjoy his dinner carried it off to share with his 
 wife and family. On the road one or two other hawks 
 attempted to dispute his possession, and in the scrimmage 
 that took place in mid air the bone of contention fell into 
 a gentleman’s compound. The fall scattered the rupees 
 about, and the native servants in superstitious terror ran 
 to their master to say it was raining silver pieces. The 
 
THE STORY OF A PROFESSIONAL COINER. 
 
 283 ' 
 
 gentleman came to the spot, picked up the coins and sent 
 them to the police office, with an account of their strange 
 advent. The Superintendent, who had frequent cases of 
 peculation at the Mint to enquire into, knew at once from 
 whence the silver pieces had come. So the first thing he 
 did was to interview the Mint Master. The coins were 
 recognised all the more readily because they were “blanks.” 
 Had they been “ struck,” of course recognition would have 
 been out of the question. But they were only half manu¬ 
 factured rupees, and could not have been obtained an} r - 
 where else but at the Mint. The question now was, how 
 did they get out of the premises ? Every individual 
 employed in the department where peculation was possible, 
 was minutely searched under the supervision of a Euro¬ 
 pean warder, before lie left the Mint precincts of an even¬ 
 ing. The solution of the problem was surrounded with 
 much doubt and difficulty. One suggested one thing, 
 another something else, but all wide of the mark. At 
 last it was decided to keep a watch on the Mint premises 
 from the outside. The Mint Master had heard, he said, of 
 a case in England where an employe had filled the body 
 of a dead rat with sovereigns and lifting it up by the tail 
 flung it over the Mint will to an accomplice on the other 
 side. This was the nearest guess that had yet been made 
 to account for the manner in which the blank rupees had 
 found their way out of the Mint. The real secret had 
 never been suspected for a moment. While all this enquiry 
 had been going on I was engaged searching the neigh¬ 
 bourhood for my truant bird. I found him with his mate 
 and a brood of youngsters in a tree in Tank Square. To 
 this tree I shifted my wife with her pan stall. It was use¬ 
 less, however, for the very next day the hawk was shot 
 by the Police Superintendent as it was rising from the 
 
284 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 Mint compound witli the body of a pigeon, stuffed with 
 silver pieces, in its talons. I heard the report of the gun, 
 ran to the window and saw my bird fall. The police 
 officer and my sahib were making for the spot. My heart 
 jumped to my mouth. I could see it was all up with me 
 now, the cat was out of the bag, and I was out of the Mint 
 in a jiffy. I knew I would be the first suspected as none 
 of the other workmen had the same opportunity to pilfer 
 that I had. I was right in my surmises, for the moment 
 the sahib and the police officer returned to the Mint one 
 of the warders was told to go and call “ Jack.” “ Jack,” 
 replied the official, “has just left saying he had got an 
 attack of cholera, or something of that kind, and he looked 
 the picture of a corpse.’ “Sold by heavens!” exclaimed 
 the police officer, and then there was a rush for my house. 
 But this child was too old a bird to be caught with chaff. 
 The police, however, searched my domicile and found 
 further evidence of my guilt in the shape of “ blank ” 
 rupees. My sahib after this gave up reading native cha¬ 
 racter. He declared, by his God, he would never trust a 
 black man again. 
 
 I was now thrown completely on my own resources for 
 a living. My first care, of course, was for my personal 
 safety. I knew there would be within a few hours of my 
 disappearance a warrant out for my arrest, I had, there¬ 
 fore, not much time to form any plans for the future, but 
 I had lately noticed that nearly all the Bengali Baboos 
 out of place were drifting towards Assam, and I thought 
 I would go with the stream. So to Assam I went. 
 Having got there my next thought was, “ What shall I 
 do for a living ? There is no mint in which I might seek 
 employment—so I must turn my attention to something 
 else.” While musing over my distressful circumstances 
 
THE STORY OF A PROFESSIONAL COINER. 
 
 285 
 
 in tliis way a happy thought struck me. It was this. I 
 had gained a fair technical knowledge of how genuine 
 rupees were produced, why not turn this knowledge to 
 account and go in for manufacturing counterfeits ? The 
 infant thought was scarcely twenty-four hours old before 
 it was put into practice. By way of revenge I started an 
 opposition business to the Calcutta Mint. The venture 
 proved a grand success. I turned out rupees from a white 
 metal, a composition of my own invention, that the igno¬ 
 rant villagers were unable to distinguish from the genuine 
 article. Just at this time I happened to foregather with 
 a gang of strolling gipsies. We fraternized at once. 
 They were just the tools I wanted to push my new coins 
 into circulation. This is how they did the trick. During 
 our progress through the province, the gang would file 
 oft in pairs to the different villages en route. On arriving 
 in front of a cottage they would ask for a handful of rice. 
 This was scarcely ever refused. Before leaving, however, 
 one of the pair would produce seventeen or eighteen annas 
 in pice and ask a rupee for it. The villager, of course, 
 would jump at the offer. When the rupee was produced 
 the gipsy would examine it critically to see that it 
 was all right. But not satisfied with his own judgment 
 the coin was passed on to his accomplice for an expression 
 of his opinion. The second Gipsy, after turning the 
 rupee • over and over a few times, would put it into his 
 mouth, take it out again, wipe it dry and submit it to a 
 further and final inspection. Then with a negative shake 
 of the head, the gipsy would say: “No, this is not the 
 kind of rupee that passes in my country! Its another 
 kind of rupee! ” and the gipsy tries to explain to the 
 villager the sort of rupee he requires. The dupe of course 
 goes in and brings out another rupee which is put through 
 
286 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 the same tests as the first with exactly the same result. 
 This goes on till the patience or the little store of rupees 
 of the villager is exhausted. And the gipsies gather up 
 their pice and depart for fresh fields and pastures green! 
 They leave their unfortunate dupe to find out.thelway lie 
 can that all his genuine rupees have been exchanged for 
 counterfeits ! The exchange takes place when the gipsy 
 puts the rupee into his mouth. A spurious one is taken 
 out in its place. 
 
 My general practice was to clear out of a district where 
 J had put a large amount of spurious money into circula¬ 
 tion before any of it had time to find its way into the 
 Government treasury. On one occasion I neglected this 
 wise precaution and was very nearly coming to grief in 
 consequence. I had scarcely left the head-quarters of a 
 district when bad money began to come into the treasury. 
 The Deputy Commissioner was informed and ordered an 
 enquiry. My gang, who had been seen hovering about 
 the place for some days, was suspected. A Baboo In¬ 
 spector with a couple of constables were despatched in 
 pursuit. We were overtaken, and overhauled at the same 
 time. Implements of coining were found in our possession, 
 and we were all made prisoners. On the way back to 
 head-quarters I succeeded in flaking terms with the In¬ 
 spector for our release; after a good deal of haggling, he 
 offered to set us at liberty and restore the implements of 
 my profession for two hundred rupees. I paid him in 
 counterfeits ! and we were set at liberty. The Inspector 
 and his men on returning to head-quarters reported to the 
 Deputy Commissioner that they had come up with and 
 overhauled the suspected gang of gipsies, but finding no 
 evidence of crime in their possession they were allowed to 
 continue their journey. 
 
THE STOR.Y OF A PROFESSIONAL COINER. 
 
 28? 
 
 This story appeared quite satisfactory to the Deputy 
 Commissioner and nothing more was thought of the 
 matter. 
 
 It was not many days, however, after the above event 
 before the treasury officer was startled by another influx 
 of bad money. This time the counterfeits were traced to 
 a woman living under the protection of the Baboo In¬ 
 spector. The woman, when questioned, acknowledged re¬ 
 ceiving the money from lierparamour. A search of the In¬ 
 spector’s quarters resulted in the discovery of one hundred 
 and eighty of the spurious coins. The Baboo was arrested 
 and charged with being in possession of, and passing bad 
 money with a guilty knowledge. He admitted the posses¬ 
 sion, but denied the guilty knowledge, and in order to sat¬ 
 isfy the court on this point he was obliged to admit how 
 he came by the coin.* This admission placed my neck 
 in extreme danger. A warrant was immediately issued 
 for my arrest and that of my accomplices. The process 
 was backed up by the offer of a large reward for our 
 apprehension. I, therefore, deemed it prudent to break 
 with the gipsies and flee from British territory. And 
 that is how, my friends, I am here amongst you to-night! 
 
 The coiner rose amidst tremendous applause. 
 
 # Fact. The Inspector on his own admission was convicted and 
 sentenced to three years’ rigorous imprisonment on the minor 
 charge of receiving an illegal gratification and releasing the coiner. 
 The case was heard before Mr. Driberg, Deputy Commissioner, 
 Assam. 
 
288 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED, 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 JOHN CHINAMAN’S STORY. 
 
 The professional coiner having concluded his entertain¬ 
 ing narrative amidst deafening applause, the chief called 
 upon John Chinaman for the next story. He accordingly 
 began in this manner. 
 
 We Chinese are designated “ Celestials ” because from 
 the earliest ages the Empire of China has been called 
 “ Heaven,” the Emperor thereof being known as “ Heaven’s 
 Son” or “God”, and naturally the people of such 
 “ Celestial deities” began to be called “ Celestials.” The 
 Emperor combines in his person the attributes of supreme 
 magistrate and sovereign pontiff, and as “ Heaven’s Son ” 
 he is accountable to “ Heaven ” alone for all his acts. His 
 authority is, perhaps, the most complete and deeply rooted 
 
john chinaman’s story. 
 
 289 
 
 that exists anywhere on the faee of the earth. There is 
 no nobility, no priesthood, no privileged body of any 
 description which can share, and thereby diminish, the 
 respect and influence claimed by the sovereign. In no 
 individual does there exist any sentiment of honour or 
 pride which can deter him from laying himself in the dust 
 beneath his imperial master’s feet. The Emperor is also 
 styled “Son of the sun and moon” and this doctrine is 
 incorporated in all our religious books and our oldest 
 traditions. As “ Heaven ” has not two suns, earth has not 
 two kings, a family has not two masters, a sovereign 
 power has not two directors, so the “ Celestial Empire ” 
 has not two Emperors, but one only; and he is heaven’s 
 sole vicegerent upon earth, every other sovereign being- 
 considered as his vassal. He seldom appears in public 
 and when he does so far condescend he is clothed in robes 
 like the sun. All brightness! splendour! and magni¬ 
 ficence ! 
 
 The children of the Celestial Empire are the only people 
 on earth that taste of the sweets of heaven on this side of 
 the grave. For are we not all consumers of opium in one 
 form or other ? and who, that is not an opium eater or 
 smoker, ever had a foretaste of heaven upon earth ! Hone I 
 none ! The Chinese dearly love their opium. They will 
 do anything for it. Gamble, smuggle, rob, murder, aye, 
 and sell their wives and families for it! To them it is 
 life. When they are without it, the infernal regions gape 
 and yawn and send forth battalions of demons, devils, 
 voracious monsters with wings, snakes and other poisonous 
 reptiles, to dog your steps ; to grin at you; to mock yon; 
 to spit at you; to hiss at you, and cry “ Hoi-yoi-ai !” 
 But a single drachm of opium changes all this, opens 
 Heaven and angels robed in garments of dazzling white- 
 19 
 
290 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKRD. 
 
 ness come forth to fan yon, to shampoo yon, and lnll yon 
 to rest by sweetest mnsic! Sorrow, pain, even loves and 
 debts, are forgotten and yon gradually sink into a trance 
 of the most absorbing bliss. 
 
 When the effects of the opinm begin to work off, the 
 victim gradually awakes to consciousness. Then the de¬ 
 mons appear again. First one starts up, grins and retires, 
 then a snake appears, rears its hood, shoots forth its 
 forked tongue, hisses and retires. Then a monster like a 
 dragon comes up, spits fire at you and disappears. By 
 this time you are thoroughly awake and a whole battalion 
 of demons, snakes, and dragons rush upon you. You try 
 to escape, but they follow you, grin at you, spit at you, 
 and torment you, wherever you go! There is only one 
 escape from their fury. Another dose of opium! To 
 this you fly for very life ! But the dose, to produce the 
 desired effect, must exceed that of the preceding libation. 
 The craving for opium, if not satisfied, exceeds the tor¬ 
 ments of hell! Aye, ten thousand hells ! 
 
