BBHBH 
 
THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 
ON THE BOKDEKLAND. 
 
 BY 
 
 FREDERICK BOYLE, 
 
 AUTHOB OF " LEGENDS OF MY BUNGALOW," " THE GOLDEN PRIME," 
 "CAMP NOTES," &C. &C. &C. 
 
 LONDON : CHAPMAN AND HALL, 
 LIMITED. 
 
 1884. 
 
 ( All rights reserved.} 
 
WESTMINSTER : 
 
 NICHOLS AND SONS, PRINTERS, 
 
 25, PARLIAMENT STREET. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 A STRANGE WOOING 1 
 
 THE EOMANCE OF A MIRAGE . . . . . . . .27 
 
 LYING IN WAIT . .64 
 
 WHY CAPTAIN KAWDON DID NOT GO TO THE WAR . .70 
 
 SEPOY AND ARAB 99 
 
 CAPTAIN WRENCH'S ILLUSION 113 
 
 COURAGE : A CHAPTER OP EXPERIENCE .... 147 
 
 A KAFFIR TOAD . 163 
 
 A STICK 194 
 
 A POPO BEAD 213 
 
 A SAPPHIRE 234 
 
 A WOMAN'S KNIFE 253 
 
 A CARPET 273 
 
 A CROSS ' . ' . . 294 
 
 SOME FINGER-GLASSES 314 
 
 PERSONAL LIBERTY IN ISLAM 332 
 
 A PUMA BUG 353 
 
 A BIT OF AN OLD STORY 374 
 
 A BUNDLE OF PHOTOGRAPHS . 898 
 
 M3I3704 
 
ON THE BOBDEBLAND. 
 
 A STRANGE WOOING. 
 
 I DARE not precisely name the scene of this story. 
 Somewhere betwixt the tropics stands a mud-built 
 ruinous town, very mean, dirty, and unwholesome. Low 
 green hills and woods lie behind it, and a grey sea before. 
 In times not long past fleets used to ride beyond the 
 surf, and rich caravans started daily for the inland wilds. 
 That glory has departed, but its ruins amaze the stranger 
 to-day. Amidst the ragged, sun-bleached thatch of negro 
 hovels, lofty walls stand red and crumbling, with win- 
 do wless eyes that blink towards the ocean. Down at 
 the water's edge, built upon rocks that clang and strain 
 under the beating of the surf, stands a castle. The 
 guns are honeycombed, the pavements broken, the walls 
 
 B 
 
2 ON THE BOKDERLAND. 
 
 bear a crop of jungle-weeds; but it rises hoar and stately, 
 a marvel of antique grandeur. Neither time, nor siege, 
 nor tempest have reft one solid stone from another. 
 When storms roll high the thundering surge without, a 
 rainbow spans its seaward front ; when winds lie hushed 
 of an afternoon, and the rocks burn white, its lofty keep 
 and surrounding galleries throw a giant shadow on the 
 strand. 
 
 The jungle has crept in steadily and softly. Lank 
 goats and sheep of peculiar breed graze in the streets. 
 Through the middle of the town a ditch, half-dry, slug- 
 gishly oozes and reeks between embankments of ancient 
 masonry a foul ditch, though mantled with velvet 
 rosettes of pistia. They catch wild beasts of prey 
 therein creatures that make night clamorous pursuing 
 scared poultry and belated lambs. But amongst the 
 ragged palms and dusty india-rubbers ten or twelve great 
 houses still tower above the wilderness of thatch ; outside 
 they have high garden- walls and big gateways; within, 
 cool colonnades and balconies, parqueterie floors, and the 
 rest of it. Most of them are tenanted by officials, but 
 the impoverished heirs still occupy a few. Amongst 
 those who keep the family mansion is a widow named 
 Rudger. Her late husband had been a clerk, with whom 
 his master's daughter fell in love. She was a half-caste, 
 but her yellow hand brought Rudger this house and a 
 business not yet wholly destroyed by the vigilance of our 
 
A STRANGE WOOING. 6 
 
 cruisers and the competition of younger settlements. 
 The lady bore two daughters, and then, after several 
 years' interval, a third. The circumstances of the family 
 were still such as enabled Rudger to send the eldest girls 
 away to school when they reached the proper age. But 
 he died whilst little Mary was still too young to go from 
 home, and the widow's resources scarcely availed to pay 
 for the girls whose education was begun. Perhaps Mrs. 
 Rudger's grief was not unconsoled when she saw Mary 
 could not have foreign schooling. " The family," of 
 course, should be in a position to meet any rival, whether 
 at the counting-house or the piano; but Mrs. Rudger 
 may very well have thought that learning is a great 
 expense to parents and a great trouble to children. She 
 herself had been brought up among slaves. Her English 
 was shaky, and she had never been able to read what 
 she did not know by heart. Yet her success in life had 
 been notable she had married a young man a all white," 
 who never complained; Mary, a quadroon, with double 
 her share of the superior race, might do as well, or 
 better. 
 
 Mrs. Rudger naturally overlooked certain differences 
 in the situation. Her own mother had felt for her child 
 that respect which the negress instinctively yields to 
 white or semi* white blood, though it be in what is else 
 her own flesh. She resented familiarity in nurses and 
 slaves towards her daughter, took counsel with her hus- 
 
 B2 
 
4 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 band, and insisted that the girl's manners, if not her 
 mind, should be pure white. And so the girl grew up 
 quiet and demure, resembling the usual pattern of a 
 young lady as much as circumstances would allow. No 
 one would have suspected that her brain was full of 
 charms and fetishes, omens, love-philtres ; that she feared 
 Obi, loved a negro song, a negro tale, all that is negro 
 in ethics; that the principles and even the pleasures of 
 civilized life were never appreciated, though endured. 
 A veneer of training hid these impressions whilst her 
 husband lived, but they worked through it as she grew 
 older, and the necessity of restraint disappeared. 
 
 Little Mary however had no such influences about her 
 as had her mother at the same age. The negresses took 
 sole charge, and they moulded her spirit after their own. 
 It chanced that there were no white children then in the 
 settlement, and the household fell more and more into 
 native habits. Arrayed in garments many-coloured, of 
 the latest fashion which had reached that distant spot, 
 Mrs. Rudger paid occasional calls, or sometimes gave a 
 tea-party. The bright-eyed little girl was her companion, 
 in silk stockings, flounces, and feathered hat. But on 
 returning from these duties the mother donned an ample 
 dressing-gown with nothing underneath, decked her 
 head and arms with jewellery, and received native ladies 
 for pleasure. The daughter meanwhile played with the 
 slave children of the household, in the shortest of petti- 
 
A STRANGE WOOING. 5 
 
 coats for her only raiment less than that sometimes 
 and thus she received, unconsciously as they were given, 
 such ideas of life's philosophy as a self-indulgent, lazy, 
 but not ill-disposed race of negroes entertain. 
 
 In the state to which such training would lead a girl, 
 the sisters found her. They returned from school young 
 women, and Mary was eight years old. Severe disci- 
 pline, in an old-fashioned seminary of Cape Town, had 
 made them thrifty, pious, and proper. Every single 
 thing and person at home shocked them terribly. The 
 saucy slave-girls, three parts naked, but laden with gold 
 ornaments; the noisy men still more lightly clothed; 
 the dirt, the untidiness, made them bitterly ashamed.* 
 But worst of all was the degradation, as they called it, 
 of their mother and sister. The girls had been not a 
 little impressed by Mrs. Rudger's grandeur when she 
 came on board to welcome them; for their notions of 
 dress or taste were scarcely more correct than hers. 
 They vowed, as did all present, that Mary was a little 
 angel disguised in silk stockings and flounces. But on 
 reaching the big, shabby house, they saw with dismay 
 the usual transformation. Mrs. Rudger jumped out of 
 her stays, so to speak, and the little angel abandoned all 
 her disguises. It was too early yet to interfere. The 
 .good sisters wept and prayed that night. 
 
 * In this country the mistress of the household takes pride in 
 adorning her female slaves with all the jewellery which she cannot 
 dispose on her own person. 
 
6 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 No later than the morning they attacked the system. 
 Mrs. Rudger gave way at once, agreed, lamented, pro- 
 mised but never performed. Mary's condition, moral 
 and spiritual, proved to be worse than the worst they 
 had expected. She could neither read nor write nor 
 speak English, beyond a few common expressions and a 
 few sentences of the Catechism, to which she attached 
 no meaning. Mrs. Rudger herself was alarmed and 
 angry to learn the result of her neglect. It disgraced 
 " the family." Going to the other extreme, she would 
 have the child metamorphosed all round in an instant. 
 And the child stubbornly refused. Whence it happened 
 that, within twenty-four hours of her sisters' arrival, 
 Mary was sobbing in bed, very sore, and full of evil 
 passions. She tried to run away, but the faithless slaves 
 betrayed her. More punishment followed, and, in short, 
 the girl was whipped into submission. 
 
 But the change was all outside. The sisters could not 
 keep her perpetually in view, and old companions crept 
 in at the window, waylaid her in corners, and kept the 
 spirit of savagery aglow. The excellent Misses Rudger 
 were by no means fitted to change such a disposition. 
 Mary longed for the time when she would be too old for 
 the rod, and meanwhile she cherished hatred, always 
 growing, against white people and their ways. The 
 moment of resistance came earlier than might have been 
 expected. Her sisters, so long removed from the climate 
 
A STRANGE WOOING. 7 
 
 of their birthplace, withered under ceaseless fits of fever. 
 Her mother, satisfied with the progress made, stood 
 neutral. And Mary was a strong fearless girl in her 
 teens. She resisted the chastisement, and won a victory. 
 
 From that day the old life was renewed. Learning 
 was not to be shuffled off, but clothes and habits might. 
 The sisters, in despair, tried the influence of tears, but 
 it was too late. Possibly entreaties might have been 
 successful once ; but, coming after severity, they could 
 but raise contempt. After a time, everything was 
 yielded, in shame and sorrow. For many months after 
 her triumph, Mary refused to touch a book, to speak 
 English, even to wear anything besides the native petti- 
 coat. Amusement unceasing was found in the sports 
 and gossip so long disused. The courtyard was always 
 full of girls, who laughed and shrieked from morning to 
 night. The Misses Rudger could understand not a tithe 
 of the loud conversation, which was lucky for their 
 peace; not that Mary would choose or tolerate vicious 
 companions. Her friends were the best of their kind, 
 but they spoke with the frankness of savages who live 
 always in a crowd together, and have not two words for 
 a spade. But I cannot honestly profess to think that 
 they did Mary real mischief. The bloom of a peach 
 is very pretty ; but the fruit is as sweet and pure 
 without it. 
 
 After awhile Mary tired somewhat of her freedom. 
 
8 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 The earliest feelings of womanhood began to stir. 
 Romping with other girls no longer satisfied her wholly. 
 Once more she read a little, shamefacedly, and in private. 
 Then she could be persuaded sometimes to dress, and 
 visit such friends of the family as were " coloured " like 
 herself. For years she would not willingly speak with a 
 white woman, and the suggestion of meeting a white 
 man would drive her back into barbarism. The sisters 
 had learned some tact by experience, and they gradually 
 brought her through this stage. But it was well under- 
 stood in the settlement that the youngest Miss Rudger, 
 when met by chance, was not to be addressed of male- 
 kind. 
 
 Mary was near eighteen years old when the town 
 where she dwelt became our base of operations for a 
 short but anxious war. At the house where I was 
 quartered the Misses Rudger were intimate, and I soon 
 met the elder pair. But my gentle hostess feared, above 
 everything, lest Mary should be noticed and turned to 
 ridicule by supercilious subalterns. When the troops 
 began to arrive, she tried her utmost to keep the girl 
 at home, but a further development now showed itself. 
 Abating none of her angry shyness for mankind of white 
 persuasion, she much fancied looking at handsome young 
 officers, who were frequent enough in the streets. She 
 wished only to see them ; if they looked at her, as well 
 they might, she trembled with passion. Never had 
 
A STRANGE WOOING. 
 
 the girl worn clothes so often, or so many hours at a 
 
 time. It is true, as Mrs. told me afterwards, with 
 
 a blush and a laugh, that she tore them off more fiercely 
 than ever on returning indoors, and vowed that each 
 walk should be the last. But nature had its way. It 
 was accident which gave me at length the pleasure of a 
 very brief acquaintance. A West Indian regiment was 
 
 landing, and Mrs. , my hostess, had gone to see the 
 
 show. I had returned, and I was sitting, very drowsy, 
 in a long-armed chair on the verandah. Suddenly I 
 became conscious of a fresh young voice, talking eagerly, 
 
 and Mrs. replying. I gathered that the one asked 
 
 if I was at home, and the other said no. It was my duty 
 to undeceive them, but whilst thinking of it I dozed off. 
 The same voice, much nearer, roused me again. In the 
 prettiest of broken English, it was vehemently lauding 
 the uniform of the West Indians a burst of yellow, 
 scarlet, and blue, which only a pyrotechnist or a negro 
 could dispassionately admire. 
 
 " And what did you think of the officers?" asked 
 Mrs. . 
 
 '* Oh, beautiful ! Fine men ! How brave they look ! 
 And some of them will be dead ! " The tones were so 
 sweet and earnest that I remember imagining a face to 
 match dark eyes, wide with' pity, a soft mouth droop- 
 ing, and little hands outspread for emphasis. 
 
10 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 " What ! all handsome men?" asked shrewd Mrs. , 
 
 laughing. " Surely not, Mr. Blank ? " 
 
 " Oh, not Mr. Blank ! " 
 
 "Nor Mr. other Blank?" 
 
 " Not that one, of course, either." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! Then which of the officers was so 
 beautiful and so brave ? " 
 
 This seemed the last moment for decorous eavesdrop- 
 ping. Yawning loudly, I pushed back my chair, came 
 into view of the window, lit a cheroot, and entered with 
 all the surprise I could cdmmand. The ladies were 
 taking tea ; the younger, in fact, had suddenly buried in 
 the cup as much of her face as would enter that recep- 
 tacle. Upon Mrs. 's flurried introduction, she rose 
 
 and primly curtseyed, after the fashion of Cape Town 
 ladies in the last century. I saw a girl, very pretty, 
 tall, and delicately shaped. The negro strain showed 
 itself in crisply waving hair unglossed, dark complexion, 
 and full, tremulous mouth. Miss Rudger had in its 
 utmost beauty that velvet eye which is peculiar to the 
 mixed breed. Neither white woman nor negress ever 
 shows it. Those who have not seen a mulatto girl of 
 the happiest type cannot imagine what is meant by 
 velvet eyes. It is less a matter of expression than of 
 shade, tone, feature. Mary did not lose it when she 
 positively scowled at me with bewitching ferocity. Her 
 
A STRANGE WOOING. 11 
 
 face was crimson, her lips quivered with anger and shy- 
 ness. Vainly I tried to make her speak. To the extreme 
 annoyance of Mrs. , she would not reply, and I with- 
 drew as quickly as I could. My hostess then reproached 
 her gently, and the girl's temper blazed. She rushed 
 home, threw off muslins and laces, and vowed she would 
 seek a friend no more among the hateful whites. 
 
 The sisters came moaning to our house. They doated 
 
 on Mary, wild little savage as she was. Mrs. , 
 
 scarcely less fond, sought her out. It was no use. The 
 hint of a suspicion of a confidence which a natural enemy 
 a white man might have heard, was enough to set 
 the child's brain going. She collected her little negress 
 friends, and renewed the old racket. 
 
 " At least," said Mrs. at length, " be persuaded 
 
 to wear proper clothes." 
 
 " These are good enough for me," Mary sullenly 
 replied. " I do not wish to be white girl." 
 
 " But, darling, there are soldiers everywhere now. 
 You will certainly be seen." 
 
 61 I am just as much dressed as any of my real friends. 
 They are not ashamed if soldiers see them. I don't 
 understand." 
 
 But Mrs. knew that she did understand, and 
 
 persisted for sheer pride and temper. Mary would not 
 appear in the courtyard until she saw the gates closed. 
 
 The West Indian regiment which had indirectly 
 
12 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 caused these regrettable events was quartered in the 
 castle. 
 
 I spent some pleasant evenings at mess there, the 
 guest of a young lieutenant, whom I will call Pickering. 
 A good soldier he was, and a good fellow, but one of 
 those whom competitive examination does not dis- 
 tinguish. Failing even for the line, he accepted a West 
 Indian commission rather than none. By family and 
 fortune Pickering had the influence which can always 
 help a man in the field, though useless in the "piping 
 times." A brigadier named him " galopper," and so 
 he escaped the garrison duty on which his regiment was 
 kept back. The advance was expected from day to day, 
 and Pickering hurriedly sent his traps to the general's 
 quarters. He himself followed after tiffin. Perhaps the 
 vin du depart had been copious ; perhaps the sun was 
 bewilderingly hot; anyhow, Pickering lost himself, at 
 an hour when no one but the poorest negroes stir abroad. 
 He wandered, angry and desperate, until he came across 
 a house evidently European. Throwing himself against 
 the crazy doors he burst them open. A bevy of native 
 girls playing about the yard ran together and screamed. 
 Pickering took no notice of them, but walked towards 
 the staircase, which, as usual, opened on the court. So 
 my friend says, and has said from the beginning. But 
 malicious gossip declared that he ran straight into the 
 arms of Miss Mary Rudger, who was attired in her usual 
 
A STRANGE WOOING. 13 
 
 simplicity. I think that the truth lies betwixt these 
 stories. Mary was present, but her comrades shielded 
 her from sight. 
 
 Pickering marched upstairs, and presented himself 
 before the maiden sisters. Their confusion is not to be 
 told, but they gave him a guide and sent him on his 
 way. Next day there was tremendous activity amongst 
 the purveyors of scandal. By breakfast-time every 
 mess was laughing at the adventure. But my hostess 
 was really alarmed. Hurrying to Mrs. Rudger's house, 
 she found the lady raving. This public disgrace had ' 
 outraged all the pride which a mulatto takes in respecta- 
 bility. She had knocked Mary down with a rolling-pin, 
 
 or some implement of that nature, and Mrs. found 
 
 the poor girl in bed, her forehead bound with dirty 
 towels, and she anxious to die and end the miseries of 
 existence. 
 
 Between the infuriated parent, who vowed she would 
 resume the discipline of the rolling-pin, and the maiden 
 sisters weeping helplessly, Mary's condition was pitiable. 
 
 Mrs. begged to have her for a while, and the 
 
 mother, in consenting, loudly hoped that she would never 
 return. The girl was brought to our house in a covered 
 hammock. I saw little of her. In those last few days 
 every one was busy. War ousted Woman. 
 
 We marched up the country; we fought some battles; 
 we marched down again, and re-embarked. Whilst 
 
14 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 leave-taking, dining, and giving to dinner, I was scarcely 
 more than conscious of our pretty visitor. She sat very 
 prim and still, dressed to the chin and the knuckles. So 
 the time passed, mostly consumed in bed and banquet. 
 For in those six anxious months every one had contracted 
 obligations of friendship which he hastened to pay. 
 
 When my own departure was fixed, Mr. and Mrs. 
 
 would not be outdone by the military. They invited 
 the chaplain and the judge, the chiefs of police and 
 customs, the doctor, all the civil authorities. 
 
 The night before, I dined with Pickering's regiment. 
 Witticisms carefully stored and polished in our absence 
 descended on his guiltless head. Themes for laughter 
 were few in that dreary garrison. " For heaven's sake/' 
 he cried, u let me see this young lady ! Where does 
 one meet her?" On learning that she was resident in 
 my quarters, he begged me to present him, and I promised, 
 
 with great hopes of fun. On asking Mrs. 's leave 
 
 to introduce a friend at the banquet, it was granted 
 without inquiry. We descended so soon as my servant 
 said that Mary had entered the drawing-room. Very 
 soldierly and handsome Pickering looked, in his mess- 
 jacket and white trousers, as I led him up to Mrs. . 
 
 She gave me a look of reproach when I named him. 
 Mary, who was beside her, would not even glance at us, 
 but sat red and panting, a lovely little fury. Pickering 
 took a place by her, and chatted gaily, asking no reply. 
 
A STRANGE WOOING. 15 
 
 And when dinner was served he calmly appropriated 
 her, talking all the while. Mary trembled with anger, 
 but did not know how to resist. 
 
 If the youth's conduct was rather fast, the girl's was 
 worse than rude. She gave him neither word nor look, 
 though he was very pleasant and respectful. She would 
 have changed her face to that of a Gorgon if she could > 
 but the powers would not aid, and it remained bewitch- 
 ingly pretty. Pickering nearly lost temper at her 
 
 obstinacy. When Mrs. began her small warnings 
 
 of retirement, he quietly said: " If people ask me the 
 colour of your eyes, I shall not be able to tell them." 
 No movement. " Is it not to be known of man? " No 
 answer. " Of course I shall never learn it now!" A 
 slight thrill of emphatic assent. "For you will run to 
 your room, jump into bed, and cry your eyes clean out ! " 
 If his dazzled gaze could distinguish, Pickering received 
 sudden enlightenment on the point at issue. But he 
 smiled sweetly, and whispered at the door, " I feel easier ! 
 You have not tears enough to quench those fires ! " 
 
 " She's charming!" he muttered, seating himself by 
 me " absolute perfection ! " 
 
 " All that? " I asked, laughing. 
 
 " Every single bit that you can imagine." 
 
 " What? You don't mean seriously " He nodded. 
 
 It was no business of mine. " You have a strange way 
 of wooing," I said. 
 
16 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 u The girl is strange, confoundedly, and the circum- 
 stances are not exactly familiar. I have to tame a little 
 wild-cat. It's something gained," he said, slowly filling 
 his glass, "that the prey will not escape whilst the 
 hunter takes well-earned refreshment/' I laughed. 
 " Bet you an even tenner that she is in the drawing- 
 room when we return, and that I make her speak? " 
 
 Done booked I lost! Certainly Pickering scored 
 his points cleverly. 
 
 In the drawing-room he leisurely approached, cup in 
 hand, and said aloud, " They declare, Miss Rudger, that 
 we have met before. I have given my word of honour 
 that we have not. I saw your sisters once, I believe, 
 but I could never have forgotten you." 
 
 All listened with amusement, saving Mrs. , who 
 
 blushed. There was a pause. 
 
 " I am not mistaken? " asked Pickering. 
 
 " Perhaps you did not see me," the girl murmured 
 painfully, yet not ill-pleased. 
 
 " I will vow I did not; and this is a subject on which 
 I'll permit no misapprehension in future." Then he sat 
 beside her, and I believe she spoke several times before 
 the evening finished. I know she smiled once, for I 
 remarked that her teeth were as pretty as all the rest of 
 her. 
 
 In the next three days Pickering was constantly about 
 the house. Mrs. and her husband liked the young 
 
A STRANGE WOOING. 17 
 
 fellow greatly, but lie seemed to make no progress in his 
 love affair. So it appeared to us, but he was so perfectly 
 content, that, when at length I sailed, an eccentric com- 
 mission was entrusted to me. Some days after my de- 
 parture in the cool of the afternoon, he called, Mrs. 
 
 was walking, but her husband received the visitor. 
 
 u I have just presented myself to Mrs. Rudger," he 
 began. 
 
 " A curious product of the country, isn't she ? " 
 
 "A type! If it were possible that old lady should 
 undertake a voyage to Europe, I could not marry her 
 daughter." 
 
 " What?" 
 
 " Love might run to it, but decency would forbid. 
 Where is my little savage ? " 
 
 *' What on earth do you mean ? " 
 
 " Oh, haven't you noticed that I am over head and 
 ears in love with Mary ? The mother smiles upon me. 
 I feel it yet ! " 
 
 " I don't doubt that you are serious and honourable," 
 
 exclaimed . " Allow me to say, that, if you win 
 
 this girl, you will have as brave and as good and as 
 modes t a wife as ever any lucky fellow gained." 
 
 " Yes I know but she is a desperate little savage." 
 
 Worthy proceeded in high excitement to deliver 
 
 his opinion. Pickering is not distinguished for endur- 
 
 c 
 
18 ON THE BORDERLAND. , 
 
 ance of platitude, and he yawned. " Thanks. You 
 are very good. I must do things my own wicked way." 
 
 Mrs. arrived with Mary, who coloured and 
 
 fumed. Pickering gravely advanced, seized her hand, 
 
 and addressed Mrs. : " I have asked Mrs. Rudger 
 
 to give me this young lady to wife. I think I know 
 her faults of temper and training, and they do not 
 frighten me. But you know her better. I cannot help 
 
 loving her; but if you, Mrs. , tell me that after no 
 
 time of probation shall I ever be proud to show my wife 
 to my mothers and sisters I retire ! " 
 
 It may be imagined with what a face Mary heard this 
 speech. So far as Pickering was concerned, she cared 
 not a jot for the verdict. But for her own self-respect 
 and womanhood she desired to hear, and waited, pale 
 and set, her unconscious hand resting in her lover's. 
 
 Mrs. hesitated, not in doubt of the sentence, but in 
 
 sheer surprise and bewilderment. Then she cried 
 heartily, "Mary is all good and pure, Mr. Pickering! 
 The man who wins her heart can make her mind what 
 he will. You it is, allow me to say so, whom I might 
 doubt." 
 
 Then, as was natural, Mary reasserted herself. Throw- 
 ing away the hand that clasped hers, she looked Picker- 
 ing in the face with even more wild-cat in her expression 
 than he had yet admired. 
 
A STRANGE WOOING. 19 
 
 " You are a rude and impertinent boy ! " And so 
 withdrew, as hot and indignant, as stately and as witch- 
 ing, as you please. Pickering laughed softly. 
 
 Of course she refused to see him, and wept when Mrs. 
 
 urged his claim to courteous treatment. He was 
 
 only mocking her besides, she hated him ! Live with 
 a white man, amongst " all white " people ! she would 
 die ! or rather, she would kill herself and everybody ! 
 He spoke of a mother and sisters, awfully white doubt- 
 less ! Oh, please, dear Mrs. , let her go back home, 
 
 if this must continue. She was a wicked girl naturally, 
 and something would happen if they teased her ! " Some- 
 thing will happen you " is a negro threat of mischief, 
 not to be disregarded. But Mrs. was not afraid. 
 
 Time went on, but Pickering's affairs did not progress. 
 Mary would not see him in the house, nor would stir 
 abroad. Exercise is not essential to creole comfort. But 
 in a month or so arrived a number of boxes to the address 
 of Lieutenant Pickering, which he forwarded to Mrs. 
 
 , keeping back only one. She, in the secret, asked 
 
 Mary to unpack them. All manner of pretty things 
 were there, which I had been commissioned to buy at 
 Funchal dainty dresses, hats, and shoes, and linen 
 simply and gracefully fashioned. The French modiste 
 in whom I confided had entered with enthusiasm into 
 our romance. Mary glowed with admiration, as box 
 
 C2 
 
20 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 after box displayed its girlish treasures. u Oh, how 
 pretty, pretty ! " she cried. 
 
 " Try this one, dear ! " said Mrs. - , " and this, 
 and this!" The girl tried them, and blushed, and 
 nearly cried. u What beautiful things white ladies 
 wear ! " she sighed, looking at her own bright image. 
 
 " Could you not bear to see Mr. Pickering, when you 
 are dressed like that ! '' asked Mrs. - softly. The 
 thought was not resented. Mary only said, " It is the 
 dress. My heart is not changed." 
 
 " Then let us bleach it ! " cried Mrs. 
 
 " The black colour does not go very deep ! " Mary 
 sighed, and began to take off the dress, with sad glances 
 at her mirror. Mrs. - saw the truth might be risked. 
 " The things are not sent for me, dear. You need not 
 disguise yourself again." 
 
 Mary's colour came and went. She looked an inquiry, 
 frowned, shivered a little, and began to cry. " It is 
 silly of him," she sobbed, " and wicked, when he knows 
 what I am." But there was no trouble in persuading 
 her to keep and wear the dresses. The concession, 
 which would have been difficult to obtain from a 
 modest English girl, was granted by this little savage 
 without one thought saving triumph and pleasure. She 
 did not understand that the giver might expect gratitude. 
 She felt no sense of obligation. A present descended, as it 
 
A STRANGE WOOING. 21 
 
 were, from heaven, and she caught it. That Pickering 
 should be concerned in the transaction was slightly irri- 
 tating, but of course it did not really matter. 
 
 Possessing a wardrobe such as never yet had been 
 aired in that settlement, Mary could not refrain from 
 displaying it. Here the artful youth had placed his 
 ambush. It need not be told how he gradually used the 
 girl to meeting him, until at length he earned a cus- 
 tomary right to escort her. His colonel strongly dis- 
 approved ; his brother officers ridiculed whilst they 
 envied him for theirs was a dreary life. But little 
 serious advance had been made even yet. If Mary lost 
 something of her shyness as weeks passed by, she lost 
 nothing of her mistrust. This shrewd lover perceived 
 that it was time to strike again. 
 
 One day he carelessly complained of headache and 
 sickness. Mary had heard with a cruel indifference of 
 other mishaps, but these symptoms alarmed her. It is 
 painfully droll to observe a mingling of pride with the 
 horror which African Creoles entertain towards their 
 native disease. It is the deadliest of non-epidemic 
 maladies, and it always strikes the white man seldom 
 themselves. To European science it is mysterious in 
 beginning, course, and termination, while their rude arts 
 conquer it ? or they think they do. These facts comfort 
 the negro and the Creole under their consciousness of 
 inferiority. The white man may be semi-divine, but 
 
22 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 the fever is his master ; the coloured man may be a dog, 
 but he masters the fever. I am not sure whether Mary 
 would have suffered agonies worth description if Picker- 
 ing had taken cholera; but this was a different case. 
 She displayed such a pretty interest and concern, that 
 the youth was almost tempted to rely on his own merits. 
 Luckily he resisted this impulse, and next day it was 
 announced that Lieutenant Pickering " had got the 
 fever." 
 
 The natural course of this horrid malady lends itself 
 to deception at the opening stages. Mary was not sur- 
 prised to see her lover waiting for the usual promenade, 
 pale and heavy-eyed, but able to take part in conversa- 
 tion. When he suddenly, languidly, put his arm round 
 her, and took a piteous kiss, she blushed very much, and 
 gently repulsed him, but felt no astonishment. It was 
 a bad sign only, and her eyes filled. After a melancholy 
 dinner with my late hosts, Pickering grew worse. His 
 glassy eyes began to shine, and he talked very fast. Mrs. 
 
 would not hear of his returning to the castle. She 
 
 and Mary would nurse him. When that young lady 
 added tearful entreaties, Pickering consented. If I have 
 rightly explained her feeling, it will be understood that 
 no extreme regard for the patient moved her. It was 
 the fever she would combat rather than the lover she 
 would tend. So a bed and things were brought, a room 
 prepared, and Pickering smoked and chuckled through 
 
A STRANGE WOOING. 23 
 
 half the night, whilst his hosts sadly recalled the number 
 of bright young fellows who had died, as he probably 
 would die. 
 
 But Nemesis will not be trifled with. Before dawn, 
 Pickering recognised with a cold thrill those pains which 
 he had simulated. Getting out of bed to rouse his 
 " boy," the agony of that movement made him groan. 
 The doctor came at once, and " exhibited blue-pill." 
 
 Mrs. , who knew so well the course of the disease, 
 
 was greatly surprised to find her patient back in its first 
 stage. He kissed Mary again when she entered the 
 breakfast-room, and she neither blushed nor repulsed 
 him. The counterfeit had not been suspected, but the 
 truth was manifest. The arm round her sought support, 
 the eyes that looked into hers had a wan pleading for 
 life besides love. Pickering had room for no emotions 
 save despair. Who was he to master and rule this fresh 
 young creature, so strong, so cool and collected ? He 
 took her hands in his where the veins already showed 
 blue, and the sun-dye had vanished in a single night; 
 he leaned his heavy head on her shoulder, and murmured 
 with tears, " Love me, Mary ! only say it, for I shall die 
 in two days! " 
 
 You think my friend's behaviour contemptible? I 
 do not draw on fancy. The African fever crushes a 
 man's soul before it rots his body. I recall no case in 
 my experience where the sufferer did not mourn his life, 
 
24 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 and die each moment in anticipation. No other disease 
 has this effect. We saw a hero, a giant of stature as of 
 courage, who cried like a sick girl as he went home to 
 take the guerdon of his bravery. He died in sight of 
 land. 
 
 But Pickering was not so evil-starred. He says now 
 that Mary's whisper saved him, untruthful as it was. 
 Days of pain and wretchedness unspeakable, followed by 
 weeks of impotent misery, reduced him to the likeness 
 of a tottering old man. But he never lost consciousness, 
 nor mistook his love signs that are fatal. A passion 
 which had been half-affected became absorbing; and 
 Mary felt the change. She saw that so soon as the sick 
 man recovered she must give him a serious answer. 
 Without telling herself what that should be, she wist- 
 fully studied Mrs. , and tried to learn her ways of 
 
 thought. When Pickering was pronounced to be out of 
 danger, she suddenly went home, and begged from her 
 sisters the instructions so long rejected. The lover 
 followed as soon as he could walk, but Mary would not 
 see him alone, nor would listen to his prayers. The 
 doctor ordered him to England, but he would not con- 
 sent to go. Mrs. brought them together at length 
 
 by stratagem. Mary was pale, but resolved. et I am 
 no proper person for you to marry ! " 
 
 " Let me decide that." 
 
A STRANGE WOOING. 25 
 
 " I cannot do so. There is your mother and the 
 rest." 
 
 11 They would adore you." 
 
 " It is absurd ! I am not white, I am ignorant, and 
 
 worse. Why you yourself " She had not courage 
 
 to finish the sentence on which she had placed great 
 faith. Sudden blushes choked her. 
 
 I?_oh! Well, if I didn't see you, it doesn't 
 matter; and if I did, you can marry no one but me " 
 
 Her tone changed. " Oh, please go away to England, 
 and never come back " 
 
 "Not unless you accompany me. I will never leave 
 this coast without you." 
 
 " But you will die ! The fever is returning even now. 
 You cannot be so wicked as to throw away your life." 
 
 " Suicide is a less crime than murder." 
 
 " Oh ! But you are not serious? " 
 
 " Look at me ! " Shyly she raised her eyes and let 
 them fall with a deeper blush. Her arguments all 
 exhausted, she tried to lash herself to anger, but the 
 wild-cat spirit was weakened. It vanished for ever in 
 the wrathful flash of her eye and the shrinking of her 
 lithe body as Pickering took her in his arms. He felt 
 it, and murmured in sad surprise, " You do not love me 
 at all then ? " 
 
 " I do not ! " Mary answered with emphasis. 
 
26 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 He let her go ; the tears of weakness and disappoint- 
 ment came into his eyes. The woman's heart in her 
 swelled. She came near, and took his arm, and whispered, 
 with her downcast head upon his breast ; ft It was true ! 
 
 But perhaps I think I may some time ! " 
 
 ***** 
 
 " But how can you possibly be married before the 
 steamer sails? " asked Mrs. in distress. 
 
 " There was another box from Funchal. Let us open 
 it while Mary is away." Everything needful was there, 
 
 from orange-blossoms to shoes. Mrs. exclaimed: 
 
 " How shall we deceive the child about the purchase of 
 these things? I don't believe there ever was such 
 impudence ! If Mary knew that her wedding-dress was 
 ordered within three days of your first meeting, she 
 would run into the bush again." 
 
 " Yes ! But see what a useful quality is conceit some- 
 times ! " 
 
 ***** 
 
 Pickering has exchanged into a cavalry regiment. 
 His wife is the sweetest, brightest, quaintest little lady 
 in the county. 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MIRAGE. 
 
 THE romances encountered in real life are dreadfully 
 sketchy and incomplete. It is the beet and most interest- 
 ing function of the imaginative writer to give true stories 
 shape rather than to build up fictions ; or so at least I 
 think, having no faculty of invention. The outline of a 
 tale which I am going [to fill in was given me by an 
 official of the Telegraph Service as we steamed one 
 morning across the blue bay of Suez. A slight mirage 
 lay beneath the glowing hills on the desert edge. I 
 observed that the phenomenon is nowhere so vivid as in 
 the South African veldt, according to my experience. 
 My companion's travels had not been so wide, though 
 much more profitable. But duty had kept him stationed 
 in many parts of the Egyptian desert, and he had 
 witnessed such surprising illusions as eclipse all I ever 
 saw or heard of. I suggested that a plain report of them, 
 coming from an authoritative person like himself, would 
 be valuable to science and most curious to the public. 
 
 Mr. Friar's modesty could not be brought to credit 
 
28 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 that any experience of his might be worthy of record, 
 but he told me what follows. 
 
 At one time Mr. Friar had charge of a station down 
 the Red Sea, lonely in the extremest sense of the word. 
 Himself, two native clerks, and two servants were the 
 only human beings within a radius of unknown length. 
 Bedouins did not come that way, for there is not a well 
 nor a green herb for many miles round. Once a month 
 a native vessel called to replenish the kegs and to bring 
 forage for Mr. Friar's horse and a pony belonging to one 
 of the clerks, Zohrab. If this supply did not arrive 
 within ten days of its appointed time, the standing 
 orders of the little colony enjoined them to embark and 
 leave the place. They had a boat for the purpose. 
 
 That station, Um el Jemal, was the home of mirage. 
 It displayed itself in every possible form, and in many 
 which would be thought impossible. Often, when they 
 turned out, the desert was a lively scene. Fishing craft 
 sailed in pellucid rivers; sometimes a great merchant- 
 ship or a man-o'-war appeared ; villages stood out dis- 
 tinctly, camels and caravans stalked along, men prayed 
 and marched. These visions changed from day to day. 
 Sometimes the fantastic became grotesque; animals and 
 men walked stolidly upside down, ships sailed in comfort 
 on their trucks. But one picture appeared always the 
 same, and very frequently. It flashed into sight directly 
 behind the station an ancient building of great size, 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MIKAGE. 29 
 
 castellated, with a broad terrace before its massive gate- 
 way. It did not glimmer into view, nor flicker in 
 vanishing, but burst on the eye complete, substantial, 
 remained about fifty minutes, and disappeared as sud- 
 denly. So distinct was this phantom castle that the 
 clerks knew each of its windows as familiarly as their 
 own. The terrace was often occupied by horses and 
 men, who presently walked out of the scene, melting 
 into air. The moment of disclosure, and the duration of 
 the spectacle, varied with the season and with other 
 circumstances doubtless; but this was most constant 
 of all the mirage pictures. Scientific people will regret 
 that my informant did not make precise observations 
 and note them down. Civilised men have seldom oppor- 
 tunity to watch a phenomenon of the kind which often 
 recurs. That there must be such is evident; several 
 others less conspicuous and less interesting haunted Um 
 el Jemal. 
 
 The gentleman of whom I speak is not a fanciful 
 person, and he had grave business to occupy his mind. 
 The clerks enjoyed more leisure. They were young; 
 and, though an Oriental scarcely understands what it is 
 to be bored, that composure is not caused by lack of 
 imagination. They took greater interest in watching 
 this apparition than their superior could have found, 
 since they understood much in it that would have 
 been a mystery to him. The spectral mansion was 
 
30 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 rather lively, as I have said. People came and went, 
 and the very unusual proportion who were robed all in 
 white, the frequent praying and preaching, told a political 
 secret. Wherever this fantastic house might be situate, 
 it was a haunt of the Wahabis, therefore a home of 
 treason and rebellion, and therefore one of the clerks 
 loved to observe it. When there were no visitors on the 
 terrace, donkeys often paraded there, equipped with such 
 housings as wealthy Arab ladies use. And presently 
 ladies mounted, their sex distinguishable, though they 
 sat astride, by trousers and veil, and the ugly, shapeless 
 ferijeh. These demoiselles or dames rode out, but they 
 never returned ; probably because the vision had dis- 
 appeared before they got back. It was evident that the 
 master of the house had a large harem. 
 
 About that personage the clerks could not make up 
 their minds. Upon the one hand they thought they 
 recognised him in a tall man who was present when the 
 females of the household came on the terrace, as 
 occasionally happened. It was deserted then, of course, 
 by all males excepting this individual, who sat beneath 
 the wall and smoked with some of the women, probably 
 the elders. Amongst the bevy playing round, several 
 were children and others quite young, as their lively 
 motions suggested. They approached the man familiarly. 
 One so privileged could only be the husband and father, 
 or the eunuch ; and the clerk's experience negatived this 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MIRAGE. 31 
 
 latter supposition. But, on the other hand, he wore a 
 black burnoos, coloured clothes beneath it, and a head- 
 handkerchief of the brightest tints. How should a 
 leader of Wahabis dress himself like that ? 
 
 Where this dwelling could be situate made a problem. 
 Mr. Friar himself found time to indulge a mild curiosity. 
 He looked up his maps and books, but they gave no sug- 
 gestion. There was actually no hint to guide conjec- 
 ture. Um el Jemal lies on the Arabian shore of the Ked 
 Sea, but the reflections in mirage came from every 
 quarter. They were ruled by certain laws, no doubt 
 immutable, like all of nature's framing; but what they 
 could be one was more puzzled to guess the longer one's 
 experience of them. The real boats, of which a phantom 
 was projected into the desert, must be sailing on the 
 west, or north-west, or south-west, if not on all these 
 points at once. But they stood in the picture among 
 trees and villages and caravans, which must be, the sub- 
 stance of them, in directions exactly opposite ; unless 
 indeed they were thrown across the Red Sea and the 
 Egyptian desert hundreds of miles from the westward. 
 It was mighty bewildering, and my friend gave it up. 
 
