Historical fiction; India -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Thugs (Indic criminal group) -- Fiction
"I am ready," said he; and we arose and lounged about the road. The
travellers came up. One was a young and the other an old man. I marked
the young one, and as he passed me a Thug laid hold of his arm; he
turned round to resent it, and I was ready. These too were carried
away, and after collecting our dispersed party, we once more pursued
our route without interruption.
It had been a good morning's work. The Sahoukar was as rich as the
Bhutteara had said, and four thousand three hundred rupees greeted
our expectant eyes as the contents of the laden ponies were examined:
besides these there were six handsome shawls, worth better than a
thousand more, and a few pieces of cotton cloth, which were torn up and
immediately distributed. The other four travellers had upwards of a
hundred rupees, a sum not to be despised, and which I divided equally
among the band, reserving the large booty, and adding it to the sum we
had already gained.
CHAPTER XXIX.
We reached Jubbulpoor without another adventure of any kind, and
rested there for two days. Peer Khan, Motee, and myself perambulated
the bazars during the whole time, but not a traveller could we meet
with, nor could we learn that any were expected; it was therefore of no
use to remain, and as we had still plenty of time before us, we could
travel as leisurely as we pleased: so on the third morning we again
proceeded. The country between Jubbulpoor and Nagpoor is a wild waste.
Villages are not met with for miles and miles, the road is stony and
uneven, and the jungle thick and dangerous for nearly the whole way.
On this account the tract has always been a favourite resort of Thugs,
and more affairs have come off in those few marches than perhaps in any
other part of the country frequented by us. We were all regretting that
we had not met with some bunij at Jubbulpoor, wherewith to beguile the
weariness of the road, when, at our second stage, soon after we had
arrived, Motee, who had gone to look out for work for us, returned with
the glad news that there was a palankeen at the door of a merchant's
shop, surrounded by bearers and a few soldiers, which looked very much
as if it belonged to a traveller.
"But he must be of rank," said Motee, "therefore I humbly suggest that
you, Meer Sahib, should undertake to see who he is, and to secure him,
if possible."
I followed his advice, and changing my travelling attire for a dress
which would ensure my civil reception, I armed myself, and, attended by
a Thug, who carried my hooka, I sauntered into the village. I soon saw
the palankeen and men about it; and in order to gain some intelligence
to guide me, I went to a Tumbolee's shop directly opposite to it, and
sitting down, entered into conversation with the vendor of tobacco and
pan.
"This a wild country you live in, my friend," said I.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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