The rajah's racer

Front matter

B Y

NAT GOULD p»m

A Clever Sporting Novel by a New Author.

Contents

CHAPTER

I. THE MANNER OF MAN

II. — shiva's temple..

Chapter I The Manner Of Man

The natives classed him as a burra sahib, a gentleman of some position. What he really was, he alone knew. He had been in India many years, working hard by fits and starts, idling for long periods, leading a lonely isolated life for months, then suddenly plunging, with a whirl of excitement, in one of the big cities. A strange man with few friends, and none of them women ; a lover of animals ; a splendid keen sportsman, fearless, crafty, cunning in such pursuits, whether in the jungle or the open. His jamadar — manager — Abdool Chunder, was devoted to him : in his eyes he was a god to be worshipped and at times feared.

India was his home. He loved it ; was fascinated by its many mysteries and enchantments, which harmonised with his temperament. A strange man, hardly understandable to his English acquaintances ; better known by the natives living around him, who trusted him and obeyed.

He commanded obedience, and would have made a good soldier ; an old Indian officer had said,

" With a hundred men like that I would conquer a nation ; " and he meant what he said.

" What is he ? Who is he ? " the questions were often asked, over and over again, and remained unanswered, save as regards his occupation and mode of life.

Ostensibly he was a planter, but carried on his business in a lazy kind of way, caring not whether he made much or little out of his indigo, and yet prospering to all outward seeming. His coolies sometimes cheated him, entering their names on the roll, and then absenting themselves until paytime came round. When they were found out they remembered. He taught them a lesson in his own way and they seldom forgot it. His store of bits of copper coin, over sixty to the rupee, was apparently inexhaustible, and he doled it out with a liberal hand when it suited him.

The coolies hated the jamadar, who only did his duty by the sahib, but they had no evil word for the planter. The boys and girls with their merry chubby faces and fat paunches gathered round him in crowds and hailed his approach with joy. Children are good judges ; even the little dark outcasts of India. To these dusky imps the sahib was a sort of Indian Father Christmas, and the jamadar said he killed them with kindness ; utterly ruined them and encouraged insubordination. He did not say it in these words, but that was what he meant. The women looked slyly at him, throwing coquettish glances, of which he took no notice. They were for the most part dressed in large earrings, heavy brass arm rings, with long chains of bright coloured beads round their necks, and very little else.

THE MANNER OF MAN 9

The planter took an interest in his coolies ; they had decent huts, and when the blazing hot sun poured down upon them they were happy and crooned to themselves at their work ; when the cold nights came on he saw they had covering for their shrivelled up skins.

The jamadar abused the coolies in choicest Hindoo, cursing their ancestors back through many generations, with particular stress laid upon their great grandfathers and grandmothers, for begetting their parents ; but the planter seldom swore. When necessary, he used his arms.

The planter's house, a bungalow, was a large roomy structure, built on the ground floor with a spacious verandah, supported on pillars round three sides. It contained six or seven fair sized rooms, besides the kitchens and outhouses at the rear. The roof sloped almost from a point in the centre down each of the four sides, gradually widening until it reached the edge of the verandah. The bungalow was admirably adapted to the climate, the rooms being habitable in summer, and easily warmed in the cool weather. The stables were extensive, ranging down the whole of one side of the compound, in which the bungalow stood. Sloping down from the front verandah towards the river, which gleamed and glistened in the distance, shimmering like a shaken garment of silver tinsel, was a garden well kept and tended, terraced, and planned skilfully. The bullock house was handy, and not far distant could be seen the various houses, vats, buildings, and workshops where the indigo went through sundry processes. Far away in the distance was the towering mountain range, from whence the melting snows sometimes io THE RAJAH'S RACER

came down to swell the waters of the river, which from a placid stream became a foaming roaring torrent. From these snow-capped mountains, upon which the Indian sun shone with dazzling splendour, a cool breeze often scoured over the grass and jungle, entered the bungalow, leaving a sweet pure scent behind as it passed through. It was an ideal Indian planter's home, and known throughout many parts of Northern India as " Evermore." A strange name — like its owner, mysterious. There was always a welcome for visitors at Evermore, and if the owner was absent there was never any hesitation in raiding his larder and making one's self comfortable until he returned. The name of the owner of Evermore bungalow was Raja Ranji, and to his friends he was known as Raja ; to his natives as Ranji Sahib. Many people were certain this was not his real name. He was an Englishman, they vowed ; and yet his dark complexion almost proclaimed him a native of the land. Real name or not, he was never spoken of as other than Raja Ranji, and he was not a man to brook prying into his affairs, or to be questioned out of idle curiosity