 His clerks knew nothing of science. Mirage was for 
 them a natural feature of landscape in this lower world. 
 But the number of Wahabis who frequented the house 
 told that it must lie in Arabia somewhere. The elder of 
 the two, a Mohammedan and discreet, did not want to 
 
32 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 know too much about a spot which was evidently the 
 haunt of rebels and heretics. But the younger. Zohrab, 
 was a fanatic patriot, though a Christian. He hated the 
 Wahabi schismatics almost as bitterly as they hate his 
 own creed, but he was reluctantly inclined to think, as 
 do so many, that the supreme foe, the Turk, will only 
 be expelled by the aid of these bloodthirsty desperadoes. 
 He watched the house where, as he fancied, a grand 
 conspiracy was brewing, until it haunted him. Mixing 
 up together war, patriotism, politics, romance, and love, 
 Zohrab constructed new tales of adventure on every recur- 
 rence of the mirage. He had made a very distinct indi- 
 viduality for the Sheikh, the man in the black burnoos. 
 He had given him a name and provided him with a 
 lovely daughter, Ferideh, whom after thrilling incidents 
 he himself married on the day that Arab independence 
 was proclaimed in Damascus, and fifty thousand Turks, 
 including the Sultan and all his Pachas, lost their heads. 
 Though Zohrab was educated in Frank learning he did 
 not understand mercy to the Ottoman. His most 
 cherished wedding present would have been the false 
 Khalifa head. 
 
 He was a Syrian of Beyrout and a Christian, as has 
 been said. I picture a tall, lithe youth, small of bone, 
 but muscular, with large eyes and a delicate moustache ; 
 in short, a hero after the school-girl fancy when amiable 
 and composed. An aesthetic barber would have longed 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MIRAGE. 33 
 
 for a model of Zohrab to exhibit in his shop window 
 had he seen him in that mood. But, if in conversation 
 somebody spoke well of the Turk, or alluded to the 
 great days past and the present degradation of the Arab, 
 this youth quivered and flamed like a war-horse tethered. 
 An Arab of pure blood is curiously like his steed in 
 peculiarities of nervous expression. A constant quiver 
 of the nostrils, an unconscious thrill of straining muscles, 
 an instant promptitude to take fire, are characteristic of 
 each. My portrait of Zohrab is but half fanciful, of 
 course; in drawing it I have before my eye a score of 
 models; amongst them, be it admitted with qualifica- 
 tions, that grandest of all savages I ever met, the Sheikh 
 'Mteyer, who betrayed his trust and did to death poor 
 Palmer and Gill and Charrington. But, if Zohrab was 
 like what that old traitor had been in youth, it was in 
 outward semblance only. 
 
 The stories he incessantly devised about the phantom 
 castle and its indwellers made pleasant fooling for Suley- 
 man and the servants. They had no other diversion, and 
 they loved a tale. But all the while Zohrab was trying 
 seriously to discover where dwelt the chief who was 
 plotting for the great cause who was also the father 
 of Ferideh ; for his imagination had so mixed the twe 
 threads of romance that they became one. From the 
 very first he had employed himself in urging the crew 
 of the supply-ship to make inquiries in all quarters ; had 
 
 D 
 
34 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 shown them the mirage, made a drawing of the castle, 
 with exhaustive notes, and offered a moderate reward. 
 The vessel hailed from Suf, a very small Arabian port, 
 which desert Bedouins seldom visited ; but it was the 
 only channel of communication with the world. The 
 Arabs were interested, of course, in a matter which had 
 the savour of magic; but for many succeeding months 
 they brought no suggestion that would bear scrutiny. 
 At length the Reis reported with delight substantial 
 news. A Bedouin, calling at Suf, recognised the sketch 
 at a glance. It represented El Husn, the fortress-palace 
 of Sheikh Abou '1 Nasr (Father of Victory), which lies 
 four days' journey across the desert from Suf. 
 
 With this fact in hand, the Reis asked no more. Who 
 had not heard of El Husn and the Sheikh Abou '1 
 Nasr? Every Arab is familiar with those names. Zohrab 
 had heard them often, and he asked particulars which 
 any of the crew could furnish, subject to correction. 
 The Sheikh had been a Wahabi in youth, and taken part 
 in the grand struggles which would have broken up the 
 Turkish empire had the fanatics been less tigerish, and 
 Ibrahim Pasha, the Arnaout, been less shrewd. After 
 the collapse of that great movement, the Sheikh Abou '1 
 Nasr retired to his fortress with his share of the spoils of 
 Mecca, Medina, and a hundred shrines plundered by 
 the Wahabis. When Ibrahim was preparing to follow 
 thither, Mehemet Ali recalled him for graver work. 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MIRAGE. 35 
 
 Abou '1 Nasr rested quiet awhile, maturing his plans, 
 and giving himself to the study of magic, in which he 
 was proficient beyond all men. When the Wahabis 
 recovered heart, he was ready, with patriotic devotion 
 unaffected, with treasure beyond counting, and supreme 
 wisdom. All Arab people consulted him as an oracle 
 of God. The Sheikh Abou '1 Nasr said, " Fight here ! 
 Remove that man ! Keep quiet there ! " and always, 
 when his command was followed, advantage ensued. 
 He had ceased to be a Wahabi, smoking and drinking 
 coffee, and doing what he pleased. The Arabs generally 
 thought none the worse of him for that ; and the 
 Wahabis, though in their hearts resenting his apostacy, 
 dared not quarrel with their great ally. 
 
 This detailed information stirred Zohrab to intense 
 excitement. His daily thought and nightly dream were 
 of visiting the Sheikh and offering his sword for freedom 
 and Ferideh. If the patriot chief were as tolerant as 
 rumour reluctantly declared, his creed would be no bar 
 to service. Whilst Zohrab was working himself up 
 to action, a resolve was precipitated by events. His 
 superiors invited him to join the Telegraph Service of 
 Egypt, and they made so sure of acceptance that they 
 despatched his successor the same day, giving Zohrab a 
 month to arrange his affairs. That decided him. When 
 the new clerk arrived by steamer, the supply-ship chanced 
 
 D2 
 
36 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 to be in port. Its return voyage carried this romantic 
 youth, his pony, and his carpet-bag to Suf. 
 
 Disguised as a well-to-do Arab of the lower class he 
 drew little notice. Suf is a miserable place, inhabited 
 by people calling themselves Bedouin, who live by fishing 
 and petty piracy. They also grow the most attenuated 
 crops recognised by science. But it is a central station 
 for feeding telegraph posts and lighthouses. A com- 
 pany of Turkish soldiers garrisons it, and a good 
 number of people, such as Zohrab seemed to be, is 
 drawn thither on business. He found his way to the 
 Medhafe, put up his pony, and visited the coffee-house 
 after a frugal meal. It was a horrid little den. windowless, 
 black all over with dirt and smoke. Coffee was dis- 
 pensed by a one-eyed negro, in cups that had not been 
 washed for months. Zohrab had fallen into English 
 ways so far, at least, that this return to native habits 
 sickened him. 
 
 An old officer came bustling in, and demanded papers; 
 he should have boarded the vessel, but he was asleep. 
 Zohrab assumed an air of dignity, and accompanied him 
 to the Medhafe. When the Captain read that this 
 stranger \?as an Effendi in Government employ he 
 became anxiously deferential awkward investigations 
 impending ! But Zohrab let it be understood that for 
 grave and secret purposes he was instructed to visit El 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MIRAGE. 37 
 
 Husn, and asked for a guide. The officer looked 
 startled. 
 
 " Every man in this accursed place knows the way 
 except my soldiers. The people are rebels and heretics 
 every one ! No guide would serve you without the 
 Sheikh's approval, and that perhaps you do not care to 
 ask publicly ? I thought not ! Then, if I ordered one 
 of these brutes to accompany you, I might as well send a 
 burying party as a rear guard." 
 
 " I could go alone if the road is easy." 
 
 " Easy enough, if you met no evil-minded persons. 
 You are acquainted with the Wahabi signs? No? Then 
 it is madness to proceed, EiFendi ! " 
 
 " We were told that the Sheikh had abandoned his 
 heresy." 
 
 " He? he's an infidel; may his father's name be 
 cursed ! But those who go back and forward to El Husn 
 are nearly all Wahabis, and it's fifty to one you come 
 across them." 
 
 " Can you not teach me the pass- words ? " 
 
 " Oh ! " said the Captain, suddenly blustering, " I've 
 not neglected that duty. Wahabis have taken me for 
 one of themselves Allah forgive my sin ! If you can 
 recollect all I teach you, EfFendi, there is no danger." 
 
 So Zohrab learned his part, carefully overhauled his 
 baggage, removing all that could raise suspicion, handed 
 it to the officer for keeping, and stretched himself upon 
 
38 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 the earth among the fleas. Then he stole away by 
 moonlight. The soldiers, warned, let him pass the gate. 
 
 The first stage was long, but easy and not dangerous. 
 Nevertheless to be alone in the desert is terrible. Not a 
 shadow in the landscape, save the traveller's own, which 
 his horse tramples wearily with shuffling, noiseless feet. 
 When the moon sank Zohrab dismounted, waiting the 
 dawn with his bridle in his hand. That is a solemn 
 pause, even if no danger threatens. The still night is 
 busy with sounds, soft and mysterious, high up in air. 
 They gather sometimes for a rush as of a mighty wind, 
 but no breath stirs. Then from the darkness comes a 
 sudden clang, ringing and souorous, that makes the 
 lonely watcher start to his arms. Zohrab had never 
 known or had forgotten the rustling murmur of sand- 
 grouse taking their early flight in thousands; the signals of 
 wild geese and the sharp, metallic cry of zikzak plovers. 
 Um el Jemal was too barren even for those strong fliers. 
 
 The dawn broke at last, and he resumed his way, 
 followed it whilst the sun climbed higher and higher 
 and pressed down on him like liquid heat. The sand- 
 hills rolled away on either side so smoothly mono- 
 tonous that their crests blended into one another, and 
 the world seemed flat. No landmarks but the crags on 
 the horizon, at whose feet the mirage glistened. The 
 vegetation was all burnt and sapless, showing the sand 
 through its spiky, brittle twigs. No colour there but 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MIRAGE. 39 
 
 greys and browns and dusty yellows; but now and again 
 a bone gleamed white, and Zohrab's high-strung nerves 
 regarded it with a prescient thrill. 
 
 It was noon when he reached the termination of this 
 stage. The pious soul who dug or restored a muddy, 
 blessed puddle here had been commemorated by a Wely ; 
 but the Wahabis had passed that way, and, after drink- 
 ing, had overthrown their benefactor's modest shrine for 
 a superstitious monument. Zohrab plunged into the 
 evil-smelling pond beside his horse. Then, after the 
 meal, he lay upon the glowing sand to sleep. Evening 
 chills roused him suddenly, and they set off again. 
 The second stage was safely traversed, but with worse 
 alarms, for Zohrab thought he had lost his way. He 
 reached the well early, drank, ate, and lay down. 
 Wakened in the moonlight by the shrill neigh of his 
 horse, he saw a little cavalcade approaching. 
 
 In the desert one cannot hide, and Zohrab lay still. 
 The strangers drew up, looked at him, and dispersed to 
 their camp duties. They were not Bedouins, for no 
 camel followed them. After attending to their horses 
 they sat down to eat, but two armed men quietly 
 stationed themselves beside Zohrab. The moon vanished, 
 but in the circle round a smouldering fire torches were 
 lit. He thought out the situation, rose like a man from 
 sleep, and advanced with salaams. All eyed him gravely, 
 but did not reply. He tried a Wahabi signal, which 
 
40 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 gained instant recognition. " Sal Khayr ! " said the 
 chief courteously, piously avoiding the name of Allah. 
 Zohrab sat beside this chief, and the questioning began, 
 but much less eager than is usual. His story was pat, 
 for he had little to conceal beside his creed ; and, whilst 
 their meal proceeded, a frugal repast of bread and rice, 
 the Wahabis listened with grave politeness. At the end 
 all rose with a low ejaculation of thankfulness to Allah. 
 Zohrab rose also. " Bind that spy ! " the chief com- 
 manded. In an instant Zohrab was stripped and tied, 
 thrown upon the earth, and left there. 
 
 The camp did not stir early. At the hour of morn- 
 ing-prayer men released the prisoner, brought the carpet 
 which he had thoughtfully provided, and went to their 
 own devotions. Zohrab ought, I know, to have refused, 
 and the story should end at this point with a harrowing 
 narrative of his martyrdom. But my hero was not 
 formed of martyr's stuff. He knelt and stood, folded 
 his hands and spread them, touched the ground with his 
 forehead, and so on. As nobody watched him closely, 
 the performance did not cause suspicion. In the heat of 
 the morning they started, Zohrab in the midst. To his 
 questions the Wahabis replied very briefly or not at all. 
 Indeed they scarcely spoke among themselves, and no 
 stronger proof could be alleged of the influence religion 
 has on character. That Arabs should be silent and self- 
 contained seems incredible, but the Wahabis habitually 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MIRAGE. 41 
 
 display this phenomenon. Now and then, after Lng 
 brooding over earthly wickedness and heavenly joys, a 
 warrior cried sharply " Lah-Ullah ! " seldom completing 
 the formula. And others would take it up, half uncon- 
 sciously. 
 
 At the halt Zohrab approached the chief, who heard 
 his icproaches unmoved. u If you were going to visit 
 Sheikh Abou '1 Nasr, you have no cause of complaint. 
 I will conduct you to him ! " No more words would he 
 give, but the tone meant death. 
 
 The next march brought them within view of El 
 Husn, so the Wahabis declared. Zohrab looked with 
 all his power. Suppose that this place, to visit which 
 he had probably sacrificed his life, were not the sub- 
 stance of his mirage dreams after all ! So it appeared in 
 truth, and his heart sickened. In the quarter where El 
 Husn lay, as the guides alleged, nothing was visible but 
 piles of crags ; and there were no mountains in the 
 vision. Zohrab keenly scrutinised the plain, but it lay 
 yellow and bare to the very foot of those yellow barren 
 hills. He had thrown away his life ! 
 
 When still far from them, the party diverged towards 
 a solitary mound. Two Arabs who had been lying on 
 its crest rose to their feet and vanished. Presently they 
 re-appeared on horseback, galloping from the further side. 
 At a furious pace some young Wahabis rode to meet 
 them, whirling guns but not firing. All went on 
 
42 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 together to the well, talking eagerly. The remarks 
 Zohrab overheard suggested that action was at hand. 
 After spending the night at this halt, the Wahabis rode 
 in a straight course for the hills. The sun was high 
 when they reached a narrow gorge, so deep and so abrupt 
 that it lay in shadow almost cool whilst the crags glowed 
 and burnt above. Massive sungas, works of rough stone 
 piled up, flanked the entrance, and at every point of 
 vantage above the winding road such defences were 
 repeated. The Wahabis looked at them with interest, 
 and the elders told legends of fight this gorge had wit- 
 nessed. 
 
 A mile or two beyond its mouth the fortifications 
 became continuous. Suddenly a valley opened, with 
 palms and green specks of fields, and huts and black 
 tents. At the further end, several miles away, shone 
 the white dome of a mosque. And in front appeared 
 the house of the mirage, on a terrace of the mountain. 
 Zohrab gasped ! It was no trick of the eye ! In real 
 stone and mortar, there stood the gateway and the 
 battlements and the windows he had daily beheld four 
 hundred miles away! There was the Sheikh in his 
 black burnoos and bright handkerchief. There were 
 the children playing on the terrace. Zohrab forgot the 
 peril in which he lay. What could harm the man to 
 whom such a miracle was vouchsafed ! 
 
 Men clothed all in white came galloping from the 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MIRAGE. 43 
 
 tents, and loudly welcomed their friends. Sheikh and 
 girls vanished. Across the flat, up the hill-side, the 
 Wahabis advanced. As Zohrab came out upon the 
 terrace he wondered whether Suleyman was watching now 
 and smoking by the station door. About this hour the 
 mirage appeared at Um el Jemal. 
 
 Servants took the horses of the chiefs, who went in, 
 whilst their followers lay in the house-shadow, eating, 
 dreaming, and sleeping ; so, many a time, had Zohrab 
 seen the terrace occupied. Hour passed after hour, but 
 he could neither eat nor sleep. Then two burly blacks 
 called him. A few steps inside the arch, the roadway 
 wheeled at right angles where a portcullis hung on rusty 
 chains. Several meutrieres in either wall allowed the 
 garrison to make a last resistance, behind the portcullis, 
 though the gate were forced. Under the further arch 
 Zobrab saw a courtyard with stalky flowers and channels 
 for irrigation ; beyond it, painted arcades, where sat the 
 Wahabi chiefs in their snowy robes. But his conductors 
 opened a narrow door in the thickness of the wall, and 
 threw him in. The dreary place he entered was a 
 guardroom, used as a prison. Light entered dimly from 
 the meutrieres for a few hours on each side of noon. 
 Eight or ten scarecrows in Turkish uniform lay round. 
 Their eyes, feverishly bright, shone in the gloom. 
 Zohrab addressed them eagerly, but they did not reply. 
 
 In a few moments the Wahabis passed, and smiled 
 
44 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 grimly as they looked in. People came and went 
 through the archway. Then dusk crept over the fetid 
 den, though free men outside called it early afternoon. 
 After some hours of impotent storming, Zohrab grew 
 hungry, and asked his fellow-prisoners when food was 
 served. A big-boned Turk, who had been fat and jovial 
 perhaps in other days, answered bitterly from the dark- 
 ness, " Those who enter here learn to live without 
 eating ! " It was excitement rather than hunger which 
 Zohrab had suffered. But at the threat of starvation he 
 suddenly famished. The Turks would not answer again. 
 
 The prison had long been black as a mine when ser- 
 vants arrived with torches. The negroes entered first, 
 bound Zohrab, and threw him into a corner. Then the 
 others brought in food, a tiny mess of rice and a slab 
 of unleavened bread for each prisoner saving the last. 
 They laughed to hear his cries for food and curses. 
 When all the Turks had done, the slaves unbound 
 Zohrab, and took the light away. 
 
 It is not strange nor painful for an Arab to fast a day 
 and night. Under ordinary circumstances he will sleep 
 through longer abstinence. But Zohrab's fervid imagina- 
 tion was moved here. That the realisation of his wildest 
 hopes should mean a fate like this was hideous, mon- 
 strous. He could not sleep. Standing by a loophole 
 he implored each passer-by to tell the Sheikh this and 
 that. An endless time it seemed before the show of 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MIRAGE. 45 
 
 torches and the clash of the big doors told that real 
 night had begun, and an endless time of horror suc- 
 ceeded before they clashed again, opening in the dawn 
 which would not reach that prison-house for hours. 
 Perhaps he had slept, but it was the sleep that fevers. 
 All through the pitchy blackness, waking or dreaming, 
 he had seen the white eyes of his companions, who had 
 learned to live without food. Sharp pains transfixed his 
 body ; blood rushed to his head with splitting vehemence 
 and left it frozen. Zohrab was still far from delirium, 
 but he heard familiar voices and raved in answer. The 
 Turks watched him anxiously as the dim light spread. 
 Horrid experience warned them that this new comer 
 might do mischief before he grew used to starve. No 
 one else heeded him, save by a mocking word thrown in. 
 Evening was heralded by its chills. Zohrab had 
 fallen beneath the loophole when the blacks entered 
 suddenly, and threw themselves upon him. In spite of 
 his desperate struggling they fixed the ropes, and food 
 was served to the others. Then they held the prisoner 
 firmly whilst a slave untied him, and when the last knot 
 was loosed they pitched him headlong with all their 
 strength. When Zohrab recovered his feet they were 
 laughing outside. 
 
 Such, then, was to be his fate death by hunger, with 
 torment added ! After a mood of helpless agony furious 
 raving got hold upon him. The Turks gathered in a 
 
46 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 feeble heap to defend themselves. At midnight, or near 
 it, men came with lights. u The Sheikh summons you! " 
 they said, and led him out. That calmed him. Quietly 
 he followed across the moonlit courtyard, through dusky 
 alcoves, to an inner room, where sat an old but vigorous 
 chief, warrior and statesman every inch. He smiled, 
 took the narguilleh from his lips, and told the slaves to go. 
 " Health to you, my son ! Sit down ! / 
 Zohrab was trying to collect his thoughts for this 
 supreme crisis. But on the first effort of will he felt 
 them escape, fly round, transform themselves, and re- 
 appear, the same but in new shapes. They would not 
 be held. Frightened, awestruck, by this revolt, Zohrab 
 fell on the divan, without even kicking off' his shoes. 
 The Sheikh started in surprise. That act told more 
 than he had looked to hear. The stranger was a 
 Christian and a " personage." He smiled in scornful 
 pity, but without change of tone asked whence Zohrab 
 came. 
 
 The youth began his story, very slightly and inno- 
 cently falsified. He described how the fame of the great 
 Arab had reached him at Beyrout. But in this early 
 stage his attention wandered. He found himself talking 
 of home, of his mother and sisters pulled up confused 
 began to tell of the mirage, and described Um el 
 Jemal, with a minute but flighty sketch of his English 
 superior. 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MIRAGE. 47 
 
 The Sheikh smoked and listened pleasantly. He 
 observed, " You do not mention your father may his 
 soul have found peace ! " 
 
 " He was killed by the Turks ! " Zohrab passionately 
 shouted. " When people told me of Sheikh Abou '1 
 Nasr, I said, He is my father and my lord ! I will go 
 and fight the Turk with him ! Oh Sheikh, they starve 
 me, and I could not get word with you ! My blood is 
 flame and my head a millstone with lightning in it ! I 
 am dying ! " 
 
 " Who told you the way hither ? " 
 
 " The Reis of our store-boat. I showed him your 
 house and your image, and the Wahabis who came, and 
 Ferideh " 
 
 "You showed him ?" began the Sheikh, astonished. 
 " Who is Ferideh ?" 
 
 " Your daughter ! Oh, pardon me I I don't know 
 what I say!" He threw himself along the divan, 
 hysterically sobbing. 
 
 The Sheikh watched him thoughtfully, then clapped 
 his hands and ordered bread and wine. Zohrab kissed 
 his garments in the Oriental manner, not practised by 
 this semi-Frank since childhood. He devoured the 
 small cake, and looked for more. " Drink ! " the 
 chief commanded, and he swallowed the measure in one 
 gulp. 
 
 " Now finish your tale, my son ! " 
 
48 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 " My head is whirling ! I do not remember ! " 
 
 " You have told me you are a Christian of Beyrout, 
 employed in the service of the Porte. You invoked 
 certain powers to reach me. What are they ? " 
 
 " Powers? You misunderstood, Sheikh, or I talked 
 foolishness." 
 
 " Nay, my son ! " Then looking fixedly at Zohrab, 
 and making strange signs, he spoke in an unknown 
 tongue. The youth felt a deeper thrill of alarm as the 
 thought struck him that his mind was giving way. He 
 sat with eyes dilated, panting. 
 
 After several essays, the Sheikh paused in bewilder- 
 ment. " What your power is I know not, my son, but 
 it is inferior to mine. Instruct me, therefore ! " 
 
 " I swear I do not know what you refer to, Sheikh." 
 
 A sharp clang of brass resounded, and the negroes 
 appeared. " Throw this Turk over the cliff!" the 
 Sheikh commanded ; and in an instant Zohrab was over- 
 powered and dragged out, yelling defiance and entreaties, 
 through the archway to the moonlit platform. Lights 
 gleamed at the window, heads appeared far above. Upon 
 the very brink, Zohrab heard the Sheikh: "Tell the 
 truth ! " 
 
 " By the God we both worship, I have told the 
 truth!" 
 
 "One lift him on the parapet! Two his feet! 
 Throw his feet over. Well ? " 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MIRAGE. 49 
 
 But Zohrab did not reply. He was looking to Heaven 
 with prayers. 
 
 " Father father ! not before our eyes ! " cried a girl's 
 voice from above. And Zohrab saw a lovely face out- 
 lined in the moonbeams at a window. 
 
 " Lift him back ! Put him in a room to sleep." And 
 presently Zohrab, dazed and trembling in great shivers, 
 lay on a carpet, with meat and wine beside him. It 
 was long before he slept, and his dreams at first were of 
 a thousand dreadful deaths. Towards morning he fell 
 into heavy slumber. 
 
 The Sheikh sat beside him when he woke. After a 
 moment's perplexity Zohrab sprang to his feet ready for 
 a struggle. 
 
 " I have taken counsel. Now tell what marvels you 
 please, and I believe ! " 
 
 " You know I spoke the truth? " 
 
 " I know that and more. But explain how you saw 
 me and my house if it was not rnagic? " 
 
 In the sudden brightness of his spirits a question rose 
 to Zohrab's lips why the occult powers had not cleared 
 up this mystery also. But he refrained, and told about 
 the mirage. The chief was interested, but uneasy. If 
 his dwelling could be spied on hundreds of miles away, 
 why not his defences? Zohrab reassured him partly, and 
 he said in conclusion: " Now, Sheikh, will you enlist an 
 infidel ? " 
 
 E 
 
50 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 " If I enlist the Wahabi tiger for a good end, how can 
 I refuse a Christian dog?" he answered, smiling. " But 
 those who would be served by men must lower them- 
 selves to serve prejudice and passion. Call yourself 
 Aghile Agha of Beyrout ! I put this garrison in your 
 charge, for other business absorbs my time. Lie quiet 
 to-day. I will send you books." 
 
 The Sheikh's library was small, but characteristic: 
 some poets, some works of unintelligible necromancy, 
 the campaigns of Zenghis Khan, and the autobio- 
 graphies of his great descendants, Babar and Ackbar. 
 The philosophy of these Moghul emperors, though 
 timidly rendered by an orthodox translator, had evi- 
 dently impressed the Sheikh. In a dozen loose notes 
 Zohrab found its expression, which may be summarised 
 briefly: u There is no God but one; the prophets of all 
 creeds are his servants. There are devils beyond 
 counting, but the man wise and just can sway them." 
 
 Next day Zohrab ' took command of the garrison. It 
 was no honorary charge. Every dweller in the valley 
 capable of bearing arms was a retainer of the Sheikh. 
 Fifty of them in rotation served at the castle, and all 
 mustered for review at intervals. Drill is abhorrent to 
 the Arab as to the Turk; but these men, mostly veterans 
 of fight, performed to admiration the simple tactics 
 necessary for their warfare. They knew their place in 
 the ranks, and would keep it; they would advance or 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MIRAGE. 51 
 
 retire as they got the word, obedient though not com- 
 pact. Mechanical movements are not required in the 
 desert. 
 
 For awhile messengers and mysterious visitors arrived 
 more thickly. Every day armed men encamped upon 
 the terrace Wahabi or other whilst their chiefs took 
 counsel within. Owing to this invasion doubtless the 
 women of the household never came out on that side. 
 They had another space for airing, and Zohrab knew 
 they used it. In his room sometimes he heard merry 
 voices and scoldings, and the wail of little girls whose 
 ears are boxed. His apartment had windows, high above 
 the floor, that looked on the harem playground. Zohrab 
 was sorely tempted to climb up, and it was not the cer- 
 tainty of death if caught that checked him. He listened 
 for an individual voice that should speak .to his heart, 
 and sometimes he thought to recognise it. Remembering 
 that, if he could not see Ferideh, she could see him at any 
 time, he kept himself neat and soldierlike. 
 
 After awhile the visits became less frequent. For a 
 day, then two days, no cavalcade was signalled from the 
 desert mound which Zohrab remembered so painfully. 
 He heard the men discussing this change, from which 
 they drew conclusions. One morning he sought the 
 Sheikh, who was pondering and reckoning as usual. 
 
 " My father, you won the name of the Victorious in 
 youth. Full of honours and renown you may rest at 
 
 E2 
 
52 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 ease, directing those who fight. But we are young! 
 Give me the untried warriors in your tents, and let 
 us go." 
 
 " Take two hundred, and march on Suf. You may 
 have an opportunity to prove yourselves men, for the 
 Turks are reinforced to day. Hold that place to the 
 death, my son ! " 
 
 " Do the Turks project a landing in force ? " 
 
 "You have a shrewd intelligence, Aghile Agha. 
 Yes ! When they have put out the fire I have raised 
 they will march on El Husn. The result is in God's 
 hand. He has given me many years of peace." 
 
 " You speak as if the cause would certainly be 
 defeated, Sheikh! Why do you despair ?" 
 
 " I do not despair, but I know. The time is not 
 revealed. We should hold out more than a year in the 
 South." 
 
 " Then we should hold out for ever if you took the 
 field. Sheikh," said Zohrab, timidly. 
 
 " No; I can command the Wahabis from a distance, 
 but I cannot serve with them, nor they with me." 
 
 " I understand. But if you know, that with such 
 instruments victory is impossible, why employ them, 
 Sheikh? I ask the foolish question of your wisdom." 
 
 " My son, the mason takes a rough tool to split the 
 stone which he will cut and fashion with tempered steel. 
 There are old guns buried in Suf; the people will shew 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MIRAGE. 53 
 
 them you. Fortify, mount them, have all prepared. 
 When the time comes I will march thither with two 
 thousand men." 
 
 " It is impossible the Turks should come by land." 
 " What Ibrahim Pasha dared not try Turks will not 
 venture ! And now," the Sheikh added with pleasant 
 significance, " does Zohrab Effendi still dream of Feri- 
 deh?" 
 
 Zohrab coloured furiously, but he tried to answer in 
 the same tone, " Aghile Agha dreams no more ! " 
 
 The Sheikh smiled now. . " Then let us look for Feri- 
 deh together with our eyes open." 
 
 Zohrab was transfixed. Such invitations are not 
 unknown in legend or even in history, but those who 
 gave them were reckless debauchees, or despots above the 
 canons of propriety. The Sheikh waited with a dig- 
 nified kindness as unlike the air of a drunkard as of a 
 madman. Zohrab still hesitated. 
 
 "Why, my son, if I visited you in Beyrout would 
 you not present your sisters to me? And if I visited 
 the Queen of Frangistan would she not show me all the 
 ladies of her realm ? Are we Moslem beasts or our 
 women unclean?" 
 
 " Oh, Sheik!" cried Zohrab, stepping forward, " there 
 are no Moslem like you ! " 
 
 " Nay, you do not know. Very many good Moslem 
 
54 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 have broken a law, suited perhaps to the time, but foolish 
 now, to secure the happiness of those they love." 
 
 In speaking he led the way through bare stone pas- 
 sages with massive doors at every turning, useful if the 
 walls were carried by a rush of Bedouins, but valueless 
 against a disciplined foe. They came out in a grated 
 chamber, where girlish voices sounded close. Zohrab's 
 heart beat wildly as he took place behind the Sheikh and 
 looked. Five girls of different ages were seated on the 
 ground, vociferously playing at some game. Younger 
 children toddled about, and three women sat languid in 
 the shade. " Not one son ! " the Sheikh bitterly mut- 
 tered, but he recovered his good humour on the instant. 
 " Now, Zohrab Effendi, is Ferideh there ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, father. That is shethe loveliest of all ! " 
 
 The Sheikh laughed softly. " You must be more 
 explicit to a parent. Which is the loveliest of all ? " 
 
 " Oh, you are mocking. She in the gold scarf and 
 blue trousers, with the snood of coins in her loose hair. 
 See ! she has fallen over laughing. Her slipper has 
 dropped off. What a lovely foot ! " 
 
 "That, Ferideh? Regard the others! They are 
 older and more beautiful ! " 
 
 " Not for me. Oh, Sheikh, our souls are one ! " 
 
 " But it was not your Ferideh who called that night 
 when you fancied yourself already dead ! " 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MIRAGE. 55 
 
 " She was not there or she was asleep ! Oh, father, 
 you will not break your word ! " 
 
 "No! Perhaps it is best. My little Zireh will not 
 be impatient whilst her betrothed is absent in the wars. 
 Then let us go." 
 
 " You are displeased. Believe me I would choose 
 another if I could." 
 
 The Sheikh laughed so loud that his old walls re- 
 echoed. t( I see how impossible it is now you are awake, 
 Aghile Agha. Take comfort; the child is yours when 
 these troubles are past, and you return/' 
 
 " Oh, my father! Will you tell her she is destined 
 forme?" 
 
 " No ; for Zireh is young, too young for trouble; and 
 no man can tell his own fate or another's when balls 
 are flying. But you shall see her again the day you 
 leave." 
 
 " Allah will be kind to you, Sheikh, who are so kind 
 to men. When shall I go ? " 
 
 " Choose your companions and bring the list to me." 
 
 All was ready in three days. As Zohrab stood upon 
 the terrace after a last parade, the Sheikh took him by 
 the arm and led the way to a chamber which he entered 
 first. A little figure sprang from the divan, in a whirl 
 of hair, to throw itself into his arms. 
 
 " Is this proper conduct in the presence of a stranger, 
 
56 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 you wild gazelle? " said the chief, laughing. "Put on 
 your veil." 
 
 Pouting and blushing, but not much abashed, Zireh 
 covered her face ; the proprieties becoming a young girl 
 were not yet familiar. Zohrab saw again the features, 
 lean and clear but not sharp, the eyes so dark and 
 shadowed that light sparkled in them as on the facet of 
 a black diamond, the pink purple mouth ; the slender 
 figure too, outlined in a robe of thinnest silk, crossed on 
 the bosom, tightly swathed by a scarf upon the hips. 
 Zireh looked at him when the veil was adjusted, with 
 the boldness of petulant childhood, discontentedly, 
 askance ; but the young man's expression had such eager 
 fire that she dropped her gaze, and raised it angrily, and 
 looked to her father, bewildered. 
 
 " This youth, Zireh, is Aghile Agha, upon whose 
 courage and discretion the safety of us all may depend. 
 Now leave us, child." 
 
 Zireh looked puzzled as she withdrew, with a touch 
 of her forehead and a bow to the stranger. At the door 
 she glanced up under her thick lashes, caught his eye 
 again, and hastily went out. 
 
 " I know I know," the Sheikh ejaculated, " I hold a 
 hostage dearer to you than life! Now to business. 
 Three days ago I dismissed my Turkish prisoners 
 secretly. You will hear from them on your road, I 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MIRAGE. 57 
 
 doubt not. When the swine have delivered Suf into 
 your hands, give them five hundred liras and help them 
 to get away." 
 
 Had I dared to violate truth I should have liked to 
 record that Zohrab's first act after gaining favour had 
 been to procure the release of these fellow-prisoners. So 
 an Englishman or a Christian would have behaved 
 towards his bitterest personal foe perhaps. But my 
 characters are Arab, with Arab ways of virtue as of 
 error. Zohrab had given the Turks no thought of 
 kindliness. He said, " Have they strength to reach 
 Suf ? " 
 
 u Oh, I have fed them till they are lusty as young 
 camels, and Turks can always find strength for the devil's 
 work." 
 
 Zohrab started next day. At the second halt he 
 received a communication. Yielding to alarm and greed, 
 the commandant betrayed his post. Before dawn next 
 day the Arabs crept to a gate which they found unlocked, 
 and carried the town. The Turkish soldiers fought and 
 died; the superior officers surrendered, took the wages 
 of their treachery, and embarked in the afternoon. 
 
 Then Zohrab began his work with zeal, repairing the 
 old fortifications, building new, and mounting guns. 
 Fortunately, the Turks were occupied down south, and 
 their vessels only threw a dozen shells into the place in 
 passing. Zohrab had a thousand cares and projects, but 
 
58 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 very few hands to execute his schemes. Time went by 
 quickly, month after month. News arrived constantly 
 from El Husn, and rumours came by sea. The rebellion 
 followed its usual course. The Arabs, mustering silently, 
 overpowered small Turkish garrisons, swept the edge of 
 the cultivated land, and mastered the oases. The enemy 
 concentrated, yielding whole provinces to the rush. 
 Then the reaction set in. The wilder people of the 
 desert tired, and made off with their plunder. The 
 Wahabis, unrestrained, sacked mosques, overthrew 
 shrines, murdered priests, and persecuted the orthodox. 
 When the Turks began to move, no force remained to 
 oppose them face to face. Desperate forays were made 
 in their rear, and small parties were cut off, but district 
 by district they regained the country. After twelve 
 months, though the struggle was not finished, nor will 
 be so long as the Turkish dominion lasts, it had ceased 
 to be war. Then, if the Sheikh were well-advised by 
 his agents or his familiar spirits, the peril of El Husn 
 was nigh. 
 
 In his letters Zohrab had not breathed a hint of the 
 matter nearest his heart. And the Sheikh, though 
 liberal in his ideas, might have thought it shocking to 
 mention a girl. One day pressing news arrived. The 
 Turks were collecting an army to reduce the Wahabi 
 stronghold of Wady Afre, as they gave out. But Abou 
 '1 Nasr was assured that they purposed attacking him. 
 
THE. ROMANCE OF A MIRAGE. O9 
 
 On an advance by land nobody had counted. He had 
 strong hopes of resisting successfully behind his desert 
 barrier, but as a measure of precaution he sent his harem 
 and valuables to Suf. Solemnly the old chief com- 
 mended them to Allah and his friend. Two days after- 
 wards the caravan arrived, a score of women and chil- 
 dren, with many camel-loads of property. The men 
 who guarded it returned, leaving a few veterans to 
 guard their master's family. Zohrab gave up his quar- 
 ters to the ladies ; amongst their dark eyes, still swollen 
 with tears and alarm, he recognised Zireh's. But they 
 did not look at him. 
 
 Of all the weary months of Zohrab's exile it was the 
 longest that followed this event. He did not once see 
 the girl now sleeping under his roof, and the merest pro- 
 priety forbade him to seek communication with her, had 
 any means come to hand. The Sheikh reported almost 
 daily, and his news, though calmly told, was alarming. 
 The party he had sent to destroy the wells upon the 
 route the Turks must follow had been driven back by 
 Bedouins. The schemes for a diversion had failed. 
 None but his immediate retainers stood by the Sheikh, 
 and the enemy were getting into motion. Forgetting 
 all else in a generous enthusiasm, Zohrab begged to be 
 relieved ; that he might conquer or die with his bene- 
 factor, but the refusal was peremptory. At the same 
 time the Sheikh wrote to his head-wife, Zireh's mother. 
 
60 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 She came to the lieutenant, veiled and weeping, and 
 put into his hand the letter she could not read. He 
 pressed it to his lips, and brow, and heart. The Sheikh 
 enjoined upon his wife to obey Zohrab as she did him- 
 self, and to love him as her son ; for he, as Zireh's hus- 
 band, should be recognised as the head of the family. 
 
 " You to be our son ! You ! a stranger who keeps 
 here in safety whilst my lord is struggling for life ! " So 
 the fiery old dame went on. Zohrab read all the letters 
 to her, and at length she owned with sobs that the 
 Sheikh was wise ; for the children's sake she would obey. 
 
 For a whole week there was silence. Scouts despatched 
 did not return. The garrison became demoralized, and 
 every night thore were desertions. Zohrab made his 
 arrangements for the worst. The Sheikh had supplied 
 him with ample funds. He chartered the store-ship, 
 which no longer supplied Um el Jemal, and equipped it 
 for female passengers. Then he loaded the treasure and 
 baggage, in charge of trusty veterans, and waited. 
 At length two horsemen rode in with a brief letter. 
 After two days' fight, the Sheikh reported, the passes 
 had been forced. Whilst he wrote, the Turkish column 
 was pouring into the valley. Zohrab was solemnly 
 commanded to take ship at once and sail for Aden, 
 where, if by miracle the Sheikh escaped, he would 
 rejoin his family. But he bade them all good-bye, and 
 commended them to the merciful God. 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MIRAGE. 61 
 
 The evil news had spread before Zohrab gained the 
 street. His soldiers were looting on every side. He 
 ran to his former quarters, and shouted for the head- 
 wife. Frightened slaves shut the door in his face. 
 Time pressed cruelly. As the soldiers gathered their 
 load of worthless plunder each religiously avoiding 
 houses where he individually had eaten bread they 
 made off for the desert ; and as their numbers lessened 
 the townspeople became more threatening. Zohrab 
 hammered at the gate, and some score of Arabs swiftly 
 collected, full of mischief and revenge. Then he shouted 
 for Zireh ; and suddenly the door opened she stood 
 shrinking before him. " Where is your mother ? 
 Quick ! " But the throng behind crushed in, and the 
 girl sank fainting in his arms. Zohrab shot down the 
 foremost, and, as the others pressed back, he caught up 
 his bride, ran to the zenana and found it empty! 
 Dropping Zireh on the floor, he hurried out. But the 
 courtyard and the passages were now full of Arabs, 
 shrieking, yelling, rushing hither and thither. If there 
 were women's cries in that tumult they could not be 
 heard. Zohrab did not hesitate ! Nothing remained 
 but to die, since he had failed to save. But, as he 
 gathered his weight for the rush, girlish arms caught 
 him fast. 
 
