The rest of the band, with the cart and laden bullocks, had proceeded some way before we overtook them. We passed through a thin jungle for some distance, emerging from which, we found ourselves on a wild, bare plain, here and there studded with straggling brushwood. We all collected together, and, lighting fires, the hooka passed round, and each one related his achievement, and gloried in the prospect of a speedy division of the booty we had acquired.

To arrange our future proceedings was by no means an easy matter, as it was necessary to get past Bassim, where the Sahoukar had friends; and his cart and bullocks might possibly be recognized in the town. My father's advice was to travel till daylight, and then to withdraw to one side of the road, as far from observation as possible; to remain there as long as we could, and then to push on beyond Bassim. At this halt, too, there was to be a grand division of the spoil, at least, as much of it as could be divided; and Hoosein's party was to separate from us and pursue their road, in the best way they could, in the direction which has been pointed out to them. Accordingly we again started, and, after passing some villages, halted about sunrise at some distance from the road, near a grove of trees, in which there was a well of water. Before the men betook themselves to cooking their meal, after the march, they were all assembled; and the quantity of goor having been brought, the ceremony of the Tupounee was performed as I have before described. I was now entitled to a seat on the blanket with the other Bhuttotes—I was their equal! The ceremony ended, I untied the knot of my handkerchief, as directed by my father, and taking out the piece of silver, presented it, with some rupees, to my gooroo, touching his feet at the same time in reverence. This was the last of my ceremonies of initiation. I was a Bhuttote, had fairly killed my man, and held myself to be the equal of any of my associates.

After this my father and Hoosein brought forth all the plunder of our late enterprise. It was magnificent: there was a good quantity of gold and silver in money, but the principal valuables were the jewels which the Sahoukar was taking to Hyderabad for sale, and the cloths and brocades on the bullocks—they were of the richest description. The distribution of these was a matter of great difficulty, and it was impossible to satisfy every one; besides, the pearls and diamonds would have lost a great deal of their value by being divided among the men. So it was agreed to share the ready money, cooking utensils, and other effects of the Sahoukar, also the least valuable cloths, into two equal portions as nearly as possible, in proportion to the number of men of each band; that my father was to have charge of the jewels, which he was to sell at Hyderabad to the best advantage, as also of the most valuable cloths; and that the proceeds of these were not to be divided until we again reached our place of rendezvous.

The division of the ready money, upwards of three thousand five hundred rupees, gave to each man a considerable sum, enough, at any rate, to support him for some time,—the more especially as the share of the former booty was not nearly expended; for every man lived as frugally as possible, and all seemed intent upon vying with each other as to who should have the largest share at the general division. Nay, many even denied themselves the meanest luxuries, and it was not uncommon to see a man eating his cakes without ghee, or anything but pure water. Bhudrinath, however, one of the most skilful of the band, was a complete exception to what I have said. He was a short, stout, active fellow, a man who aspired to be a jemadar, and with some reason. I have mentioned him before as the bearer of the sacred pickaxe. He was one of the most enterprizing among us, and had conducted small expeditions, in which he had acquitted himself much to the satisfaction of those who had intrusted him with them. It was curious to see that man eat. He consumed every day that he could get it, two seers of flour made into cakes, a quarter of a seer of ghee (clarified butter), and a large pot of milk containing upwards of a seer. It seemed impossible that one man could demolish the pile of cakes when he had baked them and fairly sat down to eat them, but one by one they disappeared, accompanied by such draughts of water as would alone have filled any ordinary person. Towards the end of the pile, however, it was easy to see that his jaws could hardly perform their office; and it was almost painful to behold the distension of his stomach: he would stretch himself first on one side, then on the other; get up and stroke down the mass collected, apparently from his throat downwards, and again essay to finish what remained, and after many attempts he would sometimes succeed.

Often have I seen two or more village dogs sit opposite to him, during the consumption of the mountain of cakes, looking wistfully at it, in the hope that a portion of each as he ate it might be thrown to them, watching and envying every mouthful as it passed into the apparently insatiable maw: but in vain! Sometimes Bhudrinath would divide the last two or three cakes between them, when every means of eating more had been tried and had failed; but it was oftener that desire of eating predominated. He would appear on the point of gratifying the dogs' expectations,—nay, would even break a piece off and hold it in his hand as if offering it: the dog would move towards him, but the coveted morsel disappeared as the rest had done, and he would return to his expectant station, to resume a watch which too often ended in disappointment. We often jeered him on his enormous consumption of food; but he used to declare that nothing under the daily allowance I have mentioned could satisfy him, or enable him to perform his duty.