 I will now proceed to describe the principal forms in 
 which opium is consumed. Amongst my countrymen, the 
 favourite form of indulgence is smoking the drug. A 
 piece of crude opium is attached to the point of a knitting 
 needle. This is held over the flame of a candle until it 
 acquires the consistency of treacle. The needle during 
 the process, is turned round and round to prevent the 
 opium falling off. When it is sufficiently roasted the 
 opium is taken off the needle with the fingers, rolled into 
 a little ball, and inserted in a small hole in the bowl of a 
 pipe specially prepared for smoking the drug. The cus¬ 
 tomers now range themselves on a machan in a reclining 
 position, and the pipe is passed round. 
 
 It is necessary while smoking to hold the bowl of the 
 
John Chinaman’s stony. 
 
 291 
 
 pipe over the flame of a candle. One of the most in¬ 
 teresting sights ever witnessed is to watch the changing 
 features of an opium smoker as he inhales the delicious 
 nectar! The eyes which were before dull and expression¬ 
 less suddenly become bright and beam with intelligence. 
 The skin which was dry and shrivelled assumes the ap¬ 
 pearance of a well nourished and healthy youth. In fact, 
 the whole appearance of the man undergoes a rapid and 
 magical change, from wistful deep dejected langour to 
 voluptuous satisfaction and gratification. His very eyes 
 close from sheer relish! 
 
 At this stage the opium smoker becomes very talkative 
 and brilliantly witty. It is most amusing to listen to 
 their conversation during certain stages of intoxication. 
 Here is an example: “ My father,” said an old opium 
 smoker between the whiffs of his pipe, to his companion, 
 “ had a game preserve that extended from one end of 
 India to the other. In this game preserve he built a 
 palace, so extensive and lofty that it interfered with the 
 movements of the moon in the lieavsns and had to be 
 reduced one storey in consequence. Hound the palace he 
 had gardens so beautiful that the gods deemed it a pri¬ 
 vilege to be allowed to walk in them. The very flowers 
 scented the whole earth ! ” “ Oh ! that is nothing ” replied 
 
 his companion. “ My father had a menagerie that ex¬ 
 tended from one end of the world to the other. And in 
 this menagerie he had a giraffe so tall that he used to 
 employ it to bring down snow from the clouds to cool his 
 sherbet in summer.” “ Oh ! that’s nonsense ” returned 
 the first speaker, “ where could you get a stable largo 
 enough for such an animal ? ” “ My father used to stable 
 
 his giraffe in a wing of your father’s palace!” replied the 
 second speaker. 
 
292 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 At this witticism there was a general laugh. Then a 
 third smoker intimated that he had also a tall story to 
 tell, and craved the attention of his companions while 
 he related it. There was instant silence. The speaker 
 took two or three short sharp draws from his pipe and 
 emitting the smoke gradually from his nostrils thus 
 began:— 
 
 “ My friends, a few years ago a great part of China was 
 laid desolate by floods. My father was a shipbuilder and 
 a man of great ingenuity. His fame had reached the ears 
 of the Emperor, so when the floods came, my father was 
 sent for and consulted by His Majesty as to the best means 
 of saving the population of the submerged provinces. He 
 proposed building a ship, the carrying capacity of which 
 should exceed the combined tonnage of all the nations of 
 the earth, if the Emperor would only direct that all the 
 able-bodied men in China be placed at his services for one 
 month; with free permission to make use of the State 
 forests. His Majesty consented, and at the end of the 
 month a ship like a floating continent was constructed 
 capable of accommodating twenty millions of people. The 
 masts of the ship reached to the heavens. It was deemed 
 one of the wonders of the world. The Emperor was so 
 pleased with it that he raised my father to the rank of 
 chief master builder of His Majesty’s royal navy, and 
 bestowed upon him a young princess of the household, 
 with feet so small that it required magnifying glasses to 
 see them.” 
 
 The last words were uttered with great deliberation and 
 emphasis. Then the narrator raised himself on his elbow 
 and gazed upon his companions with a look of pleasure not 
 unmingled with a spice of contempt, as much as to say “ is 
 there any one present who can beat that ?” The allusion 
 to the small feet, the beauty spot of a Chinese lady, 
 
john Chinaman’s story. 
 
 293 
 
 seemed to tickle the fancy of most of the listeners and 
 caused a good deal of hilarity. When the laughter had 
 somewhat subsided, an old frequenter of the opium den 
 raised himself up on his elbow; and said, “Look here, 
 friends, I can tell a much better story than that you have 
 just heard.” There was profound silence in an instant, 
 and the speaker continued:—“ My father was a great 
 philosopher and was noted all over China for his wit and 
 wisdom. During the reign of the last Emperor the 
 population of China had increased to such an extent that 
 it caused serious alarm to the rulers of the land. The 
 Emperor thought to relieve the pressure of population on 
 the soil by shipping off the surplus to America and 
 Australia. But both these countries took alarm at the 
 rapid influx of Chinamen and closed their ports against 
 the Celestial. In this dilemma the Emperor sent for my 
 father and asked him what was to be done under the cir¬ 
 cumstances. It was a question not easily answered and 
 my father, asked for time to think it over. This was 
 granted and my father returned to his study to work out 
 the problem. The moment he entered, he ordered one 
 hundred pipes of opium to be prepared and had them 
 ranged in his study for immediate use. He then locked 
 himself in and went to work. He smoked and thought 
 and thought and smoked for a whole week. At last 
 an idea struck him. He had heard or read somewhere 
 that the moon was a planet capable of sustaining life, that 
 it was uninhabited and no man’s land. The only difficulty 
 was in getting there. Big with this idea he started up, 
 got together all the best carpenters in China and con¬ 
 structed a ladder that reached from the earth to the moon. 
 This he ascended, and after exploring the planet return¬ 
 ed to make his report to the Emperor. The latter was 
 
294 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 delighted at the prospect of having an entire world all to 
 himself and issued orders for his subjects to emigrate at 
 once. No one attempted to move. But the Emperor’s 
 mandate had the desired effect. All the surplus popula¬ 
 tion committed suicide rather than emigrate to the moon. 
 Since then the people have learned to exercise more self- 
 restraint. ^My father got the credit of initiating this great 
 reform. He was raised to the rank and dignity of a royal 
 councillor and the Emperor conferred upon him two 
 princesses with feet so small, that no human eye, even 
 with artificial aid, has ever been able to make out their 
 shape and form.” 
 
 Here the man who related the tall ship story jumped 
 Tip in a rage at being outdone and swore the whole story of 
 the trip to the moon was a lie. “ Where,” said he, 
 <c could bamboos be procured long enough to make a lad¬ 
 der that would reach to the moon ? ” “ Oh ! my friend ” 
 
 returned the party addressed. “ My father made his 
 ladder of the masts of your father’s ship.” This was a 
 settler and created great merriment. 
 
 By this time the smokers had passed the stage of 
 hilarity and magnificent visions, to that of intoxication and 
 and were rapidly sinking into a state where we will leave 
 them and proceed to the room occupied by the opium 
 drinkers. Here we find a crowd of eager, excited emaciat¬ 
 ed creatures round a barred window. This is where the 
 drug is weighed out and sold. As each man is served he 
 passes on into a compartment occupied by a number of 
 c harpoys. He selects one, and sits down upon it to dilute 
 his opium. The house provides him with water and a 
 -•brass cup for the purpose. When ready for use the mix¬ 
 ture has the appearance of Dublin “ XXX.” The man 
 then drinks it off, rolls over on the charpoy and is soon 
 
john Chinaman’s story. 
 
 295 
 
 beyond all earthly troubles. Opium taken in this way 
 never produces the glorious visions and hilarity which 
 Smoking the drug induces. Eating the crude opium gives 
 the least enjoyment of all the forms in which the drug is 
 consumed. It is a glorious occupation keeping an opium 
 den. (Here a voice from one of the band of dacoits called 
 out) “ Then why did you give it up, John ?” “ That’s 
 
 just what I’m coming to” was the reply. You see I 
 didn’t purchase the opium consumed in my shop through 
 the Collector. Government opium passes through too 
 many hands to be profitable. I got the drug direct from 
 the cultivator and pocketed all the advantages of trading 
 without the intervention of middlemen. I sent my wife 
 twice a month to Patna. She used to return to Calcutta 
 “ big in the family way.” Unfortunately one day, while 
 stepping from the train at Howrah platform she had a 
 miscarriage. Reid the detective was there, jumped to her 
 assistance, and, in the absence of a midwife, acted as 
 accoucher. She was safely delivered of a premature birth. 
 But it ruined my business. My house was searched and a 
 large quantity of opium found for which I could, according 
 to the terms of the indictment, give no satisfactory account. 
 I -was convicted of being in possession of contraband 
 opium, and as the case was considered an aggravated one, 
 sentenced to undergo one year’s rigorous imprisonment 
 without the option of a fine. On the day that I received 
 my sentence there was a countryman of mine convicted 
 of gambling. His punishment was fourteen days’ house 
 of correction. We were both sent to jail in the prison 
 van together. My fellow prisoner was an inverate opium 
 eater. He told me this on the way, and asked my advice 
 as to the best mode of smuggling a small supply into 
 prison. Adding that he could never live through the 
 
296 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 term of his incarceration, small as it was, without a daily 
 dose of the drug. He had at the time about his person 
 sufficient to carry him through for fourteen days, but how* 
 to get it into jail without being detected was the difficulty, 
 I advised him to make the opium into a flat cake and con¬ 
 ceal it under his tongue. I had heard of this being done 
 before with success. I was going to do it, I said, and 
 advised him to do likewise. He adopted my example. 
 But as we were being searched in the reception room, 
 when his turn came, he grew nervous and frightened and 
 in his agitation gulped down the cake of opium. 
 
 It was almost dark when we reached the prison, and 
 the jailor in consequence told the warder, after we had been 
 searched, to lock us up together for the night and take 
 our descriptive rolls and put us into prison clothes the 
 next morning. This was accordingly done. But after 
 my fellow prisoner and I had found ourselves alone 
 together in the same cell, I was horrified to learn that he 
 had swallowed his ball of opium! Neither of us knew 
 what course to pursue. I knew it was an offence to 
 attempt to smuggle opium into jail, involving a punish¬ 
 ment of three months’ rigorous imprisonment, and my 
 companion swore he would prefer dying under the influ¬ 
 ence of his favourite drug than incur this penalty. 
 So he said to me, “ Look here mate, if anything should 
 happen to me, before morning, you must try and convey 
 the news to my wife. She lives in a lane off Bentinck 
 Street.” And he gave me the full directions where she 
 was to be found and all particulars about her and his 
 circumstances. I promised to do as he desired. But at 
 the same time I tried to persuade him into the belief, that 
 as he was an habitual opium eater the quantity he had 
 inadvertently swallowed, though large, would do him no 
 
john Chinaman’s story. 
 
 297 
 
 harm. He was inclined, I could see, to this opinion also. 
 So we each wrapped ourselves up in the prison blanket 
 and went to sleep, when I awoke the next morning my 
 companion was a corpse! As quick as lightning the 
 thought struck me of taking his name and personating 
 the dead man. “If I succeed,” I said to myself, “in 
 eluding detection, I will gain my freedom in fourteen days 
 instead of fifty-two weeks. That in itself is worth risking 
 something for. Besides I will have a home to go to on my 
 release.” So I changed clothes with the deceased and 
 adopted his name and profession. He was a carpenter by 
 trade. 
 