 " Oh, save me, Aghile Agha ! Save me I Save me ! " 
 Zohrab looked. When love pleads with youth, honour 
 
62 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 which commands to refuse and die must be stronger 
 than is found in the Arab's fiery blood. Zohrab carried 
 her back, lifted her through a window, and they ran to 
 the shore. There a boat was waiting, with half-a- 
 dozen of the guard. Zohrab took four, and returned to 
 meet the whole body of townsmen, armed now and tri- 
 umphant. The struggle was brief and desperate. With 
 one surviving comrade, Zohrab fought his way back. 
 He gained the ship, which set sail for Aden. 
 
 There Zireh was placed in charge of mission ladies 
 before her bodyguard knew what was doing. A hand- 
 some draft on the Sheikh's treasure comforted their 
 bodies, not their souls. They would have liked to raise 
 a riot, but the police damped their ardour. When 
 Zireh's eyes had been opened to some elementary ideas 
 of life in this world and that to come, Zohrab confessed 
 himself a Christian. The surprise was not painful; for 
 experience of English ways had shown the girl that 
 Christians are not unclean and miserable outcasts of 
 humanity. So soon as he assured her that the Sheikh 
 knew his religion, Zireh was quite content; and in nc 
 long time she professed herself a Christian a bad one. 
 I fear, regarded dogmatically, but gentle, compassionate, 
 and pure. 
 
 They remained twelve months at Aden ; but no news 
 came of the Sheikh or his family. When that date was 
 passed^ Zohrab spoke of marriage, and he met no plea for 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MIRAGE. 63 
 
 delay that would not occur to an Arab maiden if, by 
 such unheard-of chance as this, she were left to speak 
 for herself. The ceremony was performed in the garrison 
 church, amid such universal interest, such attentions to 
 the pretty bride from the highest quarters, and such 
 military display as would alone have made it the hap- 
 piest event of their lives. A week afterwards they sailed 
 for India, and Zohrab is now high in the Telegraph 
 Service of the Nizam, where he finds a few Arabs to 
 talk with and many to avoid. 
 
64 
 
 LYING IN WAIT. 
 
 This description of a " Man-eater " crouched in ambush on a jungle- 
 path was furnished to The Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic 
 News in explanation of an engaving. 
 
 u Your drawing is admirably spirited, and a rarer 
 quality correct. The artist has made a careful study of 
 feline attitude and expression. The head down-pressed 
 below straining shoulders, the lips pendent with excite- 
 ment at the jowl, rigidly curled over the front teeth, the 
 eyes shining round and clear as lamps, the hind-quarters 
 gathered for the spring, are true as beautiful. I feel sure 
 that, if the tail were not hidden, we should see it gently 
 waving at the tip. As a general rule, of course, the 
 man-eater is old, faded of colour, mangy. So much had 
 been observed even in Pliny's day ; but there are excep- 
 tions, of which an artist has the right to avail himself. 
 The one criticism which I diffidently put forward has 
 reference to the stripes upon the belly. Are they quite 
 accurate? I do not raise objection, nevertheless, for 
 every one who has tried to draw a tiger without model 
 has learned how unfaithful is memory or preconceived 
 idea to recall its graceful marking. 
 
LYING IN WAIT. 65 
 
 ** No less happy is the delineation of the dak -runner. 
 One would not pronounce what type or nationality is 
 intended, but the expression of a man of low caste, such 
 as are these runners, is truthfully caught. Trotting and 
 shuffling through the jungle, this poor fellow sees before 
 his path the white rag upon a pole, which warns him 
 that a burra bagh sahib has lately made a victim close at 
 hand. Not manfully by our ideas, but steadily and 
 honestly he will push on the tears and sweat running 
 down his pallid face, eyes rolling, mouth agape and dry. 
 He makes an inarticulate moaning as he goes, yelling 
 now and again, propitiating the demon with slavish 
 prayers. At a sudden noise his heart stops, as with a 
 crash, and he falls prone. All the while his fingers, 
 cramped but trembling, jingle the rings upon his lati. 
 Still, somehow, he gets over the ground, and his bag is 
 delivered safely at the next dak-office. Nay, more ; he 
 will return to-morrow, undergoing the same terrors, 
 braving the same fate. 
 
 " Unless it befall him on the way, as your artist has 
 represented. That dak-runner is a dead man ! His wife, 
 poor soul, is unromantic and sordid, harsh of tongue 
 probably, despised by those canny people of her village 
 who are well assured from which limb of Brahma's body 
 they may claim their illustrious descent. But there will 
 be compassion for her when the hours go by, and her 
 husband still delays beyond his time. Presently, strangers 
 
 F 
 
66 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 arriving in the dusk will report fresh signs of evil under 
 the white flagblood and broken branches and shreds 
 of clothing. They have not delayed to look, whilst the 
 darkness gathered round. But those deep round foot- 
 prints in the moist earth, that trail of a heavy object 
 dragged through the corinda bushes headlong, are marks 
 that have but one significance. Then the widow bursts 
 out howling and tears her face. The affrighted scream- 
 ing children swarm about her. Never will they find 
 their parent's corpse to burn with the holy rites, and his 
 ghost will haunt them. All those kindly people sympa- 
 thise with neighbours smitten with an awful curse, and 
 they display their feelings so far as caste will permit. 
 And, meantime, the patel draws up his report for the 
 Zillah-Collector-Sahib. 
 
 " Everybody knows how it happened, and so do we. 
 The dak-runner snatched his staff, and clashed the rings 
 thereon incessantly, pounding it upon the soil. For an 
 instant the tiger paused. But he had heard that sound 
 before, and it had not wrought him harm. He let the 
 postman hurry by, glancing right and left with eyes dis- 
 tended that saw not. Then, with a roar, not grand like 
 a lion's, but as terrible to hear, he sprang. A blow of 
 the right paw, quick as thought, heavy as an axe, dashed 
 the man's head upon the claws outstretched to catch it. 
 As he tumbled, another pat broke in the skull, and the 
 tiger lay along his prostrate body growling, lashing his 
 
LYING IN WAIT. 67 
 
 tail from side to side. No word had the victim uttered 
 * Ai, ai ! ' he cried in agony, as the death-blow fell. 
 Presently, when all was quiet, the tiger moved, gripping 
 his prey by any limb convenient, and trailing it to the 
 darkest shade, whence came the noise of crunching and 
 rustling and rasping of the bones ; with starts and snarls 
 of fierce alarm. 
 
 " I once saw a corpse brought in, that of a man I 
 knew, killed by a tiger. It was a sight to recollect with 
 shuddering, so hideously strange. This poor wretch 
 went out to track the brute. I met a small procession 
 in the road. Attended by a throng of awe-struck natives, 
 the body was carried on a charpoy, under a cloth. I 
 raised the covering and started, sick with horrified sur- 
 prise. Many dreadful sights have I beheld since then, 
 but nothing which equalled that in unnatural ghastliness. 
 The wretched face was not injured. Dark plastered 
 lines of blood traversed the features, but they stood out 
 unmutilated. The long moustache passed behind the 
 ears, and, knotted on the crown, had its accustomed curl ; 
 but the head lay lower than the shoulders ! In place of 
 rising from chin to forehead it sloped back ! I could 
 not hope to make a reader understand the effect of that 
 hideous and shocking reversal of all laws. 
 
 " When we came to examine I, at least, had not the 
 nerv e we found that the tiger had struck with his 
 right paw outspread, carrying away the back part of the 
 
 F2 
 
68 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 skull, and leaving, so fragile is the Hindoo structure, 
 jagged intervals between the claws. The blow had 
 descended plumb, not sideways, as is the habit, for the 
 left paw had torn the shoulder on its upper surface. 
 
 " If the use of the right hand by man be purely matter 
 of convention, why do all animals, so far as I know, 
 strike by preference with the right paw, and grasp or 
 return the object with the left? I should think, in two 
 out of three cases where facts have been recorded, the 
 telling blow was given by the right limb, whilst the left 
 steadied or threw back the object. I incline to think 
 that when the smaller felines leap upon an animal, twice 
 in three times they bite the neck on the right side, 
 whilst forcing the victim's head downwards and in by 
 pressure of the left paw on the nose. If this be so, it 
 would seem that both the striking and biting creatures 
 instinctively use the right hand. 
 
 " No class of men furnishes so much food for tigers as 
 the dak-runner. All beasts of prey have the instinct to 
 observe the time and places where a meal may be secured 
 with regularity and safety. The wells by lonely villages, 
 the roads used by jungle-cutters, are particularly favoured 
 by the man-eater. If he be too old, or indolent, or 
 stupid, or decrepid to find an unmolested hunting-ground 
 of this sort, he lies in wait for the postman. It may be 
 suspected that the jingling of the lati is rather a signal 
 than an alarm after awhile. Frank Buckland some- 
 
LYING IN WAIT. 69 
 
 where mentions the case reported of a man-eater which 
 had destroyed forty persons in six months, of whom 
 sixteen were dak-runners. It is probable that in every 
 instance recorded, where the den of an old offender has 
 been searched, some remains of this unfortunate class 
 have turned up. Speaking from memory, I think that 
 the last returns of the Zillah department showed a total 
 of 10,000 persons odd killed by tigers, leopards, lions, 
 bears, and the like in India. Rather more were killed by 
 snakes, I think, but I have not the figures. If we divide 
 sixteen by two to make a general average, relying on 
 Frank Buckland's authority, it would seem that 1,250 
 postmen are sacrificed yearly to wild beasts. Eather a 
 startling estimate, most people will declare, but certainly 
 not exaggerated on the statistics given. Yours very 
 truly, 
 
 " FREDK. BOYLE." 
 
70 
 
 WHY CAPTAIN EAWDON BID NOT GO 
 TO THE WAE. 
 
 u You know, Clem, that my appointment is gazetted. 
 If 1 could help in any way I would give you my 
 last hour, but there is no room for anybody's inter- 
 ference, least of all mine. We may have our opinion of 
 Darner, but a lady sees him from a different point of 
 view." 
 
 " You have not been attending. I say Lucy is not in 
 love with the fellow. She admitted as much to my 
 father. Though of age, and a widow, she is only a 
 child. Lassalle died within a month of the wedding, 
 you know." 
 
 " Leaving her no fortune, I understand ? " 
 
 " Not enough to be an object with Darner. But it's 
 no use talking about it under present circumstances. 
 Arriving only yesterday, I had not heard your good 
 fortune. You'll come to see the governor before you 
 start ? " 
 
 " Pll come to tiffin to-morrow. Now let us have a 
 Peg" 
 
CAPTAIN RAWDON. 71 
 
 The two men had been leaning over the balcony of 
 the club at Simla. On the small terrace below, Ik by 
 the windows of the dining-room, a score of syces sat on 
 their heels, bridle in hand. The rays of light streaming 
 past touched here a pine-bough, there a scaly trunk; and 
 vanished in the abyss. Far below twinkled the lamps 
 of the bazaar. Between the darkness of earth and sky 
 the highest tip of Jacko hung like a jewel, silvering in 
 the first moonbeams. 
 
 The elder of the pair, Sir Arthur Rawdon, was almost 
 too good-looking. Girlish features he had, large blue 
 eyes, and a soft moustache, of which every golden hair 
 knew its place and kept it. I imagine that if this young 
 baronet had been rich, his natural indolence and his good 
 looks would have led people to think him a fool. But 
 necessity drove, and, in the process ot development from 
 a spoony youth to a smart captain of artillery, Rawdon 
 sacrificed some of those charms which, if they fasci- 
 nate bread-and-butter maidens, prejudice a cruel world 
 against men too pretty. Sharp lines formed about his 
 eyelids, and his voice learned the tones of decision. The 
 smile lost its too great facility, but it gained in meaning. 
 Indian sunshine creased his brow, and burned the colour 
 out of his fair skin. Before Rawdon himself had quite 
 decided that a young lady in her teens is not the supreme 
 effort of the Creator, his more youthful partners mur- 
 mured that, though dearly handsome, he was not 
 
72 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 entirely nice. No long time afterwards they espied a 
 grey hair, and explained all their vague dissatisfaction 
 by the mutual assurance that Sir Arthur was getting old 
 as a matter of fact he was in his thirtieth year, and he 
 had attained to the anomalous functions of an artillery 
 captain. 
 
 The other man, Clement Dawson, was a pleasant 
 young civilian. The two had been schoolfellows, and 
 their friendship was renewed in India. Dawson, accus- 
 tomed to rely upon his comrade, wished him now to give 
 advice about the " entanglement," as he called it, of a 
 young widowed cousin with an officer of the 100th B.C. 
 Eawdon, however, had an excuse unanswerable. He 
 was just gazetted A.D.C. to a general on the frontier. 
 
 Euefully the latter called to mind his engagement 
 next morning. He had meant to tiffin at the Fernery, 
 where, as was silently understood, bright eyes would 
 look for him. When his bearer came sadly and in great 
 concern, as if he did not carry a like message two days 
 out of three, to say there was no water for the sahib's 
 bath, the usual formula was not accepted with the usual 
 good temper. Honest Koda fled in haste to warn his 
 colleagues of the dining-room and stable that they should 
 defer their little bills that day. 
 
 " Unlucky day for presenting little bills," says imagi- 
 native Koda; " Mem sah'b writes that husband sah'b has 
 found all out, and is going to cut off her hair ! " 
 
CAPTAIN RAWDON. 73 
 
 Bents in Simla are monstrous, and Judge Dawson had 
 to consult economy. Sons and sons-in-law, tutors, and 
 school-masters, kept the pagoda-tree always aquiver. 
 The pretty house discovered at length had drawbacks. 
 It lay at the very bottom of Annandale, beneath a rock 
 so loose and shattered that no one had ventured to 
 occupy it for two seasons past. But Judge Dawson had 
 stout nerves, and a limitless belief in his own opinions 
 upon every subject. He surveyed the rock from above 
 and below, poked a stick into one crevice, threw a pebble 
 into another, and declared it firm as the Colosseum. 
 
 Eawdon could not find the path to this secluded spot, 
 and rode hither and thither, with a growing sense of ill- 
 usage. As he trotted round a corner, he met a lady 
 carrying a basket of ferns, which she dropped with a 
 little shriek. Rawdon jumped down, of course, and 
 picked up the scattered leaves, the lady standing silent. 
 " I hope there is not much harm done," he said, whilst 
 busily engaged, with his head down. " I stupidly for- 
 got that a horse's hoofs are unheard in this dust. 1 think 
 they are all there." Turning to restore the basket, he 
 looked up the road, round the corner, over the precipice, 
 and amongst the rhododendrons, but no one was there ! 
 The lady had vanished. Eawdon turned out the ferns, 
 seeking a name or a sign ; but there was nothing at the 
 bottom except two pretty little gloves. He folded them 
 
74 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 up carefully and put them in his pocket. c< It will be 
 hard," he thought, " if I don't get some fun out of the 
 joke;" and looked for marks in the dust. Among the 
 prints of hoofs and naked feet he speedily discovered 
 " sign." A little boot, fit match for those little gloves, 
 had left its impression here and there. Rawdon followed 
 the track some yards, until he came to a very narrow 
 path almost hidden amongst rocks and bushes. Winding 
 along a precipitous incline, he presently found a road 
 which led him to a long, low bungalow. An ill-kept 
 garden, full of roses and flowering shrubs, stood before 
 it. A couple of chuprassies lounged about the wooden 
 portico, brilliant in long red coats, trencher turbans, and 
 twisted girdles of orange and scarlet. They rose and 
 salaamed. Clem bustled out, 
 
 " It's awfully good of you to come, Rawdon," he said, 
 leading the way. " The governor and mater are round 
 here. Let me take that basket." 
 
 u Don't trouble ! Mrs. Dawson, I know you will not 
 be surprised at a curious question. How do I look? " 
 
 "Like a very conceited and impertinent young gunner 
 who has just been named aide-de-camp to General Blank 
 and expects to be congratulated." 
 
 " Well, I'm glad it has not produced any outward 
 marks," muttered Rawdon, quietly putting the basket on 
 a chair, as he saw a young lady approaching. 
 
CAPTAIN RAWDON. 75 
 
 " What do you mean ? Lucy, this is my pet hero, 
 Sir Arthur Rawdon, and he is talking the most delight- 
 ful nonsense." 
 
 " I shall try to laugh it off, but, when a man is going 
 on campaign, it is unpleasant to see these things." 
 
 " To see what, Arthur? " asked the grave judge, who 
 approached. 
 
 " I dare not trifle with your curiosity on such a sub- 
 ject, sir. My dear friends. I have seen a spirit." 
 
 "What, at the club?" 
 
 " No, here, on the road above your house." 
 
 " Dear me" said Mr. Dawson, anxiously, " who is 
 your doctor?" 
 
 " I must tell the story. As I rode along the path 
 having missed the direct way to your house at the 
 corner something happened. My horse stopped sud- 
 denly I heard a cry, not alarming, but awfully sweet. 
 My eyes were dazzled. A form stood before me at 
 which I dared not look. What followed? I found 
 myself on my knees in the dust. There was a soft 
 rustling, whether before, behind me, or in the air, I 
 could not say I turned the road was empty ! Under- 
 stand that all this passed in a moment. I looked about, 
 and on the spot where the apparition had stood if 
 indeed it rested on earthly limbs I traced the impress of 
 two delicate little feet, or, I should say, hoofs ! Perhaps 
 they were a sheep's perhaps a spirit's ! That is all. 
 
76 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 When I recovered myself I came down you will not 
 ridicule me for telling you? A man cannot hold his 
 tongue about such experiences ! " 
 
 Mrs. Dawson stood open-eyed, uncertain whether to 
 laugh or to console. Clem looked amused, glancing at 
 the basket. The judge cocked his head on one side, pre- 
 paring for a solemn cross-examination. Lucy bent her 
 face down, and gravely contemplated a tiny boot which 
 she thrust from beneath her dress. 
 
 " Let us say no more about it," observed Sir Arthur. 
 " What a charming view of the Snows you have here, 
 Judge." 
 
 Every householder in Simla on this side holds it as an 
 article of faith that he, and he alone, gets the Snows in 
 a proper focus at the other end they make a speciality 
 of their Pines. Whilst the elders were explaining how 
 and why this prospect was superior to that of everyone 
 else, Rawdon watched from the corner of his eye. He 
 saw Lucy take up the basket and search among the ferns. 
 Not finding her gloves she looked at Rawdon with a 
 bewitching air of hesitation, and caught his glance. 
 That decided her, of course, and she moved resolutely 
 forward to speak. But the kitmutgar announced tiffin, 
 and Sir Arthur promptly offered Mrs. Dawson his arm, 
 talking volubly. The opportunity passed, and Lucy 
 perhaps did not regret it; for she saw that everyone 
 would laugh at her, since Rawdon, of course, would 
 
CAPTAIN RAWDON. 77 
 
 deny all knowledge of the gloves. In truth they might ' 
 very well have been lost. 
 
 He confessed long before this that Lucy was the pret- 
 tiest creature he had ever seen. A catalogue of her 
 features would be easily made, but I do not see the pur- 
 pose. Arthur had no small experience of women expe- 
 rience comes thick and early on Indian service and the 
 same glance which convinced him of the little widow's 
 unequalled charm told him of danger. The charming 
 eyes brimmed with life and spirit. The delicate lips 
 could frame themselves to obstinate temper. Very little 
 of the saint was there, but, as Rawdon thought, an 
 illimitable store of love for him who could find it. 
 Meanwhile, a consummate little flirt, eager for enjoy- 
 ment, and very badly ballasted to go straight. Eawdon 
 thought none the worse of any daughter of Eve because 
 she might be frivolous or coquettish, provided, that is, 
 she owned no commanding officer and her letters of 
 marque were honourably registered. 
 
 " We asked Mr. Darner to meet you," said Mrs. 
 Dawson, "but he could not promise; Darner of the 
 100th B.C., you know." 
 
 " I have often met him," Arthur replied, glancing in 
 some astonishment at Clem. He understood the hasty 
 Mid complicated signal despatched in reply to mean that 
 the old lady was innocent as a babe of the family anxie- 
 
78 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 ties. Mrs. Dawson, an excellent creature, passed her 
 life, so to speak, outside of things. 
 
 " When you are both out of sight I cannot decide 
 which I like the best," continued Mrs. Dawson. " We 
 always say that you are the two most charming young 
 "xien in India." 
 
 " I insist upon an explanation of that * we. 3 Which 
 of the ladies of Harrypur go to make up the multitude?" 
 
 "Oh, I get into a habit of speaking for Lucy and 
 myself, but she never saw you before this very minute, 
 so I was talking nonsense, as usual." 
 
 " Delicate and judicious flattery is not nonsense, is it, 
 Mrs. Lassalle?" 
 
 " I don't know what flattery is " 
 
 "No! How could you?" 
 
 " But I know what nonsense is, and talking of spirits 
 on the Annandale E-oad is nonsense." 
 
 " It is not flattery though. What is a spirit? A mes- 
 senger from Heaven charged to comfort men and give 
 them nobler thoughts, sweeter aims, and hopes. One 
 might meet them, or think we met them, on the Annan- 
 dale Road as elsewhere." Lucy coloured, hesitated, and 
 kept silence. 
 
 Mrs. Dawson placidly returned to her subject. " They 
 tell me that many persons dislike Mr. Darner. I can 
 understand why the Judge does not take to him, for he 
 
CAPTAIN RAWDON. 79 
 
 is a little noisy I admit that. But such a manly, clever 
 fellow, and so amusing in all society ! He seems to beat 
 everybody at everything." 
 
 " Not everybody, mother," said Clem. " I would 
 back Arthur for all I have at anything Darner likes to 
 propose; but he wouldn't take the bet." 
 
 " Oh how delightful ! " exclaimed Mrs. Dawson ; " we 
 will get up matches, and all the best people in Simla 
 will come. It is a charming idea of yours, Clem." 
 
 " The Annandale Pet against the Club Chicken ! " 
 muttered Arthur. u You forget, my dear Mrs. Dawson, 
 that in five days I shall be on the frontier." 
 
 The Judge had been preparing a weighty speech for 
 several minutes. He addressed Clem with his "prisoner- 
 at-the-bar " swell. " I trust, sir, nay, I believe, that in 
 some late remarks of yours you were employing heedless 
 and unmeaning expressions, which are unfortunately 
 current amongst young men in India. You could not 
 propose to degrade the meritorious and honourable officer 
 who flatters you with his friendship by treating him like 
 a racehorse or coursing-dog, to be trotted out, matched, 
 tested, and publicly exhibited for money " 
 
 " ! of course not, John dear. Clem did not really 
 mean that he would stake all he had on a chance. He 
 is not a gambler ; not that I myself have seen much harm 
 come of gambling, and Harry pur is an awful place for 
 
80 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 cards, you know. Indeed I was quite shocked to hear 
 the losses of some people people one knew, I mean 
 ladies. There was Miss " 
 
 " Oh, aunt!" cried Mrs. Lassalle, excitedly, " I do so 
 much dislike those old stories! No doubt they are 
 dreadfully exaggerated." 
 
 "No doubt, dear, and I forgot she was a friend of 
 yours. I was just going to say that no mischief came of 
 all this gambling that I heard of. It is unlady-like, 
 because excitement gives a disagreeable and indeed an 
 objectionable expression to the eyes, and people's hands 
 get dirty at cards I don't know why. I have always 
 strongly disapproved it, but there is nothing to ser- 
 monise about." 
 
 The dear, dull, honest old Judge was positively pale 
 with shocked surprise. " Do I understand, Martha," he 
 said, slowly, " that ladies whom we know at Harry pur, 
 who come to our house perhaps, are in the habit of 
 playing cards for money ? " 
 
 " Oh, of course, John ! Don't be so severe. Every- 
 one knows it. People must amuse themselves somehow 
 in this wretched country." 
 
 The Judge continued solemnly, " Will you think for 
 an instant whither this practice may lead a female ? As 
 a rule, she has not money within her reach. It is her 
 husband's, or her children's, which she risks, and, of 
 
CAPTAIN KAWDON. 81 
 
 course, loses to a vicious man. As a counsel I have seen 
 what this leads to, and the recollection is one of the most 
 painful in my experience. I " 
 
 " There!" interrupted Mrs. Dawson, as Mrs. Lassalle 
 left the table, " you are always so serious, John. Lucy 
 could not bear to listen, for some of her own friends in 
 Harrypur used to play an innocent game at cards." 
 
 u Which of them? I insist on knowing." 
 
 " Take the evidence in camera, sir ! " cried Rawdon, 
 laughing. 
 
 " Your delicacy rebukes me, Arthur 1 But I am 
 much disturbed by one thing or another. We shall see 
 you again before you leave ? " 
 
 " As often as you like, Judge ! " Rawdon answered, 
 heartily. 
 
 The young men retired to smoke. " Well ? " said 
 Clem, after a pause. 
 
 " It would be a shame if any one could stop it. Your 
 cousin is a child, as you say. The man she loved could 
 do anything with her, but he must use a silken bit. 
 It is a mighty tender mouth, and a mighty restive dis- 
 position." 
 
 " What a happy thing it would be if you could break 
 her yourself ! " said Clem, with some embarrassment. 
 
 " Aren't you ashamed I" cried Rawdon, laughing and 
 colouring, "to bait a trap for a friend in your own house? 
 Tell me what sort of a man was Lassalle." 
 
 G 
 
82 ON THE BOKDERLANDe 
 
 " A noble fellow ! Everyone loved him excepting 
 Lucy, who, short of that, was as fond as a woman can 
 be of a man. He did not intend to marry on such terms, 
 but his health suddenly gave way. I remember the 
 dear old fellow talking of Lucy much as you did just 
 now. He said she was not a girl to live in this Indian 
 hot-house, with her impulsive disposition and flighty 
 head. It was, I believe, as much for her sake as for 
 his own that Lassalle married her before sailing. He 
 had no idea how ill he was. Lucy made no sacrifice at 
 all ; you will recollect that she had not a farthing. 
 They would have been as loving and as happy as they 
 deserved, but Lassalle died in Italy on his way home." 
 
 " A sad story ! Here , if I know the voice, comes his 
 successor." 
 
 " Absit omen ! But it's Darner ; all alive, as usual !" 
 
 The study looked towards the approach, where no one 
 yet was visible. But a mellow voice lilting an old- 
 fashioned song preceded the visitor, who quickly came 
 into sight, riding down the breakneck path. " No 
 question of the fellow's pluck!" murmured Clem. ** He 
 would gallop down the khud as soon as not." 
 
 Eawdon looked at the man approaching with new 
 interest. Familiar to him for several years past were 
 the thin, well-cut features, the eyes clear and keen as 
 a hawk's, and the light, vigorous frame. What Eawdon 
 sought was the token of a mind which would guide and 
 
CAPTAIN RAWDON. 83 
 
 control the wayward impulses of a high-spirited girl. 
 He sought in vain. Darner's intellect answered every 
 call he made upon it. None more shrewd to see where 
 interest lay, to grasp the means of securing it, and to 
 circumvent the adversary. "With him such operations 
 of the brain seemed instinctive, and the cleverest schemers 
 seldom triumphed over this noisy athlete. But when 
 personal advantage was not concerned he seemed in- 
 capable of thought. Imagination easily pictures the 
 married life of a soulless being, all vivacity and " go " 
 fits of eager passion and then forgetfulness, neglect the 
 more galling because unconscious, reproaches met by 
 blank surprise, sullen anger and impatience; worst of all, 
 the passion-fit again. How long would Lucy endure 
 this? 
 
 "Sell arms and like 'em! "cried Darner, throwing 
 his leg over the pommel. " That's Arabic for how d'ye 
 do ! Here, you nigger, take away this precious, blessed 
 pony, and worship him in the stable, but don't take the 
 saddle off! So old Blank has made you his A.D.C., 
 Rawdon! What luck! I should have liked to back 
 myself first spear at the Pathans! Where's Lucy, 
 Clem?" 
 
 '* Listening for the echo of your footsteps, no doubt. 
 You're training her for a steeplechase, aren't you ? " 
 
 " No chance ! Lucy could sit in a saddle before I 
 G2 
 
84 ON TI1E BOltDEKLAND. 
 
 knew her, but she will never ride. Too jumpy ! Doesn't 
 understand a horse ! " 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " Well, at the start she runs away. The poor brute 
 thinks he is to gallop in earnest, and then Lucy squeals ! 
 You bring him up five minutes later she is off again, 
 to renew the same performance. Ask her if she'd like 
 a jump? Oh, above everything, the biggest that ever 
 was faced. At it she goes, as bold as Assheton Smith, 
 but saws the horse's head round as he's taking off, and 
 squalls. One might teach Mrs. Dawson to ride, but not 
 Lucy! I was just telling these men that you are the 
 most hopeless pupil 1 ever had." 
 
 ic That's what stupid teachers say. I'm sure Sir 
 Arthur would make allowance for a lady's nervousness." 
 Darner glanced at the baronet angrily. The latter 
 replied: u I'm sorry I cannot prove upon the spot that 
 you do me no more than justice." 
 
 " You are not going to ride with us ? " 
 
 " Unless you go towards the club, it is impossible." 
 
 The little widow curled her lip scornfully, saying: 
 " I publicly retract my late opinion, advanced upon in- 
 sufficient knowledge, as the Judge would say. Can you 
 spare the time to help me to mount ? " 
 
 " I could almost wish you set me a less pleasant 
 duty," murmured Rawdon, as he offered his arm, Darner 
 
CAPTAIN RAWDON. 85 
 
 turning sulkily away. u Pleasures should be given to 
 those who deserve them." 
 
 " Is it such a treat to toss a lady into the saddle ?" 
 " Under certain circumstances it may be." 
 " What are they?" asked Lucy, with her pretty foot 
 in Rawdon's hand. " When the lady has hoofs ? " And 
 she rode away. 
 
 Sir Arthur was dining that night with one of the 
 hospitable magnates of Simla at a table exquisitely 
 appointed, with fountains, fishponds, goddesses, forests, 
 looking-glasses, and I know not what. The menu was 
 worthy of Paris ; the ladies if not beautiful, were beau- 
 tifully dressed, and full of talk. There are a few great 
 houses in Simla where the most captious can scarcely 
 hit a fault, and this was one of them. The arrival of 
 the Dawsons was judiciously put forward as a topic by 
 Sir Arthur, and from the ladies first, afterwards from 
 the gentlemen, he obtained certain hints and sugges- 
 tions. They grieved but scarcely surprised him. Later 
 in the evening he found Darner in the club cardroom, 
 playing high, as usual ; but losing, which was quite 
 the reverse. Upon whispered consultation with the 
 " gallery," Rawdon learned that this run of ill-fortune 
 had been constant since Darner's arrival. In three days 
 he had dropped much more than ten thousand rupees, 
 and report said that this loss only followed heavy 
 reverses on the turf. 
 
86 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 When he first joined the service Rawdon was an 
 enthusiastic player at all games of skill. A poor man, 
 with those artistic and luxurious tastes which are more 
 expensive than rakish living, he soon found that his 
 gains at whist, billiards, e'carte, and so on, came in very 
 usefully. The fascination of gambling never mastered 
 him, but he became known over India as a grand joueur. 
 As such he had met Damer often, and, upon the whole, 
 had won from him ; this was some years before. A very 
 sad event, with which he was innocently concerned, put 
 a sudden end to Rawdon's play. From that hour he 
 had never touched a card nor made a bet, and the 
 excitement was considerable when, at the break-up 
 of the whist party, Rawdon took Darner's challenge 
 addressed to the whole room. They played e'carte till 
 the sun was up, and a member of the committee inter- 
 fered. Damer had lost a very large amount, and he 
 reeled like a drunken man ; though never in his life had 
 he tasted aught more stimulating than soda-water and 
 Worcester sauce a Simla drink, which I earnestly com- 
 mend to a generation tired of w lemon-squeezes." 
 
 Upon awakening at the unholy hour of 9 a.m., Raw- 
 don found Clem sitting by his bed. " Is there anything 
 new ? " he asked. 
 
 " News enough when Arthur Rawdon takes to cards 
 again. I've heard of your tournament last night. Are 
 you ?o wideawake yet as to talk with a man who has 
 
CAPTAIN RAWDON. 87 
 
 three hours in the day the start of you ? Well, then, I 
 want to tell you what took place last night. When they 
 returned from riding, Darner had the sulks, and Lucy 
 was absurdly upright and dignified in a way that I 
 remember when we were children. After dinner I took 
 an opportunity to ask again whether she had anything 
 on her mind, and she burst into tears." 
 " A lover's quarrel, perhaps ! " 
 
 " Wait. I offered consolation, as you may suppose, 
 but she only sobbed, < No, you are too good, all of you. 
 I have played the fool, and I must pay.' There was 
 something in her manner that alarmed me. Rawdon, I 
 should not tell you this had you not taken my words 
 yesterday as you did. I think you are interested in our 
 trouble." 
 
 His face showed that he was. Clem went on, "I 
 could not say what I suspected. Something, no doubt, 
 appeared in my face, for Lucy rose suddenly, pushing 
 me away with all her strength. * How dare you ? ' she 
 whispered. My mother was asleep in the room. I 
 never saw the girl so lovely. I muttered something, I 
 don't know what, following her to the door. There she 
 put out a trembling, hot hand, and said, ' I have brought 
 it all on myself! It is not your fault! But don't 
 don't talk about me to Sir Arthur?' I break my pro- 
 mise for her good." 
 
88 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 Rawdon lay silent for a little while, observing with 
 interest the proceedings of his bearer, engaged in the 
 absorbing task of putting studs into a shirt. This opera- 
 tion apparently gave the baronet extreme and concen- 
 trated pleasure. He said at length, " I fancy, Clem, 
 that I have discovered something ; but it is only fancy. 
 The worst is that I have so little time before me. I 
 hope to carry this affair through myself; but you will 
 be glad to know that, if I am right, you can take up 
 the cards after my departure there, see how one night's 
 relapse has deteriorated my conversation ! I will call 
 before tiffin." 
 
 Clem arranged that his cousin should be alone in the 
 drawing-room. She stood at a window, so fixed in 
 thought that Rawdon approached unheard. "Is it the 
 Snows or the roses you are admiring so intently?" he 
 asked. 
 
 " I don't care much for either. Both are common 
 here!" 
 
 16 One soon exhausts the novelties of life. How did 
 the riding-lesson progress?" 
 
 " Mr. Darner lost his temper. He says I have no 
 courage." 
 
 *' Would you not have liked to sit on a balcony and 
 see a score of poor wretches break each other's heads in 
 honour of you, as * the Queen of Beauty ' ? " 
 
CAPTAIN EAWDON. 89 
 
 " Dearly ! That is, they needn't actually break heads." 
 
 " A good make-believe would be near enough ? And 
 would you give your hand to the victor?" 
 
 " I know I should, but I might repent afterwards. 
 By-the-bye, Sir Arthur, I have lost my gloves.' 5 
 
 " I will order some from Phelps." 
 
 " Thank you. I prefer my own. And I fancy you 
 know where they are." 
 
 "I? If so, why should I not return them?" 
 
 " I cannot imagine. But the spirit you saw yesterday 
 tells me they are in your breast-pocket." 
 
 Kawdon displayed the lining. " I wish," he said, 
 " that sweet spirit could read my heart." 
 
 " It would find my gloves there ! " she exclaimed, 
 stretching out her hands like a child, and withdrawing 
 them with a blush. 
 
 " What sort of gloves are they? Describe them." 
 
 " Oh, the commonest things possible ! Only fit to be 
 worn on hoofs, hooves, what is it? Seriously, Captain 
 Sir Arthur Eawdon, you have no right to keep my 
 gloves. It is stealing ! " 
 
 " And seriously, Mrs. Lassalle, I will not part with 
 my talisman." 
 
 Lucy turned away, vexed to find that she was not 
 vexed. And Mr. Dawson entered with Darner. No 
 misfortune could depress that buoyant spirit. Watch- 
 ing him with new interest, Rawdon saw that he was not 
 
90 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 consciously or wantonly bad. He had no more sense of 
 propriety than has a hawk ; that was all. 
 
 That night Kawdon gave a farewell dinner at the 
 club. The dignitaries who attended left early, and the 
 remaining convives adjourned to the card-room. It was 
 silently understood that Darner and Rawdon meant a 
 duel a entrance. As they sat down to ecarte, the former 
 named stakes unusually high even in that high -playing 
 community. Rawdon bowed, and the match began. 
 Needless to follow its chances. After a run of luck 
 which his adversary's skill reduced to a minimum of 
 profit, Darner fell back into his evil vein. Chit after 
 chit he drew, withdrew, and tore up, until the carpet 
 was whitened with paper ; but always the chit exchanged 
 grew to a larger and larger sum. When turned out of 
 the club, the maddened gambler seized the chance of 
 " breaking his luck," but ill-fate pursued him to Rawdon's 
 bedroom. Clem and two or three more looked on. 
 
 At seven o'clock Rawdon put down the cards. 
 u Enough," he said; " if you gentlemen of the gallery 
 will square your accounts, Darner and I can settle in 
 private." Five minutes afterwards they were alone. 
 It was an ugly picture which the dull morning lighted. 
 Rawdon was calm but very white, his tie hung loose 
 down the crumpled shirt-front, and the Bowers at his 
 button hole looked like a bunch of withered leaves. 
 Darner's face was purple, and he rested it on closed fists, 
 
CAPTAIN RAWDON. 91 
 
 black with dust. " This is the amount you have lost/' 
 said Rawdon, " and here is last night's chit. You can 
 discharge the sum without inconvenience, I suppose; 
 but, if you desire it, I will suggest a means to escape 
 the trouble of raising so much money at short notice. 
 Shall I go on?" 
 
 Darner nodded. His mouth quivered so with hope 
 that he could not speak. 
 
 " I believe," Eawdon continued, u that certain chits, 
 signed by ladies of Harrypur, have fallen into your pos- 
 session. Hand them over to Dawson, here present, and 
 I burn these papers." 
 
 " I refuse! " screamed Damer, springing up. " You 
 have cheated me out of all I possess, and with the swag 
 you would buy Lucy from me. Never ! " 
 
 "Very well! You know that I leave Simla the day 
 after to-morrow. I shall take the usual steps before 
 going, and in my absence Dawson will act for me. I 
 warn you that the first moneys paid in will be devoted 
 to the redemption of those papers." 
 
 "No, no!" cried Clem, snatching out his cheque- 
 book. " I shall pay the amount this instant. How 
 much is it, sir? " 
 
 " You cannot mean this, Rawdon ? I am ruined, and, 
 if you press me, I must leave the service ! " 
 
 " The woman you have persecuted may show you 
 mercy, but men will not." 
 
92 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 " Then do what you like ! Lucy has sworn to be true 
 to me, bound or free ! And I would hold her to it, 
 though we both died on the instant." 
 
 " If you can trust her," said Clem, disdainfully, " why 
 not give up the chits ? They are no more use to you, 
 now the truth is known." 
 
 Damer saw that instantly. After one moment's hesi- 
 tation he took a sealed envelope from his pocket-book, 
 and threw it on the table with an oath. " Debit me 
 with the amount, Captain Rawdon ! " he cried, and went 
 out bareheaded into the rain. 
 
 Kawdon went to bed, but Clem could not sleep till he 
 had acquainted Lucy with her deliverance. Wondering, 
 she came to him in a dressing-gown, with her beautiful 
 flaxen hair about her shoulders. Clem kissed her, and 
 gave her the envelope, which she opened, trembling. 
 Her joy did not take the form expected. Too shame- 
 faced to look up, she whispered : " How did you get 
 these shameful things ? " 
 
 " Rawdon guessed your secret, and he made Damer 
 give them up." 
 
 Lucy burst into tears. " Oh! Clem, T would rather 
 have died or married that man," she sobbed. " I can 
 never see him again! When did he guess? Before he 
 came here ? " 
 
 u He guessed it the first day he saw you." 
 
 This assurance evidently gave comfort. *' But I can 
 
CAPTAIN RAWDON. 93 
 
 never see him again. I should die ! And he is coming 
 to-night ! " 
 
 u It will be the last time. Surely you ought to thank 
 him!" 
 
 " I would as soon kill him ! I am very, very grateful, 
 Clem, indeed, but don't ask me to thank him ! " 
 
 " Well, I shall tell Arthur all you say, and how you 
 look in a dressing-gown, and how long your hair is, and 
 anything else that occurs to me as we talk over your 
 conduct,' 5 
 
 " You won't!" 
 
 u I vow I will, unless you promise to thank him." 
 
 " I promise ! " But she never meant to keep her 
 word. 
 
 " Now I am going to bed, child. By-the-bye, Damer 
 is certain you will marry him all the same/' 
 
 " I ? " Laughing with a heartiness almost hysterical, 
 she ran out of the room. Fol qui sy fie! thought Clem. 
 That silvery peal was not for Darner's wedding. 
 
 The Dawsons had a large dinner-party that evening, 
 but one dripping syce after another rode up to present 
 excuses for the ladies. Distances at Simla are very 
 great, and such rain justified non-attendance even at a 
 Viceregal dinner. When the only conveyance is a pony 
 or a jampan, weather is a most serious consideration. 
 Gentlemen arrived, some half-dozen, and amongst the 
 rest Damer. The unexpected sight of him earned Lucy 
 
94 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 forgiveness from her cousin. That faithless little widow 
 dressed elaborately, and made ostentatious show of de- 
 scending, until Mrs. Dawson had left her, and the 
 guests began to arrive. Then she sent a pretty note of 
 excuse, donned a peignoir, and put her slippered feet 
 upon the fender. 
 