Our encampment broke up towards evening. Friends were seen embracing each other, and wishing mutual success; at length they all departed: we watched them over the brow of an eminence not far off, and then started ourselves. Leaving the beaten road to Bassim, we struck off into one to the left, and as it promised to lead to some large town we followed it, as well to avoid discovery as to court new adventures. By the light of a bright moon we travelled most of the night, passing through a dreary country, in many parts covered with jungle, and never entering a village save to ask the road, or to get fire to light our hookas. Indeed we were often repulsed in this. There appeared to be a general dread of robbers, and the walls and gates were usually manned by armed men, on the intimation of our approach being given by the dogs as we passed: but no questions were asked us, as to who we were or where we were going, although perhaps our numbers might have excited suspicion.

In this manner, and without knowing where the road we had taken would lead us, we travelled for some days; and as we had purposely avoided the principal roads, it was not to be expected that we should meet with anything in the way of adventure, or with any travellers whom we could entice into our society. At last we came upon a broader road than that on which we had been travelling; and as we had left every danger from our late deed far behind us, we determined to follow it, in the hope that it would lead us towards Hyderabad, or some large village in its direction, from whence we could get upon a well-travelled road and carry on our vocation. As it was, we had gained a respectable booty even for a whole season; but scarcely two months had passed, and we could not afford to go on so far as Hyderabad in inactivity. The road led us on for some hours, till large mango groves, with here and there the white top of a Hindoo temple peeping over them, gave us intimation that we were approaching a place of consequence. It turned out to be the town of OomerkhÉr, a wealthy place, surrounded with most luxuriant cultivation of wheat and other descriptions of grain.

"It will be our own fault," said my father, "if we find not some game here. Having encamped on the other side of the town, the Sothaees must carefully pass through the bazaars, and this evening may bring us booty enough to recompense us for staying here."

The duty of a Sotha was one which I had also to learn: men were even more proud of excelling in it, than in that of a Bhuttote; for it required the greatest tact and powers of dissimulation, ability to support characters and disguises, a smooth tongue, and polite demeanour. Bhudrinath was one who united all in an eminent degree; he was a short, stout, active man, as I have mentioned, but extremely handsome, and with a most winning manner. It was his constant boast that he never marked out a victim whom he did not strangle with his own hands.

We passed through the town, describing ourselves as merchants from Hindostan; and as the bales of cloths when stopped by the collector of tolls were readily shown by my father, and the duty demanded on them cheerfully paid, our assertion was credited, we were civilly treated by the authorities, and shown an excellent piece of ground for our encampment. "Now dress yourself in your best clothes," said Bhudrinath, "and come with me into the town. Remember, your father is a merchant, you are a jemadar commanding his escort, I am a bhula-admee (respectable person) belonging to you; we will take with us Peer Khan, who although a Lugha is an excellent Sotha, and a respectable fellow when he is dressed and armed: and it is hard if we do not pick up somebody."

Our meal was soon cooked and eaten, and after carefully attiring ourselves we set off into the town to seek for adventures. It astonished me to see the indifference with which the practised hands proceeded, considering the object they had in view; for to me there was as much excitement in this, as in what I had already learned and practised. I confess our appearance was remarkable. I was very noticeable from my dress and arms, which were of the richest description, consistent with the appearance I had assumed. My face, then much fairer than it is now, Sahib, with a mustachio already well formed, and a figure which, though perhaps somewhat slender, gave promise of future strength and power. Contrasted with my companions, I felt I was superior to them in appearance; and a little pardonable vanity gave me an air and swagger which were not unfitting the military profession I had set up. We entered the town, and betook ourselves to the Chowree, where the kotwal and some respectable persons were sitting, surrounded by a few armed men as is usual. As we passed by them we were invited to enter, and received with great politeness. I was placed in the seat of honour by Bhudrinath, who took his station at some distance. A desultory conversation began. My father's name was asked, where he was going, and what he had brought for trade; who we were, and in short the general object of our journey, by, as they told us, an unfrequented road, at least from Hindostan. The tone in which this question was asked seemed to me so suspicious, that I thought for an instant we were suspected, and I was endeavouring to frame a reply, when Bhudrinath stopped me.

"I represent," said he, addressing the man who had asked the question, "that we were set astray at that abode of unsainted people, Nagpoor. Either with a view to deceive us, or (God knows it may be so, I have heard of such things) perhaps of robbing us, persons from whom we asked information, told us the best and most frequented road was by this place; and truly the town you have the fortune to dwell in is a place of great beauty and fertility, and is evidently in the hands of a most wise governor, and one who protects his people. How, Jemadar Sahib, have I not said truly?"

"Indeed," said I, "you have; and the kindness we have as yet met with shows that the servants of the governor are worthy of their master. Truly it is not to be wondered at if the town is prosperous and beautiful in such hands; and such is the mellifluous speech of the kotwal, that we are impressed with the greatest opinion of the discernment of the exalted person who has selected him."