 When the warder came to open the cell in the morning 
 I told him what had happened to my companion during 
 the night. That he had attempted to smuggle a piece of 
 opium into jail, but swallowed it by accident while he was 
 being searched. The medical examination of the body 
 bore out this statement and so the matter ended. As the 
 deceased and I were about the same age and resembled 
 one another very much in appearance, the deception was 
 never discovered. I was accordingly released at the end 
 of fourteen days. I made straight for the house of the 
 deceased, his wife was at home and expecting her hus¬ 
 band’s return. So without further ceremony I rushed 
 into her arms. Her head dropped in my bosom and she 
 began to weep and reproach me for getting into trouble, 
 I swore I would never enter a gambling house again. 
 This pacified her and she set about getting me something 
 to eat. I refrained as much as possible from talking for fear 
 of betraying myself. She noticed this but I pretended that 
 the want of opium in jail had nearly drove me mad, and 
 had so affected my memory that I could scarcely fiud out 
 my own house. “ Yes, John dear,” she returned sympathe- 
 
298 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 tically, “ and it’appears to have altered your voice some¬ 
 what also.” This remark startled me not a little. 
 
 But still I could see she had no suspicion as yet that I 
 was not her husband. All went well till bed time. We had 
 scarcely retired for the night when she jumped out of bed, 
 rushed into the street and began to cry at the top of her 
 voice, “ He’s not my John; he’s not my John; I know he’s 
 not! ” I made tracks by the back door and bolted for my 
 life, afraid of being recognised, and perhaps charged 
 with murder if I were caught. I deemed it prudent to flee 
 from British territory and never show my nose in Calcutta 
 again. 
 
 It is to these circumstances, my friends, you are in¬ 
 debted for the honour of having a Celestial amongst you 
 to-night. 
 
THE STORY OF A CITY SHARPER. 
 
 299 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 THE STORY OF A CITY SHARPER. 
 
 John Chinaman having concluded his entertaining nar¬ 
 rative in the midst of uproarious applause, the Chief 
 called upon Hurry Churn Das for the next story, who 
 thus began:— 
 
 My name is Hurry Churn Das, son of Shama Churn 
 Das. I am, as my name indicates, a Bengali Hindoo, and 
 hail from the capital of India. My governor was a man 
 of some substance. He had made his pile by retailing 
 adulterated ghee in Teretta Bazar. I was an only son. 
 The educational mania was, at the time of which I am 
 speaking, at its height. All the petty shop-keepers in the 
 city were making “ native gentlemen ” of their sons, by 
 
300 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 teaching them a little smattering of English. My father 
 followed the example of others. I was sent to school to 
 study for the bar. But, although I had a strong desire 
 to learn, and the ambition to become a “ native gentleman,” 
 I had not the faculty to acquire, or the memory to retain, 
 what I had, at the cost of much labour, acquired. This 
 was all the more aggravating, because I felt myself to be 
 the intellectual superior of most of my school fellows. 
 I could never pull through an examination with honour 
 to myself or credit to my teacher. This was a sore dis¬ 
 appointment to the vendor of “ adulterated ghee ” who had 
 looked forward to one day seeing his son a “ Congress 
 delegate” or something of that kind. My governor’s 
 chagrin was all the more intense, because the son of his 
 neighbour and rival in trade, though quite a booby com¬ 
 pared to me, had gone across the “ black water ” and 
 returned a barrister-at-law. The fellow had a good 
 memory you see and the “ gift of the gab.” But my mind 
 was cast in a different mould. Unlike most Bengalis, I 
 was an original thinker, and a great inventor, but a man 
 of few words. While the son of my dad’s rival in trade 
 was only a servile imitator of men of greater intellects 
 than his own. He even aspired to copy Tennyson, and, to 
 be just to the cad, not without achieving a certain measure 
 of success. The following is a specimen of his skill in the 
 
 A Barrister-at-Law am I, 
 
 And to my native land a glory, 
 
 I’ll tell you how I rose so high, 
 
 It is an interesting story, 
 
 Then lend me your attention, pray, 
 
 And listen well to what I say. 
 
 art of versification :— 
 
 2 ^ 4m 
 
 i 
 
THE STORY OP A CITY SHARPER. 
 
 A little boy, I playmate found 
 Among the village lanes so dusty, 
 A simple string did gird me round, 
 Whence hung a key a trifle rusty; 
 Yet ’twas that little urchin’s fate 
 To be a Congress Delegate ! 
 
 My father, honest man, amassed, 
 
 By years of careful peculation, 
 What kept me going till I’d passed 
 f/pf Through such an English education 
 
 s \^ d - Bon g alis --make their end 
 Till they their masters turn and rend. 
 
 
 Ancestral cunning, too, I had, 
 
 In Native dodges and manoeuvres, 
 
 I was a most engaging lad, 
 
 My friends of me were warm approvers 
 And so I went across the sea, 
 
 A Barrister-at-Law to be. 
 
 And over there they petted me, 
 
 And called me “ very interesting,” 
 
 I blarneyed them so well you see, 
 
 My manner there was no contesting; 
 
 “ So soft, so mild, such fine dark eyes !” 
 The ladies said, with gentle sighs. 
 
 Then, more or less equipped with law, 
 Returning, I began my mission, 
 
 To sell for fees my power of jaw, 
 
 And on the Stump to preach sedition, 
 And carefully to foster fads 
 Of ignorant, globe-trotting Rads. 
 
302 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 Oh blessed Rads, consummate fools, 
 
 The G. 0. M. who blindly follow, 
 
 What excellent and willing tools 
 
 Ye are ! Our lies how well ye swallow! 
 How difficult, by your kind aid, 
 
 The British rule in India’s made! 
 
 Continue, then, to think as now, 
 
 Your countrymen, by rice and curry 
 Are made out here real fiends somehow, 
 
 And help us still their souls to worry; 
 
 At home, obstruction is your game; 
 
 Help us out here to play the same. 
 
 We’ve learnt your clap-trap, and can spout 
 And manufacture resolutions 
 As well as you, and prate about 
 Self-Governmental institutions, 
 
 And scream and yell and jabber too, 
 
 Just like the parrots in the Zoo. 
 
 ’Tis thus we for your favour bid, 
 
 And confidently hope you’ll throw us 
 The power of sahibs to get rid 
 
 Who live among us and who know us ; 
 
 And when we oust that hated race, 
 
 Ours will be power, profit, place. 
 
 We’ll get their pay cut down, till they 
 Can’t live upon it, then succeed them, 
 
 For we can live and put away, 
 
 On what would little more than feed them; 
 (We needn’t mention that we’d make 
 The difference up by bribes we’d take.) 
 
THE STORY OP A CITY SHARPER. 
 
 303 
 
 To some small share of gain we may 
 Admit those sahibs, so demented, 
 
 Who from their kindred fall away, 
 
 With Black Supremacy contented; 
 
 To such a one from our grand feast 
 Of loot, we’ll toss a bone, poor beast. 
 
 Ah, how for my dear native land 
 My patriot bosom’s warmly panting! 
 
 (To loot her, you will understand, 
 
 Is what I mean, apart from canting) 
 
 Hasten then, hasten, happy day, 
 
 When we, instead of sahibs, hold sway. 
 
 My father had been to a meeting of “ Congress dele¬ 
 gates,” where the above poem was recited. It was receiv¬ 
 ed with tremendous applause. Several voices were heard 
 to exclaim “ Shade of Shakspeare, all hail! We have a 
 poet of our own.” My father could stand this no longer. 
 He hurried out of the Congress meeting, foaming with 
 envy and wishing the author *■ had been the son of any 
 other man.” When he returned home, he ordered me out 
 of the house and out of his presence. Like a dutiful son 
 I obeyed. I thought his passion was only momentary, 
 and would soon blow over. I was mistaken. He sent 
 straightway for a tickedar (contractor), ordered a tank of 
 immense size, to be dug, and a temple to be built at hia 
 own expense. This was done, of course, in order to pre¬ 
 vent the bulk of his ill-gotten wealth falling into my hand3 
 at his death. Protest on my part was useless. I saw my 
 patrimony melting away day by day, and had to grin and 
 bear it the best way I could. The contractor I knew to 
 be a great scoundrel. He had got my father properly into 
 
304 
 
 KNAVEKY UNMASKED. 
 
 his toils, and was determined to bleed him. He succeed¬ 
 ed. The old man died just as his pious undertaking had 
 been accomplished, without leaving behind him sufficient 
 funds to purchase the firewood necessary to cremate the 
 body. 
 
 I was now thrown completely upon my own resources 
 And like our friend and brother, the “ Baboo,” had to go 
 forth into the world and carve out an “ honourable career ” 
 for myself. Ho easy matter this to a man who had spent 
 his youth in fruitless study and missed his profession by 
 failing to pass the required examination. Even a return 
 to the occupation of my forefathers was rendered im¬ 
 possible. For was I not now a man of education, though 
 I did fail in my examination and a “ native gentleman ” 
 to boot. Retailing adulterated ghee was not therefore, 
 the occupation suited to a “ gentleman.” The thing would 
 look too ridiculous. Why it would be like Government 
 House and the little tea shanty on the opposite side of the 
 road, taking a stroll together through Old Court House 
 Street; or the Ochterlony Monument and the policeman’s 
 sentry box at the end of the Red Road, setting to partners 
 for a jig on the maidan! A native gentleman indeed, 
 retailing ghee to low caste Indians. No, no; such a thing 
 is impossible. So I began to turn my attention to the 
 possibility of living on my wits. The life of a profession¬ 
 al sharper seemed to chime in with my own inclinations. 
 Nature too, assisted by art, had cut me out for such a 
 career. My inventive faculties only required developing 
 and strengthening by exercise, and where could a better 
 training ground for the purpose be found than the place 
 of my birth, charming, delightful Calcutta! Let me see, 
 I have not yet quite forgotten my Algebra. The number 
 of knaves in a community is to the number of dupes, as 
 
THE STORY OF A CITY SHARPER. 
 
 305 
 
 the supply of a commodity is to the demand! now that is 
 the equation I have to work out. Where shall I begin ? 
 The Bank of “-— ” Be it so. 
 
 What I most particularly wanted just about this time 
 was a supply of ready money. A little enquiry amongst 
 the trading community—for is not Calcutta a great com¬ 
 mercial city ?—suggested an excellent plan of “ raising 
 the wind.” It was this : When a merchant finds himself 
 pushed for ready cash, the prevailing practice is to raise 
 the sum required by mortgaging a part of his stock-in- 
 trade rather than sell off at a sacrifice. The goods are 
 accordingly put in “bond” and the banks advance money 
 on the Bonded Warehouse receipt. This is the dustoor 
 (custom) and the safest plan for a man of my profession 
 to follow is the dustoor. When anything is done out of 
 the ordinary course of business, it excites suspicion at 
 once, especially amongst men engaged in commercial 
 pursuits. 
 
 Well, you see, I had neither money nor merchandise to 
 begin with, but I depended on my inventive genius to 
 provide the latter ; and this feat accomplished, I anticipat¬ 
 ed little difficulty in acquiring the former. This is what 
 I did. I went to the Exchange godowns and bought up 
 all the empty jaconate and mulmull packing cases I could 
 find. These cases are all tin lined. I brought them home 
 with me; had them filled with jute cuttings and brick 
 bats—regulating the weight of each to the average weight 
 of a genuine case of jaconate or midmulls. I then had the 
 tin lining carefully soldered down, the outside case relioop- 
 ed and made to look to all appearance like goods fresh 
 landed from England. This done I took my goods—one 
 hundred and fifty cases in all—to the Bonded Warehouse 
 and entered them as jaconates and midmulls. I had three 
 20 
 
306 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 or four of the cases specially prepared for inspection, 
 should this be required. Only two of my own selection 
 were opened and examined. These, of course, were found 
 correct. I paid one year’s rent and was accordingly 
 furnished with the usual receipt. This I took straight 
 
 to the-Bank and raised upon it the handsome 
 
 sum of eighty thousand rupees, less twelve per cent, in¬ 
 terest for one year! 
 
 I was now set up, and had twelve calender months to 
 run before I would be called upon to pay off the mortgage 
 on the goods ; or, as I had never intended to pay it off, 
 
 i 
 
 before the deception could be found out. 
 