 Everything is known at Simla, and all present saving 
 the Dawsons were aware that Darner had lost a sum 
 beyond his power of payment. They watched both 
 winner and loser with great curiosity, but nothing hap- 
 pened at all. Darner was pale and hollow-eyed, but 
 quite himself, laughing a tort et a travers with even 
 more than usual volubility. Mrs. Dawson, the only 
 lady present, withdrew early, and the gentlemen retired 
 to that small room beside the porch already mentioned. 
 As they laughed and talked, the rain softly pattered, and 
 Rawdon observed that a few more such unseasonable 
 days would make the bungalow an unsafe dwelling. 
 
 " Oh ! " said the Judge, " I have examined the rock 
 myself. There is not a house in Simla more secure." 
 
 At this moment a sudden smart blow upon the roof 
 called every man to his feet, pale with alarm. Quick as 
 thought began an awful din, rattle of pebbles falling, 
 thud of great rocks, crash of breaking timbers. An 
 instant before, the windows had been opened. Men 
 threw themselves out, one on another. As Rawdon, 
 the last, ran up the path, with a roar and heave as of 
 
CAPTAIN KAWDON. 95 
 
 an earthquake, the ponderous reef fell outwards. Flying 
 pebbles knocked him down, but he rose, after a moment, 
 bruised and bleeding. Ten yards further Clem seized 
 him in his arms, springing from behind a tree. 
 
 "Lucy?" he cried, " your mother? 5 ' shouting in 
 Clem's ear above the crash. The bewildered reply was 
 scarcely audible. Turning, he saw light through a 
 hurtling storm of missiles, and ran again towards the 
 house. The rock had fallen solidly over portico and 
 dining-room, and lay above their ruins. Pressing to the 
 cliff, where the volley of stones flew mostly overhead, 
 he made his way, clinging to roots and crevices. 
 From the summit of the pile the candle-light was visible 
 again, shining through a rugged gap in the party-wall. 
 The flight of small stones had slackened, but boulders 
 tumbling headlong down splintered on the rock like 
 shells. Again and again Rawdon fell. Hours it seemed, 
 but five minutes had not passed before he stood beneath 
 the aperture, and entered. 
 
 The room was full of smoke and dust. He snatched 
 up the candle and looked round. The girl lay close 
 behind the door, white and lifeless. No hope of return- 
 ing the way he came with that burden in his arms ! 
 Using all his strength, Rawdon forced the door open, 
 caught her up, and ran down the passage. Ominous 
 blows upon the roof distracted him. Black as a pit was 
 the corridor. Letting the girl drop, he rushed back. 
 
y6 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 Little flames began to play amongst the boards, where 
 embers had sprung from the fireplace. By the candle's 
 light Rawdon found the back staircase, and tumbled 
 down it somehow, his light burden resumed out by 
 the cook-house, and into the pine-wood. The ground 
 sloped rapidly. A slip might dash them to pieces, and 
 the soil was slippery with rain. Fifty yards from the 
 house, he dared go no further in that darkness. 
 
 The clash of falling stones had not ceased, and the 
 danger was undiminished. But, whilst Rawdon watched 
 painfully, a dim glow spread over the ruin, the outline 
 of the shattered windows shaped itself, and then in a 
 few moments all that wretched scene was lighted by the 
 burning house. Rawdon picked up his charge, still 
 unconscious, and hastily carried her on, by the growing 
 flames. They failed him suddenly. Another roar, 
 another shock, which made the pine-trees tremble, and 
 threw him headlong down ! The rest of the cliff had fallen. 
 
 To wake in darkness, not knowing where you are, 
 and feel human fingers about your throat, is a test for 
 nerves. Rawdon bore it stoically. He says that instinct 
 kept him quiet. Though conscious, he said nothing, 
 whilst Lucy passed her hands over his face. The noise 
 had ceased. All was still in the wood. " Dead!" he 
 heard her sob. " Dead to save me ! " 
 
 " I am not dead, Lucy ! " Rawdon murmured. " Put 
 your hand on my lips and revive me." 
 
CAPTAIN RAWDON. 97 
 
 "Sir Arthur!" she cried with a little scream; "I 
 thought it was " 
 
 " Never mind ! Your gloves are On my heart, Lucy, 
 and I can't stir a limb." 
 
 " If you would like to keep them " 
 
 " No ! It was stealing." 
 
 " I give them to you." 
 
 " If you are in the mood to give, it is not enough. 
 Put your hand in mine, darling. Will you let it rest 
 there for ever ? " 
 
 She made no reply, but cried softly. " Will you not 
 answer?" he asked. 
 
 She whispered, " Am I worthy, Arthur ?" 
 
 " You shall have no flattery from your husband. 
 Kiss me, darling ! I hear voices ! " 
 
 She put her wet face to his, u 1 will be worthy of my 
 hero!" 
 
 Torches gleamed among the trees above. Active 
 little Ghoorkas, tall Sikhs, and Pathan mountaineers of 
 the Viceroy's bodyguard were scrambling bravely down. 
 Clem, the Judge, and Darner, were heard ; but none 
 ventured to pretend a hope he did not feel by shouting. 
 " Call to them, Lucy ! " whispered Rawdon, " my voice 
 is gone." 
 
 " Oh, Arthur, I have not asked, I have not thought, 
 of my poor aunt ! How selfish and wicked I am ! " 
 
 " I am almost sure she is saved. Cry out, dear ! " 
 
 H 
 
98 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 His fainting voice alarmed her, and she screamed for 
 help. Five minutes more, and he was being carried to 
 the nearest bungalow, unable to restrain his moans. 
 
 So Captain Sir Arthur Rawdon, R. A., did not go to 
 the war. In the spring, when all the valley was aflame 
 with rhododendrons, he married Lucy. And on the 
 same day, in a bleak gorge in Afghanistan, Lieut. 
 Darner and his small baggage-guard stood in a ring of fire 
 through the long forenoon. He is recommended for the 
 Victoria Cross ; and Lucy vows, since that news came, 
 her husband has put a new significance into his accent 
 when he calls her u dear." 
 
 Ladies' gambling has been suppressed at Harrypur, 
 though Mrs. Dawson declares that no mischief ever 
 came of it. 
 
99 
 
 SEPOY AND ARAB. 
 
 VERY little has been published, so far as I gather, 
 that even suggests the point of view our Indian troops 
 adopted during the late war. But this question is, in 
 truth, far graver than the mere issue of a campaign. It 
 may reasonably be hoped that the British soldier will 
 always emulate the deeds of his ancestry. Though he 
 had sustained a check at Tel-el-Kebir, the issue would 
 have been only deferred. But for the Sepoy it was all 
 new experience, and more important matters lay at stake 
 than victory in the field. It was not the first time he 
 had left India for active service, but an Afghan war is a 
 special thing for him. Even the Moslem Sepoy loses 
 sight of the community of creed under the influence of 
 inherited hatred and traditional wrongs. The only other 
 case I recollect where operations were carried on for a 
 length of time against Sunni Mahomedans was the 
 Perak affair. But the Indian would not feel that a 
 Malay was his co-religionist, nor could he get up enthu- 
 siasm for a people whose civilisation is so conspicuously 
 inferior to his own. It was all otherwise in Egypt. 
 The name of the land was familiar, sanctified in some 
 
 H2 
 
100 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 degree by constant allusion in pious legends. The 
 language of the foe is a sacred mystery to the Faithful, 
 the people are conspicuous as descended from the com- 
 panions of the Prophet. Their civilisation is Moslem, 
 modified by the same influences from Frangistan which 
 irritate the Indian Faithful. It was a great trial of 
 loyalty the Sepoy underwent, and his behaviour under 
 the circumstances might well claim the notice of thought- 
 ful men. 
 
 Government, no doubt, has confidential reports in 
 abundance, showing what those best qualified to see 
 and estimate the facts thought upon the subject. But 
 the public, as I understand, has no information. This 
 lack is owing not to want of " enterprise " in the press, 
 nor, we may hope, to want of ability in the correspond- 
 ents. It is due to the action of Lord "Wolseley, which 
 I have no need to criticise. He recognised but one 
 army in the field, his own, to which one correspondent 
 was allotted. " Indian Contingent " was a phrase he 
 would not accept, and those members of the press who 
 had left London expressly to join it, in the hope of 
 marching across the desert, were enjoined to stay at 
 Ismailia. The " Indian Contingent," if I may be 
 allowed to use the words, went to the front, leaving its 
 chroniclers behind. The single correspondent attached 
 to Lord Wolseley's direct command had work enough, 
 detailing the actions and feelings of the English troops. 
 
SEPOY AND ARAB. 101 
 
 So it happened that the special work of the Sepoys, and 
 of their British comrades also, passed unrecorded. Who 
 knows what took place on the south side of the canal 
 during the fight at Tel-el-Kebir? In one or two 
 instances, such as the seizure of Zagazig, the admirable 
 service of the Indians could not be overlooked. But 
 there was not, nor could be, any report of the Sepoys' 
 behaviour, such as thoughtful people must have wished 
 to hear. My own opportunities for remark were meagre, 
 but I used them as I could. Let it be premised that I 
 am not describing sentiments necessarily permanent. 
 Eeflection, possibly the charm of distance, and the 
 influence of piously political superiors, may weaken the 
 feelings prevailing at the time. I should not incline to 
 think they will, but we shall see. 
 
 Generally speaking, then, the impressions of the Sepoys 
 appeared to be contempt and dislike. For the Mahome- 
 dans amongst them, the consciousness of a common creed 
 only intensified this feeling. It was a practice of the 
 Egyptians, after we reached Cairo, to spread their carpets 
 and pray ostentatiously in the neighbourhood of Indian 
 troops ; Pathans once displayed the same illusion. But 
 they took little by the silent appeal. The Sepoys looked 
 on with interest, but it was not friendly. Once I saw 
 a group of soldiers belonging to the 20th N.I., who 
 actually critised the performance. Probably they re- 
 marked some difference in the manner of genuflection. 
 
102 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 For reasons that I did not understand, the Khedive per- 
 sonally was regarded with especial contempt. An officer 
 suggested that this might be the outcome of Turkish 
 intrigues in Hindustan, and it is possible. I have 
 sometimes thought that if the Moslem Sepoys had been 
 introduced to Cairo at the outset its wealth, and palaces, 
 and order they might have been otherwise impressed ; 
 but their minds were made up before they reached that 
 place. Though they delight in show, and respect costly 
 appearance, Arab magnificence did not impress them. I 
 remember the visit which Sultan Pasha and his suite paid 
 to Colonel Sir Owen Lanyon in Ismailia. I chanced to 
 come up whilst the horses stood outside. Their trap- 
 pings were handsome, if eccentric to our eyes, especially 
 those of the chief; blue velvet with gold and silver 
 fringes, and what not. A number of Sepoys stood 
 round, with contemptuous curiosity in their faces, mak- 
 ing remarks. Said an Afridi sergeant, nearer seven feet 
 high than six feet, with an oath so forcibly dramatic 
 that I regret to suppress it lt I swear if that horse 
 trotted into our village we should say the Ameer was 
 coming to durbar ; but when they saw its rider our 
 women would laugh ! " That observation gives a key- 
 note to the sentiments prevailing before and after. 
 
 The least observant of spectators felt, as he saw the 
 Indians traverse an Arab throng, " What gentlemen 
 they look ! " To tell the whole truth here, the same 
 
SEPOY AND ARAB. 103 
 
 remark arose when the throng traversed was of English 
 soldiery. But our men, dirty and pallid, in the hideous 
 unserviceable dress supplied them, bore the stamp of 
 qualities more important than good looks. The Arab 
 has none of them at every point he offended the Sepoy. 
 Disregard of that elementary respect for others, which 
 forbids a man to tramp upon his neighbour's toes in mere 
 carelessness and brutality, must be resented the whole 
 world over by men who carry arms, and are ready to use 
 them. Accordingly, we find so much courtesy universal 
 among fighting races. The Pathan, in his native wilds, 
 is, perhaps, the very roughest of all animals, but he has a 
 code of manners, suggested and strictly limited by the 
 sword. A very brief service in our ranks, among the more 
 polished races of the plain, enlarges his ideas. But the 
 Egyptian Arab has no check outside, and no instinct 
 within, to guide him. His nature, or his acquired nature, 
 is more selfish and offensive than that of any people known 
 to me, and it is unmitigated by the restraint of fear. None 
 of his neighbours have spirit to cut him down, whatever 
 vagaries he may play. And so he dances on their corns 
 in cheerfulness of soul. More than that, he is sincerely 
 astonished when susceptible people cry out. 
 
 The bond of religion must be stronger than we see it 
 anywhere at this day to make an Indian Moslem feel that 
 this creature is a brother. The contrast was just as striking 
 as it could be. We hourly observed a working party of 
 
104 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 Sepoys pushing through a crowd of natives. Their 
 loose jackets and trousers of fatigue dress were scarcely 
 more martial or even more picturesque than the ragged 
 night-gown of the Arab. The turban, indeed, or puggri, 
 with a loose end fluttering to the waist, is always superb. 
 But the faces, the manner, the expression, were a cruel 
 reproach to the African. Half-a-dozen Sepoys yonder 
 are pushing a cart. Perhaps they belong to that grand 
 regiment, the 20th N.I., distinguished by the black tips 
 of their puggris, stately Sikhs, or giant Pathans, or 
 lithe Rajputs. They are not working very hard. Half 
 their energy is expended on the rear, or on either flank, 
 where passing comrades fling banter, manly, though 
 indecorous, as is martial wit everywhere. They laugh 
 long and open-mouthed, throwing back their handsome 
 heads, displaying snow-white teeth to drive a dentist to 
 despair. Their eyes large, well- opened show the fun 
 of spirited schoolboys in their clear light. Though the 
 jokes they bandy are not refined, nor very witty, they 
 are the humour of strong men who respect themselves 
 and one another. When an officer-Sahib comes by, 
 decorous quiet supervenes. Those disengaged, salute ; 
 the others gravely put both hands to the task. When 
 he has gone, the jest breaks out again. So they sweep, 
 without more notice than a shove and a frown, through 
 the sordid, leering, hideous crowd of Arabs, halt and 
 maim, one-eyed, foul, bestial of expression. 
 
SEPOY AND ARAB. 105 
 
 Observe that little group of Sepoys returning from 
 their task grave men these, probably Sikhs, superb in 
 manly beauty. They walk hand in hand, talking among 
 themselves. They laugh readily with each other, but 
 seldom join the Pathan jokes. I remember once, when 
 snowed up in the Kojak Pass, that a Sikh of the 2 6th 
 N.I. was asked the name of his file-fellow, an Afridi. 
 They had enlisted at the same time, and had served 
 twelve years side by side ; but neither would confess a 
 knowledge of the other's name. There go half-a-dozen 
 Madras Sappers, small men, broad-chested, and sturdy- 
 limbed, soldiers every inch, and kindly fellows too. They 
 have not the fine features, nor the large clear eyes, of the 
 Aryan. Their skin is black like a negro's, and the 
 whole type resembles the African on a smaller scale, 
 but trimmer and brighter. In dark uniform, with a 
 jetty handkerchief about their brows, a company of 
 Sappers marching in the desert looks like a black square 
 on the chess-board, moving. There are no better nor 
 pleasanter soldiers in our army. A majority speak Eng- 
 lish, more or less, and many are fluent. When they 
 went up the Khyber, in the Afghan war, our native 
 troops stared to hear them easily conversing with the 
 Sahibs, and emulation stirred not a few Aryan Sepoys 
 to undertake a fitful study of English. I fear it is quite 
 possible that, if we watched these good fellows closely, a 
 grave and silent lurch might be remarked from time to 
 
106 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 time, for the evil correlating their docile and excellent 
 qualities is shown in a partiality for the white man's 
 liquor. But there are few troops whom one would stand 
 with so confidently as the Madras Sappers. 
 
 A very different type is the Beloochi, wild and pic- 
 turesque, in dark green puggri and scarlet breeches. He 
 has that wandering eye that marks the savage only half- 
 tamed. We have few real Beloochis in our ranks, disci- 
 pline is too strict for them ; but a crowd of natives from 
 the broken frontier clans fighting men all. The long 
 hair of some has escaped in the heat of work, and streams 
 behind in glossy ringlets, twisted amongst the flowing 
 drapery of the turban. And there go troopers of the 
 Bengal cavalry, tall, broad-shouldered, slender of waist 
 and hips. For martial bearing they have no equal in 
 the armies of the world, and their fine costume does 
 them justice. The blue-striped puggri folded round a 
 scarlet peak, the long blue coat with scarlet sash, tight 
 yellow trousers and jack-boots, put to shame the fan- 
 tastic frippery of European tailors. In their ranks, 
 generally, we find the most devoted Moslem, for the 
 neighbourhood of Delhi is a favourite recruiting-ground. 
 A droll incident recurs to mind. Marching once through 
 Scindh, our little party had a local chief for guide, 
 and a Jemadhar with two troopers for escort. The guide 
 explained, as we rode along, certain abstruse questions of 
 the Faith, making a delicious hash of law and prophets. 
 
SEPOY AND ARAB. 107 
 
 Our Jemadhar was the most polite of men what a lovely 
 Arab he rode, by-the-by ! But he loved Islam, and the 
 ignorant rattle of this unorthodox Scindhi stirred his 
 indignation. The troopers were not less angry, and 
 they all pressed upon us, their very horses becoming 
 unmanageable. Colonel Tucker ordered them back in 
 vain. They would not retire until the puzzled Scindhi 
 understood that he was talking nonsense, and then our 
 little diversion carne to an end. The path narrowing, 
 he fell behind with the Jemadhar. It was but an 
 instant's interruption. We heard murmurs, guttural in 
 their emphasis, and, when our guide rejoined us, he said 
 frankly, " I don't much of the subject we've been talking 
 about. But, I swear, Colonel Sahib, that no respectable 
 man in our neighbourhood knows more." 
 
 Among those Sowars passing, one should trace sym- 
 pathy with the Arab Moslem, if it existed anywhere 
 in our ranks. But they feel contempt for him almost 
 furious. One trooper questioned would not admit they 
 were his co-religionists, though mosques stared us in 
 the face, and two believers were praying within a few 
 yards. "We did not insist on a burning question, and 
 what the Sowar meant I cannot tell; he was a Pathan, 
 and possibly Shiah; or, possibly, such a bad Moslem as 
 not to recognise his fellows. One of the 6th B.C. summed 
 up the opinion of the ranks concisely. Asked if his 
 regiment had cut up many fugitives after Tel-el-Kebir, 
 
108 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 he answered with the strongest disgust, " How could 
 men use a sword against stinking jackals? We rode 
 many down ! " The peculiar justice of the description 
 may be appreciated only by those who have visited 
 Egypt. The screaming and barking of an Arab crowd, 
 all in full cry at once, the shrill snarling and foaming, 
 make a din very like that of a pack of jackals. The 
 adjective needs no explanation ; its simple truth is 
 certified by the dullest of noses. 
 
 I had interesting talks with Monsieur Ninet, Arabi's 
 Swiss friend, who avowedly counselled and sympathised, 
 if he did not suggest, the uprising. He is acquainted 
 with many Egyptians who, in all respects, would bear 
 comparison with their fellows of the same class else- 
 where. And he pins all his faith upon the fellaheen. 
 I believe M. Ninet to be as truthful and conscientious as 
 an enthusiast can be, and I would not join issue on this 
 question. For, by his own account, these good people 
 stay at home, crying woe and anathema, whilst the bad 
 monopolise the sunshine and the public notice. As for 
 the fellahs, the undistinguishable mass, the dumb mul- 
 titude of toilers, perhaps they are virtuous. Rustics less 
 hard-worked, better fed, find little time, if they have the 
 inclination, to concoct villany. But they are not less 
 brutal of manner than the townspeople, and they are, 
 if possible, yet more strangely unconscious of such primi- 
 tive decency as a well-bred animal exhibits. I do not 
 
SEPOY AND ARAB. 109 
 
 allude to the habit of stripping stark when there is work 
 to be done. So did their forefathers in every age, and 
 nothing more need be said. But the Sepoy was shocked 
 above all else by habits paralleled among the wild Pathans 
 alone in my experience of the world. And one cannot 
 readily believe that people who do not feel or under- 
 stand proprieties instinctive with all but the lowest races 
 of humanity or, as in the case of the Pathans, avowedly 
 cynical and vicious can be trusted to possess more 
 recondite virtues. 
 
 I would riot speak of the impression which the enemy's 
 behaviour in the field produced upon our Sepoys. 
 It was not quite the same, I think, in both arms 
 engaged. The cavalry had an unmixed joy of gallop, 
 at least in racing after foes who never professed to 
 stand, and they thought it, as one may say, a killing 
 farce. But the infantry were struck by that awful fire 
 which issues from the Remington, as from any breech- 
 loader. It was new to them in practice, and the horror 
 of that din confounded, perhaps, to some degree, their 
 just appreciation of the soldiers who raised it. They 
 certainly return with a deeper sense than ever of Eng- 
 lish superiority in bandabust combination, arrangement, 
 strategy, which circumvented and nullified that hurri- 
 cane of balls. It is not to be understood that the Sepoy 
 flinched ; I should feel shame to contradict such an 
 insinuation if it were hazarded. My whole meaning is 
 
1 10 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 that the native infantry did not despise the Arab soldier 
 as did the Sowar. One of these latter exclaimed, after 
 the gallant dash into Zagazig station, 4< What a gym- 
 kana, Sahib ! " He regarded the business as a series of 
 military larks. 
 
 So far as we can see, the effect of despatching Sepoys 
 to Egypt was all good for the men themselves, for those 
 who stayed at home, and for the Empire. But it was 
 prudent to remove them speedily. To leave them 
 exposed to the influences of the country in peace-time 
 would be a hazardous experiment. From remarks in 
 print at Cairo and Stamboul before the war, we may 
 feel sure that efforts will be made with increasing zeal 
 henceforward to inculcate the sense of solidarite amongst 
 all Moslems. And there is an important class among 
 our Sepoys which would be likely to welcome it when 
 offered. I refer to the Delhi Mohammadans, and all those 
 people immediately affected by the downfall of the Mog- 
 hul Empire. In strolling through the native town, after 
 the fall of Cairo, one saw not a few men, mostly belong- 
 ing to the cavalry, who had established some sort of 
 intelligible relations with the populace. Those who can 
 speak Arabic are very few, if any exist. More Arabs 
 can make themselves understood in Hindustani, and if 
 time were allowed, at some expense and trouble, inter- 
 preters in abundance might be brought from the two 
 Hyderabads and elsewhere. Persian is another link, for 
 
SEPOY AND ARAB. Ill 
 
 a large number of Pathans speak that language more or 
 less. However it was managed, Arab and Sepoy did 
 contrive to talk before we had 'been established many 
 days in Cairo. We might observe knots of townspeople, 
 mostly well dressed, surrounding a couple of our native 
 soldiery in the Bazaar. Obsequiously they listened to the 
 strangers' remarks, and commented on them to a gaping 
 crowd. The rude and boisterous manners of the Egyp- 
 tian are not to be repressed by any motive, since he 
 means no harm, and does not understand why his guile- 
 less brutality should give offence. But until the Cairenes 
 made this discovery they laboured under great disadvan- 
 tages. Opposite the Shoe Bazaar one day, I observed 
 two Sowars talking with earnestness, but with evident 
 difficulty, to a Sayyid. He was grave enough, but the 
 little throng crowded around laughed uproariously in a 
 sympathetic tone. The Sowars broke away in passion, 
 and went on, the Sayyid following. But such misunder- 
 standing would soon have been perceived and rectified 
 by shrewd zealots of El-Azar College and diplomatic 
 emissaries from Stamboul. It was well our Sepoys 
 departed. Their loyalty in the field lies beyond sus- 
 picion. It would be long before the thought of a 
 common cause to fight for, side by side with the 
 " jackals," could seriously be fixed in their minds. But 
 the seeds of a vague Panislamism would not be difficult to 
 plant, if teacher and taught had easy means of communi- 
 
112 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 cation. And, if they proved too feeble to overcome the 
 contempt and disgust which Egyptian Moslem roused, 
 they might ripen slowly under other skies to a perilous 
 harvest. But I feel sure that the influences of the cam- 
 paign have been quite the other sort up to now. 
 
113 
 
 CAPTAIN WRENCH'S ILLUSION. 
 
 MY friend Captain Wrench was thirty-five years old 
 when some extraordinary events took place which he 
 allows me to recount. His life to that age had been active 
 and stirring; he did not understand what "nerves" are, 
 he was quite incapable of poetry, and unfriends described 
 him as a trifler in short, a man very unlikely to expe- 
 rience tricks of imagination. He had returned from 
 India on two years' leave for " urgent private affairs." 
 The plea was no fiction. Although the season had long 
 passed, business was so pressing that he found it needful 
 to have a pied-d-terre in London. After trying a score 
 of hotels, each less comfortable than another, he accepted 
 an old schoolfellow's offer of his rooms in the Temple. 
 Something of camp-life, as it were, a pleasing possibility 
 of the unexpected, clung around those chambers. A 
 man who dwelt therein was encompassed by enemies 
 unseen, whose strategic movements round the door 
 must be met by ceaseless vigilance. Wrench's school- 
 fellow, the best and almost the biggest of men, was more 
 highly esteemed at the cover-side, on the cricket-field, and 
 the river, than at the Temple Treasury more warmly 
 
 I 
 
114 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 welcomed in boudoirs and clubs than at his bank. Before 
 inducting Wrench, he frankly stated that some unreason- 
 able proceedings of a tyrannous gas company forbade 
 him to include the use of their overrated monopoly in 
 the advantages offered. As a general rule, he advised 
 Wrench to distrust all raps at the " oak," and to defeat 
 such treacherous ambuscades by masterly inactivity; and 
 then the good fellow went his way. 
 
 The rooms were a fine example of that conscientious- 
 ness which distinguished our forefathers in all they did. 
 When masons of that period received a commission to 
 build, they raised a structure against which hurricanes 
 and floods would not prevail. Contemporary carpenters 
 had a like honesty. Their beams and panels matched 
 the solid walls. Not a joint had started in two hundred 
 years and more. It was quite a relief for the frivolous 
 modern mind to notice, amidst this display of virtue, 
 that every room of the three inclosed behind two massive 
 u oaks " led into another by two doors, one of which, if 
 not secret, was at least so contrived that even a suspicious 
 woman might easily overlook it; and as they all gave 
 upon the little hall, a client let us say a client could 
 choose a time to escape, though any two rooms of the 
 three were occupied. 
 
 The life Wrench had led rubs the freshness from all 
 novelty. A strange place was as familiar to him in half- 
 an-hour as it was likely to be in a month ; and he slept in 
 
CAPTAIN WRENCH'S ILLUSION. 115 
 
 a bed he never saw before as comfortably as in his own. 
 He used these chambers once or twice a week for two 
 months, without further thought regarding them. His 
 habit was to dress there after business, and to return, if 
 he stayed in town, long after midnight. So the summer 
 passed, and autumn days shortened. One October even- 
 ing he went home earlier than usual. Not a soul did he 
 meet in those lonely courts. The wet pavement glistened 
 in reflection of the gas, but there was no light in any 
 window. Wrench felt it dull, very, and wondered why 
 on earth he had left the club, where men smoked and 
 chatted in a glow of cheerful firelight. The question 
 recurred with greater strength whilst, after unlocking 
 the heavy door, he searched for a candle in darkness that 
 might be felt. When found, its feeble spark vainly con- 
 tended with the black shadows. Disgusted with himself, 
 Wrench entered the sitting-room, where no fire was 
 laid, chose his book from a dusty pile upon the floor, 
 and sat to read awhile. The Temple clock began to 
 groan its usual lament before striking another hour from 
 eternity. 
 
 Some instants afterwards Wrench looked up, thrilling 
 awfully to a summons unheard. The room-door he had 
 closed stood open ; he saw the faint blue glimmer of the 
 window in the little hall. On either side that pale reflec- 
 tion hung black nothingness. The candle-light fell dead 
 there, swallowed up, though it touched the pictures and 
 
 12 
 
116 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 furniture on each hand lower down. It was not a cloud 
 nor a mist that drooped around the door, but a sable 
 blank. Not for a moment did Wrench think this an 
 illusion of the eye. His forehead wrinkled and wet 
 with fear, his eyebrows raised, he sat in speechless trance, 
 waiting what should emerge from that unearthly void. 
 It did not rest, but closed and gathered in, shutting out 
 the still transparence of the casement, and opened again, 
 like wings. Two sparks, keen and malignant, flashed 
 and vanished above the blank. Then, where the door- 
 way should have been, a child's face shone, pallidly 
 luminous. Though twenty-five years had passed since 
 he had seen those dead features, Wrench could have 
 given them a name. Others followed, friends of youth 
 and later years, all dead. Memory recognised each 
 forgotten ghost. Some were there whose fate he had 
 not learned. These visions did not seek his eye, but 
 burned whitely for one pulse-beat and went out, as a 
 firefly glows and disappears. 
 
 The procession ceased, and all was dark again the 
 wings closed the baleful gleams returned. Then two 
 faces showed, those of an old man and a girl. Wrench 
 uttered an exclamation of dismay, and the black void 
 contracted, took shape, closed swiftly round, crushed 
 down on him. The two sparks intensified, burned into 
 his very soul. And then, all was finished ! Only the 
 aching of the muscles in his face told Wrench what 
 
CAPTAIN WRENCH'S ILLUSION. 117 
 
 agony he had gone through. His mind was clear he 
 rose hastily and went out. The porter stared as he 
 passed by, hatless, in evening dress, without an overcoat. 
 He drove to the club. When the last member had gone, 
 the steward lent him a cap, and he waited sleepless for 
 daylight, sitting in one of the despised hotels. At 
 earliest morning he sent a telegram : " Eugene Wrench 
 to Colonel Innes, Bucharest. Are you both well? I 
 have had a bad dream about you." 
 
 When the light was strong enough to search every 
 corner of the haunted chambers, he entered, and brought 
 away his clothes, dreading to look around the while. 
 At evening arrived the answer : " Hagar Innes to 
 Eugene Wrench. Quite well. Papa says, come here 
 and we will nurse you." It was quite impossible to fol- 
 low this advice and yet and yet the impulse grew 
 stronger, the conviction that in his full senses he had 
 beheld this inexplicable warning became more clamorous 
 as the hours went by. In short, Wrench started by the 
 tidal train next evening. Three days' continuous travel 
 brought him to Bucharest, where Colonel Innes was 
 waiting at the Targoviste Station. 
 
 This old soldier belonged to the very small and 
 secluded class of aristocratic Eurasians. His grandfather 
 had commanded the armies of the Nizam, had professed 
 el Islam, and married an Arab princess. The eldest son 
 of this adventurer was trained in a military school at 
 
118 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 home, where he distinguished himself alike in the study 
 and the playground. He entered the Company's service, 
 and won no inconsiderable honours before his parent 
 recalled him to Hyderabad. At the Nizam's Court also 
 he made his way, though he would never join the ceremo- 
 nies of the creed to which he was born; opposition did 
 not go beyond this, however. He married an Armenian 
 girl, also an heiress. When the father died, Innes Sahib 
 was not nominated to succeed him, but he maintained a 
 position of great influence at Court. Then came the 
 Mutiny, and this old soldier of the Company Bahadur 
 became very active and useful. Besides aiding strenu- 
 ously to keep the Nizam quiet, he raised a superb regi- 
 ment of horse at his own expense, and gave the command 
 to his only son. This youth possessed all the qualities 
 which had made the fortune of the family, saving that 
 easy indifference about religion. Educated in England 
 for a military life, though he had not joined the army, 
 he showed himself a brilliant officer, whilst his know- 
 ledge and skill with the native chiefs did the English 
 generals much service. A young lady whom he rescued 
 from peril fell in love with him, swarthy though he was ; 
 the Government recognised his services by granting him 
 an honorary colonelcy when peace returned, and em- 
 bodied his regiment. With all his longing to pursue a 
 career so well begun, Colonel Innes knew himself un- 
 fitted for regular employment. He married, and with- 
 
CAPTAIN WRENCH'S ILLUSION. 119 
 
 drew to Hyderabad, where his father died within the 
 year. And, before he could arrange the mighty and 
 complicated matters of his heritage, his young wife also 
 died, giving birth to a daughter. The circumstances 
 attending her decease made this calamity yet more 
 dreadful. 
 
 In her last moments, his wife had named the child 
 Hagar, and so she was baptized. Colonel Innes was not 
 a man to sacrifice his rights for the sake of nursing a 
 baby. The widow of a comrade took charge of the 
 infant, and settled with it at Simla on an extravagant 
 allowance. The Colonel ran up to see them constantly. 
 It was during this time, when Hagar was about five 
 years old, that he made the acquaintance of Wrench, 
 then a young subaltern. The liking on both sides grew 
 warm. Five years later, Colonel Innes had settled his 
 intricate affairs, and he withdrew to Europe, taking his 
 child and Mrs Kalph. The friendship of the old soldier 
 and the young did not cool by time or absence. When- 
 ever Wrench got leave he piid the Colonel a long visit, 
 and he watched Hagar's growth in beauty with a feeling 
 which he persistently described to himself as fraternal 
 interest. The little girl's fleshless features, and lean, 
 straight limbs rounded to more graceful symmetry each 
 time he saw them, and Wrench found greater and greater 
 difficulty in supporting his role. 
 
120 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 Colonel Innes meanwhile waited with extreme im- 
 patience the moment when Hagar's completed education 
 should allow him to quit England. He suffered bitterly. 
 The " lick of the tar-brush " had haunted him from 
 school-days. He might have commanded that class of 
 society, larger and more amiable, which, being discon- 
 nected with India, would have seen in his Arab and 
 Armenian blood rather romance than shame. But he 
 never thought of seeking it. He could live neither with 
 his Anglo-Indian colleagues nor without them. At the 
 great military club which had elected him unanimously 
 at a moment of enthusiasm, he suffered tortures, but the 
 idea of joining another did not occur to him. At length 
 came the relief. All the professors declared Miss Innes 
 to be as thoroughly primed with accomplishments as 
 their resources could effect. Without difficulty the 
 Colonel arranged her "presentation" by an exalted 
 personage, and then the two escaped, joying like birds 
 set free. After several wanderings, they came to 
 Bucharest. The mode of life in that odd city com- 
 mended itself to the father saving the eternal bill-and- 
 coo; its ostentatious but not vulgar luxury appealed to 
 the daughter's instincts. They found a chateau to their 
 fancy some miles from the town, and the Colonel leased 
 it for three years. His expenditure, lavish even among 
 that vain and improvident nobility, attracted notice from 
 
CAPTAIN WRENCH'S ILLUSION. 121 
 
 the first, and one glimpse of Hagar brought all society 
 to his feet. Wrench had not visited them since they 
 left England. 
 
 The fierce Roumanian winter had not yet set in, but, 
 when the carriage turned into a bye-road, small sheets of 
 snow lay in the copses and the sheltered slopes, and the 
 wind was already bitter. Wrench had been delighted 
 and surprised by the crowds and general brilliancy of 
 Bucharest, as they drove along the Podoi Mogosoi, but 
 this dull view checked his enthusiasm. They had been 
 talking eagerly of India and old times, for the Colonel 
 laughingly declared that he would leave the dream as a 
 tale for Hagar. Wrench could not forbear remarking 
 on the scene about them. " Yes," replied his host* 
 " you see Roumania at its very worst. In a month we 
 will ask your opinion again. But there is excellent 
 shooting even now, as I will show you. Towards the 
 end of November we will move to a small chalet I have 
 in the Carpathians, where red deer and bears and wolves 
 are abundant. Ab for wolves, if the season be early as 
 they predict, we may have some sport here, for the 
 brutes descend even on the villages. They are really 
 dangerous, and one has to be careful in travelling at 
 night. Two cadets were devoured in the Chaussee itself 
 some years ago, between the barrier and the military 
 school. What do you think of that? My house is just 
 through the copse there. We have a gipsy village at 
 
122 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 our gates, with which I could well dispense, but Hagar 
 cherishes the rascals." 
 
 They traversed the little wood, and suddenly came on 
 a scene of popular rejoicing. Big bonfires blazed and 
 every hut of a small straggling hamlet had half-a-dozen 
 rushlights in its single window. 
 
 " Is there a fete?" 
 
 '* I had not heard of it. Isn't this an extraordinary 
 country, where the gipsy's special handicraft is house- 
 building?" 
 
 *' And where they live in the houses they build ! 
 What picturesque ruffians! They seem to be enthu- 
 siastically fond of you ! " 
 
 " It's Hagar they love ! She remembers Hindustani 
 just well enough to talk to them, with the assistance of 
 broken Roumanian and Italian and Latin, and I don't 
 know what an abominable mixture ! Egad, here comes 
 Si Miliu himself. You'll be able to understand him." 
 Wrench wondered why. 
 
 They had gained the middle of the village, where two 
 roads crossed. Here stood a little throng of men and 
 women, better dressed than the others. They wore 
 sheepskin coats, unfastened, showing the swarthy chests, 
 fringed, not protected by a garment of linen. Bare also 
 were their feet and legs, the wide white trouser falling 
 little below the knee. Long black hair streamed on 
 their shoulders, from a handkerchief, or a rough fur 
 
CAPTAIN WRENCH'S ILLUSION. 123 
 
 cap. Their wild eyes glistened in the torch-light. The 
 women's costume differed, to all seeming, only in the 
 gathering of the shirt at neck and waist, supposed by 
 fiction to preserve decency. Their hair also streamed 
 loose, and in feature, in the bold, laughing stare of the 
 eyes, one could not distinguish one sex from the other 
 at the same age. 
 
 Darker even than the rest was the village chief, who 
 wore a sheepskin with embroidery on the breast and 
 sleeves, which, cut short at the elbow, displayed a loose 
 undergarment ; he Tiad high boots, too, and leather 
 trousers. Saluting after the Hindustani fashion, he 
 delivered an address in the same tongue. The poor 
 gipsy folk rejoiced to see their seigneur's friend. He 
 had come from a distant land that his father might not 
 want a staff to lean on. Therefore the gipsy folk wel- 
 comed him, and would ever keep his name in mind, 
 they and their children. 
 
 Wrench, much surprised, said a few courteous words, 
 and they drove on, the villagers following with torches 
 and tumult. 
 
 " How well that strange old man speaks Hindustani?" 
 
 "I am certain he is a gipsy of Hindustan from 
 Hyderabad I suspect. He scarcely speaks Roumanian 
 to be understood, they tell me, and he has not been 
 here long. In fact, my dear boy, Si Miliu is the most 
 
124 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 mysterious personage I ever met, and that is saying a 
 great deal. Father, tell your young men to sing?" 
 
 At a word from their chief, the tossing, hurrying, 
 noisy crowd fell into a sort of order. Six men in the 
 prime of life, who were carrying violins, pushed to the 
 front, behind them formed a number of youths, and after 
 these the children. A storm of music suddenly burst 
 forth. The air was in parts, distributed among bass, 
 tenor, and alto, rising higher, thrilling more ecstatic, 
 until the chorus struck in and raised it to a very frenzy of 
 audacious inspiration; as suddenly, it paused and dropped 
 and ceased, in a swift, short movement of the children's 
 voices. Again and again the weird melody poured out. 
 " I never heard music like that ! " Wrench exclaimed, 
 thrilling. 
 
 " It's like a composition of harmonious djins, isn't it? 
 That is one of the battle-songs of Michel the Brave, by 
 gipsy tradition. Here we are." 
 
 The chateau was a big, low structure, of no architec- 
 tural pretensions, almost surrounded by substantial barns 
 and outhouses. Two massive wings, protruding boldly 
 from the fa9ade, were evidently designed to protect these, 
 as well as the central building, in case of a sudden foray. 
 A stout iron grille running across from one to the other 
 would delay a barbarous enemy the few moments needful 
 for the inhabitants to take refuge in the wings. Its 
 
CAPTAIN WRENCH'S ILLUSION. 125 
 
 heavy, narrow gate stood open now. All the windows 
 of the fa9ade shone cheerfully, and at the gypsies' shout, 
 before the carriage stopped, Hagar came bounding on 
 the lawn. " Have you brought him, papa ? How good 
 it is of you to come, Captain Wrench ! Go to the back, 
 you gipsy men ! " she continued in broken Hindustani. 
 u Your supper is ready!" With a shrill cry they 
 departed. 
 
 " Then it is to you we owe our grand reception/' said 
 Colonel Innes. 
 
 "What reception? There are only some neighbours 
 and men from the barracks. Now, dear Captain Wrench, 
 
 I must introduce you to some of our Roumanian fr 
 
 acquaintances." A group of men, young and in uniform 
 for the most part, stood about the door, and Wrench 
 bowed like a machine at the recital of a dozen poly- 
 syllabic names. He would have described these youths, 
 in his haste, as athletic barbers masquerading. 
 
 His young hostess was very bright and animated in 
 talking with them when he descended to the drawing- 
 room. In five years since he last saw her, Hagar Innes 
 had reached the perfection of a strange and witching 
 beauty. Hers was not the rounded prettiness which 
 comes to its zenith at eighteen, but an aquiline delicacy 
 of feature much more slow to ripen ; she had nearly 
 reached her twenty-first birthday. What might have 
 been too severe in the moulding of the face was deli- 
 
126 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 ciously broken by the contrast of golden hair, English ; 
 with cream-white skin, Armenian ; and large, eager, 
 black eyes, Arab. Bucharest excels in the beauty of its 
 women, and nowhere is public taste more critical. But 
 the native poets had exhausted earth and heaven, Chris- 
 tian and Moslem, to find objects to compare with Hagar 
 Innes. 
 
