David Leslie. A story of the Afghan Frontier

Front matter

DAVID LESLIE " O wad some Pow'r the giftie gie us. To see oursels as others see us ! It wad frae mome a blunder free us, Aud foolish notion." — Burns. DAY ID LESLIE A STOEY OF THE AFGHAN FRONTIEE BY S. S. THORBURN ■ /- BENGAL CIVIL SERVICE AUTHOR OF ' BANNtJ J OR, OUR AFGHAN FRONTIER' IN TWO VOLUMES VOL. I. AVILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS EDINBURGH AND LONDON MDCCCLXXIX AU Rights reserved CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME. CHAP. PAGE I. A TRANS-INDUS DISTRICT AND ITS DEPUTY COM MISSIONER HARD AT WORK, OP COURSE, . 1 II. A BIG DINNER, AND WHO WERE THERE, . . 13 III. MASTER AND PUPIL, . . . . . 23 IV. PRESUMPTION GETS A SET DOWN, . . . 33 V. INSTRUCTIVE BUT NOT ELEVATING, . . . 42 VI. TRYING CIRCUMSTANCES, . . . . 51 VII. A DANGEROUS RIDE, ..... 60 VIII. IN WHICH DR JOSHUA BUTTONS TREATS TWO NEW PATIENTS, 74 IX.

FRONTIER DIPLOMACY, . . . . . 85 X. WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THE BURRA SAHIB TAKES LEAVE, ....... 100 XI. A FAREWELL DINNER, AND THEN A START FOR ENGLAND, CONTENTS. VI XII. STRANGE BEHAVIOUR, . . . . .132 XIII. THE AUTHOR IS CYNICAL, AND HIS HERO VINDICTIVE, . . . . . .149 XIV. DULL, BUT SATISFACTORY, . . . . 166 XV. A CHOLERA EPIDEMIC, . . . .179 XVI. THE MISSIONARY TO THE AFGHAN NATION, AND HIS WIFE, . . . . .196 XVII. LESSONS IN HINDUSTANI, .... 209 XVIII. AN EVENING CALL, . . . . .223 XIX. VOLUNTARY SUBSCRIPTIONS, .... 235 XX. CONCERNING LOVE AND LADIES, . . . 253 XXI. THE MISSIONARY'S WIFE, . . . . 267 XXII. A BASHFUL LOVER, .....

Chapter I

A TRANS-INDUS DISTRICT AND ITS DEPUTY COMMISSIONER HARD AT WORK, OF COURSE. That wild border-land vaguely known to many of us in India as " Our North-West Frontier," contains no more interesting district than Puniala. It has moun tains aud valleys, green meadows and great expanses of sandy wastes. Its own hills are bare and sterile, but immediately beyond them lie the grand grim mountain-chains of Afghanistan. Their lower spurs, which abut on British territory, are rough and rugged as their inhabitants, the savage Zungikhails and cog nate clans. But behind this outer rampart of rocks and stones rises tier on tier of alps, black with forests, or white with snow-clad peaks and ranges. To eyes wearied with the monotonous level of the Punjab plains, the first view of the smallest hill in the district VOL. I. A is as refreshing as the first glimpse of the cliffs of Old England to the home-bound Anglo-Indian.

The scene of our story lies chiefly in the most west ern vaUey of Puniala, in which is situated Pottsabad, its chief town. The country is rich and densely populated, and presents at all seasons a pleasing pros pect of cultivated fields, flowing streams, and magnifi cent trees. Eastward of this favoured vale, but sepa rated from it by a network of hills, locally known as the Blue Mountains, is a sandy plain, which stretches away for many miles, until it merges in the low-lying alluvial lands of the Indus. The district is peopled by various Afghan tribes, each representing a distinct wave of conquest or immi gration, and all — with the exception of some degenerate hybrids settled in the canal-irrigated tracts — strong of limb and bold of tongue. The cantonments and headquarter civil station are at Pottsabad, in the most fertile part of the valley, and enjoy the mixed reputation of being always pretty, sometimes unhealthy, and at all times much exposed to attack from the independent Highlanders beyond the border.

