Historical fiction; India -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Thugs (Indic criminal group) -- Fiction
From that day I put myself under the tuition of the Gooroo, or teacher
of the band,--an old Thug who was worn out with age, but had been
considered to be one of the most dexterous Bhuttotes, or stranglers,
who had lived within the memories of any of the men of our company. He
was a Hindoo, a Rajpoot; and though his frame was dry and shrivelled,
yet from his height, breadth of shoulders, and sinews, which were
developed the more by the absence of flesh to cover them, it was
easy to see that he had been a man of immense strength and power;
and, added to this, if his great dexterity in using the handkerchief
was considered, the stories of his superior prowess might easily
be credited. I had hitherto not associated much with him--beyond a
courteous demeanour to each other, we had been but little acquainted;
so I begged my father to take me to him, deliver me over to his care,
and request of him to initiate me thoroughly in the practice of a
bhuttote. He was delighted at this spontaneous offer on my part,
readily acceded to my wishes, and at once put me under the care of
Hoosein and Roop Singh, the old Thug I have mentioned, who belonged to
Hoosein's party.
"For a few days," said my father, "I will not see you; you shall remain
with them; and when you return to me, let me welcome you as ready and
willing to take a part in the next affair we may be engaged in."
The day after we began in earnest. Roop Singh repeated incantations
over me. I ate no meat, indeed tasted nothing but milk for four days.
Numerous sacrifices were made to the sacred pickaxe; every omen was
observed, and as I sat under the trees after our daily march, scarcely
a bird alighted on them but there was some conclusion drawn from it;
and the appearance of different animals and birds as we commenced our
march in the mornings were particularly observed and noted. I was
naturally very inquisitive as to the meaning of all that was done to me
and for me, but the old gooroo would not enlighten me.
"My son," said he, "when I was your age, these ceremonies were
performed over me, to make me fearless and stony-hearted, active and
cunning, so as to ensnare all who came within my reach, and to avoid
my enemies--to make me fortunate, and to cause me to win fame. In all
these I have never failed. Two others upon whom I have performed them
are rising fast to be jemadars, such is their address and courage;
and you, too, will be the same; therefore ask no questions. Content
yourself with knowing that everything is going on properly and to my
complete satisfaction, for I have not observed one unfavourable omen."
On the fifth morning, the handkerchief was put into my hand; and, after
having been bathed, anointed with sweet-smelling oils, and marked on
the forehead with vermilion, as a votary of Bhowanee, I was declared a
Bhuttote.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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