 She ran up to Wrench and took his arm. No one 
 else obtained a word willingly, and the Colonel was 
 hard put to it entertaining guests who spoke only French 
 besides their mother tongue. Unlike her father, Hagar 
 subordinated Indian interests to the absorbing question of 
 the dream. " It must have been very awful to make you 
 remember us ! We had not heard for a month ! I have 
 engaged Si Miliu to interpret it. He is the most delight- 
 fully dreadful old man you have ever heard of a real 
 necromancer ! Papa is afraid of him. You know we did 
 awful things at Hyderabad, and Si Miliu can peach 
 upon us ! " 
 
 What has he told you?" 
 
 " Oh, he doesn't tell me scandal. But he has given me 
 lots of information, some of which papa owns to be true. 
 My great-grandmother was an Arab princess, you know, 
 and Si Miliu declares her mother was a gipsy. But tell 
 me your dream ? " 
 
 Wrench protested there was nothing to tell, and on 
 being pressed began some lame story, which Hagar 
 
127 
 
 interrupted. " Keep your secret, if you like," she said, 
 offended. u My necromancer can read thoughts as 
 well as interpret dreams. He will tell me. Don't be 
 frightened, that's all." 
 
 The exclusive attention of the hostess to one guest 
 gave special offence to a gentleman on her left hand, 
 who did not conceal his vexation. A tall fellow he 
 was, profuse of moustache and eyebrow, handsome 
 certainly, but rather sullen of expression. The others 
 called him *' Prince." His anxiety to please had been 
 undisguised until he found that, after each few words 
 which Hagar gave him on polite compulsion, she re- 
 sumed her talk with the stranger. Then he glared and 
 fumed in silence. But when Miss Innes, vexed with her 
 friend, addressed him kindly, he warmed up, and plunged 
 into discreet love-making. Her irritation soon passed, 
 however, and with a smiling apology she turned away 
 again. The white wrath of the Prince at this treatment 
 was homicidal. 
 
 Coffee and cigars were served in the drawing-room, 
 where Si Miliu had already installed himself, cross- 
 legged upon a sofa ; his high boots exchanged for spot- 
 less shoes of felt. He rose and bowed very low, touching 
 eyes and either breast. " It is one of our magician's 
 peculiarities," Hagar whispered, " that he will never 
 come to you you must go to him, even though he be 
 summoned. 5 ' 
 
128 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 Wrench now saw the old man more plainly, and he was 
 not struck. The face was of common Hindoo gipsy- 
 type, but a certain look of intensity dwelt in the large 
 heavy-lidded eyes. The hair and beard were dyed with 
 unbecoming effect. He had doffed his sheepskin, and 
 wore the common peasant dress of summer. 
 
 The Roumanian officers were deeply scandalised to 
 find a gipsy seated in the same room with themselves. 
 The Prince relieved his feelings by exclaiming roughly, 
 " Stand up, slave, when great people are present ! " Si 
 Miliu rose and stood, with hands pressed closely together 
 as in an attitude of prayer. 
 
 " Prince! " exclaimed Hagar, red with passion, u you 
 forget that this old man is the guest of your host." 
 
 He started at the keen reproof, and stood speechless. 
 Hagar put her hand upon the gipsy's arm, and gently 
 forced him -down. " I beg your pardon, Si Miliu. This 
 is an English gentleman's house, where you are always 
 welcome and honoured ! Now here is your coffee, and 
 when you have drunk it I have a great question for your 
 skill. This friend of my father's and of mine when he 
 is not stupid was induced to come here by a bad 
 dream, which he will not tell me. I have promised him 
 you will read the secret. Don't disgrace me, Si Miliu." 
 
 61 1 will do what is possible, missy-baba. Beg him to 
 approach me." 
 
 " Now, Captain Wrench, imagine that the bugle has 
 
CAPTAIN WRENCH'S ILLUSION. 129 
 
 sounded, and you are leading a forlorn hope. Draw 
 near." 
 
 Wrench obeyed, saying, " I shall rather imagine that 
 I am going to be photographed. Will he operate coffee- 
 cup in hand ? " 
 
 " Profane being ! Whatever happens, your fate will 
 be deserved for blaspheming my idol ! " 
 
 With a deprecating gesture of the hand Si Miliu 
 apologised for staring, and whilst he drank his coffee in 
 small sips, like a Turk, he looked Wrench steadily in 
 the face, then bowed, and turned to Hagar with a smile. 
 
 "You know it already?" she eagerly cried. "You 
 have read it." 
 
 " No; but, if the Captain-sahib will allow me, I will 
 discover his secret." 
 
 Hagar swiftly removed the coffee-cup. " Now, Cap- 
 tain Wrench, dear Captain Wrench, show yourself a 
 man. Give this delightful old creature your hand." 
 
 " Must I cross it with silver? " 
 
 " I don't hate you, because I know how ignorant you 
 are, and that your humorous remarks are only intended 
 to hide the faltering of your courage. Now, Si Miliu/' 
 
 The gipsy studied Wrench's hand with intense scru- 
 tiny for a long time. "It is a good man !" he exclaimed 
 at length. " A brave man, Colonel-sahib. Worthy to 
 be heard though he asked for your greatest treasure ! " 
 The gipsy looked meaningly at Hagar, who returned the 
 
 K 
 
130 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 glance with bewilderment; she suddenly blushed, and 
 exclaimed, " But Captain Wrench's character has nothing 
 to do with his dream." 
 
 " The dream? Beg this young man to kneel down." 
 
 He did so. Si Miliu put one hand on his neck, and 
 with the other held his right hand firmly. After a pause 
 he said, " Listen now. I dreamed I saw a man reading 
 in a dark room. It grew darker. He looked up awfully 
 at the door. He remembered many friends who had 
 died, and he feared for the Colonel- sahib and his daugh- 
 ter. His pulse stopped, and for an instant there was 
 peril. But the good powers were watching. They 
 strengthened his failing nerres. He rose and came out." 
 
 " It is not enough ! " Wrench cried. " Tell me more.'' 
 
 '* I can tell only what you know." 
 
 " What does it mean then? " 
 
 " If you do not understand, how should your 
 drogman ? Ask the Colonel-sahib ! " 
 
 4< I see you are convinced now," said Hagar in a 
 frightened voice. 
 
 " May I tell all to the Colonel ? " 
 
 " Why else have you come here ? " 
 
 " Brought by you ? " 
 
 " By a dream, as I understand.*' 
 
 u 0, be frank ! Is the danger imminent? " 
 
 u Danger is always imminent over this house." The 
 old gipsy rose and stretched out his hand, whilst the 
 
CAPTAIN WRENCH'S ILLUSION. 131 
 
 deep eyes looked into vacancy. " This dream of yours, 
 sahib, I knew nothing of it ! I am frank to you and all ! 
 Let those who understand take warning." 
 
 As if in answer to the challenge, a furious blast of wind 
 roared suddenly without. The window-frames shook, 
 the candles blew out, the logs blazing on the hearth 
 sent a fiery tongue that seemed to sweep across the room 
 towards Si Miliu. Hagar, screaming with excitement, 
 threw herself into her father's arms. But in a second 
 the commotion passed. 
 
 It may be imagined that the Roumanian officers were 
 bewildered by what had already passed, incomprehensible 
 to them. But they guessed that the gipsy had been 
 practising some art, and their superstitious natures 
 thrilled. Crowding together, they threatened Si Miliu, 
 who bowed in deprecation. Colonel Innes kept his pre- 
 sence of mind. He said, laughing, " If your dream sig- 
 nified that my house was to be burnt down, it is in a 
 fair way of fulfilment." Lights were brought, liqueurs 
 handed round, and the laotorei made their appearance. 
 Absorbed in listening to the strains which have such an 
 effect on their volcanic nature, the Eoumanian officers 
 forgot the offence of Si Miliu. Tranquillity was restored. 
 Hagar laughed at her panic, and bantered the Prince on 
 his alarm at a gust of wind. 
 
 Si Miliu was first to leave, rising stealthily with a 
 K2 
 
132 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 general salaam. Wrench stopped him, " When shall I 
 ask for more explanations ? " 
 
 " When it is necessary you will be told, I suppose." 
 A little before midnight the Koumanians went off, on 
 horseback, or in well-appointed carriages. Hagar retired, 
 and Colonel Innes led the way to his den. Wrench told 
 all his story at once, the old soldier listening in silence ; 
 every pause was filled by the eldritch screams of the 
 gypsy fiddle in the servants' quarters, and the barbaric 
 chant of their fine voices. Just as Wrench concluded, 
 a soft tap at the door announced Hagar, in dressing- 
 gown and bewitching little cap of lace. Her feet were 
 naked in their little slippers. So, many a time in years 
 gone by, had she slipped down to her father's study 
 when Wrench was there. It gave him a shock to find 
 that she would still take the same innocent liberty. 
 
 " I could not bear the suspense, papa," said Hagar ; 
 " and I knew Captain Wrench would be talking to you. 
 Please tell me what it all means." 
 
 So Wrench went over his story again. 
 " I understand now," murmured Hagar thoughtfully. 
 " You have been summoned here to protect us. But 
 who wishes us ill, papa ? " 
 
 " I will tell you, darling, as it has come to this. My 
 grandfather had other sons and daughters, of whom the 
 Princess was not the mother. He provided for them 
 
CAPTAIN WRENCH'S ILLUSION. 133 
 
 handsomely ; but they were not satisfied. All through 
 my father's life, and until I left India, they intrigued 
 against us. I am afraid there is nothing of which they 
 are not capable indeed, I know it too well ! " he added 
 bitterly. Wrench knew he was thinking of his wife's 
 death, which Indian rumour attributed to poison. 
 
 "But do you believe they could reach us here ? " 
 
 " At every great crisis of our life in the old days we 
 were warned by visions. For many years past nothing 
 of the sort has happened, and I thought my enemies 
 were disheartened after I had driven them from Hydera- 
 bad. But it is not so. I am quite sure this apparition 
 which showed itself to Wrench was sent by the powers 
 which protect us now as they used to do. A moment 
 of peril is at hand." 
 
 " And what has Si Miliu to do with it, for some part 
 he has, I am sure ? " asked Hagar. " Who is he ? " 
 
 " I do not know. That he is acquainted with all our 
 family history has long been evident. Now, child, go 
 to bed. Whatever is coming, we can only wait and 
 trust and pray. Good night, darling ! " Hagar put up 
 her pale face to be kissed, and silently they parted. 
 Going to their rooms, they heard the gipsy chorus 
 ringing as the laotorei sought their village: "Good- 
 night, seigneurs ! Good-night, dames ! Sleep safe ! 
 God is watching! " 
 
 Next morning all the country was white with snow ? 
 
134 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 and a frosty sky above raised their spirits. Hagar was 
 not less beautiful for the dark lines round her eyes which 
 told of a sleepless night so beautiful she was that 
 Wrench felt himself a presumptuous old fool who had 
 even thought, in the watches of the night, that such a 
 creature might be his. This despondency deepened as 
 they rode into Bucharest to ask about the sleigh which 
 the Colonel had ordered from Vienna. Hagar said 
 frankly, "You are not at all like what I remembered, 
 Captain Wrench. You used to make me laugh when I 
 was dull ! " 
 
 The words stung him. " I was not so old then, Miss 
 Innes, and you were younger." 
 
 "Oh!" she answered carelessly, "if that's it, I will 
 be as young as you like, only set an example ! " That 
 was just what Wrench could not do. 
 
 In the afternoon, as he stood with the Colonel at a 
 window, they saw Hagar slip past in her furs. They 
 hurried after. She entered a hut in the gipsy village 
 and remained till dusk ; the Colonel confessed he had 
 been there in the morning, but had learned nothing. 
 After dinner, he asked if Hagar had been more fortunate. 
 
 " No," she answered, colouring. "Si Miliu talked as 
 usual, but he gave me no information." 
 
 Day followed day, and nothing happened. The snow 
 was deep enough for sleighing, and merry parties 
 assembled at the house, or followed from the Chaussee 
 
CAPTAIN WRENCH'S ILLUSION. 135 
 
 for dinner and an unceremonious dance. The Prince 
 was always on hand, and Wrench watched his flirtation 
 with dismay. Though Hagar could not be his, he hated 
 the notion of her marriage with a man like that. The 
 Colonel, so shrewd and so devoted to his daughter, was 
 not unbiassed here. After being lightly esteemed in 
 England, he contemplated a match so illustrious with 
 complacency. To himself the Prince was all that could 
 be wished, respectful, attentive, loftily modest. His 
 family had been distinguished before the fall of Con- 
 stantinople, his wealth was immense, his person hand- 
 some, his intelligence regarded on all hands. Colonel 
 Innes might not be trusted to check his daughter's 
 inclination in such a case. 
 
 Wrench often met Si Miliu, who salaamed with eyes 
 cast down, and went his way, obviously unwilling to 
 talk. One afternoon, as he strolled moodily through 
 the copse, Wrench came across the gipsy face to face. 
 
 " I cannot endure this, Si Miliu. When is the danger 
 coming?" 
 
 "I told the truth, sahib ! Why you have been brought, 
 we do not know. But there is a danger, if you will use 
 your eyes." 
 
 " Here where?" 
 
 " You think yourself too old, and " he paused, 
 
 respectfully contemptuous. 
 
136 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 "You can read my thoughts, Si Miliu! Do I guess 
 right?" 
 
 " You are a good man, and a brave, but too old ! " 
 Si Miliu laughed with quiet sarcasm. " Too old ! 
 Listen, Captain-sahib ! We protect only the son, and 
 the son's son ! The danger of this young lady is no 
 concern of ours ! But I love her, I, the poor gipsy, and 
 I would see her happy ! " 
 
 " What am I to do? Tell me, for Heaven's sake ! " 
 
 " Too old, this Captain -sahib. Too old ! I do not 
 deal in philtres, sir." 
 
 " I implore you ! " But Si Miliu went off 
 
 chuckling. 
 
 From that interview Wrench took hope, and changed 
 his tactics. Since there was a chance, he would not be 
 beaten without trying. A study of Hagar's character 
 satisfied him that it was the respect and masterful dis- 
 position underlying all the Prince's humility which 
 impressed the girl. His Highness took it as a birthright, 
 like his title, that he should excel all other men in what 
 he undertook. His despondency gone, Wrench shook 
 off his laziness, and set himself to overthrow this good- 
 looking idol. He found again the spirits which made 
 Hagar laugh, danced with her, met the Prince on his 
 own field. She did not hide her pleasure, resuming on 
 the instant those easy relations which had been so agree- 
 able in times past. 
 
CAPTAIN WRENCH'S ILLUSION. 137 
 
 Then a brief thaw interrupted the eternal sleighing. 
 A gymkhana which Wrench had been preparing for days 
 past, with the hearty goodwill of a bored noblesse, was 
 held before the chateau gates. A fine show of lovely 
 faces and costly toilettes was there ; the Colonel surpassed 
 his famous hospitality at the lunch ; and there was a ball 
 in the evening. In every trial of skill Wrench was 
 victorious of course. As he expected, the Prince could 
 not endure this superiority, and, in a desperate effort to 
 win the prize for tent-pegging, he twisted himself out of 
 the saddle, sustaining an ignominious fall. When he 
 recovered this shaking, a paper-chase was on, and the 
 gipsy fox, cunningly directed, found a score of ugly 
 places, all close to the road, whence the ladies could see 
 the sport. The Prince rode well; but this sort of thing 
 is not practised at the school, and he had another 
 " cropper," supported with outward pluck and inward 
 fury. Si Miliu was passing the gate as Wrench came 
 by, muddy but heroic, laughing with Hagar in her 
 barouche. His demure smile had a very kindly magic. 
 
 After dinner that night the Colonel fell asleep. He 
 had ridden with such spirit as becomes an old gentleman, 
 shirking no obstacle, but cutting off all ugly corners. 
 Hagar was virtually alone in the drawing-room with 
 Wrench, whilst her father slept. 
 
 " Will you confess, Captain-sahib? All those sports 
 
138 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 and exercises were designed to show off your accomplish- 
 ments ! " 
 
 " I will confess anything you like, and more." 
 
 "I distrust a criminal so glib in admitting his offences. 
 Why couldn't you leave the Prince happy in his con- 
 ceit?" 
 
 " Because I am jealous, Hagar. I have presumed to 
 love you." 
 
 " Well, but that is no reason." 
 
 (i You do not understand me. I ask you to be my 
 wife." 
 
 " Oh ! " 
 
 " I am too old and too worn for your bright youth? 
 Say so at once, and put me out of my misery." 
 
 u Too old ! There ! don't say any more to-night 
 please don't ! Let us laugh." 
 
 4< I cannot laugh till you have spoken. Give me an 
 answer, Hagar." 
 
 " You want to marry me? I understood you came 
 to preserve us from danger ? " 
 
 " The greatest danger for you would be to marry a 
 man who could not love you as you are worthy to be 
 loved." 
 
 " Would that be the very most terrible fate that could 
 befall me? And who is the man?" asked Hagar, 
 colouring. 
 
CAPTAIN WRENCH'S ILLUSION. 139 
 
 " Any man ; for no one could love you as I do, as I 
 have done for years ! " 
 
 She was thoughtful for a time. "Papa, dear, you 
 have been trying to give us a laotorei performance 
 through your nose, and oh ! words could not tell how 
 conspicuously you have failed. Tea is ready ! " 
 
 Next day the Prince arrived for lunch, with several 
 comrades. He laughingly pleaded his bruises as an 
 excuse to stay the afternoon indoors, while Wiench paid 
 an expected visit to the barracks. A wolf-hunt on the 
 grandest scale was projected by the officers, in requital 
 of the Colonel's hospitality. When Wrench got home, 
 after discussing details, Colonel Innes looked grave, his 
 daughter excited. Neither professed any more interest 
 in the wolf-hunt. Hagar withdrew early. As she 
 kissed her father, she whispered, " Kemember your 
 promise ! " 
 
 Wrench heard the words, and put his intepretation on 
 them. The Prince was accepted, and Hagar, of course, 
 wished to spare his feelings as long as possible. A 
 wretched evening. He could not command himself to 
 hide his grief; Hagar looked surprised, then offended. 
 
 That night the frost returned, and preparations began 
 for the great event. From noon to midnight the house 
 resounded with clank of sword and jingling of spurs. 
 The Prince did not appear, and Wrench learned that he 
 had taken leave of absence on urgent private affairs ; to 
 
140 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 arrange for the marriage, doubtless. Si Miliu also was 
 away. Wrench did his best to resume his frank inter- 
 course with Hagar ; but she remained cool, sarcastic 
 sometimes, quite pitiless. 
 
 It had been her intention to assist at the battue, 
 though every one dissuaded her; but as the day drew 
 near her wilfulness grew fainter, and at length she 
 announced, with unnecessary vehemence, the resolve 
 to stay at home. Upon the fatal morning, a great 
 breakfast assembled all the hunters, and the hostess 
 played her part with charming grace to all but Wrench. 
 He, poor fellow, received the coolest good wishes, whilst 
 for all others she had smiles and pretty jests. 
 
 For twenty-four hours the beaters had been out, 
 searching the woods, and converging towards a valley, 
 some ten miles from the chateau, where the sportsmen 
 would be ambushed. None but women, children, and 
 invalids were left in the gipsy village. The beaters 
 could not yet be heard when the Colonel and his party 
 had taken their positions. An hour passed, and a second. 
 The Roumanian officer who kept watch with Wrench 
 swore strange oaths unceasingly, as he clapped his fur- 
 gloved hands. Towards three o'clock, faint and distant 
 halloing told that the beaters were astir. 
 
 At this moment a gipsy boy came stealing across the 
 snow, from one black trunk to another. He called 
 Wrench, and speaking with difficulty, as one who has 
 
CAPTAIN WRENCH'S ILLUSION. 141 
 
 learned a lesson, he said in Hindustani, u You are 
 wanted ! " And ran off. 
 
 The horses were stationed a mile behind. Again and 
 again Wrench tripped in the snow, running at full speed 
 through the woods, but he held to his rifle. Mounting, 
 he galloped along the beaten track, till a heavy fall 
 made him cautious. It was dusk when he passed 
 through the empty village. All was still at the chateau, 
 where no groom remained to take his horse. He ran 
 upstairs, and in the drawing-room found Hagar. 
 
 " Has there been an accident?" she cried, starting up. 
 
 " No ! I was summoned, by whom I do not know, if 
 it was not Si Miliu. A boy said you wanted me." 
 
 " It was good of you to obey, but indeed I see no 
 danger, except that gun you have brought into the 
 drawing-room." 
 
 " Pardon me ! It may be wanted." 
 
 "Why, what danger can there be?" said Hagar, rather 
 frightened. " Look ! All is quiet ! Ha ! what is that? " 
 
 Wrench sprang to the window where she stood, which 
 looked on the back courtyard. In the half-light he 
 saw dusky figures creeping and vanishing in the shadow 
 of the outhouses. Their movements were stealthy and 
 sinister; all friendly neighbours far away ! Hagar clung 
 to him, panting with fright. " Oh, they are brigands ! 
 Save me ! " she cried. 
 
142 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 u I will save you or die ! Nerve yourself, darling ! " 
 But she was wild with fear. 
 
 Wrench took her in his arms and carried her to the 
 small inner room. Whilst hindered by her panic cling- 
 ing, he dragged furniture before the door and blocked 
 it. Hagar became almost senseless with excitement and 
 fear. He laid her down, looked to his arms, and took 
 station by the window, which gave on the front expanse, 
 where the snow, still untrodden, made a glimmering 
 twilight. Dim and confused movements on the lawn 
 were visible rather to his consciousness than to his eyes. 
 Suddenly a voice was raised, speaking angrily ; a gunshot 
 answered it from the house! That flash lit the scene. 
 A score of armed men surged round the hall-door, all 
 clad in sheepskin, with tangled hair upon the shoulders. 
 Raising a yell they bounded forward, and the tumult 
 of a fight burst suddenly upon the stillness. By the 
 glare of random shots, Wrench saw an indistinguish- 
 able medley. At the same instant a fray began upon 
 the other side, crash of firearms, cries and shouts, and 
 the breathless din of hand-to-hand encounters. The 
 instinct of battle thrilled Wrench's soul. He dragged 
 away the barrier he had raised, but soft arms caught 
 him in a frenzied clutch. 
 
 "Do not leave me, do not leave me ! I shall die ! 
 Oh, what is it?" 
 
CAPTAIN WRENCH'S ILLUSION. 143 
 
 44 Our defenders are fighting down below, and honour 
 calls me ! Not while I live shall any one reach you ! " 
 
 " No, no, no ! Stay with me, or let me go with you ! 
 We will die together!" She put up her lips to his; 
 he gathered her triumphantly in his arms. " My dar- 
 ling, we will not die but live together !" 
 
 Wrench led her to a couch, and she sat trembling, her 
 head upon his chest, her arms about his neck. The noise 
 outside diminished, passed into the distance, but no one 
 disturbed them for an hour. Hagar sat paralysed with 
 fear, convulsively shivering, heedless of her lover's con- 
 solation. At length the hall below resounded with hasty 
 steps, and the Colonel's voice was heard shouting for his 
 daughter's name. 
 
 "Here, sir, here!" Wrench answered; and the old 
 soldier burst in. 
 
 When Hagar had been put to bed, and the doctor had 
 reassured them, some explanation of these events was 
 forthcoming. Two prisoners confessed themselves to 
 belong to a brigand troop which had descended from the 
 Carpathians, hearing of the Englishman's wealth. They 
 said, however, that a half-dozen strangers had joined in 
 the attack, with the approval of their chief, who was 
 dead. They expected to find the chateau empty, but 
 the gipsies, secretly recalled, held it in superior force. 
 Not one of the strangers was identified, either amongst 
 the slain or the captured. 
 
144 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 The Colonel also had his story. As the beaters ap- 
 proached, a gipsy boy crept up to him and muttered in 
 Hindustani, " Si Miliu says this place is dangerous. Go 
 home!" The first wolf came prowling by at this 
 moment, and the Colonel rolled it over. The boy, 
 excited, took him by the arm, repeating his words, but 
 shot after shot told that the fun was quickening, and 
 the excited sportsman would not heed. At length the 
 messenger shook him hard, volubly directing his atten- 
 tion to the rear. In the gathering dusk the Colonel saw 
 a number of ruffians approaching, with treachery in their 
 movements. He turned and ran. Several bullets whizzed 
 about his ears, unnoticed in the fusillade. 
 
 Not till next evening did Hagar appear, pale and 
 weak, but divinely beautiful in Wrench's eyes. She 
 avoided his glance even whilst speaking to him, but the 
 time of self-distrust had passed by, and he knew that 
 this pretty confusion boded no ill. After her retirement, 
 Si Miliu was announced; he had not shown since the 
 fight. They found him in his usual chair, cross-legged, 
 and gravely courteous ; their thanks and questions scarcely 
 got reply ; the gipsy breathed short and deep in excite- 
 ment. After half-an-hour's broken talk, he started 
 with a thrill, Wrench saw again that shapeless blackness, 
 and the malignant sparks above. It divided. Through 
 the gap, in faint and tremulous outline, he beheld the 
 glimmering of marble columns, with rich stuffs between, 
 
CAPTAIN WRENCH'S ILLUSION. 145 
 
 a ceiling fretted in gorgeous hues, and sparkling with 
 bits of mirror set therein. Although the candles on the 
 table seemed to burn undimmed, all the light of the 
 apartment came from that opening. The scene fixed 
 and moulded as they watched; figures appeared. On a 
 marble seat, inlaid with many colours, sat, cross-legged, 
 a swarthy chief, bearded, clothed in gems from neck to 
 waist. His turban flamed with diamonds, and the shawls 
 on which he sat hung in splendid folds about the throne. 
 
 A little crowd of dignitaries, superbly robed, stood or 
 sat with eyes downcast around him; prostrate on the 
 ground in front lay three old men. Their raised hands 
 moved tremulously, as in supplication; they beat their 
 heads upon the floor. The chief waved his hand. A 
 dozen armed men advanced, lifted them roughly to their 
 feet, and dragged them out. Glimmering palace and 
 sable curtain vanished. ** It is over ! " said Si Miliu. 
 < The true God bless them all ! " 
 
 He went out while they sat entranced. Hagar rose, 
 sobbing hysterically, and threw herself in the Colonel's 
 arms. 
 
 " You saw that?" Wrench began. 
 
 *' Hush ! Never speak of it again ! " And they busied 
 themselves restoring the girl to composure. 
 
 The next morning Si Miliu was gone from the village, 
 and they heard of him no more. After rewarding his 
 gipsy-defenders beyond their dreams of peasant wealth, 
 
 L 
 
146 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 the Colonel hastened to leave Roumania. He returned 
 to India with Wrench and his wife, and there died. 
 
 Of the Prince's fate all is a mystery. After his refusal 
 by Hagar, he had remained solitary at his house, brood- 
 ing revenge. On the morning of the wolf-hunt he left 
 home with two servants, taking, as there was reason 
 to believe, a large sum in gold. This fact is adduced 
 by some as evidence that he may still be living; but 
 others draw just the opposite conclusion. The bones of 
 a man and horse were found in the track of the escaping 
 wolves. The doctors pronounced an opinion that both 
 had been killed by sabre-cuts before the animals found 
 them. Some suspect that this unfortunate man was the 
 Prince. 
 
 Long years have passed in quiet happiness for Wrench 
 and his wife. They talk now of those events, and they 
 have convinced their brains, if not their superstitious 
 instincts, that they were all an illusion. 
 
147 
 
 COURAGE : A CHAPTER OF EXPE- 
 RIENCE. 
 
 THIS is no essay. At Alexandria the other day I 
 heard of a seaman who cut off two wounded fingers 
 his own with a jack-knife, and turned up for duty as 
 usual. The jack-knife had been lately used for shredding 
 tobacco; and, when the mutilation was discovered, this 
 poor fellow's arm had fallen into such a state that the 
 doctors feared they must cut it off. 
 
 The story reminded me of an incident which occurred 
 within my knowledge more than twenty years ago, and 
 that suggested others. I am not going to argue or theo- 
 rise, but simply to hold the pen whilst memory drives. 
 
 A match to the sailor's plucky deed was that of Grim- 
 bold, a sergeant of Rajah Brooke's police. When the 
 Chinese attacked his post, after a gallant resistance, he 
 jumped from an embrasure, and cut his way through the 
 crowd. A bullet shattered his forearm. Grimbold bor- 
 rowed a native sword, with which and a small pen-knife 
 he amputated his limb at the elbow, tied it up, and 
 marched nearly two miles in an effort to join the Rajah. 
 Under custody at the fort when the Chinese appeared was 
 
 L2 
 
148 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 a madman. Him Grimbold armed and posted; but the 
 maniac refused to crouch under shelter. He swore that 
 to hide was unworthy a brave man, and planted himself 
 in the verandah, alone against a thousand. There he 
 blazed away like the sanest of invulnerable epic heroes. 
 When Grimbold decided to evacuate the place, the 
 madman, unhurt, obeyed his call. But he refused to 
 jump from a window, and the others left him eagerly 
 unbarring a door that he might sally forth like a gentle- 
 man. 
 
 This man evidently understood the danger, but did 
 not feel it. Some infirmities are great aids to nerve. I 
 remember a war correspondent, stone-deaf, whose reck- 
 lessness in pushing under fire and coolness when the 
 bullets flew thick impressed the Turks, who watched 
 him with a superstitious feeling. Wholly bereft of 
 hearing, he could not recognise one quarter of the peril, 
 and the awful din of battle affected him not at all. This 
 gentleman made several campaigns, and was killed in 
 Armenia, I believe. 
 
 The tricks imagination plays on courage are endless, 
 sometimes kindly, more often cruel. Once on a time 
 the date is recent a small English force lay for some 
 days in a terribly exposed position. Experienced officers 
 did not talk publicly of the ugly chances round. Two 
 young fellows shared a tent; the one had seen much ser- 
 vice in little time, the other was quite fresh, full of con- 
 
COURAGE : A CHAPTER OF EXPERIENCE. 149 
 
 fidence, only longing that the enemy would show. He 
 chaffed his comrade on his nervousness, until the latter, 
 being also young, was tempted to open the eyes of inex- 
 perience, and show how desperate would be their case 
 under certain most probable conditions. After that 
 explanation he went to sleep ; his fire-eating chum 
 declares that he slept no more until circumstances 
 changed. Of these young men who behaved so diffe- 
 rently one has now the Victoria Cross; the second dis- 
 plays a medal with two clasps, and he won his company 
 before his beard was fairly grown. 
 
 There are those incapable of fear, be the peril of what 
 sort it may, savage man, disease, accident, death itself 
 the assured cessation of living. But they are very, very 
 few; personally I have recognised but one. Many men 
 and some women are proof against most dangers, but 
 they dread one form, or perhaps several. In thinking of 
 such persons, Scobeleff naturally recurs to one's mind. 
 He once declared to me that he was terribly afraid of 
 mere death. He said also that his fearlessness was a 
 habit, which, if poverty and a sense of ill-usage had not 
 made him desperate, he would never have found courage 
 to acquire. But Scobeleff loved a paradox; a reckless 
 talker upon every subject, he was specially untrust- 
 worthy about himself. 
 
 I should rather incline to think that mere courage is 
 more general amongst Russians than amongst any other 
 
150 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 people nowadays. I mean the unreasoning, irresponsible 
 readiness of a dog to risk life and liberty upon provoca- 
 tion. Not more volunteers rush out, when a desperate 
 enterprise is mooted, than from our own ranks; more 
 than all is a mathematical absurdity. But the English- 
 man stakes his life in another, a grander spirit. He feels 
 and reckons with the peril. Before meeting it, so far as 
 1 have seen examples, he is quiet, thoughtful, contem- 
 plating the worst, and making his arrangements. A 
 Kussian scorns all that, does not even think of it. After 
 assuring himself, rather roughly, that the needful dispo- 
 sitions have been made, he becomes the lightest-hearted 
 of the company to which he hastens. I do not say, 
 affects to become, for it may well be that deadly danger 
 stirs him to mirth, as it stirs another man, equally brave, 
 to self-commune. I cannot forget an instance on Radi- 
 sovo Hill, the morning of the great attack. An infantry 
 regiment stood at ease in the rain, waiting the order to 
 descend into that valley blind with smoke, echoing with 
 thud of guns and angry crackle of musketry. The 
 colonel and a staff captain approached and asked us to 
 accept charge of letters for their wives, to be forwarded 
 in case of accident. Then they stood chatting of London 
 and Paris with the warmth of men whose hearts were 
 there, though the battle raged closer, and a ball now 
 and then musically spun above our heads. They asked 
 the precise story of a scandal half-forgotten now, and 
 
COURAGE : A CHAPTER OF EXPERIENCE. 151 
 
 their shrewd comments told they were attending closely, 
 when an aide came galloping through the mist. Three 
 minutes afterwards the doomed regiment filed away 
 down towards the valley of death. 
 
 Baker Pasha loves to recount an instance of the 
 courage we are used to think truly British. During his 
 grand retreat, which the greatest of living soldiers 
 declared " a master-work," it became necessary to fire a 
 large Bulgar village. Baker sent a company to do the 
 work. Time passed, but no smoke arose. One after 
 another he dispatched four orderlies to ask the cause of 
 the delay; none returned. Then the general turned to 
 his aide-de-camp: " Go, Alix," he said, " and see what 
 those fools are doing ! " Alix went full gallop, a Cir- 
 cassian behind. He did not come back, but the smoke 
 appeared in thin wreaths. Every moment pressed. Baker 
 sent another company with another English officer. At 
 the entrance of the village they found two orderlies dead, 
 and no sign of troops; but the village, full of lusty 
 Bulgars, was buzzing like a hive. They pushed on. In 
 the middle space the Chirkess stood, holding two horses; 
 Colonel Alix, alone in a maddened throng, was moving 
 from hut to hut, setting the thatch alight with matches. 
 So the village was burnt, and the retreating Turks gained 
 that delay which saved them saved perhaps Stamboul, 
 and so saved England from a desperate war. 
 
 I do not know that this story has been printed, though 
 
152 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 many have heard it. No one is more disinclined than I 
 to single out persons for adorning my tale, when the 
 name has not been officially announced ; but the valiant 
 deeds of a soldier in performance of his duty are ex- 
 cepted from the rule. 
 
 Of a class quite different was the fine devotion of Lord 
 Gifford during the Ashanti war. He undertook the 
 scouting for our advance, under conditions as unlike as 
 could possibly be to those which usually attend such 
 duties. We scarcely saw him after he had entered the 
 woods. At the passage of the Adansi Hills, Lord 
 Gifford paid us a visit, and he turned up, of course, at 
 the battle of Amoaful, gaming his V.C., nominally, for 
 valour displayed in the assault of Bequoi next day. But 
 the reward was won before that, when he led his gallant 
 little company miles in front of our outposts and advance- 
 guards, creeping round the savage foe, cutting off 
 stragglers to get information, watching from the bush at 
 midnight such awful scenes as the bloody burial of 
 Amanquattiah. Lord Gifford had with him, if I remem- 
 ber rightly, two West Indian soldiers, two Kossus, two 
 Houssas, and a miscellaneous collection of barbarians, 
 the wildest and most ferocious to be obtained on the 
 recommendation of woodcraft and devilry. As we 
 passed upon the march his lonely camps deserted, the 
 fires long extinct in the circlet of piled boughs and 
 entanglements of vines, the least imaginative felt a 
 
COURAGE : A CHAPTER OF EXPERIENCE. 153 
 
 shock so lonely and lost they seemed in the shadow of 
 the forest, between the savage enemy and ourselves. 
 
 Of all classes, the bravest certainly is the sailor. His 
 way of life from childhood trains him to be fearless, to 
 be very shrewd within a certain limited purview, to be 
 open-handed of superfluities, to be instinctively conscious 
 of his own interests and resolute in securing them. But 
 all who have served with him ashore remark a character- 
 istic of sailors, which, undiscussed and unanalysed, causes 
 that want of confidence which nearly all soldiers feel in 
 a naval brigade. English officers entertain it more than 
 do others ; as for Jack, his careless pride of self has not 
 admitted it possible that a soldier could look down on 
 him. But in foreign armies and navies the same idea 
 prevails, to a less extent only because fewer instances of 
 common service have suggested it. I am sure I know 
 the reason, and it is as simple as can be. The better the 
 sailor, the more has he studied, and the more is he 
 acquainted with the dangers that threaten him at sea. 
 A storm sweeps down with insufficient warning or no 
 warning at all; an enemy may appear on the horizon, 
 coming out of space as it were, and in an hour he may 
 be fighting for life. The safety of all in a troublous 
 time may depend on the wakefulness, the judgment of 
 one man; and, if there be a flaw in arrangements over 
 which few or none on board have control, all is lost. 
 
154 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 Trained in such ideas until they become an instinct, the 
 sailor goes ashore to take part in military operations. 
 He sees, as one may say, no man at the mast-head to 
 give alarm. The position he is set to hold is isolated, or 
 at least open on one side. The enemy is known to lie in 
 overwhelming numbers somewhere about. Why should 
 he not come down and overwhelm the post ? With the 
 preconceived idea that soldiers are all more or less 
 incapable, the officers of a naval brigade in such case are 
 doubly convinced that the ship must depend upon itself. 
 They raise redoubts and works; they dig like gnomes; 
 cheerfully, yet with an injured sense, they keep sentry 
 and picket-guard in such extravagant fashion as only 
 sailors could endure. The military officer observes them 
 with polite derision. He knows, for instance, having 
 studied the ground and the circumstances, that, to 
 advance from the direction which those good fellows 
 are watching so zealously, an enemy must march three 
 days without water. He has confidence that, although 
 no look-out be visible, shrewd heads are employing 
 active means, not less efficient, to insure the general 
 safety. He has no experience which teaches him to 
 expect danger continually from powers and accidents 
 unseen, unsuspected. In short, he is not used to storms, 
 nor to the sudden appearance of hostile forces out of space, 
 nor to a foe who carries with him wherever he goes all 
 
COURAGE: A CHAPTER OP EXPERIENCE. Io5 
 
 things needful for combat and subsistence; and he 
 seldom reflects upon the difference of his education and 
 the sailor's. 
 
 No one has ever questioned the supreme fighting zeal 
 of a naval brigade, which in all countries, I think, is 
 superior to that of soldiers. But again, if the rout come, 
 after the seamen have done their best, their instinct 
 betrays itself. I have never personally seen a sauve qui 
 pent of sailors, but I am told that it is much more hope- 
 less than that of an army, and I should be inclined to 
 believe so; for, when the ship is obviously lost, men 
 take to the boats, and that familiar discipline which 
 keeps order in emergency at sea is absent under the con- 
 ditions of land service. The individuality which a 
 sailor's life tends to encourage, and to suppress which is 
 the tendency of the soldier's training, obtains free control, 
 and every man looks to his own safety. 
 
 The bravest race of savages, I think, amongst the many 
 I have known, is the Montenegrin ; but, whilst I write, 
 competitors recur to mind. Every square foot of the 
 Black Mountain has its legend of desperate fight, often 
 disastrous, but always honourable. A little instance of 
 Montenegrin courage, which came under my own eyes, 
 is as pretty as any of the stories recounted by the 
 wandering bard. Whilst Dulcigno was threatened by 
 European fleets and Montenegrin armies, the Albanians 
 holding it, a dense smoke arose one day in that quarter. 
 
156 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 The news of this phenomenon spread widely, and caused 
 a positive statement in all the morning papers of the 
 civilised world that the Albanians had fired their town. 
 At sunset, unable to get news, and the people being 
 much excited, I hired a boat at Pristan Antivari for the 
 purpose of reconnoitring. A young officer had come 
 down on business from the camp at Sutormans. He said 
 tome: " What is the use of your going to Dulcigno, 
 when you are not acquainted with the language of your 
 boatmen, and you don't know the country? Send a 
 message to Buko Petrovitch, the general, telling him I 
 have gone in your boat to inquire. I will bring you 
 news." 
 
 So I sent a note to the general, and forthwith this 
 young officer started. At morning the boat returned, 
 without him, but the men were charged to tell me that 
 Dulcigno stood just as usual. Presently the commandant 
 came, laughing. He said : " Effendi, that youth ha s 
 made fools of us. He wanted to see his sweetheart in 
 Dulcigno, and when the boat drew near he swam to 
 land. If the Ghegghes catch him, they'll flay him alive." 
 I don't know whether they caught him, but he did not 
 return whilst I stayed, nor did he rejoin the army, for 
 Buko Petrovitch sent to ask about him, ten days after- 
 wards. 
 
