Historical fiction; India -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Thugs (Indic criminal group) -- Fiction
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.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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