India -- History -- British occupation, 1765-1947 -- Fiction
The reason of the existence of this outpost and its garrison was the
guarding of the _duars_, or passes, through the Himalayas against
raiders from Bhutan, that little-known independent State lying between
Tibet and the Bengal border. Its frontier was only two miles from, and a
few thousand feet above, Ranga Duar.
"You are just in time for our one yearly burst of gaiety, Wargrave,"
said the Commandant, "the visit of the Deb Zimpun."
"What on earth is that, sir?" asked the subaltern.
"Sounds like a new disease, doesn't it?" said Burke laughing. "But it
isn't. The Deb Zimpun is a gintleman av high degree, the Heridithary Cup
Bearer to the Deb Raja."
"To the what?" demanded the bewildered Frank.
Major Hunt smiled.
"Bhutan is supposed to be ruled by a temporal monarch called the Deb
Raja and also by a spiritual one, known in India as the Durma Raja. In
reality it is under the sway of the most powerful of the several great
feudal lords of the land, the Tongsa Penlop or Chief of Tongsa, whom we
regard as the Maharajah of Bhutan. He has placed himself, as far only as
the foreign relations of the country go, under the suzerainty of the
Government of India; and in return we grant him a subsidy of a _lakh_ of
rupees a year. It used to be fifty thousand, but the sum was doubled
years ago. To get the money one of the State Council comes every year.
He is an official called the Deb Zimpun."
"Faith! he's a rum old beggar, Wargrave," broke in Burke. "Looks like
the Pope av Rome in his thriple crown, for he wears a high gold-edged
cap and a flowing red robe av Chinese silk, out av which sticks a pair
av hairy bare legs."
"The Political Officer receives him in _durbar_; and we furnish a Guard
of Honour. The Colonel gives a dinner to him and us, and we have another
spread in the Mess. That reminds me. I suppose Dermot will be going into
the jungle soon to shoot for the pot, as the _durbar_ is next week.
You'd better get him to take you. You can have one of our elephants and
provide for our larder."
"Thanks very much, Major," said the delighted subaltern. "The Colonel
promised to let me accompany him and lend me a rifle."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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