 Afghan courage is undeniable; but it belongs to the 
 fervid class. In a headlong charge for resistance to the 
 
COURAGE : A CHAPTER OF EXPERIENCE. 157 
 
 death when that issue has been resolved beforehand no 
 people on earth excel the Pathans. But an accident 
 will strangely disconcert their minds; they seldom fight 
 a lost battle. The history of their wars is as full of panic 
 defeats as of heroic victories. The Piper of Jellalabad 
 represents a type among them. At a certain hour every 
 evening he used to climb a hill at the very limit of 
 musket-range, blow his pibroch, dance his jig of defiance, 
 and then withdraw. An admiring retinue attended him, 
 heedless of the shots which occasionally told. At length 
 an English marksman killed the piper, whose renown will 
 be preserved for generations in the name he gave that 
 hill. After his death, not one of the hundreds who had 
 seemed indifferent to peril challenged our fire. Cases of 
 the same sort frequently occurred in the last war. At 
 Jamrud fort the sentries were potted at every night by 
 the same man, or at least by the same weapon, for its 
 peculiar report was recognised. One night, as we sat 
 in the mess-room, a detonation louder than usual drew 
 our notice. In the morning we found a burst pistol, 
 rifled, and from that time our sentries were no longer 
 molested. Natives presently reported that the man was 
 unhurt, but neither he nor his fellows resumed their 
 firing practice. 
 
 In that reckless bloodthirstiness which contains, of 
 course, a proportion of courage, but which is more pro- 
 
158 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 perly described as devilry, the Pathan will not be out- 
 Heroded. I do not speak of Ghazis, or " martyrs for 
 the faith," who murder to win heaven, and accept death 
 as essential to the merit of the deed. The Afghan who, 
 without vows or illusions, sees an opportunity to perform, 
 a desperate act which will bring him pleasure or profit, 
 is not easily deterred by the danger of retribution. And 
 he displays great presence of mind. Some English 
 officers riding through the Khurd Khyber heard shots. 
 They quickened their pace, and at a turn of the defile 
 ran into a brisk skirmish. Three men were defending 
 some loaded donkeys against an equal number who fired 
 at them from behind the rocks. The former pushed on 
 and claimed protection, declaring themselves peaceful 
 traders attacked by banditti. The latter left hiding and 
 hurried up to tell their story; whereupon the three first 
 rushed at them and cut them down, killing all before 
 they could speak. 
 
 It came out afterwards that these unfortunates were 
 the owners of the goods and cattle, looted first, and then 
 murdered. This ugly tale reminds me of the death of 
 General Maude's bheestie, who was filling his masak at 
 the well, not two hundred yards from Lundi Kotal camp, 
 when the general passed with his escort. The well was 
 much frequented, and some Pathans were seated there. 
 Before General Maude reached the tents his bheestie 
 
COURAGE : A CHAPTER OF EXPERIENCE. 159 
 
 overtook him, and fell headlong in the road, cut literally 
 into bits. An impulse of homicide had seized the Pathans, 
 and they had allowed it play. 
 
 I do not believe in the courage of Bedouins, still less 
 of Egyptians. But, though we admit all the confidence 
 which skill and tried success will bestow, it was a plucky 
 feat to drive forty oxen from the lines at Kassassin and 
 bring them into Tel-el- Kebir. That the Bedouin scouts 
 performed this feat, as they boasted, has been vehemently 
 denied, of course, but I am afraid the story is true. All 
 the prisoners taken on the 28th of September declared 
 it; some had seen the oxen, and they described them as 
 foreign certainly not Egyptian. They agreed, also, 
 that the Bedouins' report was the cause of the attack 
 which was made two days later for it represented that 
 the English camp was unguarded, that the troops were 
 scattered, and so worn out by sickness that they could 
 not stand a serious onslaught. 
 
 For courage and skill in . looting cattle, no race of 
 scoundrels can make a show with the Harris and other 
 dwellers on the frontier of Sindh. The ingenuity of 
 these people is almost uncanny. They have a knowledge 
 of the bovine character well worth scientific attention, 
 and they use it in conjunction with a study of human 
 frailties which is equally minute. The simplest of their 
 processes is to cut through the stable wall cattle are 
 always stabled in a country so perilous for them and 
 
160 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 lead out the animals. Two or three boys are entrusted 
 with a business of this kind, and they are expected to 
 succeed, though it be needful to make the oxen step 
 over a watcher's body. At one of our posts the com- 
 missariat cattle were lodged in a walled inclosure, which 
 contained several masses of ruin. Every morning the 
 tale of beasts was short. In vain the distracted go- 
 master applied for more sentries and more frequent 
 rounds. At length, by mere accident, the secret of the 
 nightly disappearances came out. Thieves had tunnelled 
 under the wall, shielding either exit behind ruins. Such 
 engineering work is familiar to people who conduct 
 water underground from the spring to the place where 
 it is wanted. But to induce half-wild cattle to descend 
 a steep incline, pitch dark, hot as a furnace nearly, and 
 that without making a suspicious sound, requires either 
 arts unholy or such influence as one would like to 
 observe in action. 
 
 The Arab proper, neither Egyptian nor Bedouin, is 
 very distinctly a brave man in the European sense. I 
 do not believe that his part in history is played out. In 
 a very few years he will be free of his incubus, the 
 Turk, the field of emigration open to his most active 
 and enterprising sons will be terribly narrowed, and an 
 Arab civilisation may again appear. All the soldierly 
 feelings are strong in them now. 
 
 During the Russian war a young Arab officer was 
 
COURAGE: A CHAPTER OP EXPERIENCE. 161 
 
 taken on the Lorn. His gallantry in tlie action had been 
 observed by admiring enemies, and one high in authority 
 tried to get him freed or exchanged. He asked the 
 prisoner's word of honour that he would not fight again 
 if liberated, and it was given. Shortly afterwards a 
 desperate opportunity of escape presented itself. The 
 Arab seized it, and got away. In the Turkish lines he 
 was received with joy. and promoted then and there,; 
 but he refused to serve, recounting his promise. The 
 general would not admit it binding, and threatened to 
 shoot him, as a coward, in the back; and shot he was. 
 A relation of the youth told me this story at Constan- 
 tinople. I believe one might find many Arab soldiers 
 (not Egyptians) who would die rather than break their 
 plighted word. 
 
 In the sum of military honour no army is so punc- 
 tilious as the German. That superb machine is braced 
 and upheld by a code of such minuteness and severity as 
 no other people would carry out. Crack regiments in 
 the Kussian service hold themselves together, and pre- 
 serve the honour of the corps with strict vigilance, but 
 their rules are fantastic, and still more so the execution 
 of them. The doom of suicide has been passed upon a 
 German officer, if stories are true, but in Russia it has 
 been pronounced not once, nor a hundred times. For 
 some terrible scandal, a cavalry regiment was exiled to 
 Central Asia. It held an inquiry upon the officers 
 
 M 
 
162 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 implicated, and the one found guiltiest was significantly 
 told that a man of honour would not survive the shame 
 of bringing disgrace upon his uniform. In such a case 
 a German would, perhaps, have taken his own life 
 quietly, but the Russian did nothing of the sort. On 
 parade next day he charged the colonel with drawn 
 sword, and was promptly shot. I have been told that 
 the proportion of officers who die a violent death in time 
 of peace, in Central Asian stations, is enormous. 
 
 It is common clap-trap of the cosmopolitan philosophy, 
 that every man is brave. The soldier and the traveller 
 know better. Nearly every man can be trained to hold 
 his place in the ranks, and most men will rush forward 
 with their fellows, if there be enough of them, and they 
 shout. But this is not individual courage. I am not 
 sure we are as brave as were our forefathers, but, if so, 
 other nations have deteriorated in the same measure, for 
 we keep the relative position they held. Unfortunately, 
 courage will not save a state, nor win battles nowadays, 
 unless it be backed by force, and I am acquainted with 
 no authority who does not admit in private that he 
 regards the chance of a serious struggle with panic. If 
 England maintained at home but a hundred thousand 
 men ready for service abroad, what a blessed revolution 
 that force would bring about ! Free to ally herself on 
 the side of right, whichever it were, she would be mis- 
 tress and arbiter of Europe, which would needs disarm 
 before this new power. 
 
163 
 
 A KAFFIR TOAD. 
 
 THE name of Wisden is grateful to very many of those 
 who dwelt on the diamond-fields in my time. For years 
 before " the rush," a family so-called had been settled at 
 Yarrodale, half-way betwixt Hopetown and Dutoitspan. 
 When twenty thousand diggers on one side clamorously 
 bid for fruit and vegetables, whilst a brisk young town- 
 ship on the other demanded a greater allowance week by 
 week, the farmer, a thoughtful man, divided his cares and 
 responsibilities. He took his daughters into partnership, 
 assigning them the dairy, poultry-yard, and garden, and, 
 as the elders married, he brought from home new scions 
 of his pleasant stock girls every one. Happier maidens 
 do not dwell on earth, nor busier, for they constantly 
 struck new ideas, which always succeeded. " Wisden 
 produce " was announced with an air when the market- 
 master took his stand upon the table at Kimberley or 
 Dutoitspan. How many young ladies dwelt at Yarro- 
 dale about the time of my story I do not recollect, if I 
 ever knew. Not less than half-a-dozen certainly all 
 fair, young, quick of speech and smile, more or less 
 pretty. Until supper- time, at five o'clock, they were 
 
 M2 
 
164 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 supposed to be invisible to guests. One fitfully caught 
 a glimpse of clean cotton skirts pinned back, slender 
 white arms bare; one heard musical cries and girlish 
 bursts of laughter, and snatches of song. One time I met 
 the eldest, Grace, carrying a milk-pail and a scrubbing- 
 brush. She was not at all embarrassed, but much too 
 busy for chat. 
 
 The house stood behind and between two large dams, 
 or pools, formed, not by digging, but by stopping an 
 outflow of the natural drainage. Their banks stood 
 fifteen feet high over against the front door, sadly 
 blocking the outlook. In a country less wholesome, 
 fever and ague would have made their home in Yarro- 
 dale. The approach led straight between these darns to 
 a stoop mantled with creepers that ran along the house- 
 front. Here, at morn and dewy eve, sat Grandfather 
 Wisden, armed with a catapult. For shepherds and 
 grooms, Totty servant-girls, drovers, diggers on the 
 tramp, made rendezvous for gossip at the shallow end 
 of the pools, where the patriarch bombarded them. To 
 right of the building lay a garden, hedged with pome- 
 granates, always in flower, as it seemed to us. Its 
 walks were shaded with peach-trees; vines grew every- 
 where, and bucketsful of grapes might be commandeered 
 without the formality of asking. There was always 
 sunshine and always shade, cool drinks, and glowing 
 faces at Yarrodale. 
 
A KAFFIR TOAD. 165 
 
 Appreciative visitors were never lacking at such short 
 distance from the fields. All the hospitable Wisden 
 asked was a note of introduction from some person of 
 responsibility, which successful diggers obtained with 
 ease. Never did we hear of a guest misbehaving, 
 drunken or quarrelsome as he might be in camp. 
 Nearly all agreed in respectful adoration for one or other 
 of the young ladies. 
 
 Grace was reckoned prettiest and admitted cleverest 
 of the bevy. Among her worshippers I must name 
 Skinner, of the Colesberg Kopje " Bang Skinner," we 
 called him and Hutchinson. The former was a loud- 
 laughing, fresh- coloured, happy sort of fellow, generally 
 liked of men, and a favourite declared of the gods. 
 He knew nothing of diamonds when he came among 
 us, and he never learned a morsel. It was not necessary. 
 Two men worked a hole, nine feet by four, adjoining my 
 claim. The day after Bang's arrival at the Colesberg 
 Kopje he fell in with them, and straightway bought 
 their patch for nine hundred pounds, the sum remaining 
 out of a thousand which his kinsfolk had raised per- 
 haps to get rid of him. After paying the registration- 
 dues and the first month's licence, he had not a farthing 
 left, and the sellers stood him breakfast. It was Satur- 
 day, when no digger works. To amuse himself, Bang 
 borrowed a pick and pail. What he brought to bank at 
 dusk he had no precise idea, but the diamond-koopers 
 
166 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 did not suspect his ignorance. At dinner that night, in 
 glee rather than triumph, the fellow showed us a roll of 
 bank-notes just nine hundred pounds they represented ! 
 Forthwith he took position in the set that called a six- 
 carat stone a " tizzy." Pray understand that this tale 
 is literally true. 
 
 Hutchinson I had known at home, when he was a 
 subaltern in a Lancer regiment. What follies or mis- 
 fortunes drove him into our society I have forgotten, 
 but he did not find luck there. After working like a 
 mole on Bultfontein, his health was broken by those ills 
 the unsuccessful digger cannot escape filth, exposure, 
 despair, unwholesome living. Hutchinson fell back on 
 the deserted river-camps. Pleasant scenery they gave 
 him, and this at first was medicine for a lad who came from 
 the sweltering, lime- white, thirsty veldt. But the fare 
 is harder, the work has its own attendant miseries, river- 
 boil and rheumatism, more painful if less deadly than 
 those of dry digging. When I left the fields, eighteen 
 months later, Hutchinson had not seen a diamond of 
 his own but what hideous heaps belonging to other 
 people ! 
 
 So far as we disinterested ones could judge, Grace did 
 not care for either in especial. Hutchinson had advan- 
 tages, however, besides good looks and pleasant manner. 
 He came from the neighbourhood of Wisden's birth- 
 place, and he brought an introduction very different to 
 
A KAFFIR TOAD. 167 
 
 those supplied by Cape Town bankers and Port Eliza- 
 beth wool-dealers. Grace remembered nothing of the old 
 country, but perhaps she loved it none the less for that. 
 The elder generation of the family were enthusiastic in 
 welcome, and Hutchinson constantly rode over until I 
 sold my horses, going home. Then he starved for a 
 month to economise the money for a coach-ticket to 
 Hopetown, and tramped to Yarrodale from the nearest 
 point on the high road. Such eccentricity might not 
 cause suspicion once, but it could not be repeated; the 
 man who walks fifteen miles across the veldt must be 
 mad or in love and miserably poor anyhow. After 
 three blissful days, Wisden lent him a horse for the back 
 journey. Some weeks later Hutchinson found a Boer 
 who passed Yarrodale, and in his waggon got a lift, 
 paying for it by making himself useful with a drove of 
 sheep. Grace was absent visiting a sister. After that 
 disappointment how hard nobody can tell who has not 
 been in love, and penniless, and ill, and despairing he 
 gave up. Physical weakness and disorder quelled his 
 courage. What good, after all, to torment oneself for a 
 pleasure that turned to pain in the enjoyment! Miss 
 Wisden did not care for him. 
 
 To work single-handed on the river is mere tempting 
 of the demon rheumatism. The bucket must be filled 
 knee-deep in the stream, the cradle must be sluiced, and 
 then, dripping from head to foot, the digger must seat 
 
168 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 himself at the sorting-board. But Hutchinson had no 
 mate. A Kaffir he kept, such a poverty-stricken wretch 
 as his means could support for a little while longer. 
 Very ugly and stupid was this poor fellow, distinguished 
 from all young blacks I ever saw by the irregularity and 
 badness of his teeth. I could not describe the unpleasant 
 oddity of Stump's appearance when, opening his huge 
 lips to laugh, he showed jaws gapped and discoloured. 
 But Stump was attached to the master he had served 
 two years, and Hutchinson valued his dumb friendship. 
 Dull master and scarecrow man were not ill-matched, 
 people said. Day after day, month after month, their 
 record of failure dragged its miserable length along. 
 The time was now in sight, hourly approaching, when 
 Hutchinson's last penny would be spent, and he must 
 lie down to die. He would not return to the pitiless, 
 feverish, dry diggings, though his legs could carry him. 
 Better- to starve here in his ragged tent beneath the 
 murmuring trees. To that point had the wasting of sick- 
 ness brought him ; Hutchinson called it despairing love. 
 
 He sat at his table by the river brink, and sorted 
 hopelessly. Stump brought a dripping-pail from the 
 shallow, poured it clashing in the cradle, rocked and 
 rocked, threw out successive trays, and emptied the 
 residuum, wet and glistening, on his master's board. 
 Lovely pebbles were there, of every hue saving the 
 blurred white of the river diamond. Hutchinson worked 
 
A KAFFIR TOAD. 169 
 
 mechanically, scraping from the margin of the heap, 
 smoothing the shingle, and dropping it over the edge, 
 between his knees. Meanwhile eyes and thoughts wan- 
 dered. 
 
 Gems are not found by such a method as this, but the 
 chances of diamond-digging are endless. On a certain 
 afternoon, as Hutchinson listleesly watched his boy throw 
 out the trays, he saw something that made his heart 
 leap. In the next pulse it sickened for when did luck 
 visit that claim? But he rose, found the object, stared 
 gasping, hugged it, and ran into a glint of sunshine. A 
 diamond at last, of made shape, weighing some twenty 
 carats ! 
 
 Stump showed his joy by dancing, whirling, and howl- 
 ing, with an awful frown upon his brow. When Hutchin- 
 son came to himself, he resolved to tramp to Pniel, whence 
 a coach or a post-cart would carry him to Hopetown. 
 Stump he left in charge of the ragged tent, the worthless 
 clothes and tools, with a fortnight's store of mealies, and 
 a shilling to buy offal for the weekly feast. Forthwith 
 Hutchinson started. 
 
 Before emerging from the narrow fringe of trees that 
 borders the Yaal river, he came upon a waggon of 
 singular appearance. In place of tilt it had a roof and 
 panelled walls, adorned with pictures of the most bril- 
 liant colouring. Wild beasts were there depicted alter- 
 nately with black warriors and white beauties, alike 
 
170 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 arrayed in feathers and nothing else. These works of 
 art had suffered shockingly from sunshine, and whirling 
 sand, and thorns of the bush. By a little tent alongside 
 a huge Boer sat smoking, and a bush-boy dwarfed, 
 naked, misshapen restlessly pried about. Everything 
 in the small camp declared the Kaffir trader returning 
 homewards. 
 
 In ten minutes more Hutchinson saw the blazing veldt 
 outspread, a grey expanse barred with stripes of white 
 and yellow blossom in the near distance, fading out of 
 sight. Where the horizon should be, stretched pools of 
 mirage. Flat- topped hills hung above them, like stains 
 in the pallid sky. No object in the scene stood out, 
 excepting a man's own shadow. Smooth as a floor 
 the waste appeared, though each of those shining bars 
 marked the crest of a wave invisible. Now and again* 
 though no wind blew, the sand lifted, whirled up to 
 form a little dusky pillar, danced a few yards, and 
 dropped. A melancholy land indeed to traverse in the 
 glare of African summer. 
 
 For the comprehension of those who have neither 
 digger's nor trader's experience, I must tell what is a 
 " made " stone. This shape of diamond, unusual but 
 not rare, is formed of two triangles, the one lying 
 smoothly and exactly on the other, adhering firmly; a 
 slight blow on the line of junction will make them fly 
 apart. A large made, unflawed, is commonly worth 
 
A KAFFIR TOAD. 171 
 
 more than a single crystal of the same weight, since 
 there is small waste in cutting it. Diggers do not like 
 this form, however. Flat on top and bottom, a made 
 is much more easily concealed by a dishonest servant 
 than is the plumper stone. 
 
 Four mounted Kaffirs overtook Hutchinson before he 
 had gone far, and paused at his hail. They were Dutch- 
 speaking Battapins, of Jantje's Kraal, rough as burly, 
 but not ill-natured. For a shilling they gave him a 
 mount on one of the led horses, and he reached Jardine's 
 hotel by nine o'clock. Forty-eight hours afterwards his 
 gem was sold to Schlessinger, of Hopetown, for two 
 hundred pounds. He bought some clothes, hired a horse, 
 and once more dismounted at Yarrodale. 
 
 The Wisden family were so delighted to see him, so 
 shocked at his pallor and thinness, so anxious that he 
 should remain till his strength was quite restored, that 
 Hutchinson reproached himself for certain doubts and 
 hesitations Within five minutes of arrival he had 
 made up his mind to tell Grace how he loved her. The 
 young man was not a fool. He knew that two thousand 
 pounds would hardly justify pretension to Miss Wisden's 
 hand, and he had less than a tithe of that sum. But his 
 luck had broken. If Grace would only hear him, and 
 wait a few months, he would outshine Skinner in the 
 display of gems which was often laid upon the table after 
 supper. 
 
172 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 That favourite of fortune had been staying a week 
 at Yarrodale, but he left early on the second day after 
 Hutchinson arrived. During that time no opportunity 
 arose to speak to Grace, and another day passed by, 
 happily, but anxiously. Next morning, the young man 
 went out before breakfast to shoot plovers. Wisden met 
 him on the stoop returning, and took his arm. 
 
 " My dear boy," said he, u did you yourself find that 
 made stone you told us of ? " 
 
 " Yes, in my own claim. Why? " 
 
 " I was sure you said so. Well, Schlessinger has 
 brought a Dutchman who swears that he found it, the 
 very same diamond, on Monday evening, and it was 
 stolen from his tent that night." 
 
 " Confound his impudence ! Where is he ? " 
 
 " Keep your temper, my boy. These unfortunate 
 mistakes will occur sometimes." 
 
 But it was too much that his single stroke of fortune 
 should be suspected thus. Hutchinson went in raging. 
 In the Boer he recognised the owner of that ornamental 
 waggon left behind at the river. 
 
 " What's all this, Schlessinger?" he asked roughly. 
 
 " I tell you flat, sir, Mr. de Ruyter is my old friend 
 and client. He outspanned near your claim on Monday, 
 with his pack of Kaffir produce. In evening time he 
 washed some stuff, just for pleasure, and he found a 
 macle. Mr. de Ruyter is a trader, not prudent. He 
 
A KAFFIR TOAD. 173 
 
 showed the stone in camp, and so that night his tent 
 was cut, and his belt commandeered. After a fuss, Mr. 
 de Kuyter comes to me at Hopetown, and tells me. 
 Then I think it right to show him the diamond I bought 
 from you. So here we are. That's all my say." 
 
 "I swear to him," the big Dutchman roared, "by 
 his broke brads un' scrats." 
 
 " How dare you ask me an explanation of this cock' 
 and-bull story, Schlessinger? You know that nine macles 
 in ten have their angles broken, and all are scratched in 
 the river." 
 
 " That's as may be !" he replied with warmth. " Mr. 
 de Ruyter says your boy was creeping round his tent." 
 
 " Ya ! Mine bush-boy see thy dom Kaffir skellum ! " 
 
 " Why didn't you bring him along if you suspect him?" 
 
 " Dom ! Skellum not to catch. Look here, man, I 
 take my diamond ! " 
 
 " Find it and welcome. But if either of you says 
 another word I'll knock your heads together." 
 
 "Ugh, thou talk'st!" De Ruyter answered without 
 moving. 
 
 Wisden gripped his young friend just in time. 
 
 " Make allowances," said he. " These gentlemen are 
 honest, and one of them has been wronged. When did 
 you find your stone ? " 
 
 " I am ashamed to offer an explanation, sir. At what 
 hour did you find yours, De Ruyter ? " 
 
,174 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 '* To sundown." 
 
 '* And you lost it after going to bed, at nine o'clock, 
 say. At ten o'clock, Mr. Wisden, I reached Jardine's 
 hotel, in Pniel, as Jardine and twenty men in the bar 
 will testify." 
 
 ' " I suppose you don't want a stronger alibi than that? " 
 asked Wisden. 
 
 "Not at all," said Schlessinger hastily; "I apologise, 
 sir. As matter of form we will inquire. Good morn- 
 ing, gentlemen. Where there's no ill-will there should 
 be no grudge. Mr, Hutchinson, happy to do business 
 with you at any time." He departed, dragging out 
 Mr. de Ruyter, who wanted, with many oaths, to know 
 why and how matters were thus settled. Arguing in 
 high and low German, the pair rode off. 
 
 " No worse than a droll incident so far as you are 
 concerned," said Wisden. " But I should be almost 
 afraid the Dutchman was not quite out." 
 
 " I won't suspect Stump, sir. He has stood by me 
 like an honest man through hard times terrible hard 
 times. I should begin to fear for myself almost if Stump 
 went wrong." 
 
 "Well, I didn't understand that the bush-boy had 
 seen the theft. Still, those imps are born spies and 
 detectives. I should look up Stump." 
 
 u We don't even know that De Ruyter ever had a 
 
A KAFFIR TOAD. 175 
 
 diamond. The camps will roar from Gong Gong to New 
 Rush when they hear of his broke brads and scrats." 
 
 They had wandered into the garden, and seated them- 
 selves upon a bench. White arms round his neck, a 
 fresh face pressed to his, obstructed Wisden's reply. 
 
 "Good morning, father; good morning, Mr. Hutchin- 
 son. Did you intend those plovers for any one in par- 
 ticular ? If so, it was injudicious to leave them about 
 in such a hungry house as this." 
 
 '* I laid them on the stoop for our general benefit," 
 said he. 
 
 " Then you won't suspect me of stealing them ? Oh 
 yes, father, I have been listening at the window. Good 
 girls don't listen, which is almost a pity sometimes. For 
 I can tell you something, Mr. Hutchinson. Stump was 
 here yesterday morning." 
 
 *' Are you quite sure ? " 
 
 " Oh yes; I saw him from my window while I dressed, 
 talking to Mr. Skinner's groom. If you doubt me, ask 
 father." 
 
 This was a little household saying which imputed that 
 Wisden would always back his daughter Grace. He 
 said now: 
 
 61 She may be wrong, Hutchinson, but, if it were my 
 own case, I should believe her right until the contrary 
 was proved." 
 
 " It's very strange, certainly. Stump has no business 
 
176 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 here, and that he should stop twenty-four hours without 
 communicating with me beats all explanation." 
 
 " I meant to tell you yesterday, but I forgot," Grace 
 continued ; " Stump walked away from the dam with 
 Sinclair, and I've not seen him since. But we'll ask 
 the Totty girls." 
 
 She ran away, eager and graceful as Iris. The South 
 African household is terribly observant within its pur- 
 view. Grace soon came back with a whole series of 
 reports. The toothless Kaffir was resting at the dam 
 when the servant-girls turned out. Whilst they chatted 
 with him, Sinclair arrived with his master's horses, and 
 the men met like old acquaintances. An hour after- 
 wards Stump was seen going towards Pniel alone. 
 
 After thinking over this odd story, Hutchinson 
 appealed to Grace ; Wisden had been called to the stock- 
 yard. She replied : 
 
 " My opinion is, that, in justice to all parties, you 
 should find Stump." 
 
 u I will start to-morrow." 
 
 u I should start to-day." 
 
 " It is so hard to break up one's holiday. You cannot 
 know how despairingly I have pictured this bright scene, 
 and and your bright face hour by hour, week after 
 week." 
 
 " But you will come back in three days," she answered, 
 leading him towards the house, " with an easy mind, to 
 
A KAFFIB TOAD. 177 
 
 stay as long as you please. Father and every one will be 
 sorry to see you go." 
 
 "You also?" 
 
 u As much as any of your friends." 
 
 " I want more than friendship from you, Grace. It 
 was you I dreamed of, you who made the place so bright, 
 you who make it brighter even than I fancied." 
 
 " What is the use of this, Mr. Hutchinson? " she 
 asked, looking at him steadily, not severely. 
 
 " No use if it annoys you. If you say that, I will 
 never speak of it again." 
 
 " I asked what is the use; if you had annoyed me I 
 should have spoken differently. Working-girls learn 
 that it is no use to talk of things that can never be, even 
 though one liked to do it. And I do not like to hear 
 you in this tone, Mr. Hutchinson." 
 
 u Because it's no use? Oh, tell me that ! Could you 
 bear to hear it if things were otherwise?" 
 
 *' You have no right to ask. But I will answer in 
 perfect frankness and truth that I do not know. Don't 
 misunderstand. If you were rich, I should have to think 
 and observe, and to put questions to myself, which there 
 is no need for now, and which I have certainly not 
 thought of." 
 
 " Because I am poor ? " he said, bitterly. 
 
 " Because you never used this tone before." 
 
 " But I do now." 
 
 N 
 
178 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 " And now I say there is no need to think before 
 replying." She resolutely walked into the house. 
 
 All through breakfast Hutchinson turned these words 
 over, while the merry girls pretended to believe that 
 conscience was preying on him. Grace had spoken sen- 
 sibly from the point of view she chose. But, if prudence 
 were the first question, he had much better have 
 addressed her father* So he did. Wisden listened in 
 some distress, but greater astonishment. He gently 
 hinted that the lover had no prospects; then, more 
 strongly, that Grace's fortune was not small; at length, 
 when Hutchinson persisted, that Skinner was the 
 destined husband. 
 
 " I don't believe it! That is I beg your pardon, 
 
 sir. Miss Wisden would not have answered as she did 
 if she meant to marry any one at present." 
 
 " I like you, my boy," said the father, laughing 
 grimly; "but confound your impudence! So you've 
 been talking to Grace? Well, I can venture to stand 
 by my daughter's words." 
 
 " They came to this, sir, as I understood, that if I 
 were rich she might think of it." 
 
 " Very proper ; but not put in those words, I think ? 
 No, 1 supposed not. Well, what Grace says I stick to. 
 You are a good young fellow, but you aren't rich; 
 Skinner is a good young fellow, and he is rich, that's 
 how the matter stands. Now you can't alter that, can 
 
A KAFFIR TOAD. 179 
 
 you ? Then what's the good of talk that may end in a 
 quarrel, which would deeply grieve us all? " 
 
 No good, if such were the feelings appealed to. Very 
 wretched was Hutchinson as he rode away at noon. 
 
 Wisden lent his guest a mounted Hottentot, under 
 whose direction he rode straight across the veldt to New 
 Rush with the purpose of examining Sinclair before 
 visiting Pniel. The moon rose early, the horses were 
 good, and by nine o'clock they brought him into camp. 
 The first passer-by directed him to Skinner's tent, a 
 fabric of three rooms, surrounded by canvas dependen- 
 cies, stable, cook-house, servant's quarters, store-room. 
 Bang was entertaining friends, as usual, though his 
 blacks had but just begun to wash the driving-cart in 
 which he had returned from Yarrodale for, travelling 
 at leisure, he had stayed the night at Pniel. Sinclair, 
 a big, fat-faced half-breed, showed in the visitor. Half- 
 a-dozen men, flushed with drink and excitement, sat 
 round the table in a room lined with green baize, car- 
 peted, handsomely furnished. Pictures hung upon walls; 
 the fire-place had a mantel, a glass, and a clock ; only 
 the absence of ceiling betrayed that this was not a sub- 
 stantial drawing-room. Heaps of gold stood at every 
 man's elbow. The cards set out before Skinner were 
 piled with sovereigns. He held a pack in his left hand, 
 covered with his right. 
 
 " Are you all on? Eh, who is it?" to Sinclair. 
 N2 
 
180 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 " You're as welcome as drink, Hutchinson. Take the 
 bank a moment, Spud." 
 
 As they entered the comfortable bedroom Skinner 
 said: 
 
 " I'm driving care away with a mild faro to-night for 
 a change. What is it brings you to this Golgotha ? All 
 well at Yarrodale ? That's right ! What is it then? " 
 
 Hutchinson told his purpose, which Skinner could 
 not assist in any way. He called Sinclair, who had 
 never heard of Stump, Oh, the Kaffir he talked to at 
 Yarrodale dam ? Never knew his name till now, though 
 they had been acquainted ever since Sinclair arrived 
 on the fields. For the rest, he had nothing to tell. Each 
 went his way after that gossip. 
 
 The " hotels " of New Rush were not abodes of peace 
 at that time, but Hutchinson was weak and worried and 
 tired. He turned out at dawn, and rode to Pniel. If 
 Stump had walked thither at a comfortable rate he had 
 probably arrived about nightfall of the day before; and, 
 though he had left the place, people who saw him would 
 still have a clear recollection of the toothless Kaffir. But, 
 if Stump had travelled at full speed, he might have left 
 Pniel fifty miles behind. Hutchinson reached Jardine's 
 at evening. In the bar sat an acquaintance, Mr. Bean, 
 late trooper in his own regiment, now an Inspector of 
 the frontier police. Most fortunate it was. Mr. Bean 
 would understand the situation, and would follow 
 
A KAFFIR TOAD. 181 
 
 instructions. Forthwith, taking him apart, Hutchinson 
 consulted the Inspector. 
 
 " Well, sir," said Mr. Bean, "I think I may say your 
 business is settled, and so is Meinheer Stump's. Unless 
 I'm greatly mistook, you'll find the man you're looking 
 for in the police hospital, if he's not yet been taken to 
 the dead-house. We'll see, sir, if you like." 
 
 Going along Bean told what he knew. At early dawn 
 on the day previous " old Davy," the baas of a small 
 canteen at the Drift the ford brought word to the 
 station that a wounded Kaffir lay outside his door. He 
 was carried to the hospital, where the doctor pronounced 
 him dead drunk and mortally hurt. 
 
 They crossed the river, and Bean pointed out a miser- 
 able shed of canvas, some twenty feet from the path. 
 
 " That's the place," said he. 
 
 " What sort of a man is old Davy ? " 
 
 " Why, I should say average for his sort. One don't 
 look for much virtue in a canteen-keeper. Davy's not 
 a chap you'd charge with murder, unless you'd some- 
 thing to go on. But in a general way his sort's a bad 
 'un. If you're going to ask him questions I'd wait till 
 the morning if I was you." 
 
 They reached the police hospital. The face of the 
 wounded man was so swathed with bandages and 
 sticking-plaster that Hutchinson would have scarcely 
 recognised it. But his ill-formed jaw was not to be 
 
182 ON THE BORDERLAND, 
 
 mistaken, and a strained withdrawal of the lips showed 
 it to the fullest. Stump had lain insensible for thirty- 
 six hours or more. Hutchinson waited on the doctor. 
 
 " I eay frankly," replied that pleasant gentleman, 
 " that I can form no opinion. If the patient were white 
 he would be in his grave by this time; but I've not 
 been long enough in the country to diagnose a Kaffir. 
 Experience as yet has only proved my ignorance. Your 
 boy's skull is fractured, and he has two or three killing 
 wounds besides; but I should be not at all surprised if 
 he got over it." 
 
 " How long will it be before he recovers ? " 
 
 " Mind you, it's a hundred to one he'll die; but, if he 
 doesn't then I have no idea what will happen." 
 
 Hutchinson returned with the Inspector to Pniel. He 
 asked what clothes Stump wore, and whether anything 
 had been found about him. 
 
 " Oh, didn't I tell you, sir? He hadn't a rag on his 
 body." 
 
 ** Then of course he had been robbed." 
 
 " Well, we didn't know he was anybody's boy, so the 
 nakedness was not particularly noticed. It would be a 
 strange thing in this camp if a man lay senseless for an 
 hour at night and was not robbed. Now, Mr. Hutchin- 
 son, I can talk to you free, for I didn't have the honour 
 v of making your acquaintance yesterday. Here's a naked 
 Kaffir found by a chap we have nothing against, who 
 
A KAFFIR TOAD. 183 
 
 tells his story straightforward. Have us poor over- 
 worked police who didn't enlist for any such employ- 
 ment, mind you have we nothing more particular in 
 hand than to go crowner-questing on a dead nigger ? 
 Why, sir, there was ten thousand pounds worth of 
 diamonds stole that night from Angus's store, and there 
 was two hundred Barolpng Kaffirs fought a pitched 
 battle with as many Basutos yesterday morning, besides 
 smaller business. It's devil take the hindmost here, sir." 
 
 Next day Hutchinson visited the canteen. As I have 
 said, it was a rag of canvas stretched on boughs. 
 Behind the board, on tressels which crossed its width, the 
 sleeping-gear of Mr. Davy lay hideously conspicuous. 
 A blear-eyed, towsled giant was he, cunning and brutal, 
 but he did not look a murderer. 
 
 "I want you to tell me all you know about that 
 Kaffir. He is my boy." 
 
 Mr. Davy had told all he knew to the police. He 
 mixed a drink for the inquirer, another for himself, and 
 held out his hand for the money. 
 
 " Here's q, half-sovereign," said Hutchinson. " You 
 may work out the change if you like: on oath " 
 
 " This is a lonely place, mate, after dark, though it's 
 'twixt the two camps. I don't know nothin' as would 
 harm anybody, an 3 I can't lie. What is it you want ? 
 
 " Had you seen that Kaffir before ? " 
 
 "Yes, I had. He came hereto ask a drink in the 
 afternoon " 
 
184 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 u In the afternoon ? At what hour ? " 
 
 " As near three o'clock as might be, for I'd just 
 tumbled out of a snooze which I take arter dinner. He 
 asks a drink, I say, an' he cuts away smart when I asks 
 him what the blank, blank, blank he means by showing 
 his blank black nose inside a 'spectable canteen." This 
 violence of language showed Mr. Davy's enthusiastic 
 adherence to the law which forbids serving black people. 
 " But," he continued, f * the nigger got his drink at some 
 blackguard hole, an' more'n one or two ; for when I see 
 him again, just at dark, he was in deep water, as they 
 say." 
 
 " And that's all ? On your oath ? " 
 
 " Have ye ere another of them little things, mate ? " 
 
 "Yes, if you earn it!" 
 
 " Well, I never broke my davy, though my Davy's 
 broke often enough meaning myself eh ? " with a 
 roar. " What I say can't do no one any harm unless 
 they deserve it. When that Kaffir was hanging round 
 at nightfall, a man came to him, a coloured man I 
 can't say more'n that, I swear. And they crossed the 
 drift to Pniel. There, I've done." 
 
 u You wouldn't know the coloured man again?" 
 
 "No, mate ; I tell you fair I would not ! " 
 
 Hutchinson paid the sovereign, and went to inquire 
 about Stump. Not the least change was reported. For 
 three days he employed himself and Bean in seeking a 
 
A KAFFIR TOAD. 185 
 
 clue to his boy's movements, but none turned up. Out 
 of patience, and satisfied now that Stump was a thief, 
 Hutchinson thought of leaving him there. Bean and 
 the doctor counselled him in a friendly way to deposit a 
 sum for expenses and for the burial. At this suggestion 
 he revolted. 
 
 " If I have to pay for the fellow, I'd rather have him 
 under my own eye. Can he travel, doctor ? " 
 
 u I don't know that he can't. We want his bed badly. 
 You'll take him in a waggon, of course? " 
 
 So one day Hutchinson carried off the interesting 
 patient, a senseless bag of bones, for spoon-meat is a 
 mockery to the Kaffir stomach. In the servant's quarters 
 at Yarrodale, a group of huts not too near the main 
 building, a pensioned old Hottentot was very glad to 
 take charge of Stump, and she confidently promised to 
 bring him round. Then Hutchinson sought Mr. Wisden, 
 who did not object in the least. A Kaffir more or less, 
 sick or well, made no difference. 
 
 Stump's adventure was not very interesting, when all 
 believed that he had met with his deserts ; but the 
 problem of his arrival at Pniel within nine hours of 
 leaving Yarrodale challenged the wit of the supper 
 party. It was a lonely road to travel, and, besides, what 
 farmer, digger, or trader, would give a seat to a black ? 
 
 " One of my neighbours has lost a horse, I expect," 
 said Wisden ; u that's what it comes to." 
 
186 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 <4 And a near neighbour, too," Hutchinson added. 
 
 The next night, when they sat in the study, in which 
 Grace alone was allowed to take a chair, she said : 
 
 44 This matter interests me so much, father, that I 
 have sent all round to inquire. No one in the neighbour- 
 hood has lost a horse." 
 
 44 Then Stump flew, that's all ! When he recovers 
 he'll tell us the trick, perhaps." 
 
 Half-an-hour afterwards Grace asked : 
 
 " By-the-bye, father, has Sinclair sent back Cherry 
 Ripe?" 
 
 44 One of Jardine's people brought her in yesterday." 
 
 Hutchinson was startled by a sudden thought. 
 
 " Did Sinclair go on horseback, then ? " 
 
 " Skinner had left his cart at Pniel, and they rode 
 here. His boy's horse fell lame, and I lent him Cherry 
 Ripe to return." 
 
 " May I ask, sir, whether you saw Sinclair's horse, or 
 whether you took his word for its lameness ? " 
 
 44 I didn't see it. Egad ! this suggests a commoner 
 trick than flying! Your boy has a diamond Sinclair 
 borrows a horse, takes him to Pniel, and then robs him ! 
 It's as plain as could be." 
 
 44 You forget, sir, that Bang Skinner was there. Did 
 Sinclair start, leading his own horse ? " 
 
 " Yes ; I see the difficulty. He pretended to leave 
 his own horse somewhere, I expect." 
 
A KAFFIR TOAD. 187 
 
 ".Sinclair didn't leave him anywhere along the roadj," 
 said Grace, quietly. 
 
 " You have sent to inquire?" asked Wisden, rather 
 astonished. " Well, we may take it for granted that 
 the fellow deceived his master somehow." 
 
 " And he was not long in working the trick either," 
 Hutchinson said. "It's clear, if you reckon the time, 
 that Stump must have travelled very quick. That 
 Skinner should not have observed him on that veldt, 
 which is as smooth as a floor, nor notice that his lame 
 horse had been hard ridden, seems strange." ^ 
 
 " What do you mean by that look? Upon my honour, 
 Hutchinson, I would not have believed that one of your 
 name could hint such a charge." 
 
 " I hint nothing, sir, but I mean to inquire." 
 
 " As deep as you please; but don't insult my friends 
 with your jealous fancies! There, my boy, sit down; I 
 can make allowance, but you must do the same." 
 