 My first venture was a grand success. It is an ex¬ 
 cellent illustration of the popular saying—the man who 
 cheats risks less and gains more than the common thief. 
 
 “ The knave ceaseth to be a knave ; he passeth into the 
 fool the moment he lays himself open to detection! ” 
 That is my maxim. Any man of ordinary intellect may 
 do a bit of “ ingenuity ” occasionally, but the great art 
 of cheating—and it is a noble art, worthy of being classed 
 among the “ fine arts ”—is to cheat without peril ! The 
 gain should only be a second consideration. The master¬ 
 mind, when maturing a grand enterprise, will always 
 count the risk before the profits, and the man who un¬ 
 derstands his business will never expend great pains on 
 small gains, that is the maxim of the miser! The 
 knave should have grandeur d’cime ! 
 
 But to my subject. Banks had always a great fascina¬ 
 tion for me. There is nothing more gratifying to a man 
 of my profession than “ doing ” a bank. It is not, there¬ 
 fore, surprising that after my first success, I should be 
 found “ trying it on’’ again somewhere else. But this time 
 with a change of programme. I had noticed when there 
 
THE STORY OF A CITY SHARPER. 
 
 307 
 
 was a great rush of people at the hank, the “pass” clerk, 
 would collect from the public from twelve to twenty 
 cheques at a time, and after writing off the amounts in the 
 ledger initial them, and hand them back to the presenter 
 to take to the cashier for payment. I saw in an instant 
 the door that this lax system of doing business opened to 
 a man of my profession, and I determined to take advan¬ 
 tage of it. It was impossible, I could see, to recognise 
 the party presenting the cheque from the party receiving 
 payment. Now at this time a friend of mine employed in 
 a large mercantile firm in the city was in the habit of 
 cashing cheques for large amounts at the bank. I con¬ 
 fided to him my plans and asked for his assistance. He 
 demurred at first; but when I made it clear to him that 
 there was absolutely no risk, he consented, in considera¬ 
 tion of his standing in for a small share of the swag. 
 “Look here,” said I, when the ‘pass’ clerk calls out the 
 name of your firm I step forward and hold out my hand 
 for the pheque, take it to the cash department, and con¬ 
 vert it into the current coin of the realm, and clear out. 
 You be ‘ chiip’ till the cheques are all passed, then step 
 forward and say to the sahib, ‘ Sir, you have not returned 
 me my cheque! ’ the sahib will look at you with astonish¬ 
 ment, and you will return his stare with an expression of 
 ‘ child-like innocence.’ He will then refer to the ledger 
 and tell you that he has already passed your cheque. 
 ‘ But, sir,’ you will make answer, ‘ you have not passed it 
 to me. I have been standing here ever since you com¬ 
 menced work, waiting for it. I appeal to this gentleman 
 (you must have a witness to prove you never left the spot 
 from the time you gave in the cheque till you claim its 
 return) that I have been standing here all the time! ’ The 
 sahib will then call for the cashier, when, tableau! the 
 
308 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 discovery is made that the cheque in dispute has already 
 been paid! “To whom?” “Why, to the presenter of 
 course.” “ Yes, but who was the presenter,” queries the 
 sahib. Echo, answers who ! of course the cashier don’t 
 know, how could he be expected to know in the midst of 
 such a crush of people at such a time—it was the day 
 before the closing of the bank for the Pooja holidays! 
 
 This was a grand stroke of business. The cheque was 
 for twenty thousand rupees ! Not a bad day’s work, was 
 it ? Of course there was a great fuss made over the mat¬ 
 ter at the time, but the bank had to stump up in the end. 
 My accomplice was, like our friend and brother, the profes¬ 
 sional coiner, a man held in high estimation by his 
 employers, a very powerful and influential firm, for hon¬ 
 esty and integrity. No suspicion, therefore, ever rested 
 on him. He was a man with too good a name for that. 
 And what’s the use of a good name if you can’t turn it to 
 profitable account as occasion may offer ? # 
 
 I now found myself in possession of sufficient funds to 
 start banking, on a small scale, on my own account. If 
 was necessary that’I should have some ostensable means of 
 supporting myself in the style and position of a native 
 
 # A short time ago, three of the worst characters known to the 
 police were fonnd seated on the lee side of the Ochterlony Monu¬ 
 ment, absorbed in the pages of “ Every Man His Own Detective.” 
 The obvious inference was, that the “ sharpers ” were “ laying in 
 stock for future use !” And that, therefore, these detective revela¬ 
 tions did more harm than good. But does this argument not cut 
 both ways ? If the general public, for whose enlightenment these 
 revelations are made, do not benefit by them, that is not the fault 
 of the revelations. If there were no dupes in the world, there 
 would be no knaves, and the only way to reduce “ dupery ” is to 
 expose “ knavery.” 
 
THE STORY OF A CITY SHARPER. 
 
 309 
 
 •gentleman* otherwise inquisitive people would begin to 
 enquire “ Where that fellow got the money he is able to 
 flash about with ! ” This would go from mouth to mouth, 
 till it reached the ears of the police, and some day, when 
 somebody was “ wanted ” for doing an “ ingenuity,” I 
 would be pounced upon. So in order to avoid such a 
 contingency I set up a loan office in Mangoe Lane, and 
 advertised in the daily papers “ Money to lend on easy 
 terms.” These advertisements brought me numerous en¬ 
 quiries from needy adventurers. Then began the usual 
 game, when Greek meets G reek, of diamond cut diamond ! 
 My play was to conceal the “ knave of clubs ” under the 
 “ queen of hearts,” while I compelled my adversary to 
 show every card in his hand. Metaphor aside. On receipt 
 
 r 
 
 of an application for a loan, I despatched an agent to the 
 •applicant to enquire what security he was able to offer for 
 the sum required. An agent on such an errand is sure 
 to be courteously received, and if he plays his cards well, 
 ■it is his own fault, if he fails to wheedle a handsome 
 present, by way of bribe, of course, out of the would-be 
 borrower. The agent makes it clear that it all depends 
 upon his report whether the money will be advanced or 
 not, and if the borrower is very much in need of the 
 accommodation, he comes down handsomely. Guess his 
 astonishment, when, a day or two afterwards, he calls at 
 the loan office and is told that he cannot have the money 
 as the security is not altogether satisfactory. 
 
 # The term “ native gentleman,” “ native doctor,” “ native editor,” 
 “ native engineer,” “ native artist,” “native magistrate” and the 
 like, bear the same relation to the genuine article, as it is under¬ 
 stood by Englishmen, that pinch-beck does to pure gold. When the 
 natives, speaking of anything among themselves, use the words “ 0, 
 its only dessi” — i. e., of native or country manufacture—they mean 
 that it is only a vile imitation of the imported article. 
 
310 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 “ But your agent assured me it was all right,” pleads 
 the victim. 
 
 “ My agent, I have just discovered to my cost, has 
 been playing me false, and I have dismissed him in con¬ 
 sequence. ” 
 
 This reply usually brings the negotiation to an end. 
 Bor the dupe, whatever he may think of the matter, is 
 obliged to be chup. If he charged my agent with cheat¬ 
 ing he would have to admit that he bribed the man to 
 induce him to misrepresent facts to his employer, for the 
 purpose of inducing the latter to do that which he would 
 not otherwise do if he had not been so imposed upon. And 
 as this is an offence punishable under the Indian Penal 
 Code, no one would incur the penalty to satisfy his thirst 
 for vengeance ! Herein lay the safety of, not only myself, 
 but my tools. This is what is called par excellenee , the art 
 of cheating, because the cheater incurs no risk. On the 
 contrary, you may safely threaten your victim with the 
 provisions of the Penal Code if he attempts to open his 
 lips! 
 
 But here a change comes o’er the spirit of my dream. 
 I was startled one morning by an advertisement in the 
 papers to the effect that if I did not appear within a given 
 time and release my property in the Bonded Warehouse, 
 it would be sold in satisfaction of the claim the bank had 
 upon it. This put me in mind of the polite invitation of 
 the farmer’s wife to her ducks, “Hilly! dilly ! won’t you 
 come and be killed !” 
 
 “ Oh ! no! ” said I, “ not for Joseph ! ” So the day of 
 grace was allowed to pass without any person appearing 
 in answer to the bank’s advertisement. Then came the 
 denouement. The bank went to take delivery, when, lo ! 
 the cases were found to contain nothing but brickbats and 
 
THE STORY OF A CITY SHARPER. 
 
 311 
 
 jute cuttings! Dave Carson would have called the whole 
 thing a case of “ Jute bliat!” a commercial product for 
 which Bengal is remarkable ! 
 
 “ Den-came-dat-man-vid-de-van-eye,” as the Greeks and 
 Jews called the Police Superintendent of the Northern 
 Division, to investigate. But he could make nothing of 
 it. His enquiry was a complete failure, and his failure 
 was due to the fact that valuable time was consumed and 
 energy expended in a fruitless search for a man bearing 
 the same name that I had given into the bank. I had a 
 very different name on the signboard over my loan office 
 at this time. 
 
 Then the detectives had an innings. The Superinten¬ 
 dent was an expert in the art of deciphering handwriting ; 
 so instead of looking for Shama Churn Das, the name by 
 which I was known to the bank, he set about looking for 
 a man who wrote from the “ wrist,” employed the fingers 
 in forming the up and down strokes and brought the 
 muscles of the fore arm into play in guiding the lateral 
 movement of the pen. It w T as just such a “ hand,” the 
 detective declared, that signed Shama Churn Das, and 
 lifted eighty thousand rupees from the bank’s counter 
 fifteen months ago. And as no two men write the same 
 “ hand,”—a most recondite truth, which would have drawn 
 from natives “ Wah!” “wah!” but as the detective was 
 dealing with Englishmen they expressed their admiration 
 of the officer’s wisdom in solemn silence—the real “ Simon 
 Pure ” must turn up if the search is only persevered with. 
 “ A man may change his name a dozen of times,” con¬ 
 tinued the detective “ but his ‘ hand ’ never.” Another 
 recondite truth worth knowing! I, of course, treated the 
 whole proceeding as a farce. But I was never more mis¬ 
 taken in my life. The handwriting was traced to me, 
 
312 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 sure enough, and it was only by a piece of good luck I 
 managed to escape ! The chowkeydar of the beat, a man 
 to whom I had been not only liberal but kind, informed 
 me one evening as I was driving home that the detective 
 police were watching my business premises in Mangoe 
 Lane. I knew what this meant, so cleared out at once. I 
 made first to Chandernagore and kept in hiding there for 
 a few days. But my whereabouts were traced, and an 
 extradition warrant applied for. Hearing this I thought 
 it prudent to go further afield. So I wandered about from 
 place to place until I fell in with this brave little band of 
 dacoits and here I have remained ever since. 
 
THE STORY OP THE OJHA (DEMON EXPELLER.) 313 
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 THE STORY OF THE OJHA (DEMON EXPELLER.) 
 
 The “ City Sharper ” having made an end of his very 
 entertaining narrative, for which he was greeted with 
 Sabash ! sabash ! and other demonstrations of approval, 
 the chief called upon the Ojha (exorcist) for the next 
 story. He, accordingly began after this manner. 
 
 I am the son of a celebrated Bhutadiya (demon expeller) 
 and, as our friend and brother the Choivkeydar says, the 
 grandson of a Bhutadiya . In fact I would be justified in 
 saying that the trade of bhutadiya not only existed but 
 flourished long before the creation of the first man was 
 thought of. For, according to Jewish history, a history 
 which the Christians believe to be an inspired record of 
 facts, so it must be true, bhuts (demons) were expelled 
 from heaven when the component parts of our planet 
 
314 
 
 KNAVEKY UNMASKED. 
 
 floated tlirongli space in a state of vapour. Therefore of 
 all Hindoo institutions, that of demon expeller claims the 
 highest antiquity. So I beat our friend and brother the 
 “ Ghcitak ” hollow in this respect. 
 