This veracious history opens on a hot, close after noon towards the end of March in the year 186- Both man and beast felt oppressed, and the very atmosphere, as if sympathising with them, was thick and heavy with dust. Not a breath of air had stirred all day, nor for several days previously, and not a drop of rain had fallen for seven weeks and more. The corn in the fields, the flowers and the grass in the gardens, and the young leaves of the mulberry and sissu trees, which lined the roads of the station, were dull and drooping instead of fresh and bright as they should have been in the glad spring-time. As for man and beast, both were uncomfortable in the unusual heat, and both were still clad in their cold-weather gar ments ; but the former could throw off his covering at pleasure, whilst the latter could not.

No — the poor sheep had no remedy but to wait until they should be shorn of their fleeces ; and they were waiting meekly and patiently, and beyond an occasional bleat of pro testation made no other complaints. But man, proud man, he who is but " a little lower than the angels," and claims to be endowed with a god like intelligence, kept grumbling and spluttering ; and a weather-wise " griff" — young Sparks of the artillery — made the same sage remark on three several occasions on that one afternoon. He said, " This sort of thing can't last, you know ; we must have a burst up soon, so look out." Though his language was somewhat vague, every one hoped his prophecy would come true ; and though no one believed in the boy's special weather wisdom, still his hearers derived consolation from his positive assertions.

The prophet of good tidings is always welcome, no matter what his credentials are. Major ' Augustus Honeyman, Deputy Commissioner 1 It is only within the last ten or twelve years that civilian deputy of Puniala, was an exception to the general rule, for he had passed the greater part of the day in office, and had neither felt the want of a punkah nor a desire to throw off his coat and work in his shirt-sleeves. This was the more remarkable in his case, as he was bull necked, and what he called robust, but his friends round and comfortable in appearance. However, being a giant at work, and a giant in energy and intellect as weU, and having on that particular afternoon had two heavy cases to try, he probably had not time to feel warm, or at least to ask himself how he felt. His court-house, or cutcherry, as it is termed in India, was a large, flat-roofed, single-storey ed building of the regu lation pattern aud structure.

It was built on one side of the station gardens, which were beautifully laid out, and owed their conversion from a wHderness into a smiling paradise of flowers and grassy plats to the taste of a former deputy commissioner, the illustrious Cap tain Potts, whose fame had been perpetuated, on his retiring from the service, by a grateful country and a parsimonious Government ordering that the town and station which he had adorned should be in future offici ally known as Pottsabad. At the other extremity of the gardens was Major Honeyman's bungalow, a roomy hand some house, which, from its proximity to the cutcherry, was most conveniently situated for its present occupant. It was past six o'clock. Not a sound was audible in commissioners have been appointed in several of the frontier dis tricts. the court-house, save the scratching of Major Honey man's quiU-pen, and an occasional cough from the prisoner or one of his guard.

The Deputy Commis sioner was writing his last judgment, and the case was one in which he considered an exemplary punishment required, even though the evidence was weak. The prisoner, a fine-looking youth of some sixteen years, was a hill-man, and had been caught, according to the police account, lurking after sunset in the public gardens with intent to rob or murder. As he was armed to the teeth when seized, rand had, it was alleged, attempted to defend himself, the presumption was he had come down from the hills on a housebreaking expedition — perhaps to kill an infidel Sahib — and was captured almost in the act. His defence was, that he had been walking peaceably along the road behind the big bungalow ; but feeling sleepy — having trudged thirty miles since morning — he had entered the gardens and lain down, and on waking found himself in the hands of a police patrol.

At last the busy pen ceased, and Major Honeyman began to read over to himself what he had written. As he did so a smile of self-complacency stole over his face. He prided himself on the grace and perspicuity of his style, and evidently considered his present per formance a masterpiece. When he had done, he said to the prisoner in bad Pushto, in a sharp incisive tone, " Tor Khan, listen ! I have given you seven years' black water." DAVID LESLIE. The boy's face had, during the writing of the judg ment, worn an indifferent, almost vacuous expression ; but at the words " Tor Khan " it had brightened up all over, as a dark cloud does when the sun shines on it. A moment after the look was gone, and gave place to one of blank despair. The blighting sentence had done its work. The prisoner, a convict now, was led out of the cutcherry with about as much animation in him as the murderer feels during his last walk to the scaffold.