 Hutchinson sat down, and talked for a few moments 
 constrainedly; then he said Good -night. An hour later, 
 just before the bolts were drawn, he dropped his pack of 
 clothes from the bedroom window. In that large house- 
 hold it was easy to slip through the front door unper- 
 ceived. When all had gone to their rooms, Hutchinson 
 spread his rug on the stoop and lay down. , 
 
 Sleep would not have come to him that night though 
 he had lain on rose-leaves without a crumpled, petal in a 
 
188 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 yard of thickness. Since Skinner was chosen, he would 
 go, never to return. But to him, feverish and distracted, 
 came a vision white in the moonbeams, beautiful as 
 love. 
 
 " Dear Mr. Hutchinson," Grace pleaded, " I beg you 
 to come in. We don't allow even a Kaffir to sleep here 
 beneath the level of the dams. You are ill! Pray, 
 pray return to your room." 
 
 " There is nothing I could have refused you an hour 
 ago, Miss Wisden. If this spot is dangerous, I beg you * 
 not to stay." 
 
 u Then I will fetch father. Please listen to me." 
 
 Hutchinson felt that his host's arrival would make the 
 situation ridiculous. He had been sitting on the rug, but 
 now he got up, and instantly became aware of racking 
 pains, of phantasma in his sight, and singular indecision 
 in the use of his limbs. Grace saw him falter, and 
 caught his arm. 
 
 " You have taken the fever, Mr. Hutchinson ! Oh, 
 how dreadful ! Can you walk in ? Lean on me." 
 
 " I can walk, but not indoors," he answered with the 
 vehemence of heated blood. " I would die in the veldt 
 sooner ! I'm honest, Miss Wisden, and it was not jealousy 
 made me speak. God bless you ! Let me go ! " 
 
 "I know it was not jealousy. When father thinks 
 the matter out he will own there is cause for suspicion. 
 Don't give him more pain, Oh, please come in ! " 
 
A KAFFIR TOAD. 189 
 
 
 
 c< Do you suspect Skinner ? Then you do not love 
 him?" 
 
 " I do not, and I never shall." 
 
 " Love me, Grace ! Try ! Promise this, or I would 
 rather die here than live." 
 
 " How can I, Mr. Hutchinson? It is ungenerous to 
 ask when you are in this state." 
 
 " I will go in and get well. If you are free You 
 
 love no one ? " 
 
 " No one in the world like that." 
 
 u Then I will win your love. Now I obey you." 
 
 As Grace cautiously fitted the bars of the door, she 
 watched his feeble progress through the dusky room. 
 Presently Mr. Wisden came, cheerily penitent, with 
 those simple medicines that alleviate the common fever. 
 But, on returning at dawn, he found this was another 
 kind. To the hot and eager fit had succeeded terrible 
 depression, and the pain of his limbs was such that 
 Hutchinson could not repress his groaning. 
 
 " I fear yours is rheumatic fever," Wisden said, com- 
 passionately. 
 
 " Give me something that will kill," he answered. 
 " In the other world a man cannot suffer worse than this." 
 
 " Cheer up, my boy ! I've known lots of fellows who 
 worried through a bout of it." 
 
 <J They had something to live for, then. I've had 
 misery enough, and there's only misery before me." 
 
190 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 When Wisden made his report downstairs, the girls 
 all cried over their work. They picked wool for a bed, 
 but when it was finished Hutchinson refused to exchange 
 his hard mattress. The doctor came, but he would take 
 no medicine. To treat a man in that state forcibly 
 would be to kill him with sheer pain. Wisden argued 
 and adjured, the girls pleaded and wept to no purpose. 
 In that mood and that agony Hutchinson wanted to die, 
 as a relief from present sufferings uncheered by hopes 
 for the future ; and he was likely to have his wish. 
 
 At evening Grace came to her father. She said : 
 
 " If I ask Mr. Hutchinson to be patient he will 
 submit." 
 
 " Then go at once." 
 
 " If he recovers he will expect me to marry him." 
 
 l( That's absurd ! However, save the boy's life, and 
 refer him to me." 
 
 "I will not do that, father whatever I do, not that; 
 but I will beg Mr. Hutchinson to be patient." 
 
 " Manage it your own way, dear. Why is the lad so 
 unlucky? He's worth twenty Skinners after all." 
 
 So Grace appealed, and even in that agony the sick 
 man's brow cleared at her words. Then she had Stump 
 removed to the house, and nursed him carefully. The 
 Hopetown doctor examined him and reported. 
 
 "Why is that Kaffir like a toad, Miss Grace?" he 
 began, entering the room. 
 
A KAFFIR TOAD. 191 
 
 " Is he like a toad? I'm sure I don't know why." 
 
 " Because he's awfully ugly, and he bears a precious 
 jewel in his head. Look at that ! " The doctor displayed 
 a fine made diamond. "It was jammed between his 
 broken teeth at the back. Fll bring my tools to-morrow 
 for an operation, and he'll tell us all that has happened 
 in a day or two." 
 
 More experienced and more attentive than his con- 
 frbres of Klipdrift, the doctor fulfilled his prediction. 
 When Grace had laboriously transcribed the wandering 
 narrative, she went to seek her eldest brother, and found 
 him chatting with Skinner, who had just arrived. 
 
 "Will you read that, Jack," she said, "whilst we 
 take a stroll in the garden ? " 
 
 Jack received the paper wondering, and Skinner, 
 wondering, led Grace out. 
 
 "What I have given my brother," she began, c ' is 
 Stump's declaration. He says that he told your groom 
 how he had found a diamond which he was taking to 
 his master. Sinclair assured him that Mr. Hutchinson 
 had gone to New Rush, and offered him a mount as far 
 as Pniel. Allow me to finish ! At the first outspan 
 Stump came up with you, and you, Mr. Skinner, asked 
 to look at his diamond. But you told Mr. Hutchinson 
 you had never seen his boy, and Sinclair said he had 
 left him at the dam." 
 
192 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 " I can't believe that you take this drunken Kaffir's 
 word before mine." 
 
 " I do, Mr. Skinner, and everybody will. For he 
 does not know your name now, he never saw you before 
 that day, but he will identify you when the time conies 
 as Sinclair's master who rode with him from Yarrodale." 
 
 " And you charge me with waylaying this brute? " 
 
 "He does not accuse you of that. But he accuses 
 Sinclair, and my father will issue a warrant and execute 
 it within ten minutes." 
 
 " I swear to you, Miss Wisden, that I knew nothing 
 of Sinclair's villainy till next day. The rest I confess, 
 and it makes no matter; I wanted money, and I hoped 
 Stump would sell the diamond cheap. Mr. Wisden had 
 made me a loan for a speculation as he understood. It's 
 all lost, and my business now was to borrow more. The 
 game is up ! It's useless now, Grace, to say that I 
 loved -" 
 
 " Quite useless. What shall you do? " 
 
 " I can't go back to the fields," he answered, sullenly, 
 u with this charge over me. I shall run to the Free 
 State." 
 
 " Are your claims clear?" 
 
 <* Yes, except some business debts and your father's 
 loan." 
 
 " Will you transfer them to Mr. Hutchinson for five 
 hundred pounds down ? " 
 
A KAFFIR TOAD. 193 
 
 ' Yes." 
 
 " Wait in the arbour for ten minutes." 
 
 Jack was approaching, very grave. Grace met and 
 turned him, whilst she fetched writing materials. 
 
 u Now, Mr. Skinner, here is a cheque for five hundred 
 pounds, and my brother will witness the transfer.' 7 
 
 He wrote it and annexed the licences. 
 
 " It's a good day for Hutchinson," he said, viciously. 
 " A man might spare the price of a wedding-ring out of 
 that pile. Good-bye, Jack ! Keep clear of the cards." 
 
 Twenty minutes later Bang rode off, not gaily, but not 
 uncheerfully, to try his fortune in other scenes. 
 
 Mr. Wisden does not know the truth to this day, and 
 Hutchinson did not know it till long afterwards. They 
 understood that Skinner, in remorse, broken with debts 
 and embarrassments, made over his claims. Mr. Wisden 
 readily advanced what was needful to free them of lawful 
 encumbrance, for it was gambling that swamped the first 
 owner. 
 
 In twelve months' time Hutchinson married, and, 
 final proof that his vein of ill-luck had passed away, he 
 realised his claims in time, and bought a farm near 
 Yarrodale. De Ruyter received his macle, but he is 
 not to be persuaded that Hutchinson's fortune is not due, 
 in some mysterious way, to his temporary possession of 
 that talisman. Stump is fat and very much married. 
 The last news of Skinner reported him to be winning and 
 losing fortunes daily at Pilgrim's Eest, on the gold-fields 
 
 o 
 
194 
 
 A STICK. 
 
 RECORDING the story of my " Gun-rack," I casually 
 mentioned, in a list of articles which at that moment lay 
 across it, " an almond stick cut in the Arx at Candahar, 
 and a thorn-stick from the Khoord Khyber."* A com- 
 rade of the Afghan war pointed out to me last night 
 that I was slightly forgetful of the facts in this descrip- 
 tion. Major L. reminds me that he cut the almond- 
 stick referred to, with others, in the garden of the kiosk 
 where General Stewart had his quarters, whilst I strolled 
 round keeping watch for damage to the trees was rigor- 
 ously prohibited. As he identifies the object, I submit 
 to correction, observing only that I did cut an almond- 
 stick in the Arx, which apparently is lost; and that I 
 never claimed, as it chances, to have secured this trophy 
 in person. 
 
 The pleasant controversy recalled every detail of a 
 scene too long familiar to General Stewart's staff. For 
 my own part, I left it after some weeks' stay, rode back 
 
 * Legends of my Bungalow" A Gunrack." 
 
A STICK. 195 
 
 to India, crossed the Punjab, and joined Sir Sam 
 Browne's force operating on the Khyber line. 
 
 During our first halt at Candahar we lived in camp 
 on the north-east side of the town, in position to repel a 
 foe descending from Ghuzni. After the occupation of 
 Khelat-i-Ghilzai danger from this point was no longer 
 to be feared, and the army sought more comfortable 
 quarters. In spring and early summer, before the stones 
 crack and the earth shrivels in heat nowhere more cruel, 
 the neighbourhood of Candahar may be pretty. But my 
 recollection of it adds no pleasing picture to the mind's 
 crowded gallery. All round stood the circuit of grey 
 naked rocks ; beneath, the grey naked walls of flat- 
 roofed villages, among grey gnarled orchards. For the 
 space of a mile about the city it is all one Golgotha, a 
 field of bones, generation on generation. Thousands 
 of monuments dot the place, many of them large and 
 costly, but all ruinous. Funeral processions meander 
 through the waste at afternoon and early morning ; all 
 through the night jackals and wild dogs and hyenas 
 clamorously search the new-made graves. Each few 
 yards one must jump a rapid stream, muddy with human 
 clay, embanked with bones. 
 
 The general appearance of a cemetery is enhanced by 
 groves of cypress which rise here and there, dark and 
 funereal. But in effect those trees mark villa-gardens, 
 inhabited by merchants of the town or officers. Colonel 
 
 02 
 
196 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 St. John requisitioned one of them for the general and 
 his staff. As we marched in from Khelat-i-Ghilzai, guides 
 should have been waiting to show our new quarters, but 
 they did not appear, and we lost ourselves. An amus- 
 ing promenade that was for horsemen, who "larked " 
 over the streams and walls, but the infantry of the escort 
 swore in many languages a unanimous anathema. 
 
 After several excursions in a wrong direction, and 
 much aimless steeple-chasing, we found our new abode. 
 A solid wall inclosed it, perfectly rectangular, along the 
 top side of which coursed a deep and broad irrigation 
 channel, .traversed by a substantial bridge. Entering 
 the narrow gateway at one angle, upon the right, in a 
 space between the outer and an inner circuit, were stables 
 and servants' dwellings, strongly-built, pitch-dark, 
 venomous with filth. By this arrangement, a mob or a 
 band of brigands forcing the single entrance would have 
 all the armed retainers of the household on its flank- 
 Beyond the inner wall ran another stream, carefully 
 embanked, and lined with sturdy willows ; beyond 
 that a broad terrace the dam, in fact, of this swift 
 brook and the garden sloped gently from it? founda- 
 tions. 
 
 The whole space within the walls may have been two 
 to three acres. It was divided by a canal, some twenty 
 feet wide, shallow, paved with flat blocks, banked with 
 masonry. Hewn stepping-stones crossed it here and 
 
A STICK. 197 
 
 there. At intervals along the sides opened sluices for 
 irrigation. The upper half of the garden was laid out in 
 squares, ten feet across or so, for vegetables and flowers, 
 each of them surrounded by its water-channel. A num- 
 ber of walks, broad and smooth, intersected the space, 
 each lined with cypress ; and the smaller fruit-trees 
 pomegranates, oranges, and the like stood everywhere. 
 
 In the middle of the garden the canal poured into a 
 large tank, walled with masonry, and provided with steps 
 on every face. Broken structures therein had probably 
 been fountains. From this point the ground was devoted 
 to orchard trees. Beyond the tank the canal still de- 
 scended, till its waters fell into a stream, almost a little 
 river, at the bottom. N^ery handsome trees met across it. 
 Beyond ran the garden wall. 
 
 Three kiosks, or pavilions, stood in this pleasure 
 ground, a large one at the top, one right and left mid- 
 way down either side. Though built of mud, they were 
 not inelegant. The principal of them, occupied by 
 General Stewart, Colonel Hills (now Major- General), 
 D.A.A.G., Major Chapman (now Colonel), D.A.Q.M.G., 
 and the chiefs aide-de-camp, Norman Stewart, had been 
 decorated in the Persian manner at no small cost. Walls 
 and ceilings of the reception-rooms were coated with 
 stucco ornaments, brilliantly coloured, or were painted 
 with roses as thick as they could lie. One chamber had 
 remains of that curious panelling in fragments of mirror, 
 
198 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 symmetrically framed, which is seen, more or less, wher- 
 ever Pathan architecture established itself in Hindostan. 
 I do not know, however, that it is not borrowed from 
 the Persian. 
 
 Furniture and carpets possibly had matched this 
 splendour of the walls; but when we arrived, here as 
 elsewhere, the Candahar populace had worked their 
 will. For this dwelling belonged to Mir Afzul, the 
 governor, who had given it as a residence to two ladies 
 of his family. When he fled, therefore, it was looted. 
 In a well-built suite of rooms beneath the level of the 
 ground an area, in fact we saw evidence of an 
 attempt to burn the house. These subterranean 
 chambers are occupied during the heat of summer. 
 In one of them I found a stock of bulbs, mostly nar- 
 cissus, and seeds. It had been the gardener's store- 
 room. 
 
 In the day when those buildings were raised, and 
 those waterworks constructed, some degree of public 
 confidence evidently reigned at Candahar. I know not 
 when that time was. In an epoch less happy, but more 
 readily identified, the walls had crumbled without re- 
 pair, all the glass had vanished, the fountains had 
 clothed themselves in moss. But the garden had been 
 cared for. At every corner stood such clumps of rose 
 and jasmine as I never saw, the mass of stems three feet 
 diameter, spreading fifteen feet on every side. The 
 
A STICK. 199 
 
 irrigated beds were green with spinach, the walks lined 
 with iris and overhung with cypress, the orchard-trees 
 well- trained. 
 
 This is a long introduction, but I fancy readers may 
 be not uninterested in the sketch of a Pathan villa. 
 Memory recalls one much more magnificent, that of 
 Rosarbad, on the Cabul side, which a great Ghilzai 
 chief had just completed. Details of the scene there 
 dwell among the most charming recollections in my 
 mind, but they are vague. For I stopped but a few 
 hours, going up and returning. Many officers who 
 served in that campaign will remember the graceful 
 mansion I refer to their first halt, I think, after leaving 
 Jellalabad. 
 
 We rode into our new quarters with a fine appetite, 
 and the mess-cooks leisurely began their preparations. 
 What moral courage is required to check a digression 
 on our mess-cooks, their ways and manners ! 
 
 Before the meal was ready, a small group of natives 
 gathered on the terrace, under sanction of Captain 
 Molloy, our staff interpreter. They were people of 
 condition, dressed in the Persian style long coats of 
 pushmina cloth, edged with narrow gold cord, beau- 
 tifully embroidered on shoulders and chest ; fur caps, 
 wide breeches, and high yellow boots. To them arrived 
 Colonel St. John, political officer, now Colonel Sir 
 Oliver St. John, K.S.I. Presently the general ap- 
 
200 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 peared, eager for his breakfast. He listened with in- 
 terest to their petition, and courteously dismissed them. 
 
 The chief of these visitors lodged a claim to the 
 house we occupied, Mir Afzul had taken it from him 
 by force. It appeared that the claimant was a partisan 
 of that brother of Shere Air's who killed his nephew, 
 the Ameer's favourite son, and was killed by him, in 
 action. I forget the names and the place, but those 
 interested in Afghan politics know all the painful story, 
 and tor others it does not matter. How impossible I 
 should have thought it, three brief years ago, that such 
 a grave event in history would slip my recollection, 
 abiding only in colourless outline ! The place it then 
 filled is occupied by other facts to be in their turn 
 dismissed. 
 
 When Yacoob Khan took the city, he found there 
 the widow of his uncle, with a baby boy. They were 
 forthwith imprisoned in the Arx, or citadel, and re- 
 mained there till we set them free. Every one at mess 
 was touched when Colonel St. John described his 
 interview with this young prince, now twelve or 
 fourteen years old, a captive from infancy. I know not 
 whether he still lives. Terror and solitude had crushed 
 the lad. His limbs, his complexion, reminded one of 
 plants grown in the dark. Suddenly brought into the 
 daylight world, born, as it were, at an age to see, and 
 in a painful sense to understand, the million of strange 
 
A STICK. 201 
 
 things around, there was great danger that his intellect 
 would fail. 
 
 I am aware of no modern instance like this. The 
 imagination cannot fancy what must have been the 
 feelings of this boy, intelligent of nature, when the door 
 he had never passed was opened, and he stepped into 
 the bustling, anxious, savage world of Candahar. 
 
 The young prince had not been absolutely deprived 
 of a companion. With his uncle's widow and his 
 cousin, Yacoob Khan confined the wife and child of 
 this sirdar who claimed our quarters. His life was 
 spared on that account, but he lost his property. 
 
 General Stewart ordered that the case should be 
 examined, and an arrangement made, if it proved just. 
 This news spread through the city, and forthwith arose 
 a dozen litigants. The original pretender collapsed at 
 once, for he had no better title than Mir Afzul's ladies, 
 though one earlier in date. Colonel St. John was per- 
 secuted with all the modern history of Candahar-, its 
 invasions and confiscations, the alliances of its inha- 
 bitants, the laws of real property, and the decrees of 
 successive governors. Having other complications in 
 hand, he appealed to the general, and our stout old 
 chief, laughing heartily, relegated this question to the 
 native courts. There it would still be disputing hotly, 
 I don't doubt, if the prospect of rupees had not vanished 
 with the sircar. And meanwhile we paid no rent. 
 
202 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 I heard an outline of several amongst these claims. 
 It was mighty dull, that long wait at Candahar. We 
 had left the arctic climate in our rear, and we could sit 
 in the mess-tent after dinner, chatting ; though there 
 was no drink but rum, and only a " tot" of that, pour 
 tout potage. One of these stories dwelt in my mind. 
 What I remember is here set down. 
 
 Our garden, as was alleged, once belonged to a mer- 
 chant whom I will call Haidar Khan. He traded 
 largely in Central Asia, transporting Indian and Euro- 
 pean manufactures, and bringing back tea, saltpetre, 
 turquoises, cheap gaudy silks, and Persian goods. 
 Bokhara was his favourite market (may I here use 
 the licence of an expert to suggest that the accent of 
 this word falls upon the second syllable?). When the 
 governor of Candahar, in rebellion against Cabul, 
 thought fit to send letters and presents to the Ameer 
 of Bokhara, he naturally chose Haidar Khan to bear 
 them. No trader had such tact in dealing with the 
 robber chieftains on that long route ; no one had 
 suffered so little loss from disease of beasts and 
 slaves. 
 
 For some years past, Haidar Khan, now growing old, 
 had ceased to accompany his kafilas. He was rich. 
 His town-house, jealously protected by high blank 
 walls, contained a treasure in its plate and jewellery 
 alone. Very many thousand golden coins lay stored 
 
A STICK. ^03 
 
 in a secret place which no one knew except his confi- 
 dential slave : Darics and Bactrian pieces, which to think 
 of makes the numismatist feel tigrish, Venetian sequins, 
 Austrian ducats, Russian imperials, English sovereigns, 
 the spoil of every race and every age. Accomplished 
 slaves and fair daughters amused the old man's leisure. 
 One care alone oppressed him, and it was of a sort to 
 which Pathans are used. 
 
 Haidar's sons had turned out ill, extravagant, un- 
 dutiful, addicted to the muddy wine of Shiraz and the 
 bhang of southern infidels. But few of his neighbours 
 had a pleasanter experience, and, since the boys had not 
 yet been detected in a conspiracy to murder him, Haidar 
 had still reason to be thankful. 
 
 The command of the governor was annoying. In the 
 first place, no respectable trader likes to compromise 
 himself in political intrigue. There was not much 
 danger truly on this score, since the authorities at 
 Herat were friendly, and the clans along the road felt 
 no interest in Ameer or Governor. But the journey 
 would occupy twelve months at least, and* Haidar left 
 a thousand cares behind. His money would be safe 
 under protection of the guild as safe, that is, as money 
 can be in Afghanistan. But the guild would not take 
 charge of personal effects, silver dishes and gold cups 
 and jewels. Who could be trusted to guard his slaves 
 when the master was away, and his wild sons skirmished 
 
204 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 round ? Haidar resolved to bury his wealth, and to 
 take the young men with him. 
 
 Do not think, be it said in parenthesis, that I exag- 
 gerate the riches of this Pathan merchant. It is recorded 
 in history that when the English general made a call for 
 funds on Shikarpore, forty years ago, thirty thousand 
 pounds was furnished in two hours, and one hundred 
 thousand pounds offered before night. Shikarpore is 
 the next bridge, so to speak, of the Pactolus that flows 
 through Candahar from Central Asia ; a place even now 
 not half so large nor half so wealthy, a mere village in 
 comparison two score years ago. No disturbance, no 
 confiscation, no misgovernment can stop the supply of 
 gold which pours down that channel. For ages Can- 
 dahar has been plundered systematically, but the only 
 misfortune which can for a while delay its recovery is 
 the blocking of the road above. 
 
 So Haidar Khan set out, with his two sons, and his 
 long train of camels. After many months' journeying 
 he reached Bokhara. His usual good fortune attended 
 him along the road. The most savage of robber chief- 
 tains accepted their black-mail without complaint, dis- 
 armed by his pleasant shrewdness ; they even made him 
 valuable gifts in return. He delivered the letters and 
 the nuzzur ; unloaded his merchandize at the serai ; took 
 a house and servants; prepared for a long and profitable 
 trade, whilst the Ameer was thinking out his policy, and 
 considering what presents to return. 
 
A STICK. 205 
 
 In some months of delay Haidar turned his capital 
 over several times. At length all was ready. What 
 reply Bokhara sent to Candahar upon political questions 
 I am not informed. But the nuzzur consisted of Tur- 
 kestan and Yarkhundi horses, Bokhara camels and slaves; 
 beside, one may presume, such trifling souvenirs as silks 
 and arms gold-fretted, turquoises, embroidered horse- 
 trappings, &c. With these in charge, Haidar made ready 
 to set back. 
 
 The conduct of his sons at Bokhara has not been re- 
 corded; probably, being Afghans, they did some suc- 
 cessful trade, and in the intervals compassed as much 
 wickedness as they could find to do. But when it came 
 to ordering the march, Haidar found that the eldest had 
 two Persian women bought captives, of course whom 
 he proposed to carry down. This could not be suffered. 
 In Bokhara the prophet's law against enslaving Moslems 
 is not much regarded ; and at Candahar they are not very 
 rigid on the abstract question. But Haidar was a per- 
 sonage. The eyes of the pious rested on him. Useless, 
 and indeed dangerous to plead at Candahar that Shiah 
 heretics are not included amongst Moslem, for there are 
 many Shiahs there, and the Kazilbashis are a powerful 
 community. A hundred considerations made the old 
 man firm in his denial, and the slaves were left behind ; 
 I do not know in what position. Very vicious Haroun 
 looked as he took his place in the caravan. 
 
206 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 The Ameer's offerings were all of the highest class. 
 Turkestan horses so punchy, so large-eyed, so velvety of 
 coat, so clean of limb, the Persian Shah does not possess. 
 The heads of the Yarkhundi's were long as their pedi- 
 gree; when they arched their necks superbly they could 
 bite a fly upon their chests. The silken fleece of the 
 camels almost swept the ground ; and their beautiful eyes, 
 shaded by thick curled lashes, shone through a mane as 
 stately as a lion's. I think I hear a critic murmuring 
 aghast, " \V hat animals are these the Legender is in- 
 venting ? " In truth the descriptions would not apply 
 to usual breeds of horses or camel. But they are true 
 nevertheless. 
 
 Led by their syces, the steeds marched loose, their 
 gorgeous saddles and accoutrements safely stored away. 
 But each camel bore a gilded litter with silk curtains, 
 and in each litter rode a slave Haidar had not thought 
 needful to ask whether Moslem or no, since they were 
 destined for his superiors. He himself kept with this 
 bevy, and his trustiest servants mounted guard at night. 
 The young men, and especially his two sons, were for- 
 bidden to approach. 
 
 But elderly travellers sleep sound after the day's long 
 march. Pathan youths are enterprising ; Eastern girls 
 not less inquisitive, capricious, thoughtless, than our 
 own. The effect of seclusion practised upon female 
 kind is to make the prisoner especially liable to sudden 
 
A STICK. 207 
 
 gusts of admiration. To be quite accurate, perhaps, 
 she is not more liable by nature than are her English 
 siste rs ; but these get so early used to check the feeling 
 that it is regarded generally as household fun. The 
 Oriental girl has no opportunity to use herself to this 
 phenomenon, nor has she any practice of self-restraint. 
 Also it is the instinctive bent of prisoners to cheat their 
 jailor, of young women to rebel against discipline. This 
 impulse is naturally felt more strongly by a pampered 
 slave-maiden than by the free-born. For such a purpose 
 bitter enemies will combine and keep a secret. More- 
 over I really must one day indite a brief essay on the 
 conditions, sentiments, moral anatomy of womankind 
 under Moslem rule. Upon no subject whatsoever is 
 such ignorant nonsense current. In twenty years of 
 travel through lands, for the most part, where poly- 
 gamy prevails I have learned, by daily use and hearing, 
 the pros and cons something, at least, of the actual 
 facts ; and on a topic so intensely grave those who think 
 they know the truth should speak out. 
 
 From the considerations noted I can believe that 
 Haroun established some sort of compromising relations 
 with one of the slaves. Such a charge was made against 
 him, or, rather, against Haidar. It is not necessary to 
 imagine that the relations were criminal in any sort ; 
 mere bowing acquaintance, so to put it, would justify a 
 savage punishment in the eyes of the Candahar gover- 
 
208 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 nor. Haidar Khan was not ignorant of what was pass- 
 ing, for he threatened his son with death if he did not 
 amend. Some time afterwards, next day perhaps, 
 Haroun vanished with his personal followers : the 
 younger son remained. 
 
 In due process of time the kafila reached that point 
 where the road from Farah gives upon the great t-ade 
 route between Hindostan and Central Asia. Every 
 school-boy knows quite as well as he knows many 
 other facts attributed to his omniscience that Farah is 
 a great strategic position in the midst of that quadri- 
 lateral Herat, Candahar, Ghuzni, Cabul. Owing to 
 circumstances uninteresting to detail, but intelligible 
 enough, the garrison of this place is generally loyal. 
 Farah was held at the moment by a zealous partisan of 
 the Ameer. He was informed, no doubt, of the treason- 
 able correspondence which Haidar carried what secret 
 of the sort can be maintained in a land which has no 
 telegraph, no penny press, no correspondents, special or 
 other ? But his quarters lay some distance from the 
 caravan road, and in the space between dwelt lawless 
 tribes, Atahzai, Alizai, Durani, who will admit no autho- 
 rity to come amongst them. For they live by black- 
 mail, which government officials would appropriate to 
 themselves. 
 
 Haidar, therefore, did not dream of peril from the 
 governor of Farah. At the junction of the roads, never- 
 
A STICK. 209 
 
 theless, his caravan was intercepted by overwhelming 
 force. Without discussion of terms, the Ameer's officials 
 seized him and marched the kafila across the hills. In- 
 credible to relate, the robber clans cheated of their due 
 made no resistance. 
 
 Arrived at Farah, the governor held durbar and tried 
 his prisoners publicly. Haidar Khan, overwhelmed with 
 the evidence and bewildered by the perception that 
 treachery enveloped him on every side, could make no 
 defence. The treasonable letters were produced. Every 
 slave in the kafila knew facts enough to damn him. 
 Nothing remained but to pass sentence. All Haidar 's 
 personal property was confiscated. The presents of 
 Bokhara, slaves, camels, horses, and the rest, were de- 
 spatched to Cabul that is to say, so ran the decree. 
 We may have our doubts whether the Ameer derived 
 one rupee benefit from all this plunder. 
 
 Nothing more is said of Haroun and the fatal 
 beauty. Our tale henceforth deals with his younger 
 brother. The theory of Haidar's innocence towards the 
 Governor of Candahar, his employer, is based on the 
 supposition that Haroun concocted all the plot, nego- 
 tiated with the chieftains, secured a free passage for the 
 troops, persuaded the Commandant of Farah to try a 
 dangerous coup. And so, perhaps, he won the stipu- 
 tedla prize, whatever it might have been. But, from 
 one's knowledge of Afghans, one is inclined to think 
 
 p 
 
210 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 it more probable that the Commandant rewarded him 
 by cutting off the traitor's head much more probable 
 still, that he poisoned him. And one may almost take 
 it for granted that the Helen of this strife was transferred* 
 with her comrades, to the governor's harem, together 
 with all goods and treasures that had not been already 
 looted by his faithful servants. 
 
 In consideration of his virtuous character and his high 
 position in the mercantile community, Haidar Khan was 
 not put to death. His captor held him to ransom for 
 the profit of the Ameer, nominally. A large sum was 
 named, but one the great trader could afford without 
 serious inconvenience. Accordingly, he drew a bill 
 upon his guild. There was difficulty in finding trust- 
 worthy persons to receive the cash, since the best adhe- 
 rents of the Farah governor would have been massacred 
 at Candahar. At length the younger son was commis- 
 sioned to fetch it, under surveillance of some neutral 
 individuals. He went, and did not return ; neither did 
 his colleagues. 
 
 After waiting an unreasonable time, Haidar Khan 
 wrote to the guild direct, telling all the circumstances. 
 In the leisurely course of things prevailing in Afghan- 
 istan, the cash arrived, under charge of honest mer- 
 chants trading with Farah. In the meanwhile, various 
 shrewd but painful processes had been tried to stimulate 
 the captive's ingenuity. The guild explained that 
 
A STICK. 211 
 
 Haidar's son had duly presented himself, and had 
 received the money ; a copy of his receipt was 
 inclosed. 
 
 It acknowledged ten times the sum demanded; by 
 the addition of a cypher this dutiful youth had obtained 
 nearly all his father's fortune, and vanished with it 
 into space. 
 
 In terrible distress and anxiety, Haidar Khan re- 
 turned to Candahar. There he was instantly arrested 
 as a traitor ; the main cause of suspicion lay in the 
 acquiescence of the Durani sirdars to his capture on the 
 road, to be explained only, as the accusers argued, by 
 Haidar's strong personal influence with them. Long 
 before this, the governor of Candahar had made up his 
 mind and sequestrated all that was left, town-house, 
 villa, accomplished slaves, fair daughters, and the rest. 
 As for the silver dishes and gold cups, they may be buried 
 yet, a treasure to be disinterred, with many more, when 
 the Russians Haussmannise this imperial city. 
 
 After languishing some months in prison, Haidar 
 Khan was tried and found innocent. The next step 
 was to make the governor disgorge, if possible. Whilst 
 Haidar engaged in the beginning of this hopeless task, 
 the governor of Farah inarched on Candahar, with a 
 swarm of Durani tribesmen, who had suddenly turned 
 loyal. They fought some successful battles, and the city 
 capitulated. This was final ruin. From the Ameer's 
 
212 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 lieutenant Haidar had no mercy to expect. He died. 
 But the sentence of the court which pronounced him 
 guiltless of the crime for which he had lost his property 
 was the only legal instrument bearing on his case. The 
 claim was not forgotten by his heirs when General 
 Stewart rashly talked of paying rent for our quarters. 
 But there were other pretensions, both older and newer. 
 I incline to believe, that, if the title of that garden had 
 been exhaustively gone through, some generations of 
 lawyers would have been harmlessly consumed in the 
 interesting task. 
 
213 
 
 A POPO BEAD. 
 
 THE sale of Ashanti loot at Cape Coast Castle dwells 
 in my memory as a very quaint and interesting experi- 
 ence. The scene was picturesque, the business was 
 amusing ; and the transaction as a whole closed our 
 campaign with such dramatic fitness as I have never 
 since beheld on any stage of actual and living history. 
 The melodrama had been played through, virtue was 
 triumphant vice, defeated, had fled the scene ; and 
 upon the very spot where the " action " first arose the 
 meritorious performers received their visible reward in 
 the spoils of the oppressor. It, was an ending to the 
 war-play complete and smooth and rounded off, as the 
 Latin grammar puts it. 
 
 Very little plunder was obtained in the Gold Coast 
 Expedition, saving that found in the palace. A few 
 soldiers, no doubt, snatched an opportunity to rummage 
 in the breech-cloth of a slaughtered foe ; fewer still dis- 
 covered there a little store of gold-dust. Some, per- 
 haps, as they burst their way through the teeming 
 
214 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 jungle, wreathed in smoke, echoing with musketry, and 
 wail of cow-horns, and ringing snatches of the battle- 
 song, marked a bracelet on some corpse trodden under 
 foot, and wrenched it off. But two cases only were 
 rumoured in my hearing. At Coomassie itself, where 
 valuable spoil lay all around, our eyes were greedily 
 fixed upon Bantama, the sacred treasure-house, where 
 six generations of Ashanti kings lie buried, with their 
 accumulated wealth around them. That mysterious 
 and dreadful spot we were not fated to behold, but 
 those who expected an arduous march, and a despairing 
 fight next day, made the most of a blessed halt. And 
 every one was put upon his honour not to touch the 
 curious things lying masterless on every side. Midnight 
 had past when a general order to loot was issued, and 
 nineteen officers in twenty did not even hear of the 
 permission till the town lay in flames behind our re- 
 treating column. Had I known it in time, there would 
 be some graceful costly ornaments in my cottage that 
 now lie buried deep beneath the ruins of Coomassie. 
 
 Our prize-agents certainly did well to hold an auction 
 of such things as they secured at Cape Coast Castle. 
 Very many of the objects sold would not have fetched 
 pence in London which there fetched pounds. Aggry 
 and Popo beads, jewels on the West Coast, would be 
 despised by English children ; though their parents, if 
 concerned with the African trade, might contemplate 
 
A POPO BEAD. 215 
 
 them with a sense of despairing mystery. The native 
 silks, though superbly wrought, are vague of colour, 
 meaningless in design, and useless for our purposes. 
 The Ashanti cloths have every merit, but at the price 
 they reach upon the coast one might buy Oriental stuff 
 much richer of effect for any object we could set them 
 to. And there were rich men in our little army who 
 ran up the antique plate and the thousand golden knick- 
 knacks as high as any home enthusiasts could possibly 
 have gone. 
 
 The best of scene-painters could not plan a more 
 romantic, more fantastic edifice than Cape Coast Castle. 
 I do not know who built it, and the date I have for- 
 gotten ; but he was a clever man, and that was a happy 
 period of the picturesque in architecture. From the 
 -sea one beholds a huge central tower, its angles rounded 
 off; with walls and battlements, turrets and curtains, 
 bastions and roofs, standing pell-mell beneath its shadow. 
 The main courtyard, protected by portcullis and huge 
 gate-towers, is triangular in shape. Staircases mount 
 from it, and verandahs jut out in charming irregularity. 
 
 Our sale was held in the Transport office, called the 
 Palaver Hall in former times ; and since restored, I 
 suppose, to its original purpose. This great chamber 
 is fifty feet long, perhaps, by thirty broad ; it has eight 
 huge windows, and a spacious balcony on either side. 
 Great triumphs and panic-stricken councils that hall 
 
216 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 had seen, and its era of revolution is not yet closed, 
 I fear, though in our haste we thought so then. For 
 months past it had been the headquarters of Captain 
 O'Connor and his busy staff, who all, in emulation of 
 their commanding officer, strove to keep their wits 
 bright, and their tempers cheerful, under the most 
 irritating form of labour. Here, the long hot day 
 through, an endless string of carriers filed in and out, 
 divided by the neat policemen into smaller streams 
 this to the pay-desk, that to the registrar, that to the 
 distributor of metal tickets. Voluble excuses and angry 
 replies, shouts of men forcibly led out, giggling of girls, 
 clash of labels tied in a ponderous bunch, jingle of 
 money-bags, ceased not from dawn till dusk. 
 
 It was here that the prize-masters arranged their 
 stock, and conducted the auction, mounted aloft on 
 tables. In the front row beneath, officers strolled round 
 and bid and laughed and chatted. At their rear stood 
 merchants of the town, black as you can paint, but 
 attired, more or less, in the costumes of Regent Street. 
 Behind them the women of rank, not ungracefully 
 dressed, and superbly ornamented. They wore massive 
 gold combs in their wool, rolled up to a cushion on the 
 head, gold butterflies over the brow, half-a-dozen gold 
 chains about the neck, earrings, bracelets, anklets, rings 
 of Aggry bead and gold. At their back a rail repressed 
 the clamorous and excited crew of " common niggers." 
 
A POPO BEAD. 217 
 
 Bidding was so spirited at first, and the "fun of the 
 fair" so enticing, that I went rather beyond my means. 
 In the pause for lunch, I discovered myself to be pos- 
 sessor of a very miscellaneous collection, expensive odds- 
 and-ends which long since have been given away or 
 lost. One object only I still cherish in a mutilated 
 form. Upon a sideboard in the palace, with many 
 another fine old piece of plate, stood the tankard which 
 legend ascribes to Sir Charles Macarthy. Every one 
 knows that he was defeated and lost his head in 1817. 
 The head we did not recover, though we found the 
 great drum on which it had been fixed with those of 
 other luckless heroes ; the tankard I bought. But it 
 proved to be as fragile and holey as interesting, and I 
 got tired of sending it to be repaired. So the venerable 
 object was sold at length, for its weight of silver ; but 
 I kept the lid and the old-fashioned high-shouldered 
 hinge. Mounted on a Doulton jug, this fragmentary 
 relic is much admired as the claret-cup goes round upon 
 an afternoon ; and few seem to question, though they 
 are surprised, that Ashanti artificers should rival 
 Lambeth. 
 
 As these tales are nothing if not gossipy, I may men- 
 tion a few other things bought on that occasiontwo 
 shells of massy gold, weighing near half a pound ; a 
 bracelet of nuggets, strung without fashion on a cord ; 
 an armlet of snowy shell, very singular and beautiful, 
 
218 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 which passed several times round the limb, fastening 
 with golden tags and tassels ; a golden butterfly, more 
 solid but infinitely less elegant than the Fan tees manu- 
 facture ; a bracelet of some hundred little discs, eight- 
 knobbed, strung through the centre. I forget the rest. 
 
 These pretty trifles mounted to a pretty sum, and I 
 surveyed my purchases with rueful admiration. My 
 sympathising hostess observed confidentially : 
 
 " I will give you a hint. Buy some of the royal 
 ornaments." 
 
 "Why?" I exclaimed aghast, " they are selling for 
 their hideous weight in gold." 
 
 u Just so," she answered, " and that is the reason our 
 people cannot purchase. But if you buy, for example, a 
 necklace, all the Aggry beads in it are given you for 
 nothing. Every woman in the town will take as many 
 as she can afford, and you will be left with the gold very 
 considerably beneath mint price. It is buying money 
 cheap." 
 
 Any supercilious pride which accident planted at 
 birth, and Oxford fostered, had been long since knocked 
 out of me. I returned to the sale room, determined to 
 retrieve my extravagance. On the way, I remember 
 well, the " prince " overtook me a young Russian 
 ^dignitary, who arrived too late to see the war, but in 
 time to see the return. What a gorgeous and incredible 
 thing of splendour was he at the review in Windsor 
 
A POPO BEAD. 219 
 
 Great Park ! He also had bought very largely, and he 
 also was rueful. I told him this project to retrieve my 
 modest fortune, and he replied very coldly : 
 
 " Je ne suis pas marchand, monsieur." 
 
 " Et moi, altesse," I answered, "je ne suis pas 
 prince." 
 
 The Russian was less cordial after that, but, undis- 
 mayed, I carried through my little speculation to excel- 
 lent result. 
 