"May your condescension never diminish," said the kotwal; "your slave is not worthy of these encomiums; he is less than the least. If my lord could but see the dispenser of benefits under whose beams he lives, he would indeed say that the court of Hyderabad is worthy of being compared with any in Hindostan, as having formed such a pattern of excellence."

"Well," said I, "we shall only be too glad to lay our nuzzurs at the feet of this patron of yours, and no doubt we shall see in him a pattern of noblemen, a specimen of what we may expect to see at the capital of the Dukhun. When may we hope to be admitted to the presence?"

"In the evening, after prayers," replied our acquaintance; "it is then that justice is dispensed to these poor unbelieving cultivators, and the durbar is enlivened by the presence and heavenly music of a set of dancing-women, whom my lord has brought with him from the city."

"We will come," said I; "and I pray you to give your lord notice that we have accepted your invitation to visit him; nay, that we are desirous of paying our respects to him."

As I finished speaking, an elderly man of decent appearance had entered the Chowree; he was a Hindoo, and looked like a merchant. He demanded, in rather a peremptory tone, a place to rest in, declaring, that if he did not get it immediately, he would go and complain to the ruler of the town. The spirit of the old kotwal seemed to be roused by the man's behaviour, and he declared in round terms that he would not give a foot of ground, or an empty shop, without he was civilly asked.

"Look you, gentlemen," said he to us; "I ask you to decide between us; I swear by the Prophet, I care no more than a snap of my fingers for him; I have seen twenty thousand better; and if he goes to complain, why let him go; he will be driven from the presence with stripes. People like him come in hundreds every day, and who can trouble themselves in looking after them?"

"You and your master may be the portion of the devil," said the old merchant; "ever since I have entered the territories of the Nizam, I have been treated in this manner. But it is only what I have heard before; not a night have I passed without an alarm of thieves; and God knows, if I had any protection, I would rather lie outside your wretched walls, than in the zenana of your amil himself. Your bunneas are rascals: I am refused grain at nearly double the price I paid yesterday; I am refused shelter at night. In God's name, what am I to do? Gentlemen," cried he to us, "what am I to do?"

Bhudrinath answered, as I was going to speak, and, to my astonishment, angrily. "What would you have? O discontented man! I suppose some place has been offered to you, and you have thought it not good enough; or are you drunk with opium? or has hunger after your journey spoilt your temper? Go, betake yourself to the bazar; be thankful that you can get any place; and, if no one will shelter you, lie in the street; bethink yourself that many a better man has done so before you."

The man stood aghast: he looked first at us, then at the kotwal and his men, while expressions of delight at his discomfiture ran through the kotwal's party: "Well said!" "Proper fellows!" "He ought to be turned out of the village," &c. At last, without saying a word, he threw down his turban and ran out, bellowing as loud as he could. We all burst into a hearty fit of laughter.

"That is a queer fellow," said I to the kotwal; "I doubt not you have often such to plague you; but send for him back, we will make him ashamed of himself, and I will beg you to give him a place to stay in."

"As you will," replied he; "but for your intercession I should not have troubled myself about him. Many such have I to deal with. One day a fellow comes swearing he is cheated by every one; another, that he can get nothing to eat, when perhaps both are too stingy to buy; another, that he has no shelter, when he will not pay the trifle demanded by the bunnea for the use of his shop. Again, a third must have every delicacy to be found in a city, and he is furious because he cannot get them; when, if they were all before him, he could not afford to buy one. In short, sirs, there is no end to the fancies, foolishnesses, and, I may say, tyranny, of travellers, and who think me, I suppose, to possess superhuman power, and to have jins (genii) at my command, to bring them whatever their foolish ideas may desire."

"You have indeed no easy situation, and to please every one is impossible," said I; "but here comes the merchant,"—and he entered.

"Take up your turban, good fellow," said the kotwal, "and do not be angry; you are no child to be quarrelling with decent people. Have you never travelled before, that you should be angry and throw dust on our beards in this manner? In God's name, take up your turban; and do some one of you go and see that the good man gets a place for himself."

The man looked irresolute for an instant, then took up the turban, and walked sulkily out, accompanied by the person desired to attend him. Bhudrinath gave me a sign, and we took our leave. We had scarcely got out, when he said, "That man is ours; now see how I will manage him. I dare say he has but few persons with him, and he will be easily disposed of."

We kept our eye on him and his attendant, and watched him take possession of a shed of wretched appearance, with many symptoms of dissatisfaction. We loitered purposely, till we saw that he was alone, and then went up to him.

"Ram! Ram! SÉthjee," said Bhudrinath, addressing him; "what a place is this they have put you into after all, not fit for hogs to lie in! That rascally kotwal, for all his smooth tongue, is an arrant knave, I warrant; and I have heard," continued he, lowering his voice, "that he has in his employ a number of thieves, whose business it is to cut away travellers' saddle-bags from under their heads at night, and when the poor man goes to complain in the morning, he is beaten out of the village. Did we not hear so, Jemadar Sahib?"