When he had gone, Major Honeyman commenced dictating a translation of his judgment into vernacular, but had not proceeded far when a great hubbub arose outside. His first thought was that a rescue was being attempted. On the impulse of the moment he snatched up his revolver, which lay on his writing-table, being generally used as a paper-weight, and went towards the door. But before he reached it he was able to dis tinguish, out of the confusion of sounds which fell on his ears, the words " My son, my son," and " Father, father, I am innocent." Sobbing, too, as that of a rough strong man, convinced him it was nothing but the prisoner's father crying over his boy, and the police guard driving the old fellow away. In a little all was still, and Major Honeyman resumed and finished his translation.

Seven years' transporta tion was in truth a severe sentence, but the Deputy Commissioner felt he had written an able and elaborate judgment, and grudged its immediate consignment to the oblivion of the record-room. Besides this, he had a lurking doubt about the prisoner's guilt, and was honest enough to wish the youth to get the chance of escape which an appeal would afford. By punishing very heavHy he thus secured an appeal, and thereby satisfied both his vanity and his conscience, — for an appeal meant the publication of the case in the law journal of the province, and a possible acquittal for the convict. Having disposed of this, his last case, Major Honey man signed his name to some twenty vernacular docu ments, which his chief munshi put before him ; but only initialled another and larger pile of less important papers, brought forward by another munshi.

Before he had completed scratching A. H. as fast as he could on each paper, seven o'clock was struck on the cut cherry gong, and he announced it was too late to take petitions that day, and prepared to go. As he rose, those of the munshies who were sitting got up also, and made their master, as was customary, a humble obeisance, which he acknowledged by a stiff and almost imperceptible nod. All was bustle for the moment. Scattered papers were collected ; the hurra Sahib's office boxes were closed ; a Baboo rushed in with some Treasury drafts to be signed ; and the dozing attendants at the door sprang to their feet, and hastily cleared a passage for their master amongst the crowds of petitioners, whom they ordered to go away, as the Sahib had no time to attend to them that day. When DAVID LESLIE. the Sahib did appear in the verandah, many hands were held out towards him, each waving a scrap of paper ; but no one spoke, as he was known to be a strict disciplinarian, who would punish with a night in the lock-up any man that shouted at him after his day's work was done.

Passing down the lane of petitioners regardless of disappointed looks, outstretched arms, and petitions great and small flourished under his very nose, and even of several thrown at him by bold unfor tunates who had been unable to get a place in the front rank of the throng, he dismissed his attendants, and entered the station gardens. It was often his custom to take a solitary stroll in them after office was over; and on this occasion, partly from the fatigues of the day, and partly, no doubt, owing to the heat and his warm cloth clothing, he felt particularly desirous of a few minutes' quiet. No sooner had he entered his favourite walk which, adjoining as it did the vegetable portion of the gardens, and leading through the vinery, was little frequented, than he was startled by being confronted by a wild-looking hill-man.

Iu alarm he recoiled a pace or two and grasped his revolver ; but a rapid survey of the rough intruder convinced him that the man was unarmed, and, judging from his white beard, well over sixty years of age. Throwing his turban down on the ground, and embracing Major Honeyman's feet, this old Pathan did nothing but cry out, " For God's sake, Sahib ! for God's sake, Sahib ! " without saying anything more. Major Honeyman drew himself away, and told his suppliant to get up and calm himself. The man rose. " Now say quickly what you want. Don't cry like a woman or play the fool," said the Deputy Commis sioner, sharply, in Pushto. On hearing these words uttered in his own tongue the petitioner made an effort to check his emotion, and then said, very humbly, " I am the father of Tor Khan, the boy you have sent to the black water.