Raja Ranji owned Evermore, and the lands adjoining it ; surrounding it on all sides. What he did not own he rented from the Rajah of Shirazi, with whom he was on terms of friendship. For many miles Raja Ranji could ride without leaving his own ground, which included grass lands, jungle, farm lands, where indigo, maize, sugar cane and a variety of grain and vegetables were grown. A wealthy baboo owned the land extending beyond Evermore, and here Raja was as much at home as on his own domain. Altogether, he had free rights over an

THE MANNER OF MAN n

enormous tract of country, and his face was familiar in many scattered villages, nestling beneath the shade of the plantain and mango groves. In many of these villages he acted as administrator of justice, dealing it out as he thought right, avoiding the cumbersome law, and relying upon his common sense and knowledge of the native character. His decisions were received with respect and seldom failed to give satisfaction. He farmed many of these villages ; that is, he let the ryots have their land in return for preparing certain fields for the indigo crop, making advances to them on account so that they were enabled to buy seeds for their own ground. Sometimes he had trouble with these men, but his masterful way of dealing with them gave him the upper hand.

It was after eight o'clock, and Raja Ranji having finished his dinner was enjoying a cigar, seated in an easy lounging chair on the verandah. The night was very still ; there was no breeze, and it had been a blazing hot day. The planter wore a cool, comfortable costume, resembling a pyjama suit, the jacket of which was thrown open. He was quite alone, no new experience for him. From the rear of the bungalow came a faint echo of the clatter of pots and pans, mingling with the incessant chattering of the servants. An occasional bark from the kennels sounded strangely loud, and from the garden arose a peculiar humming sound like the gradual simmering down of boiling water in a kettle. He loved these dreamy nights, and solitude was the companion he most favoured. Close to him, on the verandah, lay a big wolfhound, and on the other side of his chair a terrier played with a kitten. He watched their gambols, smiling at their antics, wondering how long the peace would continue between them. He had been idling around most of the day, in the cooler hours, riding amongst the familiar scenes, observant of everything, even when apparently absorbed with his thoughts. It was always so with him, and his shekarry said he had eyes in the back of his head.

He watched the smoke of his cigar curling in fantastic shapes in the air ; he thoroughly enjoyed tobacco : it soothed him, brought with it pleasant thoughts to keep him company. He seldom drank ; liquor was not good for him. Strong man that he was, it had mastered him more than once, and he vowed it should never again gain a victory over him.

There was a light footfall, and a figure came round the corner of the bungalow.

He closed his eyes, remaining perfectly still ; he knew who it was coming towards him.

A young girl dressed in the native costume, with rings in her ears, and a flowing robe through which her limbs could be seen as she moved, her arms naked, and her hair uncoiled, crept into the verandah, and paused listening. The terrier sniffed, then wagged his tail in welcome ; the big hound winked his eyes, as his head lay between his paws ; the kitten darted inside after a parting scratch at his playmate.

The light from the lamp shone through the window into the verandah, and cast a glow on Raja's figure in the chair. Noiselessly the girl came towards him, and as she stepped into the light it shone upon her glistening earrings and played about her bronze coloured arms and soft silky covering. It illuminated her face, a beautiful bewitching face, strangely

THE MANNER OF MAN 13

contrasting with the other women about Evermore, whose countenances were as a rule plain even to coarseness. She had dark lustrous eyes, the lids drooping well over, eyebrows black and somewhat thick, her lashes long. Her features were irritatingly irregular, giving her face a strange charm. Her lips were somewhat thick, her nose slightly prominent, her cheeks smooth and well rounded. She was not quite the average height, slim and graceful, her bosom full and high set.

Bending over Raja she peered into his face, then she sat down at his feet, waiting patiently, looking up at him.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye, and presently placed his hand on her head. A shiver of pleasure ran through her frame as*she nestled against his outstretched leg. He stroked her hair tenderly for some minutes in silence, then he said, in a deep, low, yet not unmusical voice,

" Krishna, you ought not to be here."

She put her hands on him, and looking up, said,

"It is good to be here."

" If your father comes he will be angry."

" He will not come ; he is away He has gone to the temple of Shiva."

Raja muttered something savagely under his breath.

" To see Paroes the Brahmin ? "

" It is so ; to see Paroes the Brahmin," she replied.

" Curse him. May his gods shatter him," said Raja.

She shuddered and clasped his hand.

" Paroes is powerful. His god is destruction — the terrible Shiva — the all-powerful, the supreme."