 Before, however, entering into the mystery and grand 
 secrets of my profession, I may as well explain that there 
 are in Bengal two kinds of exorcists; the one expels 
 witches and the other ghosts. The latter is by far the 
 most important personage. Because when a ghost enters 
 into the person of a man or woman it is no easy matter to 
 drive him out; but a subject under the influence of a witch 
 can be cured by the recital of certain charms. When the 
 common people want to know whether a man or woman is 
 under the influence of a witch or a ghost, they burn tur¬ 
 meric under his or her nose. If the afflicted person endures 
 the fumes of the turmeric quietly it is evidence of the 
 presence of a witch; but, on the other hand, if the patient 
 is furious, shrieks and yells, and exhibits the strength of 
 two or three ordinary people, under the ordeal, a very 
 trying one, it is proof positive that a ghost of a very 
 malignant disposition has to be dealt with. This point 
 determined, the friends of the afflicted person are able to 
 send for the proper exorcist. 
 
 Of Bengali ghosts, that is, the spirits of deceased Ben¬ 
 gali men and Bengali women there are a very great variety. 
 The first and most honourable class are those called Brali- 
 madaityas (spirit of departed Brahmans). They generally 
 take up their abode in the trunk of the gayd-asvatha (Ficus 
 cordifolia) the most sacred species of the Ficus religiosa and 
 in the trunk of the holy Srijphal (Aegle Marlemos'' . Unlike 
 also other spirits the Bralimadatiyas only partake of food 
 and drink religiously pure. They never injure or frighten 
 people like common ghosts, never w r aylay benighted tra~ 
 
THE STORY OF THE OJHA. (DEMON EXPELLEE). 315 
 
 Tellers or enter into tlie bodies of living men or women. 
 Sncli pranks are beneatli tlieir dignity. But should their 
 haunts be invaded or desecrated woe betide the man, 
 woman or child who, however inadvertently, ventures near 
 their sanctum sanctorum. When offended in this way, the 
 rage of the Brahmadaitya knows no bounds and nothing 
 less than the neck of the offender will satisfy his ven¬ 
 geance. Hence a Hindoo will hardly ever venture to climb 
 the Ficus cor difolia. When a Brahman is obliged to climb 
 Aegle Marmelos for the purpose of procuring the sacred 
 trefoil so largely used in Brahmanical worship, he first 
 offers up prayers to all the gods of the Hindoo Pantheon, 
 but in particular to the Brahmadaitya who inhabits the 
 tree he is about to climb. 
 
 The next class of ghosts which is by far the most 
 numerous are commonly called bhutas. They are the 
 spirits of departed Kshatriyas, Vaisyas, and Sudras. They 
 are all reputed to be very tall and very black. They oc¬ 
 cupy trees of every description, except, of course, those in 
 which Brahmadaityas have taken up their abode. At night, 
 these bhutas prowl about the fields and outskirts of the 
 villages and frighten belated travellers, tipplers and opium 
 smokers returning to their homes. They prefer unclean to 
 clean neighbourhoods and are never seen in the vicinity of 
 a temple, building, or tope reputed holy. They go about 
 naked. They are very lascivious in their desires. They 
 make love to women in various shapes and end by taking- 
 possession of them. A woman possessed of a lover bhuta 
 is a very difficult subject to deal with. I am told that this 
 is even so among English women, as well as Bengali ma¬ 
 trons. These bhutas have a great antipathy to maidens, 
 but are very partial to married women and widows, 
 especially the latter. It is quite a common occurrence in 
 
316 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 the zenana to have the slumbers of the fair inmates dis¬ 
 turbed by a widow screaming out in her sleep : “ Oh 
 mother! a blmta is trying to take possession of me! ” 
 
 The Bengali bhuta not only eats rice, but all descriptions 
 of human food. Their favourite dish is, however, fish. 
 Consequently when a Bengali is obliged to go out for any 
 distance from his home after night he is sure to take with 
 him a piece of fish to bribe the blmta if he should encounter 
 one on the way. There are instances on record of two 
 blmtas attacking a man at one and the same time. In 
 sfLch cases the best thing to do is to throw down the fish, 
 and clear off while the blmtas are quarrelling over their 
 favourite morsel. The best way to protect one’s self 
 against a blmta , in the absence of fish, is to repeat the 
 names of some of the Hindoo gods and goddesses, espe¬ 
 cially Kali, Durga, and Siva. The last is named Bhuta- 
 nath , which being interpreted means, the god who rules 
 over the spirits of departed men and women. Another 
 mode of guarding against the attack of a blmta is to carry 
 with you after dark a rod of iron. They have a great 
 antipathy to metal, especially iron, and on this account 
 some natives of Bengal wear iron rings on their toes. 
 This is a protection against blmtas even when asleep. But 
 neither fish, flesh, nor fowl; neither the repetition of the 
 names of all the gods in the Hindoo Pantheon, nor the 
 carrying of a rod of iron, nor the wearing of a ring 
 of that metal, will prevent a blmta from frightening a 
 man or woman at a distance; they are only safeguards 
 against a ghost touching the person. 
 
 Blmtas are all male ghosts ; but there are three classes 
 of female ghosts in Bengal, called Petnies , Sankhchihnis 
 and Skandhakatas. Of the first, very little is known, ex¬ 
 cept* that they are] extremely filthy in their habits and 
 
THE STOEY OP THE OJHA (DEMON EXPELLEE). 317 
 
 person. They smell, when near, even worse than a pole¬ 
 cat. They are, like the male ghosts, very lascivious, and 
 commit the most atrocious crimes for the gratification of 
 their lust. But intercourse with them produces incurable 
 insanity. The second class of female ghosts, Sanhhchihnis 
 or Sarikhachurnis , so-called because they appear in clothes 
 as white as driven snow—take up their position after 
 nightfall at the foot of large trees. They do not move 
 about like other ghosts, are not of a malignant or revenge¬ 
 ful disposition, and only frighten people from a distance. 
 If anyone has the courage to approach them, they melt 
 away and completely disappear. 
 
 The third and last class of female ghosts, Skandhakatas, 
 so-called from the circumstances that their heads have 
 been cut off from above their shoulders—are the most 
 dreaded by the people of all the evil spirits in the land. 
 They inhabit low, moist and swampy neighbourhoods and 
 wander about in the dead of night. They have a strange 
 mode of locomotion. The headless trunk is bent into the 
 form of a cart wheel, and in this position they roll along 
 the ground. 
 
 But woe be to the unfortunate individual that crosses 
 their path after dark ! 
 
 Having given you a true, full, and correct account of 
 the ghosts of Bengal—I mean, of course, the Hindoo 
 ghosts, I will now proceed to show how, like the magicians 
 of old, I make the spirits of the invisible world obedient 
 to my will. Suppose a woman in a distant village “shadow 
 smitten ”—that is, that the shadow of some spirit has fall¬ 
 en upon her. While in this state she entertains the 
 wildest and most extravagant fancies. She imagines her¬ 
 self the wife of a spirit husband and takes up her position 
 under the tree in which her invisible spouse is believed to 
 
318 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 reside. Here slie sweeps a circle quite clean, prepares a 
 flower bed, constructs a chula , cooks rice and fisli and makes 
 every possible preparation for entertaining ber spirit lord, 
 while her friends and neighbours look on with supersti¬ 
 tious awe ! This continues perhaps for a day or two, and 
 if there is no apparent sign of the woman recovering from 
 her delusion the family guru (priest) is consulted. He 
 pronounces the woman “ possessed ” and the ojha is sent 
 for. 
 
 The moment the “ shadow smitten woman ” feels the 
 breath of the exorcist—for his first act is to breathe upon 
 her with a noise like the hissing of a serpent—she utters 
 a wild scream and falls on the ground face downwards. 
 The ojha squats down beside her and shouts the following 
 mantras: 
 
 Dhula sattam, madhu pat t am, ladhula karam sar; a si 
 hajar , kote bandam , jeis hajar lar. 
 
 Standing up the ojha takes some holy water from a bam¬ 
 boo and sprinkles his patient. She immediately goes off 
 into convulsions and commences to froth at the mouth. 
 The ghost doctor continues the mantras : — Je pathe yana 
 amuk chedede kes , Bain, yogini, pret, bhut, Bao, batas, deva, 
 dut, Kaharo naiko nabaleo. Kar djna ? Kanadar Kama - 
 Khya hddijhi-chander djnd. Siggir lag, lag, lay. 
 
 This ended the patient becomes more calm and the ojha 
 begins to question, not the woman remember, but, the 
 spirit within her. 
 
 Ojha: “ In the name of the great Mahadeva I demand 
 to know who you are ? ” 
 
 Spirit: “I am a bhut a and have taken up my abode in 
 this tree.” 
 
 Ojha: “ Why have you left your abode to annoy this 
 woman.” 
 
THE STORY OF THE OJHA (DEMON EXPELLER). 319 
 
 Spirit: “ The great Mahadeva lias given me this wo¬ 
 man as a companion. 
 
 Ojlna: “You must instantly leave her.” 
 
 Spirit: “ I decline to do so.” 
 
 Ojha: “ I will compel yon to leave her this instant. But 
 stay, whose body did you animate before you became a 
 bhuta ? ” 
 
 Spirit: “ That is one of the secrets of the spirit world 
 which cannot be revealed.” 
 
 Ojha : “ How long have you been a bhuta ?” 
 
 Spirit: “We have no means of measuring time in the 
 spirit world. But I have been a bhuta since the year of 
 the great famine of 1780. I was one of the victims of that 
 dire calamity.” 
 
 Ojha: “ Where did you reside before you took up your 
 abode in this palmyra tree P It is only ten years old.” 
 
 Spirit: “I lived in the large mangoe tree that stood on 
 the east of the village tank till it was destroyed by a 
 storm. I then shifted my quarters to this palmyra tree.” 
 
 Ojha: “ How long do you propose to remain in this 
 neighbourhood ? ” 
 
 Spirit: “ Till my spouse becomes a bhuta like myself.” 
 Ojha : “ How long will that be ? ” 
 
 Spirit: “ That is another of the secrets of the spirit 
 world which we are not permitted to divulge.” 
 
 Ojha : “In the meantime I must request you to leave 
 this woman.” 
 
 Spirit: “By what authority do you command me to do 
 your bidding P ” 
 
 Ojha : “ By the authority of the great Mahadeva whom 
 all bhutas are bound to obey.” 
 
 Spirit .* “ And if I refnse ? 
 
 Ojha : “ I will resort to force.” 
 
 
320 
 
 KNAVEEY UNMASKED. 
 
 Spirit: “Do your worst. Here I remain till I see a 
 more formidable antagonist.” 
 
 Here the ojlm is supposed to work himself into a terrible 
 passion. He blows and hisses like a serpent. His eyes 
 start from their sockets, and the very hair of his head rises 
 and falls like the quills of an angry porcupine. Then mut¬ 
 tering some mantras the ojha belabours the unfortunate 
 woman with a stick till she, or rather the spirit within 
 her, howls and shrieks with pain, while her friends and 
 neighbours, in terror and amazement, stand trembling with 
 superstitious fear. At last the woman falls exhausted on 
 the floor, and the ojha takes a piece of root from a small 
 box, wraps it up in a pan leaf and forces it down her throat. 
 The woman remains unconscious for some hours. When 
 she recovers she is no longer “ shadow smitten ”; the 
 spirit has taken its departure. But only to play the same 
 game over again with some other woman in the neighbour¬ 
 hood. The ojha receives his reward—a gift of money and. 
 new clothes—and he also takes his leave and disappears. 
 
