Historical fiction; India -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Thugs (Indic criminal group) -- Fiction
We agreed to put the men to death immediately after evening prayer. We
had in our camp a boy about twelve years old, the son of one of the
Thugs, who sang very beautifully, and his father used to accompany
him on the saringee. It was our custom of an evening after prayers to
send for the youth and be entertained by his songs; and he sang so
well, that he often collected a considerable sum from among us. On
this occasion he was called, and when he had begun, a message was sent
to the merchant to come and partake of our entertainment. He came,
and his servant also; the latter was a fine stout man, whiskered and
mustachioed and from the dialect he spoke, I concluded him to be a
Rajpoot of Meywar, whose inhabitants are a noble race and brave to a
degree. I eyed him, as he sat down in his place, with a half-formed
determination to change the merchant for him. Bhudrinath had been
allotted to him; and as I reflected on my own powers and his, I
felt assured that if he was thought equal to it, I was superior to
him, though I might not be considered so. Another thought, and my
determination was made; I proposed the exchange to Bhudrinath.
"As you please," said he, in a whisper, "but yonder is a tough fellow;
these Meywaree Rajpoots are active as panthers, and to tell you the
truth I did not half like the idea of being allotted to him; but there
is no help for it, and if I were to fail there are twenty others who
would finish him. But do you think yourself equal to him?"
"Yes, I do not fear him; I have, besides, a reputation to win, and do
not care running a little risk."
"As you will," he replied; "but you must mention it to your father."
I did so. The merchant was too much absorbed in the boy's song to
attend to us, and the servant was in ecstasies, as it was one of his
own country. "Are you able to do it? do not try else," said my father;
"the man is armed, and has a dagger at his girdle; a sword I do not
fear, but daggers are awkward things, and you might be wounded."
"And suppose I was," I replied, "do you think the fear of that deters
me? No, no! I have taken this on myself, and I will, with your
permission, go through with it."
"As you like, my son, I will not oppose you; you have a name to gain,
and you do well to run some risk: I will observe you narrowly, and be
ready to succour you should you require it."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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