" Poor little Krishna," he said, kindly, slowing down his temper. " Does your father fear him — this Brahmin ? "

" He believes ; he worships at the temple of Shiva."

" And Paroes bids him do his will," said Raja.

" It is so, Sahib."

" And what is his will, Krishna ? "

Again the shudder passed through the girl's body

" I am his will," she said in a low voice.

" Thou ! " he exclaimed. Then rousing himself, he sat up and said —

" It is monstrous ; it shall not be. Abdool is mad. Give his daughter to a priest of Shiva, a degraded beast like Paroes. By heaven, it shall never be."

" There is this," she said, and something glittered in the light.

" For him or for thee ? " he asked.

" For both ! " she answered.

" Krishna, you must be brave. I will speak to your father."

" It is not safe ; he will know I have been here."

" He shall not know. I will find some way to speak to him. If there is danger, come here. Paroes cannot, dare not, enter here."

" He is young and strong, and a priest of Shiva," she said.

Raja laughed. He cared but little for Shiva and all his worshippers.

" I am strong also," he said

She smiled ; it was a self-evident fact.

" I will thrash Paroes the Brahmin," he said. •

Her face denoted that such a proceeding would give her satisfaction ; but she tried to dissuade him.

THE MANNER OF MAN 15

He took her in his arms and said softly —

" Little daughter, the Brahmin shall do you no harm."

" You are as a father to me," she said.

" That is so. Abdool is thy father, too ; you are quite safe."

She thanked him, and glided swiftly away, never looking behind.

" Poor, pretty little Krishna," he said to himself. " Abdool is an old fool. Give his daughter to that beast of a priest ! Not if I know it. Shiva may be the god of destruction. If so, he shall start at Paroes. Wait until Abdool comes round ; he'll get into trouble with me if he doesn't look out. I wonder if Krishna is his child. She's not a bit like the ugly old beggar. One thing is certain, if he is incapable of taking care of her I am not, and that unholy Brahmin will have to reckon with me if he dares lay a hand upon her."

Chapter II

Abdool Chunder walked noiselessly along under the outspreading trees, picking his way carefully, seeing in the dim light better than many people not of his race would have done in broad daylight. A tall, thin man, Abdool, with a well dried skin, and an inscrutable face. Strong and active, wiry, a rough man to handle in a struggle when the passion was in him. He had been jamadar at Evermore for a long time, and got on well with Raja Ranji. They understood each other, and the Sahib seldom raged at him, being too indolent and easy going : so thought Abdool.

There was a strong sickly scent in the air from the mhowa flower ; it would have been nauseous to a European, but Abdool sniffed it with satisfaction. The tall feathery looking trees around and towering above him were hill sirres, and there was no breeze to stir their acacia-like leaves. Bright crimson flowers burst forth from the parass trees, which, when in full bloom, are a wondrous sight. He heeded none of these things, for he was hastening to the temple of Shiva to see Paroes the Brahmin.

On his way he passed a small shrine almost hidden amidst a mass of dense growth ; it was sacred to the goddess who protects the herds and the flocks, and those who tend them, and he stopped before it for a moment, making curious signs.

Shiva's temple was some considerable distance from his small habitation, but he was accustomed to long journeys on foot, and seldom wearied. He went at a jog trot, his loose loin cloth hampering him not at all. He was almost naked. When not on duty at Evermore he discarded all superfluous clothing. His bare arms were long and sinewy, and his fingers stretched out like talons ; he swung them backwards and forwards as he moved.

At the end of the path he followed was a high mound, and on it stood the temple. He saw it faintly outlined, and slackened his speed, a look of fear coming into his face.

The Hindoo temple was built almost in the shape of a mosque of an unpretentious kind. It had three minarets over the front, and a dome in the centre. The doorway appeared to have been cut out of the solid building ; it was narrow, tall, pointed at the top. Huge trees overshadowed the place, and there was a cavern close beside it, going far into the rock. A small lake was near at hand, on the borders of which were large mango trees, and on its surface many hued water plants.

Abdool stopped, listening. The silence was profound ; Shiva's temple rested in a peaceful spot.

Cautiously pushing open the curiously made wooden gate he entered the small enclosure in which the temple stood. He approached the door timidly, and when he reached it, paused ; then bracing himself, he pushed it slightly open, peering in. At the end of the temple sat enthroned a hideous black idol, half man, half woman, with five heads, and a glaring eye in the centre head's forehead, which seemed to pierce him through as he looked at it, with a shiver. On either side of the great idol were two smaller figures, and in front of each of these was a white bull hewn out of stone. A necklace of skulls hung suspended from the chief god's waist, and a serpent was coiled about his neck. A deer skin and a tiger skin were spread out in front of him, and on these were placed kneeling stools. On either side of the temple were figures of demons, whose grinning heads were terrible to look upon. There were no signs of wealth in Shiva's temple ; the offerings of the worshippers were well taken care of by the priest. A fight was burning close to the idol, and shed a faint glimmer on the glistening black figure.