 So you see, my friends, the profession of an ojha is by 
 no means a bad business. (Here a voice from the com¬ 
 pany calls out) “ Why did yon give it up ojha ?” “ That’s 
 
 just what I’m coming to ” replied the ojha. On the last 
 occasion of my exorcising a “ shadow smitten ” woman—by 
 the way, this time a married matron—the husband, who 
 was of a very jealous disposition, had some suspicion that 
 the spirit that “ overshadowed ” his wife was not that of 
 a dead but a living lover. So when it came to ex¬ 
 pulsion by force he insisted that I should lay it on 
 heavy. I did so, with the result that his wife died. The 
 police and the English magistrate got wind of it, held an 
 inquest on the body and from the evidence of the medical 
 officer, also an Englishman, brought in a verdict of wilful 
 
THE STORY OP THE OJHA (DEMON EXrELLER). 321 
 
 murder against your humble servant and issued a warrant 
 for his arrest. I, of course, made myself scarce, and, curs¬ 
 ing the British Government and its damnable institutions, 
 I shook the dust off my feet in the face of my enemies and 
 crossed the border into my native territory. So here I am 
 safe and sound in wind and limb and a member of a 
 celebrated gang of dacoits. Hurra! Hurra! Hurra! 
 
 21 
 
322 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 THE STORY OF A KOORD: A ROMANCE IN REAL 
 
 LIFE. 
 
 When the chief saw that the Ojha had made an end of 
 
 4 
 
 liis interesting and anmsing narrative which was listened 
 to with great attention and loudly applauded when con¬ 
 cluded, he called upon Nasr-u-deen to continue the 
 entertainment with an account of his adventures before 
 becoming a dacoit. Whereupon Nasr-u-deen, in obedience 
 to his Chief’s command, right cheerfully thus began:— 
 
 I am a descendant of one of the celebrated Koord 
 families which Shah Abbas the Great induced about the 
 beginning of the seventeenth century to migrate from 
 Koordestan, on the Turkish frontier, and settle along the 
 northern boundary of Persia, with view of protecting it 
 
THE STORY OF A IvOORD : A ROMANCE IN REAL LIFE. 323 
 
 from Turkman inroads, on tlie principle, in fact, “ of set¬ 
 ting a thief to catch a thief.” This policy succeeded well 
 enough so long as the Persian rulers were able to control 
 the Koords, (a name, which being interpreted, means 
 son of a thief ”) but when these came to make common 
 cause with the Turkmans, which they did, as they grew 
 in number and power, the old system of plundering, and 
 slave hunting, began again, and has lasted, with hardly 
 an interval, until the present day, and will continue to 
 last, unless the conditions and circumstances of the 
 people alter, for ever. 
 
 I will pass over the early years of my life, as these con¬ 
 tain little in the way of adventure, that has not been told 
 •over and over again. I was in my twentieth year when I 
 was first called upon to join a raiding expedition into 
 Persia. The venture turned out a grand success. We 
 returned laden with spoil in the shape of horses, cows, 
 sheep, and young men and maidens. Our custom in re¬ 
 gard to the latter was this. After the headmen of my 
 tribe had made a selection for themselves of the youth 
 and beauty of the captives, the remainder were sold in the 
 slave market and the proceeds divided amongst the 
 raiders. I fell desperately in love with one of the young 
 captives, and determined, at all costs, she should neither 
 be brought to the hammer, nor become the property of any 
 •of our chiefs. I had been kind to her on the road and 
 she seemed to cling to me instinctively for protection « 
 ^amongst our people, one of the gieatest dimes that a man 
 can commit is to violate the code of honour that exists in 
 regard to the distribution of property acquired by violence. 
 It had to be all surrendered for the purpose of being dis¬ 
 posed of to the best advantage for the common good of 
 the community. I therefore knew that my fair Persian 
 
324 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 and I would be separated tlie moment we reached our 
 villa°*e. So the first night after we had crossed the 
 Persian border when all the camp was buried in slumber, 
 
 I cleared off: with my prize. How delighted the poor 
 little thing was when she thought herself free! We 
 shaped our course towards the Attrek Valley, where some 
 of my tribe had settled down to quiet and peaceful occupa¬ 
 tions, intending to follow their example. But fate was 
 against us. We had been about a fortnight on the road 
 when we encountered a Russian military expedition mov¬ 
 ing in the direction of Khiva. I was arrested as a spy, 
 and separated from the joy of my heart. The fair Persian 
 was taken before the commander of the expedition, and 
 through sheer fright, revealed every thing. This led to 
 my release, but the girl for whose sake I would have 
 walked knee deep in blood, was sent under escort to the 
 Shah of Persia with a letter detailing the circumstances 
 under which she was discovered and her own account of 
 the affair. I learned afterwards that the Russian officials 
 had a very different object in view in restoring the young 
 Persian to her people than that of righting her wrongs. 
 Rumours had reached Persia of the presence of a Russian 
 expedition on the route between Krasnovodsk and Khiva. 
 It was necessary under these circumstances to mislead 
 Persia as to the real object of the expedition. The news 
 of the Russian movement might reach British India 
 through Persia, get into the English papers, and raise 
 disagreeable and inconvenient questions for St. Peters- 
 burgh to answer, in the House of Commons. The clever 
 and infamous General in command of the Russian expedi¬ 
 tion at once saw his way out of the difficulty in the 
 restoration of the little Persian captive. He wrote to the 
 Shah that the girl was found in the possession of a Koord 
 
THE STORY OP A KOORD : A ROMANCE IN REAL LIFE. 325 
 
 between Kiasnovodsk and Kliiva by a Scientific exploring 
 party from St. Petersburgh ! and that after hearing her 
 story he decided upon restoring the maiden to her country 
 and people. The General then went on to give a descrip¬ 
 tion of the wild and waterless waste his party was then 
 engaged in exploring for purely scientific purposes. The 
 girl s escort also gave out in every town and village it 
 passed through that it formed part of a Russian scientific 
 exploring party. This served, for the time being, to quiet 
 the fears of the people and mask the advance of the army 
 on Khiva. 
 
 The day after the departure of the fair Persian the 
 Russian General sent for me and questioned me regarding 
 my country and people, the Merv Turkmans and other 
 tribes. I was able to give him a good deal of information 
 •on these subjects, as the tribe to which I belonged led, 
 for the most part, a nomad life, at which he was immense¬ 
 ly pleased. When I had finished he told me it had 
 been his intention to have made me over to the Persian 
 authorities for execution on a charge of raiding and 
 kidnapping; but as I could be useful to him on his march 
 to Merv, after the fall and annexation of Khiva, he would 
 pardon me and place me on the staff of the intelligence 
 department of his army. I knew it would be useless for 
 me to refuse this offer, circumstanced as I then was, so I 
 consented, with every appearance of satisfaction, and pro¬ 
 mised to be true and loyal to the Russian cause, so long 
 as I ate the salt of the stranger. But the thought of how 
 I had been cruelly parted from the fair Persian exercised 
 my thoughts a good deal and my heart yearned for ven¬ 
 geance. However, I had no opportunity of betraying my 
 enemy and the foe of my country with any chance of 
 success, just then, so, to save my own neck, I continued to 
 
326 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 work with apparent zeal, and gained the General’s con¬ 
 fidence by bringing in correct information. 
 
 The advance on Khiva was slow and weary work. The 
 entire route from Krasnovodsk is a complete wilderness* 
 and almost devoid of water. For a long time I could not 
 understand why Russia wanted to annex this perfectly 
 useless tract of land and desert. The problem, however* 
 was not long in solving itself. After the treaty extorted 
 from the Khivan Khan had been signed, a forward move¬ 
 ment on Merv commenced immediately. I could then see 
 the object of Russia in annexing territory comparatively 
 worthless in itself, it secured access to those strategic 
 lines across the steppe, which were essential to the attain¬ 
 ment, sooner or later, of that goal, which her statesmen 
 never lose sight of—a secure position in Central Asia. It 
 forms the only connecting link between the Caspian and 
 the Oxus. 
 
 The Russian movement in the direction of Merv met 
 with very little opposition till it reached Kizil Arvat, a 
 strong position of the Tekke tribes. Here General Loma¬ 
 kin appeared upon the scene as the supreme authority. 
 He issued a magniloquent circular to the Turkman Chiefs, 
 inviting them to come in and pay their respects to him as. 
 tlie representative of the “ Great Sovereign.” This invita¬ 
 tion was answered by six thousand Tekkes bearing down 
 upon the Russian column, and nearly exterminating it to a 
 man. The Russians after their defeat at Kizil Arvat 
 retired to the cantonment of Petro Alexandrovsk to await 
 reinforcements from St. Petersburgh. In the meantime- 
 an arrangement was arrived at between the Tekke chiefs 
 and the Shah of Persia. By it the Merv Turkmans de¬ 
 clared their allegiance to Persia. They engaged on their 
 part that raids on Persian territory should be discon- 
 
THE STORY OF A KOOED : A ROMANCE IN REAL LIFE. 327 
 
 tinned; that the Persian flag should be hoisted, at Mery, 
 and that a Persian representative should reside there; 
 that one hundred hostages composed of men of position 
 from the four divisions of the tribes, should reside at 
 Meshed in Persia, but without their families; and that a 
 body of one thousand horsemen should be placed at the 
 service of the Shah’s Government; these horsemen to 
 provide their own horses and arms, and to be under the 
 command of their own chiefs, but to be paid by the Shah, 
 and to be employed in any part of Persia where their 
 services might be required. On their side the Persian 
 Government recognised the Merv Turkmans as Persian sub¬ 
 jects, promising protection and favorable treatment; they 
 agreed to defray the expenses of the hostages sent to 
 Meshed at an estimated cost of about six thousand tomans 
 
 t 
 
 a year; they also undertook to pay the horsemen furnished 
 by the tribes for service in Persia at the same rate as that 
 allowed by the government to the Khorassan irregular 
 horse, which would amount annually to over thirty thou¬ 
 sand tomans. In addition they granted permission for one 
 thousand families of Merv Tekke Turkmans to occupy 
 Old Saraks and the adjacent lands on the Tejmal', the 
 name by which the Hurru Road comes to be known, as it 
 flows northward through Turkman territory. The Shah 
 gave a firman to the Turkman chiefs, stating in general 
 terms that they had always been, and now are, subjects 
 of Persia; that all disloyal acts committed by them in 
 past years are condoned, and that in consideration of their 
 now engaging to act as obedient and faithful subjects, 
 His Majesty assures them of his protection and favour. 
 
 This compact with the Tekke Turkmans, which also 
 included the Koords, was joyous news to me. I imme¬ 
 diately abandoned the Russian cause and transferred my 
 
328 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 services to Persia. My reasons for taking this step are 
 these : I believed the Russian cause had received its death 
 blow at Kizil Arvat; and service in Persia might lead 
 to an interview with the girl, the hated Muscovite had 
 parted me from. My knowledge of Russia’s intentions 
 regarding Merv was of considerable importance to the 
 Turkman chiefs. I advised them to collect the Akhal 
 tribes scattered along the line of the Attrek and concentrate 
 them in the neighbourhood of Kizil Arvat which is a 
 strong position and favourable for defence, in the event of 
 the Russian column returning to the attack. The chiefs 
 approved of the suggestion and immediately set about 
 fixing a rallying point for the tribes in case of necessity. 
 These precautions were not taken a moment too soon. 
 General Lamakin returned to the attack on Kizil Arvat, 
 reinforced by a strong brigade under Colonel Grotenhelm. 
 The Tekke Turkmans did not wait for the attack. They 
 surprised some two thousand Russians guarding six thou¬ 
 sand camels collected for the expedition and succeeded in 
 carrying off most of the animals. They were pursued by 
 strong reinforcements and overtaken, a battle ensued. 
 The Tekkes dismounted, and occupied a strong position 
 on the brow of a hill, where they made a parapet of the 
 kneeling camels, from behind which they opened fire on 
 the enemy with such effect as to stop their further advance. 
 The fight lasted till night, when both parties retreated in 
 opposite directions, the Muscovites finding it too hazar¬ 
 dous to follow an enemy who had suddenly and unexpect¬ 
 edly developed such remarkable tactics. The defeated 
 Russians came to the conclusion that the Tekkes were not 
 only armed with English rifles but commanded by British 
 officers, and in consequence retired to the cantonment of 
 Petro Alexandrovsk opposite Khiva. All further opera- 
 
THE STORY OF A KOORD : A ROMANCE IN REAL LIFE. 329 
 
 tions in the direction of Merv were suspended, for this 
 season, pending instructions from St. Petersburgh. 
 