He is my only son. Let me be punished in his stead. The lad is a good son, neither thief nor robber." His speech was broken, as, although he had subdued his excitement, his chest still worked, and he could not quite suppress his sobs. Major Honeyman was touched ; and putting his hand on to the other's shoulder, said, kindly enough, " Your son must bear his own punishment. Come to-morrow and I will let you see him. Then you must appeal. You know what that means. Perhaps the Surkar will be merciful." The old man thanked him and went away, and the Deputy Commissioner of Puniala was left to himself. For some minutes he paced the quiet walk with a brisk and hurried step ; but as the stillness grew upon him, and the evening twilight deepened into night, he seU into a slow, meditative saunter. He thought of the time, more than twenty years before, when he first landed in India, a happy, thoughtless griff; how, before he had mastered his driU, he lost his heart to Miss Bethesda Hay, a penniless girl with "good connec tions " in high places ; how those connections procured for him a civil appointment in the lately annexed pro vince of the Punjab ; how a few short weeks after his marriage the heat of his passion evaporated, and Bethel — as he called his wife — ceased to appear to him the angel he had thought her, but very like other women, only possessed of a better head and a rather strong wiU of her own.

He thought, too, how his wife's ambition had induced him several years back to accept what friends had caUed " the post of honour and danger" he then occupied, and how it seemed turning out to be neither the one nor the other, but a place of banishment and discomfort. Whilst deep in these reveries he caught sight of what appeared a female form, muffled in white drapery, moving towards him. Stepping aside, and concealing himself behind a bush, he watched the approaching apparition. Nearer and nearer it came ; but the face was hidden by its covering, and, owing to the increas ing darkness, he could only see that in contour the figure was that of a graceful young woman. He was puzzled. Ghosts he did not believe in, yet if not a ghost who could it be ? Softly he stepped back into the walk, and softly he followed the apparition, out of the gardens and round by a little path which skirted the compound of his assistant's bungalow.

Suddenly what he followed disappeared, but it did so exactly opposite a back entrance into Mr David Leslie's compound. Now this Leslie was Major Honeyman's assistant — a competition-wallah of five or six years' standing. He was a quiet, reserved, young fellow, a rapid yet thorough worker. StiU his Deputy Commissioner was not quite satisfied with him. Although generally modest and unassuming in manner, Leslie frequently exhibited a lack of subordination and deference to his superiors. So thought Major Honeyman; and no doubt he was right. Young competition-wallahs have not much sense of discipline at the best, and when brought into contact with what are termed " mditary civilians, " that defici ency in their mental training sometimes becomes pain fully conspicuous. As to LesHe's private character, Major Honeyman regarded him loosely in his own mind as somewhat of a prig and goody-goody style of youth ; but this feeling may partly have arisen from a petty jealousy of the other's abilities, and a suspicion that Leslie did not appreciate the able and experienced Major Augustus Honeyman as highly as that gentle man's merits demanded.

When, then, he saw the figure disappear where it did, he immediately jumped to the conclusion that it was a woman, certainly young, and probably pretty, belonging to Leslie's estabHshment. On the instant his assistant, whom, as I have said, he had hitherto thought both mild and unmanly, rose several places in his estimation. The fact is, the older man was pleased at discovering, as he supposed, that the younger was not so very much better after all than other men. Had any one hinted to Major Honeyman such was the case, he would have denied it ; but still so it was. It is not in fallen human nature not to experience some soreness at special goodness in any one, and not to know some satisfaction at whatever detracts from such goodness. Being now quite dark, Major Honeyman hastened home, mentally ticketing his assistant as a sly young dog, who required to be well looked after ; and already enjoying, by anticipation, the poor youth's confusion when he should be skilfully questioned about the mysterious female.