Abdool walked down the centre of the temple, crossed to the left, then to the right, and eventually signing himself, bowed down in front of the idol. A low murmuring sound commenced to echo through the temple, and the large eye of Shiva flashed fire.

As Abdool prostrated himself the eyes of Paroes were fixed upon him from his place of concealment behind the god. There was an unholy light in them, keen, penetrating, and the face of the priest worked strangely, his mouth twitching, and his nostrils extending.

He came forward and stood behind Abdool, who heard him not. Paroes the Brahmin was a man of medium height, well formed, and strongly built. His skin was a pale golden olive, and he was almost as light in colour as Raja Ranji. The weather being hot, he wore a loin cloth only, which hung below his knees in graceful folds. Round his neck, thrown over the shoulder, was the sacred thread of his Order. His face was intelligent, but the sensual look in it spoiled him ; he was dreaded by the women who had female children : they shuddered at his approach.

For some minutes he stood over Abdool, then he touched him on the shoulder, and he rose with a sharp spring, uttering a cry of fear.

Paroes smiled wickedly, and beckoned him to follow. They went into a small room at the rear of the idol. On the floor were carpets soft to the tread, and gaudy cushions, also a table of Indian workmanship, and writing materials.

" You have come alone," said Paroes.

Abdool signified that such was the case.

" How long must I wait ? " asked Paroes.

" Will nothing less suffice ? "

" Nothing ! "

Abdool wrung his hands, and his face betrayed his anguish.

" To the priest of Shiva no offering can be too great."

" I will give you much ; but this I cannot do."

Paroes' eyes gleamed, and a hissing sound came from the mouth of the idol.

" Look," said the Brahmin, pointing to the black monster.

Abdool started back in horror. The idol's eye was red and glowing, his tongue protruded, and steam came out of his great mouth. The unfortunate man trembled in every limb, and sank on to his knees helplessly, his head bowed before the angry spirit, as he thought, waking within the god.

" Beware the wrath of Shiva," said Paroes.

Abdool clutched the priest's loin cloth, and said piteously —

" She is thine. I offer her to the god through thee, the holy priest of Shiva."

At once the sound ceased, and the idol resumed its normal look.

" See, you have done well," said Paroes, and Abdool gave a sigh of relief. The least he had expected was to be smitten down where he stood.

The Brahmin was clever. He had seen life in Calcutta until for reasons best known to himself he had left the city and hidden himself in this village temple. He was educated ; had a knowledge of Europeans and their manners, all of which assisted him to terrorise the natives, and even work his will upon such men as the jamadar of Evermore. What he knew made him doubly dangerous, and his inventions in connection with the idol assisted him materially. Many of the ideas connected with his religion were of great beauty, but strangely mingled with voluptuous thoughts, and every manner of selfindulgence.

Paroes saw Krishna and coveted her. To him she was the one desirable thing to possess. Her beauty attracted him, and he set to work to obtain his desire. To the girl herself he had seldom spoken. Two or three times she had come to the temple with Abdool, but something in his look frightened her, and she remained away. He worked upon the father, first by teaching him things that had hitherto been hidden from him, and subtly winning him to himself, giving him to understand the blessings he could bestow upon him in this world, and in the next.

Gradually he accustomed Abdool to regard the surrender of Krishna to himself as a devout act, telling him that through him the girl would be honoured by being given to the god. What more could be desired for her ; it was a fate the proudest woman in all India might envy

Abdool considered the matter : he even mentioned it to Krishna in glowing terms, but the girl recoiled from the proposal with such horror that his purpose wavered. Krishna was the light of his eyes. She was beautiful, and he was proud of her. If she subjected herself to Paroes she might become a goddess, and in his flight of imagination he hardly dared think what honours were in store for her. He spoke to her again, and this time she blazed forth in anger, and cursed Shiva, Paroes, and all his gods, until Abdool's teeth chattered for very fear of what might befall her.

He placed the whole matter before Paroes, who at first used mild persuasion, of which he soon tired ; then he tried threats, and eventually worked upon his superstitions.

He hated the girl because she despised and rejected him, and his hate fanned his love into a red hot flame. Krishna must be his ; he vowed it before his god.