"Yes, indeed," said I; "don't you remember the man who met us at the village some coss from this, and warned us of the thieves of OomerkhÉr, and said he had been robbed of everything he possessed, and then driven out with scarcely a rag to cover him? It was then that I determined to encamp outside, where we might have our own sentinels, and where, if we were robbed, it would be our own fault."

"God help me! I am a lost man!" cried the merchant; "I know not what to do;" and he beat his head with his clenched hand. "In those bags is all I am worth in the world; I fled from Surat to save myself from oppression, and it appears that the further I fly the worse usage I meet. It was only two nights ago—after watching till my eyes nearly started from my head from want of sleep, and, not being able to sit longer, I lay down and my eyes closed—that an attempt was made to cut my bags from under me; and, as I awoke, the thieves snatched away two of my cooking utensils and the cloth I had about me. What could I do? Had I run after them, some fellow would have been off with my bags; so I sat still, and screamed for help. The villagers were soon assembled about me, and when I told them what had happened, a villain, who called himself the patel, abused me for defaming his village; and I was actually thrust without the gates, and left to pursue my way in the dark, in momentary dread that I should be pursued, and perhaps robbed and murdered. Oh, my unhappy fate!" cried he; "what will it not lead me to! Fool that I was to leave my own country, to become the sport of unblessed brutes, such as I have met in this wild country."

"Well," said Bhudrinath in a compassionate tone, "you have been used very ill, and you ought to go and complain to the Hakim here; report says he is a just man, although those under him may be thieves and rascals."

"No, no, no!" cried the man; "go and complain! and be fleeced of my last rupee! The great man would require a nuzzur, and every dependent would ask for one; did I dare to refuse, my situation would be worse than it is now. No, no! I have not been robbed as yet, and please God, if I could only get out of this town, I would attach myself to some party of respectable persons going the same road."

Bhudrinath turned to me, and took me a few paces aside. "The bait has taken," said he; "our net is now around him; you must draw it tightly."

"How?"——"By inviting him to our encampment; I will propose it, and you shall pretend to disagree at first, and then, after some persuasion, consent. Do you understand?"

"I do," and we turned back.

Bhudrinath again addressed him, while I turned away. "SÉthjee," said he, "you are a man in misfortune, and if we don't help you out of this place you will assuredly be robbed of everything you possess. You must come and put up in our encampment; that is to say, if the Jemadar Sahib will permit it: but the truth is, we are very careful, and allow no one to approach it, as we are escorting a merchant from Benares to Hyderabad, who has a large amount of goods with him."

"For God's sake! for the sake of your father and mother!" cried the poor wretch, "for the sake of your children, intercede for me! do not suffer me to be robbed and murdered here. Ai! Jemadar Sahib," he said to me, catching me by my dress, "you are my father and my mother; a word from you, and I am safe, and my poor merchandize will reach its destination. God knows, if anything happens to me on the road, my house will be made desolate, my employers will seize my wife and children. Jemadar, you can protect me from this; you can save my life from these fears, which make me most wretched, and are consuming my soul!"

"Thooh! good man," cried I, spitting on the ground, "do not be so abject. Inshalla! I am able by God's favour to afford protection to one who is a prince among merchants, and you are too poor to think of. In His name follow us, and we will take care of you; we are going to Hyderabad ourselves, and you can remain among the servants; do you, Peer Khan, bring this man out to us."

Peer Khan remained, and we returned to our camp. On the way we determined that he should die before evening, or when it should become dusk, and we would then go into the town and visit the evening durbar of the Hakim. In a short time we beheld the merchant, and Peer Khan, with another man, driving two ponies apparently heavily laden towards our camp.

"Come, this is more than I hoped for," said my father, "there are two of them; and two ponies well laden must afford something worth taking: we cannot expect this to be as profitable work as the last, but much may come out of it."

The men approached, and the merchant was presented to my father. "To your kindness," he said to me, "I owe all I possess, and if these poor bags might but be allowed to remain along with the rest of the merchandize you are protecting, it would increase the favour and they would be safe."

"Surely," I replied, "you can unload your beasts; and there is the pile of goods, you can put your bags on the top of it."

It was curious to see the behaviour of the men of the band; they appeared to have an instinctive knowledge of the purpose for which the men had been brought into the encampment. They did not evince the smallest savageness of demeanour, as perhaps might have been expected; on the contrary, every one was most civil and attentive to the strangers; one offered to rub down the ponies, another to make a place for cooking, a third to bring grass from the town, or anything they might require for their meal. In a short time we observed the appearance of care and anxiety on the face of the merchant to give place to a cheerful expression, and long before evening both the men were among a knot of the Thugs, listening to their stories, and themselves relating their adventures. Little did they think what preparations were making, and that in a few short hours they would cease to be counted with the living.