Chapter II

A BIG DINNER, AND WHO WERE THERE. As Honeyman (I think we know him well enough now to drop the Major) approached his house, sundry indications told him that the dinnerhour was near. The kitchen, which was a detached building, and some forty yards from the bungalow itself, was all aglow, and dusky half-naked forms were seen stooping and flitting about its fires. One man was doing turnspit to a roast ; another was peeling potatoes ; a third flipping cream ; whilst the head cook was moving about inside the kitchen-room, poking his noise into various pots, and examining, but not tasting, their contents with a spoon. The bungalow, too, seemed prepared for an entertainment, for the lights of numerous wall and table lamps shone brightly through the chicks (thin blinds). Although Honeyman felt pleased at all these "signs of home and comfort, he hurried rather guiltily into his room to dress for dinner, glad when he got there to have been able to slip in without meeting his wife.

The special preparations in the kitchen and else where had reminded him it was Thursday — the day on which he always gave his little weekly dinner party — and on such days his dear Bethel was apt to show temper if all things did not go smoothly. He had just laid aside his coat and waistcoat, and sat down on a chair to have his boots drawn off by his bearer, when his wife stole into the room from behind him, and laying a long cold hand on his shoulder exclaimed, "You selfish man, you are late as usual ! " " Good God ! how you startled me ! " said the selfish man, jumping up ; " you should have knocked. I might have been " "Knock, — nonsense." replied the lady, interrupting him, and beginning to whimper; "a reproof is your only welcome to me, after I have been slaving all day to make things nice for your guests : for you are always very careful not to let me ask those / like."

Hereupon Mrs Honeyman sat down, and would have become hysterical had she not recollected in time that she was dressed for the evening, and so thought better of it. She now wiped her eyes, and prepared to re sume the attack. But her husband, who hated scenes, interposed, and said deprecatingly, " Why, Bethel, my dear, I thought you asked our new Padre especially for yourself." "No, indeed," rejoined she, somewhat mollified by her husband's deferential manner ; " I asked the Padre, as you call him, because we have not had him before. Besides, he is young and inexperienced, and the present is a good opportunity for giving him wise counsel." "With you. as counsellor, my dear; I quite agree, and admit he is my guest," replied her husband, sarcastically, yet willing to humour her. " Of course you do, Gus."

" Now please don't call me Gus, my dear Bethel. It is such a vulgar-sounding word ; you know I can't bear it." " Well, Augustus then," said his wife, half appeased, as she rose to go. But unwdling to leave the field without a parting shot, she added when she had reached the door, " If you are late I will order dinner without you. There, Major H., remember that." Having uttered this awful threat she quitted the room, and left her husband in peace to complete his toilet. Mrs Honeyman, I may here observe, was a woman who regarded herself as an angel of goodness, and attempted to act and talk as such. She was some times successful, but when excited or angry her weak carnal nature peeped out, and then I grieve to say the angelic side of her character was only apparent to her self. On such occasions she showed she had a temper as weU as a biting tongue.

After scolding her husband she went into the drawing-room, and was a few minutes later followed into the room by a young lady, whose sweet, bright, and almost girlish face and figure showed that she was still in her teens. This was Mary Hay, her niece, who had only been in India a fortnight, and had come up direct from Bombay to Pottsabad to stay with her aunt. "Aunty," as Mary called her, was still somewhat out of humour, and at once commenced to lecture her niece on the duty of punctuality. She was in the middle of a comparison between herself and her hus band, when " LesHe Sahib " was announced. Mrs Honeyman received him most graciously, and at once introduced him to her niece, " who," she informed him, " has come out to India on a short visit to us." It is remarkable, by the way, of how many young ladies this is said, and how few ever do return again, at least as spinsters.

When the introduction was over, the two young people looked at each other. " A pretty, blond, bread-and-butter school-girl," thought Leslie to himself, as he calmly surveyed Mary Hay. She, of course, was too shy to take more than a glance at him, and her first impression was one of disappointment, for she saw he was rather short, pale, and boyish-looking ; and this was the man her aunt had told her knew three languages, and was so clever and studious. Leslie was the first to make a remark, which, as we may suppose, referred to the heat of the weather. " Yes, it is hot," Miss Hay replied ; and then after a pause she added quickly, " but we are in India, you know." " How clever you must be, Miss Hay, to have learnt that fact already ! Why, it took me several months to learn it — or rather that India is a hot place," said Leslie, with a touch of sarcasm, for he thought Miss Hay was quizzing him, whereas she was only nervous.

