Historical fiction; India -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Thugs (Indic criminal group) -- Fiction
I took the spear, a long light bamboo, with a large stuffed ball
of cotton at the end of it, from which depended a number of small
streamers of red cloth, and following Ghuffoor Khan, dashed forwards
into the plain. We pursued each other alternately, now advancing to the
attack, now retreating, amidst the plaudits of the assembled horsemen,
who looked on with curiosity to see how an utter stranger would
behave against the most accomplished cavalier of the army. For a long
time neither of us had any advantage over the other; our horses were
admirably trained, and neither allowed the other to approach within
reach of the spear-thrust. This was the great nicety of the tilt,
and cries of "Shabash! Shabash!" resounded at every baffling turn or
successful escape from a meditated blow. At last the Khan touched me;
it was but a graze, which I received on my arm, having delayed for an
instant to turn my horse, and he cried out that he had won.
"I own it," said I, as our horses stood panting for breath, "for I am,
as you know, a novice at the use of the weapon; yet if you will give me
another trial, I will again cross spears with you, and see if I have
not better luck."
"Good," cried he, laughing; "but look out, for I warn you I shall not
be merciful; a sharp blow on the ribs of a young hand teaches him his
vulnerable point, and causes him to be careful ever after."
"Come on," cried I; "if I can I will return the compliment."
We again took a large circle, and at a good canter approached each
other till we were nearly within spear's-length. The Khan was as good
as his word, and made several desperate lunges at me. I avoided them,
however, by the quickness of my horse; and I plainly saw that he could
by no endeavour approach near enough to me to strike a decisive blow.
His horse, too, being fatter, was more blown than my own; and, after
allowing him to weary it still more for some time in a vain pursuit
of me, I suddenly changed my position, and became his assailant. I
believe I was more cool and wary than he was, for he appeared vexed
that a stranger should be on such equal terms with him at his favourite
exercise; he did not parry my lunges with the same precision as in the
first encounter, when, notwithstanding all my efforts to touch him, he
avoided and laughed at me. Still I had not touched him; and growing
weary of my close pursuit, he endeavoured to turn again and become
the assailant; but whether his horse was slow in wheeling round, or
whether I was too near to allow of his avoiding the blow, I know not;
but, as he endeavoured to cross behind me, I wheeled my horse suddenly,
struck my heels into his sides, and, as he gave his accustomed bound
of some yards, struck my spear full on the broad chest of the Khan,
who was somewhat stunned by the blow. A loud shout from those around
us proclaimed my victory; and the Khan himself, though abashed at his
defeat, was one of the loudest in my praises to the chief himself.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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