 With this move most of the Tekke tribes returned to 
 their homes, while I took advantage of the temporary 
 cessation of hostilities to make another bid for the fair 
 Persian. I induced a brother tribes-man to accompany me 
 to her village. We reached the spot without accident or 
 molestation. But on seizing the girl in the dead of night 
 an alarm was raised, and we were surrounded and made 
 prisoners ; not, however, before half a dozen of men had 
 fallen to our spears. The villagers bound us with cords 
 and kept us in duress till the arrival of the police. We 
 were then charged with being members of an unlawful 
 assembly for the purpose of raiding in Persian territory. 
 The villagers in their evidence before the magistrate 
 swore that we belonged to a band of marauders that had 
 made their escape when the alarm was raised, and that 
 they only succeeded in securing two of the number. I 
 saw the seriousness of this charge in an instant. It would 
 at once be put down as a breach of faith on the part of 
 the Turkmans and probably lead to the withdrawal of the 
 firman granted by the Shah at a critical period. I tried 
 to explain matters to the magistrate before whom the case 
 was heard, but the evidence against me was too strong for 
 my bare statement to have any effect. 
 
 After one or two remands it was finally decided that we 
 should be sent to the Persian capital under a strong escort 
 for execution; for raiding in Persian territory was, and 
 still is, punishable with death. Fortunately my escort 
 were all followers of the Prophet and my morning, mid¬ 
 day, and evening devotions were never interfered with. I 
 was always released from my bonds on such occasions. 
 One evening at sundown while both prisoners and escort 
 
330 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 were engaged at prayers on tlie bank of a large tank 
 I saw a liandee floating on tlie water, mouth downwards. 
 It flashed upon me in an instant that I might be able to 
 effect my escape by making use of the handee, so jumping 
 up from my devotions I plunged into the tank, dived out 
 to where the earthen vessel was floating, rose gradually 
 beneath it and placed it over my head. The tank, which 
 was very deep, was dragged in the vicinity of the spot 
 where I had plunged in but failing to rescue or recover 
 the body the search was abandoned when night had set 
 in. The officer believing I had committed suicide pro¬ 
 ceeded on his march towards the capital with my fellow 
 prisoner. I remained in the tank till the night was far 
 advanced, and then succeeded in making good my escape. 
 About a mile from where I had parted with my escort I 
 met a Persian peasant in a lonely part of the road. I 
 tried to induce him to exchange clothes with me. He re¬ 
 fused, and I strangled him on the spot, took possession of 
 his garments and travelled in disguise through Persia to. 
 Afghanistan. Arriving at Cabul I enlisted as a soldier 
 in the Ameer’s bodyguard. I used to amuse and entertain 
 my comrades with accounts of my adventures with the 
 Russians; and soon grew to be very popular in the garri¬ 
 son. 
 
 I had scarcely been two years in the service of the 
 Ameer when a Russian Mission arrived at Cabnl. I was 
 one of the guard of honour sent out to conduct them ta 
 the palace. Gfuess my surprise at recognising amongst 
 the Mission two of the officers I had served in the expedi¬ 
 tion against the Tekke Turkmans ! I fell ill at once, and 
 had to be sent to hospital, not shamming, mind you, but 
 really ill—incapacitated through sheer funk ! I knew that 
 if I had been recognized by the Russian officers I would 
 
THE STORY OF A KOORD : A ROMANCE IN REAL LIFE. 331 
 
 have been claimed and instantly banded over to their 
 tender mercies. I therefore determined to keep out of 
 harm’s way as much as possible. In fact, to remain in 
 hospital till the mission had departed. But my plans 
 were very soon upset. It appears that some of the many 
 questions the mission had come to discuss with the Ameer 
 were Persia’s authority over the Kurdish frontier tribes 
 and the possibility of converting them into Russian sol¬ 
 diers. Would they fight against the Turcomans ? The 
 Koords are unquestionably the most independent and 
 manliest race upon the northern frontier of Persia, and 
 have for centuries waged a fairly balanced border warfare 
 with the tribes that were now opposed to Russia. They 
 would, therefore, if they could be prevailed upon to rally 
 round the Russian standard, prove valuable auxiliaries in 
 the then contemplated operations against the Turcomans. 
 
 Then again the scientific members of the mission want¬ 
 ed to know something of Khorasan, its mineral resources, 
 its reputed coal fields, copper, lead, silver, gold, and 
 turquoise mines. The latter the only turquoise mines in 
 the world. 
 
 These enquiries naturally led to the discovery that 
 there was a Koord soldier in the Ameer’s bodyguard, a 
 sharp intelligent cove, who would be able to throw some, 
 light on the subjects referred to. I was consequently 
 ordered to be placed at the disposal of the Russians I 
 But finding I was in hospital at the time, it was decided 
 to postpone the investigation till I had recovered. This 
 information was communicated to me by the medical 
 officer. He said I had to get well quick as I was parti¬ 
 cularly wanted by the Ameer’s guests at the palace. This 
 news put me in a terrible funk. That night I.bolted from 
 hospital and never drew rein till I was safe in British 
 
332 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 territory. Here it was necessary for me to do something 
 for a living. I couldn’t work, so I became a mulvi and 
 picked up a living by going from mosque to mosque. In 
 this way I reached the Capital of India, where I first 
 attracted the notice of the police. I was taken for, or 
 ratjier mistaken for, a Russian spy ! and detectives were 
 dodging my steps for weeks before I knew anything 
 about it. When I did make the discovery I tried to get 
 away from Calcutta, but was arrested at Howrah as I was 
 getting into the train on my way to Patna. 1 was first 
 taken before the Superintendent of the Dective Depart¬ 
 ment who recorded my statement and put me through a 
 severe cross-examination. After this I was taken to the 
 Foreign Office, where I underwent another examination, 
 my statements being tested by frequent references to a 
 large sheet map that hung against the wall. Then a con¬ 
 sultation was held at which it was decided that I was no 
 spy but a harmless individual, more afraid of the Russians 
 
 than my inquisitors. # So I was set at liberty with a 
 
 * 
 
 present of money, by way of compensation for the trouble 
 I had been put to. But still I was not happy, I could not 
 get rid of the uncomfortable feeling that detectives were 
 still dodging my steps. So I resolved to quit British terri¬ 
 tory. The civilisation of the English didn’t suit my 
 notions of liberty. I wandered about from one native 
 state to another until at last I stumbled upon the only com¬ 
 munity of free people I had met since I quitted my own 
 native land, this honourable band of dacoits. Here I live 
 amongst congenial spirits and pass my days, and nights 
 too—for nights must have been especially made for free 
 lances such as we are—in congenial employment! 
 
 Bravo! Hurra! from the whole strength of the company. 
 
 * Fact. 
 
CONCLUDING STORY—A BIG DACOITY. 
 
 333 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 CONCLUDING STORY—A BIG DACOITY. 
 
 The Koord having finished his interesting narrative 
 amid great applause, the chief gave notice, now that every 
 man of the band had related his history, preparations 
 would be made for a fresh adventure. A council of war 
 was called to deliberate and arrange the details of the 
 expedition. 
 
 The result was a proposal to surprise a frontier village 
 in which some reputed rich traders resided. The only 
 difficulty in the w ay, and it appeared at first sight a rather 
 formidable one, was a strong guard of frontier police. This 
 obstacle, it wes evident to the meanest intellect, would 
 have to be overcome, iu some way or other, in order to 
 insure the success of the adventure. My ingenuity w r aa 
 
334 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 consequently called into requisition. I solicited, and ob¬ 
 tained time to tbink tlie matter over. Here is the result 
 of my deliberations : I proposed that the ghatuk be com¬ 
 missioned to proceed to the village adjoining tlie one we 
 intended to plunder, and hunt up a marriageable girl for 
 a respectable Brahmin in easy circumstances. When a 
 suitable damsel was found the match-maker would proceed 
 in accordance with the custom of the country to negociate 
 a marriage. This settled, the services of the astrologer 
 would be called into requisition and an auspicious day 
 fixed for the ceremony. The “Mock Rajah ” who is the 
 best looking man of our band will act as bridegroom. 
 The marriage ceremony must be made an imposing affair. 
 All the frontier police are to be invited, and the guests 
 liberally supplied with intoxicants, both for drinking and 
 smoking. “ If this proposal meet with general approval,” 
 said I, “ I will guarantee the success of the expedition.” 
 
 Here the Baboo begged to j3ropose an amendment and 
 permission being granted by the chief, he said: “ Gentle¬ 
 men, though I cannot but admire the ingenuity of the plan 
 proposed by the last speaker to defeat the police, I never¬ 
 theless think I have something better to offer. What do 
 you think of this. I will write an anonymous letter to 
 the Head Constable setting forth that a village about two 
 miles away from the one we propose to plunder will be 
 visited by dacoits on the night of our expedition. This 
 will draw off the police to the threatened point of attack 
 and we can in that case carry through our plans without 
 fear of opposition. The chief in reply pointed out that 
 the Baboo’s scheme was a very old one and the police were 
 not likely to be deceived by it. My proposal was then 
 put to the vote and carried nem con. “ It had,” the chief 
 explained, “ the charm of novelty to recommend it. 5 
 
CONCLUDING STORY—A BIG DACOITY. 
 
 335 
 
 Besides, lie said, there is something so romantic and ex¬ 
 citing iu the idea of a marriage festival preceding and 
 actually being made subservient to the carrying out of a 
 big dacoity, like the one contemplated. Why, it puts one 
 in mind of the magnificent ball to which all the youth and 
 beauty of Paris were treated by the English Officers, the 
 night before the battle of Waterloo was fought! The 
 French were handsomely treated by their enemies before 
 being licked. We cannot do better than follow so good 
 an example, and feast our intended victims before betray¬ 
 ing them. 
 
 This settled the matter in dispute. The following 
 morning the ghatak started on his mission. He was suc¬ 
 cessful, and the best of the joke is that the bride’s people 
 thought they were playing off a double game on the bride¬ 
 groom, and actually bribed the gliatak to keep the matter 
 a profound secret. The bridegroom was represented, as I 
 have already stated, to be a high caste Brahmin in good 
 circumstances, while the bride’s people, though well to do 
 in a worldly sense, were not of the same priestly caste. 
 
 The ghatak returned to report progress to his chief. 
 Two days afterwards a deputation on behalf of the bride¬ 
 groom carried presents to the bride elect. The guests 
 were received with every demonstration of joy and delight, 
 and the Vagdam , or betrothal, was consummated. As 
 the parents of the bride were anxious that the marriage 
 should be celebrated] without delay, the astrologer who 
 accompanied the deputation, was requested to fix a day 
 for the purpose. The astrologer accordingly set to work 
 at once, and after a few hours study and calculation fixed 
 upon the 24th of Phalgun , a day, he declared to be emi¬ 
 nently auspicious, as the solar, lunar, planetary, and 
 stellar influences on that day were particularly benignant. 
 