Meantime the other guests arrived, and Mrs Honey man carried out her threat by ordering dinner without waiting for the appearance of her husband. However, as it was full ten minutes before her portly khansaman (butler) announced " Dinner is served," which words comprised his whole English vocabulary, Major Honey man was in plenty of time. When he came in, suave and sleek, he first apologised all round for being late, and explained that he had been detained in cutcherry until dark, and then, turning to his wife, said he hoped she had ordered dinner. " I have," she replied tartly, feeling herself defeated. " I am happy to hear it. It was so thoughtful of you, my dear," said he, making her a little bow. After that he talked with the company, and made himself so generally agreeable, that his wife almost wondered how such a pleasant man could ever be so provoking as he often was ; and Mary was only restrained from jumping up and kissing " uncle " by remembering that at the finishing school she had lately left she had been taught never to display emotion in public.

At dinner Leslie was seated next her. He felt half dissatisfied, half pleased at his position. On his left hand was the Eev. John Shepherd, lately sent out by the Church Missionary Society with the high-sounding vol. I. b title of " Missionary to the Afghan nation." Conver sation with him was out of the question, for LesHe regarded most men of his cloth either as amiable mono maniacs or unctuous hypocrites ; and even if he had wished to talk to Mr Shepherd, he would not have had the opportunity, as Mrs Honeyman monopolised all that gentleman's attention. Then as to Miss Hay, she was a chit of a school-girl ; on what possible subject beyond jam or valentines could she converse 1 At last in desperation Leslie opened the conversation by asking if it was long since she had left school. " Only six months, and yet I feel as if it was six years," was the simple answer.

" Six years ! " replied Leslie, in a tone of interest ; " do tell me your experiences." Mary looked at him. Their eyes met. Mary smiled, and looking down, said,'" After leaving school I spent some weeks in London and saw everything, and went to balls ; then I went to Paris ; and now I am out here. All the officers talk to me, and I am made so much of. I have a beautiful Arab, Buttercup he is called, and he jumps so well. I have been round the cavalry jumps on him already, but," and here she dropped her voice, " aunty does not know it." All this was said so archly and confidentially, that Leslie could not but feel nattered. After that they got on famously together. Leslie confined himself to asking questions, and Mary told him with girlish pride about Daisy, a pet pony she used to ride in the holidays at home — and Bounce, a curly-haired retriever she had brought out with her as her " guardian and chaperon," she said, laughing.

At the first discovery that she was fond of horses and dogs, Leslie, I daresay, began to fancy that she had masculiue tastes ; but if he really entertained such a thought, it soon gave place to a better one. Mary showed that her love of animals sprang from a tender little sympathetic heart. Bounce was more to her than a dumb dependant, — he was an attached friend. But tercup she loved because he was handsome and brave, and loved his mistress. Long before the end of dinner, Mrs Honeyman's vigilant eyes had observed with satisfaction how ab sorbed Leslie and her niece were with each other. But as she watched them, she became a little anxious. Mary's heightened colour and sparkling eyes, and the confiding way in which she seemed to be talking, were noted and put down, I am sorry to say, to a wrong cause — to the excitement of a glass of champagne, and of being made much of by a rising young civilian, as Mrs Honeyman regarded Leslie.

In reality Mary had only allowed her glass to be filled for form's sake, and taken a sip or two out of it. But how was her aunt to know that ? I suspect if Miss Mary had drunk a fuH glass of champagne, she would have talked as much as her aunt did to the reverend missionary, and that was incessantly all dinner-time; for I am told young ladies at school drink nothing stronger than weak tea, and champagne I know to be a dreadful thing for flying to one's head. But Mary, like a wise girl, preferred water to wine of any sort, and so aunty was quite wrong for once. Whilst the said aunty was wondering how she could convey a warning hint to her niece not to drink any more of that insinuating cham pagne, of which Mrs Honeyman, by the way, had drunk several glasses, Major Honeyman, whom a good dinner had made mischievously inclined, thought the time had come for having a rise out of his assistant.