All the surroundings of the temple of Shiva were calculated to impress such a man as Abdool. The Brahmin talked to him in the sacred building, reasoning with him, pointing out his duty, showing him the way to eternal happiness.

The last time he left Paroes, Abdool had returned home with his mind fully made up, and hot from the weird scene he spoke -out to Krishna. He succeeded in frightening the girl, and she fled to Raja Ranji for comfort and protection. The Sahib was mighty and powerful, a real burra sahib, and in him was hope. He had often seen Krishna and admired her ; she was so different to the other women. When she hinted at her fears he flew into a towering rage, and she ran away from him terrified. Never before had she seen the quiet Sahib in such a mood ; it was new to her, and she had caused it.

But she came again and again, unknown to Abdool, and when he was with Paroes she once more crept to Raja Ranji's side.

When Abdool left the temple Paroes said —

" Be cunning ; do not frighten her. I will give you time, but she must come to me before many weeks are past. There is a great honour in store for her, and much joy for you."

" She shall be persuaded," said Abdool, as he thought of the angry god inside.

Abdool hastened home, from time to time glancing fearfully behind, expecting something, he knew not what, to happen. His interview with the priest had subdued him. He was conquered. He reasoned with himself that the fate in store for Krishna was a holy one, and that she would reap everlasting benefit thereby. He had seen the wrath of the god, and how it was appeased, and knew from this what Paroes demanded was right.

The wily Brahmin anticipated this frame of mind in him, and knew it would work best for his ends.

Krishna reached her home before him, and when he entered she saw from his face something unusual had happened.

Abdool, however, bore in mind what Paroes said, and determined to say nothing at present. He had been given a few weeks, and in that time he might devise some means of overcoming her objection.

Krishna wondered at his silence, and curiosity prompted her to find out what had happened at the temple. Her efforts were unavailing. Abdool kept silent, and bid her hold her tongue. What was the meaning of it ? Had he defied Paroes, dared him to do his worst ?

She slept well that night, thinking something had happened in her favour. The figure of the priest rose before her mind, and she contrasted him with the Sahib.

Krishna was young, and in India youth develops quickly into womanhood. She had Raja Ranji for a second father, but that was not how she thought of him. Had her father come to her with a proposal to hand her over to Raja Ranji she would have gone willingly to his bungalow, waited upon him with joy in everything, worshipped him, and made him her all. She would have seen nothing wrong in being the constant companion of Raja. Was not her father his jamadar ? then why should she not be his handmaiden, and wait upon his every want ? If her father managed out of doors, there was no obstacle to her doing the same inside, if the Sahib so willed.

Krishna was unlike all the native women at Evermore, and she was aware of it. Sometimes she wondered why it was so, but she was very glad to have been cast in a different would. Her intelligence was much quicker and keener than theirs, her mode of speech was different. They knew and recognised it . The j amadar's daughter was regarded with respect, and she accepted their acknowledgment of her superiority as her right. The women of the villages saw what Krishna did not see. They recognised her as the favourite of the Sahib, and knew that meant the power, if she had the will, to work them good or ill.

Chapter III

Abdool was making his report to Raja ; he had several complaints, and rejoiced in them, prolonging his statement, giving minute particulars of everything ; time was no object to him, nor did it appear to be so to his listener. His voice was not unpleasant — the low, monotonous tone in which he spoke was soothing. Sometimes it irritated Raja, exasperated him ; but to-day he was in a patient mood. There had been a row in one of the villages : blows had been struck, and one woman was bewitched. It arose from a simple cause, the purloining of poultry. The ryot is a born thief. The thief had been dis-r covered, the fowl had been tampered with, and the wife of the stealer had fallen ill. It was the jamadar's opinion that the original owner of the fowl deserved punishment for bewitching the wife of the thief.

Raja saw the matter in a different light, and was of opinion the thief deserved all the trouble that had overtaken him ; he had no right to steal the fowl.

" But she is bewitched by him," said Abdool ; " the theft is nothing to that."

Raja promised to adjudicate upon the matter, and Abdool proceeded with his complaint about the laziness of the coolies, who shirked their work, and drew their pay.

" Point the men out to me when they come for their coppers to-night," said Raja. Then he asked carelessly —

" Where were you going last night ? You were out late."

" The Sahib saw me!" exclaimed Abdool astonished.

Raja nodded, waiting for an answer.

" I went to the temple," said Abdool, who thought it best to speak the truth, although he had no liking for the turn the conversation had taken.

" You are a pious man, but why go at night ? "

" When the work is done is the time for prayer."

" An excellent precept," laughed Raja, " but you do not always carry it out. Your piety has increased of late, you make many visits to Shiva's temple."