336 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 This matter settled, the deputation returned to their cave 
 to prepare for the coming event. In the meantime the 
 hand of free-booters amused themselves at the expense of 
 the would-be-bridegroom. They went through the process 
 of anointing his lady with oil and turmeric , as is customary 
 among the Hindoos in real marriages. Then they got up 
 ciundhabhojana or bachelors’ dinners in his honour. 
 Amongst the Hindoos these dinners are given to the near 
 relations of the bridegroom and are so termed from the 
 circumstances that they are the last dinners of which he 
 will partake, while in a state of bachelorhood. They are 
 made the occasion of a great deal of fun and rejoicing. 
 The glmtak takes up his position by the side of the bride¬ 
 groom and descants witty and eloquently on the nameless 
 graces of the bride elect, to the infinite amusement of the 
 guests. The forthcoming marriage is compared to the 
 union of Madhava and Malati in the Sanskrit play of that 
 name. The bridegroom is dressed up in gaudy clothes, 
 crowned with a tinsel crown, and shoes embroidered with 
 silver placed on lifs feet. Thus attired, he is seated in a 
 eliaturdola (marriage palki) borrowed for the occasion from 
 one of the state officials and carried three times, round the 
 village—but as there was no village near, the robbers’ 
 cave, followed by the whole band of dacoits carrying 
 rdngmasals or Bengal lights, Us they are called by Euro¬ 
 peans, and shouting at the top of their voice ulu ! ulu ! 
 ulu! This procession, which the chief called a “ dress 
 rehearsal ” was deemed almost perfect, all that was want¬ 
 ed to complete the sj:>ectacle was a native band, and this 
 want the chief promised to supply. A band of musicians 
 was consequently engaged for the occasion, consisting of 
 jagojhampa , four dliols , two kansis , two sanais , and one set 
 of rausanchaukis. This popular band which had officiated 
 
CONCLUDING STORY—-A BIG DACOITY. 
 
 337 
 
 at all the marriages in the district since the memory of 
 the oldest inhabitant, was considered equal to six-finger 
 Jimmey’s celebrated band in Calcutta. Its liquid melody 
 and delicious harmony not only soothed the savage breast, 
 it actually fascinated all who heard it. 
 
 At last the auspicious twenty-fourth of Phalgun ar¬ 
 rived. The bride’s people had made every preparation 
 for the marriage, every person of note for miles round, 
 including the frontier and village police, were invited to 
 the wedding festival and nuptial ceremony. All the 
 guests were seated on satmnjis under a canvas canopy on 
 the tiptoe of expectation, when the sound of music and the 
 glare of torches denoting the approach of the bridegroom’s 
 party were seen and heard in the distance. The father of 
 the bride accompanied by a few male relations went out 
 to meet his intended son-in-law, whom he conducted to 
 the centre of the canvas canopy where he was soon sur¬ 
 rounded by numerous enquiring friends. Hookahs were 
 prepared, lit, and handed round. And in a short time 
 every one was engaged talking and smoking. The guests 
 were thus employed wdien the family priest announced 
 that the auspicious hour, when the bride and bridegroom 
 were to become man and wife, had arrived, an hour 
 selected by the famous astrologer when the sun, moon, 
 and stars, shed their most benign influence on the happy 
 pair. Whereupon the bride’s father came forth and with 
 folded hands and a piece of cloth round his neck in token 
 of humility and submission to the will of fate, stood in 
 the midst of the assembly and said “ Sirs, as the layna 
 (propitious moment) has arrived, with the consent of all 
 my caste people here assembled, I will proceed to celebrate 
 the marriage of my daughter Alanga (graceful) to Gora- 
 manik ” (fair diamond) for that was the name the mock 
 22 
 
338 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 Rajah had assumed for the occasion. Several voices cried 
 out—“ We have no objection, and may the blessing of 
 Prajapati descend on the happy pair.” With this began 
 the ceremony of striachara , which usually takes place in 
 the zenana, or inner courtyard of Hindoo houses, but on 
 the present occasion, a large plot of ground had been 
 fenced in with matting for the purpose. There was a 
 raised platform in the centre, at the four corners of which 
 stood- four plantain trees, round which threads were pass¬ 
 ed. Here the bridegroom took his stand. The bride was 
 next brought in and in the midst of rejoicing and shouts 
 of ulu ! ulu ! ulu ! was whirled round the bridegroom and 
 the plantain trees seven times. This done barace was 
 performed. That is a brass plate was filled with fruit and 
 vegetables and carried to the bridegroom who touched 
 them with his forehead, while the family priest recited 
 holy mantras. 
 
 This concluded the marriage ceremony, and the bride’s 
 father now set to work to provide the guests with refresh¬ 
 ments. It was no easy task considering the number 
 present; but it was satisfactorily performed for all that. 
 By midnight all the women within the enclosure were 
 enjoying themselves to the height of their bent, and sing¬ 
 ing the praises of the bride, while the men outside, more 
 especially the police, were both happy and glorious, o’er 
 all the ills of life victorious. The bang indulged in after 
 a sumptuous dinner had done its work! and now began to 
 slip away one by one, all the friends who had accompanied 
 the bridegroom to the festive scene, to join their com¬ 
 panions in the doomed village. The bridegroom was the 
 last to slink away. We all met as previously arranged 
 in a mangoe tope to the south of the village, and bore 
 down upon the deserted houses in full strength. Accus- 
 
CONCLUDING STORY—A BIG DACOITY. 
 
 339 
 
 tomed, as we were to this kind of work, we had no 
 difficulty in finding ont the secret places where the trea¬ 
 sure was concealed, and half an hour sufficed to clear out 
 the entire village. 
 
 While returning to our cave in the mountains laden 
 with spoil we encountered a military guard escorting 
 government revenue to the district treasury. The temp¬ 
 tation was too great to be resisted. Our band out-num¬ 
 bered the escort—two to one, and although we had no 
 guns with us, we were all otherwise well provided for a 
 stiff tussle at close quarters. So after a short consultation 
 it was decided to loot the treasure. We had hoped that 
 the escort on seeing our numbers would yield up its 
 charge without a struggle. In this we were mistaken. 
 The order to stand and deliver was answered by a volley 
 from the escort. Three of our numbers fell, two, includ¬ 
 ing our brave chief mortally wounded, and one, myself, 
 maimed. Before the smoke had cleared away the escort had 
 drawn the hackeries conveying the treasure right across 
 the narrow jungle track by which it was proceeding and 
 thus formed an impassable barrier behind which it was 
 cut off from the dacoits. The outlaws seeing their chief 
 fall and the position of affairs, thought discretion the 
 better part of valour and made tracks through the jungle. 
 
 When all was over the sepoys bound up my wound and 
 brought me a prisoner to the district head-quarters. I 
 was sent to hospital, and on my recovery tried, convicted 
 of dacoity, and sentenced to transportation, across the 
 Black Water, for the term of my natural life. I bowed 
 my head to the will of fate and yielded, without a mur¬ 
 mur, to the inevitable. 
 
 I had been five years at the Andamans when my con¬ 
 duct attracted the notice of the governor. He spoke to 
 
340 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 me one morning as he was going his rounds, said he had 
 noticed with pleasure how industrious and attentive to 
 duty I had always been; and ended by enquiring if I 
 would like to get married. I joined my hands and mak¬ 
 ing a low obeisance answered in the affirmative. “Very 
 good,” said he, “ go to my office and await my return.” 
 I dropped my hoe, I had been working in the garden, and 
 proceeded as directed to the governor’s office. I squatted 
 down in the verandah to await his return. I had not been 
 long here before I was joined by a buxom young woman 
 of some five and twenty summers. She, too, had attract¬ 
 ed the notice of the governor for her industry and good 
 behaviour and was now going to have her reward in a 
 partner for life. She squatted down also in the verandah 
 to await the return of the governor, but with her back to 
 me and as far away as possible. 
 
 Such were our positions when the governor returned 
 after making his tour of inspection. He ordered us to 
 stand up and face one another. We did so, but the wo¬ 
 man drew the corner of her chudder across her face and 
 held her head down. She was the first addressed by the 
 governor. “ Well, my good woman,” he said, “will you 
 have this man,” pointing to me, “ for your future hus¬ 
 band?” u Ha Khudawand /” (Yes, my lord) was the 
 timid reply. He then turned to me and asked if I would 
 accept the woman as my future spouse. I replied in the 
 affirmative, and we were pronounced man and wife. We 
 lived together very contented and happy in the Settlement 
 for about five years after our marriage. Then we were 
 informed that the great Maharanee of the Sabih logue had 
 been proclaimed Empress of India, and that in comme¬ 
 moration of the event two thousand prisoners were to be 
 pardoned and set at liberty. My wife and I, I was told, 
 
CONCLUDING STORY—A BIG DACOITY. 
 
 341 
 
 had been recommended for the Maharanee's clemency. I 
 could have jumped out of my skin with delight when 1 
 first heard the news; my wife was even more affected by 
 the intelligence, if that were possible, than I was. She 
 sat down and literally shed tears of joy. 
 
 But here a change came o’er the spirit of my dream of 
 liberty and happiness. I learned for the first time, on the 
 voyage home, that my wife, who was a Calcutta woman, 
 had been married before she was transported, and had 
 two children by her first husband. All three were living, 
 so my wife was told by a khulassee of the steamer, 
 who knew the parties. Here was a nice kettle of fish! 
 and I began already to feel the scorpion stings of jealousy. 
 What would become of me and my two children, I 
 thought, if my wife was claimed by her first husband! 
 The bare thought was maddening ! I could stand it no 
 longer, so I put the question t q my wife point blank. 
 Would she forsake her convict husband and children for 
 her first love, were he to come forward and claim her on 
 landing ? She declared she would not. This assurance 
 in a manner satisfied me. And all went well till the day 
 after landing. 
 
 We were seated in the compound of the old female pri¬ 
 son at Alipore, now the Reformatory school for juvenile 
 offenders, talking over the events of the voyage and form¬ 
 ing plans for the future, our two children playing with 
 pebbles beside us, when a cry of pain was heard in the 
 direction of the main entrance. My wife jumped to her 
 feet like a flash of lightning, and ran to the spot from 
 where the cry proceeded. I watched her movement with 
 a beating heart and the next instant saw her with the 
 crying child in her arms smothering it with caresses! 
 All my worst fears were now realised. It was her own 
 
342 
 
 KNAVERY UNMASKED. 
 
 child by her first husband! The father of the child, it 
 appears, had, on the day previous, endeavoured to gain 
 admission to see his wife but failed. He now came armed 
 with an order from Mr. Charles, the Officiating Deputy 
 Commissioner of Police, not only to see the woman but to 
 take her away.* He had brought his two children with 
 him to meet their mother, and in the crush at the gate 
 one of the little ones, the youngest, got trampled on and 
 began to cry. Though the child was only a year old when 
 the mother was transported, she now, nearly ten years 
 afterwards, recognised the voice of her own offspring! 
 Was it maternal instinct? I believe it was. When the 
 question was subsequently put to the woman herself, how 
 she came to recognise the voice of a child from whom she 
 had been parted ten years, she replied, “ Don’t the sheep 
 know the bleat of their own lambs ? Why then shouldn’t 
 I know the cry of my own child ? ” 
 
 After caressing the child my wife caught sight of her 
 first husband; the moment their eyes met and they re¬ 
 cognised each other there was a scene I shall never forget. 
 Suffice it to say I had seen enough to convince me that 
 she would never again return to my protection. 
 
 But here arose another difficulty. Though my wife had 
 made up her mind to return to her first love, her heart, I 
 could see yearned towards my children, and she felt 
 reluctant to part with them. I determined to make the 
 most of this. And as she was leaving the conqoound with 
 her first husband, my children called upon her in the 
 wildest accents of despair to return and abide with them*. 
 She stood for a moment irresolute how to act and as their 
 cries became louder and louder she turned and flew back 
 to them, and taking them up in her arms would have 
 
 * Fact, every word of it! 
 
CONCLUDING STORY—A BIG DACOITY. 
 
 343 
 
 carried them off had I not interfered to prevent it. She 
 then sat down beside the children and refused to move 
 without them. The Deputy Commissioner of Police was 
 appealed to. He decided that the woman was free to go 
 with either husband, but that she had no claim to the 
 children of the man she refused to live with. On hearing: 
 this, she rose slowly, and after embracing my children, hur¬ 
 ried away from the spot with her first husband. That 
 was the last I ever saw of the mother of my children. 
 
 This brings the history of my eventful life up till the 
 present moment. I have consequently no more confessions 
 to make; so, with your permission, will say salam! and 
 retire. 
 
 FINIS. 
 

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RARE BOOK 
 COLLECTION 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 AT 
 
 CHAPEL HILL 
 
 Mystery- 
 
 Detective 
 
 17