 It doesn't matter what I bought ; indeed, I forget, for 
 
 Mrs. S sold everything again before night, leaving 
 
 me that handsome profit which commonly accrues to the 
 wholesale buyer who sells retail, as I understand. 
 Amongst other things, however, I purchased a bracelet 
 of Popo beads an odd sort of bunchy ornament ; the 
 beads suspended lengthwise, held by a golden button at 
 one aperture. In unstringing them, to secure the gold, 
 I remarked that one had been encircled with a golden 
 band, very neat and ornamental, to prevent a crack 
 extending further. Foreseeing that people in England 
 would not credit the value placed on Aggry and Popo 
 beads, I preserved this bit of evidence ; and I have it 
 now, mounted as a pin. 
 
 Both Aggry and Popo are glass, the former opaque, 
 the latter clear but rough. There are many varieties of 
 Aggry, some more treasured than others ; only one of 
 Popo, I believe. Both are dug from the earth, where 
 
220 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 the corpse with which they were interred is thought to 
 have long since perished, but I am not aware that the 
 circumstances of any such treasure-trove have been 
 recorded by white men. The Aggry is found, as they 
 say, all along the West Coast, far into the interior. The 
 Popo is rare in Ashanti and Fanti-land, becoming more 
 frequent near Lagos. It must not be understood, how- 
 ever, that either sort is common ; quite the reverse, as 
 prices show. Our Birmingham manufacturers, and more 
 especially the Venetian, have been trying these many 
 years to imitate the Aggry bead. To an English eye 
 superficial and untrained their success is perfect, but 
 the youngest negro is not deceived. For all their science 
 and study, for all the wondrous effects of the same kind 
 which they have produced in transparent glass, our 
 people cannot find the secret of running a coloured pat- 
 tern through and through the opaque substance exacted. 
 They can make a fac-simile of the surface, but that is all. 
 The Popo bead, I am informed, has defied all attempts 
 of imitation, but I speak with diffidence. Its peculiarity 
 is that the glass looks blue in light, yellow in shadow. 
 This change puzzles our crafty workmen, who could turn 
 out blue beads or yellow, exactly like it, ten thousand 
 of them, for a less sum than a single tiny cube of the real 
 sort fetches. To conclude this dissertation not unin- 
 teresting, I hope, to any reader, though he be not con- 
 nected with the African trade it may be added that the 
 
A POPO BEAD. 221 
 
 best authorities suppose them both to have been Egyp- 
 tian manufacture ancient Egyptian, that is. Such 
 glass is seldom or never found with mummies in the form 
 of beadsj but small bottles of material very similar are 
 frequent enough. If this be so, it is not surprising that 
 Aggrys and Popos are not discovered in Egyptian tombs. 
 Made for a savage commerce, the civilised manufacturers 
 disdained to use them , and one would only expect to find 
 deposits in the excavation of a merchant's warehouse or 
 of a glass-blower's works. The curious point of the 
 matter is the evidence thus offered of a commerce very 
 much wider than had been credited to Egypt. Chinese 
 and Indian productions have long since been identified 
 in the plunder of her tombs, and it would seem that she 
 dealt, directly or indirectly, with negroid races on the 
 shore of the Atlantic. 
 
 In such trade as that the enterprising pedlar constantly 
 found it judicious to hide his merchandise. In many 
 instances, as common sense suggests and experience 
 proves, he never recovered it. And, when the ancient 
 trader died, his comrades would be sure to bury with 
 him some at least of his valuables. In this way, doubt- 
 less, little stores of beads became distributed about the 
 jungle. But I have mentioned that no white observer 
 has reported the circumstances of a case, so far as I 
 ever heard. 
 
 How and when was my handful of Popo beads dis- 
 
222 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 covered ? I don't know, but I can suggest an explana- 
 tion. 
 
 At a date easily identified, though I forget it, the 
 King of Ashanti resolved to build a palace, the real 
 thing, a house of stone such as Europeans occupied at 
 Cape Coast Castle and elsewhere. Certain obvious diffi- 
 culties challenged his imperial project. Neither archi- 
 tects nor masons were found in the realm, none at least 
 trained to such work as this. If there were stone suit- 
 able nearer than the Adansi hills, it had not been disco- 
 vered, and the sovereign had neither tools nor skill 
 to work it. These circumstances enhanced the royal 
 grandeur of the idea. When the king said : " Raise 
 me a palace ! " there was real merit in obedience. 
 
 Shortly before this time, the Portuguese had resolved 
 to fortify Cormantin, a settlement upon the coast, south 
 of Accra, if I remember rightly. With the magnificent 
 ambition and the patience which distinguished them in 
 that age, they shipped cargoes of hewn stone, and arti- 
 ficers of every kind, gathered I know not whence. The 
 architect commissioned to superintend these works was 
 a young mulatto of Elmina, educated in Europe ; I 
 presume that the coast was not more healthful at that 
 time than now to pure-blooded white men. He reached 
 Cormantin, and began the clearing of the ground, while 
 the vessels were unloading. 
 
 The generals and chiefs of Ashanti, who had it in 
 
A POPO BEAD. 223 
 
 their honourable charge to execute the king's command, 
 watched these doings with keen interest. Their scouts 
 numbered the ships arriving, inventoried the cargo, cal- 
 culated the growing heap of materials and the increas- 
 ing multitude of artisans. In course of time, they re- 
 ported that a mountain of stone lay on the beach, where 
 two hundred skilled labourers and a thousand slaves 
 were encamped under guard of a company of soldiers. 
 Forthwith a picked body of Ashantis crept through the 
 bush, travelling almost singly, giving no alarm, swim- 
 ming rivers, skulking past the villages at night, con- 
 verging from a wide circle. They rendezvoused behind 
 Cormantin, five thousand warriors. And on a morning, 
 as the Portuguese turned out shivering in the misty dawn, 
 wrapped in their blankets and smoking papelitos, the 
 Ashanti yell rang out on every side, and they all were 
 taken prisoners without a shot. 
 
 A large force was waiting on the confines of the 
 royal territory, and swift runners posted along the track 
 bore this news without taking breath. All was ready. 
 The war-drums beat the thigh-bone whistles and the 
 cow-horns decked with skeleton hands called the army 
 to advance. It spread out fan- wise, overrunning all the 
 country, and sweeping the population together *as into a 
 net. By forced marches it advanced, for a Portuguese 
 ship arriving would have endangered all the scheme. 
 But none appeared in time. Reaching the coast with 
 
224 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 many hundred Fanti slaves, it loaded up the building 
 materials; and, before this audacious kidnapping was 
 rumoured at Cape Coast Castle, the Ashantis, their 
 prisoners, and their plunder, had vanished in the silent 
 bush. 
 
 A dreadful journey was that for Manuele and his 
 comrades. Their captors lacked sense to see that the 
 skilled artificers upon whom they were dependent should 
 be treated gently ; or were too brutal to spare them at 
 any risk. Naked as the blacks they struggled on, carry- 
 ing each his block of stone or beam. Several died, and 
 none would have escaped had not the king, impatient, 
 sent down orders that these prisoners should be for- 
 warded at once to discuss preliminary operations with 
 him. So man-carriages were hastily prepared, and on 
 the heads of slaves, in a long procession, they rode 
 into Coomassie. 
 
 Manuele was a bright young fellow who knew his 
 business well, and he had skilful workmen to execute 
 odd jobs. Whilst his majesty consulted and inquired 
 about the palace, his prisoners turned out a set of fur- 
 niture such as Ashanti had never seen. Then they 
 built an ornamental kiosk for the favourite wife, re- 
 paired all the knick-knacks European monarchs had 
 sent to their black brother, made a score of wonderful 
 things ; so that they stood very high indeed in the 
 royal favour, whilst the caravan of stone was toiling 
 
A POPO BEAD. 225 
 
 through the forest, leaving a trail of human bodies and 
 abandoned yokes but never an abandoned load. 
 
 The question of the site was grave. Manuele wished 
 to build upon the market-place, a smooth and gravelly 
 slope ; but the king rejected this idea with warmth. 
 His councillors looked askance at the rash projector. 
 Not where the great founder of the monarchy had sat 
 houseless under a tree Coomassie means " under the 
 tree " where the earth is too holy to be robbed of any- 
 thing that falls on it ; not there should a miserable 
 stranger be suffered to dig and desecrate. His majesty 
 chose the bottom of the slope, ground muddy and un- 
 staple, at that time occupied by the densest bush. It 
 was necessary first to drain it, and upon this task 
 Manuele set the innumerable slaves provided for him. 
 
 Meanwhile preparations advanced for that bloody rite 
 which should protect the building from assaults of evil 
 genii. The king ordered a foray into Denkera, and all 
 the chiefs summoned paraded their retainers, who danced 
 before the monarch and set out. Five months they 
 were gone; Manuele had just completed his drainage 
 system at their return. As is usual, the king received 
 his victorious army on the market-square. Twelve tent- 
 like umbrellas were planted, in due order of precedence, 
 for the twelve grand caboceers ; that of royalty velvet, 
 silk, and gold in front of all. The family totem of each 
 great chief was represented in solid gold on the apex of 
 
 Q 
 
226 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 his umbrella. A fine procession it was that left the 
 temporary palace to occupy the square. Great officers 
 of state went first, clad in silk, stooping under the weight 
 of golden ornaments, or supported by slave-pages, one 
 on either side gripping their lord beneath his shoulders, 
 one carrying each outstretched arm. All were followed 
 and preceded by their state domestics, in charge of stool, 
 gun, pipe, spittoon, calabash, toddy -jar, and what not, 
 all decorated with gold. In tumultuous array they 
 pressed through thronging ranks of the populace, who 
 applauded their favourites, jeered their butts, and 
 shouted uproarious comment, as a free-born martial 
 people have been used to do in every age and every 
 clime. 
 
 The king himself was preceded by his chief execu- 
 tioner, bearing the sword and belt of office ; the former 
 a useless cumbersome blade, set in a block of gold, with 
 four legs, as it were. We took several of these odd 
 objects. A crowd of aides and tormentors, less fantas- 
 tically armed, marched about him. The royal heralds 
 followed, carrying a long staff, and a plaque of gold 
 upon their chests. After them rode the king, in a man- 
 carriage, fitted with gold and silver, covered with a 
 leopard-skin, shaded by silken awnings upon golden 
 stanchions. A hundred of his favourite wives noisily 
 advanced around him. Behind came inferior personages, 
 honoured with the invitation to take refuge under the 
 
A POPO BEAD. 227 
 
 royal umbrella. Manuele had his place among them. 
 Men whirling guns, painted scarlet, decked with leopard- 
 skin and fluttering bits of scarlet cloth, scurried up and 
 down along the outskirts of the cavalcade. 
 
 When the king was seated in his chair, beneath his 
 huge umbrella, a hoarse wailing blast of cow-horns 
 unounced that happy incident. The troops lay waiting 
 behind a screen of lofty reeds, echelloned along that 
 dreadful ditch where bodies of headless victims lie piled 
 one on another ; has any one of us, who had nerve to 
 approach that spot, beheld a sight like the ghastly spec- 
 tacle displayed there ? Dancing and curveting the head- 
 chiefs sallied out, performing again in mimicry the feats 
 of valour which had, or claimed to have, distinguished 
 each of them in the past campaign. The people roared 
 approval or derision, the great caboceers looked critically 
 on, the king sat mute as an image, stretching his hand 
 from time to time for the golden cup which a kneeling 
 slave-girl kept a-brim with toddy. Then the bones of 
 dead chiefs were paraded, each mass in its own square 
 box, carried on the head of a favourite slave, to be im- 
 molated on the tomb at nightfall. Another series of 
 dancers followed, nobly-born young men, recommended 
 for gallantry. The plunder next, a poor and miscel- 
 laneous assortment, for Denkera had been swept bare 
 again and yet again ; had the expedition sought booty 
 it would have taken another road. Spoils more valuable 
 
 Q2 
 
228 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 followed, hundreds of wretched slaves, many wounded, 
 or dying of disease and privation ; to be sacrificed at 
 the next " Customs," or to wear out life till the execu- 
 tioner should catch and mark them for his own. 
 
 Then came the real trophies of the foray, two or three 
 hundred maidens of marriageable years, whose blood 
 should be poured on the foundations of the palace, whose 
 unsullied spirits should watch over it for ever. They 
 had been well kept and well fed on the march. Those 
 whose clothing had suffered were neatly redressed ; 
 their wool had been combed and decked with flowers ; 
 they had been made as pretty as nature would allow. 
 Pretty many of them were in truth, with that smooth, 
 round, large-eyed comeliness, not by any means un- 
 frequent on the coast, and more general as one advances 
 up the country, where pure negro blood has less and 
 less disfigured the negroid. 
 
 Each step carried these poor creatures nearer to their 
 doom, but they gazed idly about them, like stupid girls 
 at a show. Manuele thought they had been drugged, 
 and it is possible. Half had gone by when he suddenly 
 perceived a face among the listless ranks that startled 
 him. The features were swollen and dabbled with cry- 
 ing, but no tears flowed now. The eyes, distraught with 
 terror, had no vision. Comrades on either hand sup 
 ported her, swaying and stumbling. 
 
 As this wretched young victim passed the royal stand, 
 
A POPO BEAD. 229 
 
 she looked up suddenly, and caught Manuele's pitying 
 gaze. That broke the spell. She screamed, struggled, 
 crying in some unknown tongue that needed no inter- 
 preter, for life. Men closed round, the clamour ceased ; 
 Manuele dropped his eyes, shuddering. What could he 
 clo ? The army marched by, amidst shouts of admira- 
 tion and welcome. But he saw no more. That face 
 haunted him. 
 
 The girl-prisoners were lodged within the precincts of 
 the palace. No man might enter their stockade unless 
 privileged, but Manuele now came and went as he 
 pleased among the royal buildings. For many days he 
 resisted the temptation to look on that poor child again, 
 busying himself with work, but the faster his prepara- 
 tions advanced the nearer approached her doom. Time 
 went on, the foundations were nearly dug. He yielded 
 to a morbid craving, and entered the stockade. 
 
 In sun and shadow all about the space they were 
 sitting, dumb, stupefied. Manuele recognised the girl 
 he sought, crouched upon the earth, a bronze statue of 
 despair. Her well-shaped features, not distorted now 
 but vacant, her light skin, told of a home far off in the 
 interior, whence she had passed from hand to hand of 
 the slave-merchants, with many a thousand more. The 
 small rosettes burnt lightly on her delicate young bosom 
 and shoulder-blades revealed her tribe, could Manuele 
 have recognised the mark She did not see him, and he 
 
230 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 left the dreary prison filled with yearning sympathy. 
 Wild schemes of rescue crossed the good young fellow's 
 mind, but he had not courage for a desperate deed, and 
 desperate to madness that attempt had been. 
 
 But to delay the tragedy was not difficult. In solemn 
 and mysterious tones Manuele informed the king that the 
 last spades-full of earth must be removed by himself 
 alone. His majesty was pleased with this proof of loyal 
 thoughtfulness, and condescended to declare that he 
 would observe the proceedings. But time passed, bring- 
 ing neither incident nor hope. The day could not 
 longer be postponed, and with a heavy heart Manuele 
 invited the king to assist. At dawn his majesty turned 
 out, with his early jar of toddy, his pipe, and a few 
 wives. The royal party took their station on the pit's 
 edge ; slowly and seriously Manuele pressed his spade 
 into the ground, raised it full, and discharged the earth 
 into a bucket. Thereupon the ladies up above uttered 
 a simultaneous cry, leaped down with fluttering robes 
 and waving arms, upset him over the bucket, pulled at 
 him, pushed him, jerked him hither and thither, scream- 
 ing, laughing, quarreling, jabbering. Manuele, panic- 
 stricken, was rolled most uncomfortably in a bed of soft 
 warm flesh. But in an instant their royal lord, waking 
 from a spell of stupefaction, dropped like an aerolith 
 amongst them. The early jar was yet untouched, the 
 regal mind was clear, his limbs comparatively all his 
 
A POPO BEAD. 231 
 
 own. Howling and yelping those forward dames escaped, 
 this with a damaged nose, that limping from a master 
 kick, the other with a bald place on her scalp, and all 
 wofully dishevelled. 
 
 " Let no one approach ! " cried the king, and with 
 his own royal hands he scratched among the earth, 
 bringing to light a mass of Popo beads. 
 
 " Dig, dig ! " he roared, wiping them with his robe; 
 and Manuele dug. Beads turned up with every shovel- 
 ful of soil, Popos and Aggrys of all colours. His 
 majesty laughed and grabbed and wiped, and laughed 
 again, finally he danced ! Upon this stupendous phe- 
 nomenon the pages fled, screaming for the royal heralds. 
 These turned out, received the news, and bore it, gal- 
 loping, to every quarter of the capital. Their official 
 clappers toiled behind, finding not a moment's pause of 
 silence to ring a concerto on their instruments. And 
 forthwith all the population set off running. Those 
 caboceers who had the entree dashed through the gates, 
 flying to assist at this glorious occasion. The royal 
 wives charged down from their quarter many hundreds 
 strong, crashed against the barrier in a phalanx so com- 
 pact that it gave way ; and all the loyal populace burst 
 headlong through the gap. So, in a mass tumultuous 
 and ecstatic, all the king's loving subjects poured to 
 the blessed spot. But before they arrived his majesty 
 had stopped dancing. 
 
322 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 Many readers may imagine that the traveller's pen 
 has bolted with him here that an incident so absurd 
 as this is not possible outside the walls of a theatre at 
 Christmas-time. But I do not go beyond the actual 
 truth of fact. 
 
 Few caboceers had beheld the auspicious event, for 
 supreme happiness and fortune are rarely bestowed on 
 man. The king, quite breathless, climbed out of the 
 hole and addressed Manuele. 
 
 "Your devotion is rewarded!" said he. "I name 
 you caboceer of the first class ! I give you a thousand 
 slaves, a thousand ounces of gold, fifty women out 
 of my royal household! Before nightfall your lands 
 shall be apportioned. And I grant whateve you rask 
 now!" 
 
 Manuele tore off his shirt, baring his shoulders to the 
 waist, and fell prostrate. 
 
 " I had sworn the Powers by your majesty's strong 
 name," he said; "they obeyed. To you the glory, 
 king ! I am a slave ! I ask one of the girls captured in 
 Denkera." 
 
 " She is yours. Gather the beads and bring them 
 in." 
 
 Manuele never recovered freedom, but he lived in 
 great honour and renown at Coomassie; and his de- 
 scendants by the Denkera slave are still reckoned 
 amongst the foremost of Ashanti caboceers. I should 
 
A POPO BEAD. 233 
 
 like to add that all the other girls were spared, but I 
 have no evidence to that effect one must not ask too 
 much of a Gold Coast mulatto. He built the palace, 
 and a surprising structure it was before we blew it 
 up. 
 
234 
 
 A SAPPHIRE. 
 
 IN travelling through the realm of Barbaric, one 
 picks up many precious stones, literally and metaphori- 
 cally. I should not value the companionship of a man 
 who did not like to see and handle and own jewels. He 
 must needs be a creature without fancy, excellent maybe 
 in all prosaic capacities, of thorough business habits, a 
 zealous churchwarden, an efficient chairman of the local 
 board. But, if gems have no fascination for him, I should 
 not care to travel in his company, or long to sit beside 
 him at dinner. Observe that I do not speak of wearing 
 jewellery j but of owning and admiring jewels. That 
 attraction is strong on myself and on all persons for 
 whose brain and heart combined I have respect. He 
 who loved the Arabian Nights when young, and all 
 the dainty records of fairyland, imbibed a glamour 
 which never wears away. Curious it is, when one 
 thinks of it, that gems had such an insignificant part 
 in the mythology of Greece. 
 
 At different times of my life, returning from one 
 
A SAPPHIRE. 235 
 
 country or another, I have owned not for long a 
 pretty little heap of pearls, emeralds, and diamonds. 
 At present, I think, my only treasure of this sort is a 
 small handful of turquoises, brought from Candahar, of 
 trifling value. I purchased them in the bazaar, the 
 largest on that fatal afternoon when poor Willis was 
 murdered. I was counting out the money when a 
 sowar hurried by, shouting to us how the Sahib Log 
 were standing back to back down the street, fighting for 
 their lives. What a fierce push that was through the 
 hustling crowd, as we forced a way to them ! There 
 were eight of us Capt. Molloy, Dr. Finden, Lieut. 
 Norman Stewart, and four others whom I forget. But 
 this is a digression. 
 
 I own a sapphire, a very handsome stone, to which I 
 have clung like an Englishman, " in spite of all temp- 
 tation/' for twenty years. I bought it in Cairo, at 
 Shepheard's Hotel the old, historic, uncomfortable cara- 
 vanserai, which was burnt down, was it not? which, at 
 least, exists no more. The vendor was a young fellow- 
 countryman, just returned from the Nile voyage. At 
 that time it was roughly smoothed and polished in the 
 native manner, which exposed not a quarter of its 
 beauties. I recollect very well that I gave him nine 
 pounds for it, but since the gem has been twice re-cut 
 it is worth several times that figure, I believe. This 
 young traveller gave me a story with it, which has 
 
236 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 almost slipped my memory. In those happy times I 
 did not own a note-book, and it would be impossible to 
 say how much of the following narrative is his, and how 
 much my own imagination has unconsciously added. I 
 have put the legend into the first person for convenience 
 sake; you may suppose it a story told by one boy to 
 another in the verandah of Shepheard's Hotel, when the 
 golden sunset is fading duskily over the Ezbekieh, and 
 the tinsel lights of the cafes are beginning to gleam 
 under the acacias.* 
 
 We lay one evening off a town which was either 
 Manfaloot or Osioot, I am not sure. There were white 
 walls about it, which descended almost to the river- 
 bank, with domes above them rosy in the declining sun, 
 and dark-green palm-trees, fretted with gold along the 
 edges of their leaves. Francisco, our dragoman, did his 
 best to dissuade me from landing, as was the habit of 
 that worthy man. He insisted on the danger, real 
 enough, you know this was in 1863 of being belated 
 in the narrow unlit streets, where nothing stirred after 
 sunset but dogs and robbers and outcasts. But I longed 
 to stretch my legs on shore, and the mosques seemed 
 rather handsome. So a guide was sought, and presently 
 
 * I have seen Cairo once more since this was written. If 
 a reader be puzzled to understand from what point of view 
 one could see those "tinsel lights " under the circumstances 
 suggested, he cannot be more at a loss than I was. 
 
A SAPPHIRE. 237 
 
 appeared an ugly, dirty old Copt, arrayed in a night- 
 gown and a blue and scarlet turban. Of all beards that 
 ever grew on human chin, this fellow had the longest 
 and filthiest; a mat it was, an unnatural growth. And 
 he had only one eye. 
 
 Led by the guide, who spoke a few words of English, 
 I strolled through the empty bazaars, fought some lively 
 skirmishes with dogs, saw the outside of a mosque or 
 two, and visited a coffee-shop, where the faithful eyed 
 me silently askance. Whilst drinking the blessed pre 
 paration which I thought mud, though I pretended to 
 like it for " form's " sake, night settled down, and the 
 Copt became uneasy. He led me back by another route, 
 an alley dark as a coalmine, under a lofty wall ; pre- 
 ferring that way, he said, " because dogs bite," a reason 
 vague, but intelligible on reflection. 1 learned that the 
 high wall on our left was that of the pasha's grounds. 
 The one-eyed calender informed me that he could get 
 permission to visit them next day, for a baksheesh of two 
 liras. Thirty-six shillings seemed too much to pay for 
 a stroll through a burnt-up garden, but my crafty Copt 
 assured me that the ladies of the pasha's harem were 
 occasionally espied therein. Of course he told a false- 
 hood, and I knew it, but who would not catch at the 
 off-chance, when twenty-one years old ? 
 
 Suddenly, as we stumbled on, for we carried no 
 lantern, my way was blocked by a human form, which 
 
238 ON THE BOUDEULAND. 
 
 met me breast to breast. I cried humorously, like trie 
 donkey-boys : " Riglak, Effendi ! Shumalek, oh Sheikh !" 
 and tried to pass. But a sharp word of command, the 
 thud and rattle of arms grounded, brought me to halt. 
 Half-a-dozen lanterns flashed out suddenly, and I saw 
 the narrow passage full of troops. It was the patrol, 
 and I stood face to face with the officer, a fair-haired 
 man, very soldierly in his blue tunic and silver lace. 
 By the lantern his orderly displayed he looked me over, 
 smiled, and glanced beyond. The Copt shrank back, 
 whilst the officer passed me with an unfinished salute, 
 and spoke with him a moment. One seemed eager, the 
 other embarrassed. After a few low words, the young 
 Turk seized my follower by his most venerable beard, 
 drew that ancient countenance to his, and how shall I 
 put it? He treated my Copt as Antonio treated the 
 Jew. 
 
 The action was so insolently droll that I laughed out. 
 Without apology, I snatched the lantern, lighted a cigar 
 thereat, and turned. At a word from the officer his 
 men fell back, saluted, and we passed through. The 
 Copt offered no explanation of this incident. In answer 
 to my questions he muttered that Turks are very cruel 
 and hard upon his nation. Next morning the wind was 
 fair. 
 
 Several weeks afterwards, halting at the same town, I 
 remembered the pasha's garden, and the marvels to be 
 
A SAPPHIRE. 239 
 
 seen therein. My former guide arrived, but he did not 
 show so much confidence about obtaining a permit. 
 Some scandals had been discovered, he hinted, or were 
 suspected, at the Konak. What scandals ? I asked, but 
 the Copt did not know. He was a poor man, and with 
 the effendi's permission he would now retire, to see what 
 could be arranged. At night-time, whilst I supped 
 upon the poop, a small procession of lantern-bearers 
 issued from the narrow street and halted. My drago- 
 man presently informed me that the Kisla Aga, or some 
 such personage, desired a few moments' converse. I 
 had no objection, but it presently appeared that the 
 insolent eunuch expected me to attend on him. Taking 
 a bottle by the neck, I peered over the rail, and distin- 
 guished the creature amidst his slaves below. 
 
 " If the Kislar Aga does not come on board within 
 three minutes," I cried, " I will throw this bottle at his 
 head." 
 
 Heaven knows what message Francisco delivered, but 
 within the time I saw before me a tall, lean, wrinkled 
 being, with the face of a peevish old woman who gives 
 herself airs. His flowing dress was handsome, he wore 
 jewels on every finger, and conspicuous in his turban 
 was the peculiar sign, less of office than of degradation. 
 I took his offered hand with repugnance poor wretch ! 
 Francisco translated. 
 
 " His lordship the pasha sends compliments. If you 
 
240 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 wish to see the harem gardens, you must be at the gate 
 by sunrise." And forthwith the Kislar Aga departed. 
 
 " What did he come for?" I asked of Francisco. 
 
 " To see if all was square, sir. There's been some- 
 thing wrong in the harem. I have agreed to pay one 
 lira for baksheesh." The Copt had asked two. 
 
 Next morning I was punctual. A guard of Nubian 
 soldiers stood at the Konak Gate, and presented arms. 
 We traversed a dingy courtyard, full of ragged suitors, 
 passed through a small door at the corner, and entered 
 the gardens under charge of two or three eunuchs. 
 There was little to see, of course. Flowers grew in a 
 tangle where shallow ditches moistened the earth. The 
 space was mostly occupied by shrubberies and thickets, 
 intersected by winding walks. Here and there stood a 
 statue of surprising deformity. The art of childhood, 
 displayed upon a turnip with a dinner-knife, comes 
 nearest to the style of thing set out here for the ladies' 
 delectation. I have laughed at the figures in the 
 Winter Garden of St. Petersburg, but they do not bear 
 comparison. Through the midst of the grounds ran a 
 turbid canal, shaded by fine trees and clumps of bamboo. 
 It widened at the centre to a pool, embanked with 
 marble, chipped and stained. Steps led down to the 
 water. In the middle of the tank rose a wooden kiosk, 
 gaily painted: but its shutters were closed, and the 
 bridge leading to it had locked gates. Some windows 
 
A SAPPHIRE. 241 
 
 on the ground-floor of the palace stood open. I saw 
 rooms sparsely but handsomely furnished, in satin 
 and gold embroidery. Glass chandeliers hung from the 
 ceiling, and the walls were lined with mirrors. Those 
 windows had been opened to impress me with a glimpse 
 of the magnificence within, but I knew very well that 
 this luxury was atoned by sordid wretchedness in the 
 apartments not displayed. The ladies were invisible, of 
 course. 
 
 Not disappointed for I had expected little I 
 returned, after leaving a card and a courteous acknow- 
 ledgment for the pasha. Reaching the dabeah, I found 
 upon my table a small iron box, and summoned Fran- 
 cisco to explain. But a slender handsome man in 
 Turkish uniform appeared from the inner cabin, and 
 said earnestly, in perfect French : 
 
 "I put myself under your protection, sir! If you 
 dare venture to help a man in desperate straits, I 
 implore you to hoist sail." 
 
 In astonishment and delight I gave the order, and 
 my men, fortunately, were all aboard. A few minutes 
 afterwards we were scudding briskly down the river, 
 and I returned to the saloon. 
 
 " The pasha has a steamboat," I said, "and the tele- 
 graph." 
 
 " There is a chance that he may not pursue me, and 
 life is worth a struggle. What have I not gone through 
 
 R 
 
242 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 in these last hours ! Your crimson flag to me was like 
 a thread of sunshine in a black sky." 
 
 "But at Cairo," I observed, " you will certainly be 
 taken." 
 
 " No. My papers are all in order. Besides, once 
 we reach Cairo, if I demanded the pasha's head it 
 would be served me. You have asked no questions 
 before extending your kindness to a poor soldier, but I 
 will tell you the story as soon as I have swallowed my 
 heart, which sticks in my throat at present." 
 
 All day and all that night my guest sat on the poop, 
 watching the rapid river and the mud-built villages. 
 Instead of anchoring at dusk, we kept on, urging the 
 crew with a promise of baksheesh. When the forenoon 
 following passed without alarm, my protege recovered 
 heart. He broke into snatches of song, slapped the 
 one-eyed reis upon the back all reises, and most other 
 Egyptians, are one-eyed and convulsed my futile valet 
 with unintelligible jests. A being less Turkish in his 
 ways could not be imagined, and I asked his nation. 
 
 " I am a Genoese," he said, laughing and colouring ; 
 " but call me Yusoof Agha. 
 
 " Have we not met before ? " 
 
 " I thought you would not recognise me. Yes, I 
 have to apologise for my treatment of your guide, but 
 you do not know what a villain he is. After dinner, 
 if you like, I will tell you why I am escaping." 
 
A SAPPHIRE. 243 
 
 He did so, with many reservations, doubtless. I 
 never learnt how Yusoof came to embrace Islam, nor 
 anything about him, excepting this adventure. It may 
 be confessed that his manner of telling it did not lead 
 me to take an absorbing interest in his history; but I 
 should like now to hear the beginning and the end of 
 this renegade. 
 
 " You cannot fancy," he began, " the monotonous 
 misery of life in these Nile towns. There is nothing 
 for the virtuous man to do save pray and smoke and 
 pray again, and foretell the re-conquest of the world by 
 Islam. I am a good Mussulman" here he winked and 
 laughed "but I had not the fortune to be bred to 
 these delights, and they pall. Before I had been a 
 week in yonder garrison I wanted to die oh, seriously ! 
 But one nail drives out another, and before I was quite 
 bored to death I found amusement. 
 
 " Two or three days running, wherever I went in the 
 afternoon, I met a certain negress. One knows that 
 sort of thing, arid, as soon I was sure, I gave her an 
 opportunity to speak. 
 
 " * Effendi.' she said, * a beautiful lady has seen you, 
 and her soul is melting like wax,' &c. you know. 
 
 " I expressed polite regrets to hear of this disaster, 
 and asked if the lady was married. No ; her young 
 charms were like those of the plane-tree. And so on. 
 I recalled as much poetry suited to the occasion as my 
 
 R2 
 
244 ON THE BORDERLAND, 
 
 studies could supply at a moment's notice, and hoped 
 to hear again when convenient. But before retiring 
 my black Hebe produced a little gage d'amour, which 
 would have warmed a cooler fellow than I am. 
 
 " * Allah ! ' I exclaimed, * it is no kefaji's daughter 
 who sends a present like that ! Who is your mistress ?' 
 
 " The slave drew herself away saucily. 
 
 " * She will tell you when she thinks proper, I sup- 
 pose.' 
 
 " I might have waited ; but it is always well to know 
 beforehand with whom one sits down to a game. Very 
 few unmarried girls in a place like that could spare such 
 jewels. But it is dangerous, as you know, to ask ques- 
 tions bearing in the most remote degree upon the woman- 
 kind of a family. At length I remembered your Copt, 
 who, let me tell you, is as vile a wretch as could be found 
 in Egypt. He pretends to live by acting as guide, but 
 his real pursuits are vastly more lucrative. The most 
 honest of them is to sell antique gems, which he imports 
 from Paris, and not the most abominable is to trade in 
 secrets. The poorest fallaheen all stand in his debt, and 
 he crushes them betwixt the upper and the nether mill- 
 s tone. But I did not know him then. 
 
 " This rascal was delighted to give me details about 
 every family in the town. There was more than a chance 
 that something in his way would come of it. The know- 
 ledge that my bonne fortune was unmarried simplified 
 
A SAPPHIRE. 245 
 
 the inquiry. I found that she could only be a daughter 
 of the pasha. He had two of marriageable years : the 
 elder affianced to my colonel, the other, Nuzleh, still 
 unattached. The Copt knew all about them, their 
 appearance, character, and tastes. Both, he said, were 
 very handsome, but the elder was bold and self-reliant, 
 whilst Nuzleh had a timid disposition, very rare amongst 
 Moslem women. 
 
 " Of course I had made no confidences ; but the 
 wretch hinted strongly that if either of the girls had 
 communicated with me it was certainly the former. 
 Eefusing the fellow's services, I paid him and went 
 away. 
 
 " A day or two afterwards the slave carried me another 
 message. Her mistress would visit a stall in the bazaar 
 at a certain time, and she begged me to be about the 
 spot. I obeyed one must lend oneself to these tom- 
 fooleries. The lady was punctual, of course, and I had 
 no trouble in recognising her amongst the others. If 
 this poor head of mine were capable of forming a prudent 
 resolution and sticking to it, I should have broken off 
 the adventure there and then. For she never took 
 her eyes from me until I fled in alarm. They were 
 beautiful eyes ! Next day, as I stood thinking of them 
 amongst other matters, ma foi ! under the palace- 
 walls, a flower dropped upon me from above. No one 
 was by. I let my gauntlet fall and picked it up. Gen- 
 
246 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 tilesse oblige ! But I prayed Allah to grant my beauty 
 some slight gift of caution, since my own share is 
 limited. And meantime I did not lounge beneath the 
 palace- wall again. 
 
 " Some hours after the negress handed me a note. I 
 could not read one half of it, and she could not help me. 
 I swore the Copt to secrecy by all the gods who ever 
 ruled in Egypt, and he deciphered it. The letter con- 
 tained only verses and girlish nonsense. I got a poetry- 
 book and wrote the reply; but when the messenger 
 came for it she brought another, just a second edition, 
 but in clearer writing. So things went on for several 
 weeks. I was not so impatient as you would suppose, for 
 with every other letter came a jewel. But things could 
 not remain at this point. Making love by correspond- 
 ence, at the risk of your neck, is a fashion out of date. 
 The negress saw matters with my eyes, for she ran 
 almost as great danger carrying these harmless notes as 
 introducing me into the konak. But Nuzleh did not 
 even think of a pleasure greater than writing verses. 
 She was rather compelled than persuaded to let the slave 
 tell her name. To my suggestions for an interview the 
 silly child made no reply at all, but transmitted me her 
 evening dreams and morning raptures, her impressions 
 at noon and her visions at midnight, with an obstinate 
 volubility which would have been droll had it not been 
 so dangerous. I began to be bored. The volumes of 
 
A SAPPHIRE. 247 
 
 poetry which I could borrow were nearly all used up in 
 our correspondence. So I wrote in plain prose that a 
 man gets tired of making love to an abstraction ; that I 
 would receive no more letters until I had seen her. For 
 a whole week there was silence, and I kept on my guard, 
 for female pique runs naturally to daggers and poisons. 
 Then came the answer. Amidst reams of poetry I 
 learned that if I was so cruel she would obey, but how 
 the meeting could be brought about her innocent mind 
 was incapable of devising." 
 
 The autobiographical form is wearisome; having 
 shown my guest's cynical manner of telling his story, 
 I will drop it. 
 
 The maid proved to be as uningenious as the mistress. 
 It is generally supposed that for cases of this sort women 
 have more wit and courage than their lovers, but it. was 
 not so here. If they tried, they did not succeed in 
 devising a plan for the interview, and Yusoof, of course* 
 was absolutely unacquainted with the premises and the 
 habits of the harem. For the pasha, so liberal to 
 foreigners who would gratefully report of him at Cairo 
 suffered no native to enter his gardens. Once more 
 Yusoof resolved to let the matter drop, but those com- 
 promising letters still arrived, and he had no lover-like 
 pretext for stopping them. The pasha's daughter could 
 be terribly mischievous if she liked, without resort to 
 violence. At his wit's end, Yusoof applied to the Copt, 
 
248 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 keeping back only the lady's name. That useful being 
 saw no difficulty at all. The uncharitable might suppose 
 that he had often answered a similar inquiry ; the pasha 
 had many wives and slaves. 
 
 " Can you swim? " said he. 
 
 ' Like a fish." 
 
 "Underwater?" 
 
 " Like a moor-hen ! " 
 
 Thereupon the Copt revealed that no sentries guarded 
 the canal ; that the eunuchs' patrol was a mere ceremony. 
 If the lady did her part with discretion, the lover risked 
 nothing besides a midnight bath. Suspicious of every- 
 one at Cairo, the pasha thought himself in safety here. 
 Yusoof did not by any means regret the absence of 
 danger. He told his plan and received the lady's trem- 
 bling assent. Only, the meeting could not take place in 
 her apartment, where a nurse but too faithful attended 
 day and night. Consulted once more, the Coptic Sir 
 Pandarus was ready. He named the kiosk in the tank, 
 which always stood unlocked, saving those rare occasions 
 when the garden was visited by foreigners. 
 
 On the first moonless night, Yusoof gained the bank 
 of the canal, dived noiselessly beneath the arch, and 
 swam under water as far as he was able. Kising to 
 breathe where the shadows lay blackest, in two or three 
 long stretches he reached the pool. Here, to gain the 
 most sheltered place for landing, it was necessary to pass 
 
A SAPPHIRE. 249 
 
 half-round the island, a fatiguing effort. He landed at 
 the further steps, and looked round cautiously. No light 
 glimmered through the shutters of the kiosk, no one 
 moved within. But the windows of the palace were all 
 illuminated, throwing a perilous glare between the trees. 
 Perplexed, angry, and alarmed, Yusoof made up his 
 mind to return, when a figure suddenly appearing on 
 the bridge struck him motionless with fear. It stopped 
 a few paces from him, and whispered, in tones quivering 
 with fright: 
 
 " Are you there?" 
 
 Yusoof recognised the negress, and approached her 
 cautiously. She opened a door. It was pitch-dark 
 inside. 
 
 " Where is the Lady Nuzluh ?" asked Yusoof, halting. 
 
 " There, there ! For goodness sake, go in !" 
 
 Thus encouraged, the lover poured forth to his in- 
 visible divinity the rapturous salutation which he had 
 composed for this event. For European critics the effect 
 would have been most seriously injured by a sneeze, but 
 they hold other opinions on this score in the East. The 
 lady revealed her presence by a sweetly murmured, 
 
 "Allah make it good to you!" but her politeness 
 ended in a sob. 
 
 The meeting seems to have been vastly droll in 
 Yusoof's opinion. Shivering in wet clothes, he played 
 the castanet between each word of his tender protesta- 
 
250 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 tions. The fair one's answers were unintelligible, and 
 her stalwart negress, holding the lover by his hand, 
 forbade him to approach. Not ten minutes the inter- 
 view lasted, and Yusoof vowed betwixt oaths and 
 laughter, as he noiselessly slipped into the pool, that 
 such a stupid entertainment was not worth a cold in the 
 head, much more a life. 
 
 For several weeks the memory of this ridiculous 
 adventure made him deaf to all advances. Fools and 
 children, he told the slave, ought not to play at intrigue, 
 which is an amusement for grown persons. Then it was 
 rumoured through the town that there was sickness in 
 the konak, and presently an old woman visited the 
 captain's quarters. She brought a message of such 
 blind, self-sacrificing love as touched me when I heard 
 even Yusoof's careless rendering. Nuzleh had taken 
 her old nurse into confidence, and she, poor creature, 
 fearing lest the child should die, consented to every- 
 thing. Yusoof's resolution failed, and his visits were 
 many. 
 
 You think that the tragedy is coming now, but it was 
 still deferred. The weeks passed by, and Nuzleh's elder 
 sister was to be married to the colonel. His officers 
 prepared the customary presents. Yusoof, deeply in 
 debt to the money-lenders of Cairo, and to any one who 
 would accommodate him, could only raise the needful 
 cash by selling some jewel which Nuzleh had given him . 
 
A SAPPHIRE. 251 
 
 Upon the day when I arrived he took it to the Copt, 
 who, in the afternoon, left at the barracks an amount 
 representing one-twentieth of its value, or thereabouts. 
 You will remember that we met beneath the konak 
 wall. Yusoof charged the Copt with his trickery, and 
 was told that if he did not like the price the colonel 
 would give more, no doubt, to recover his bride's ring 
 for he supposed her the guilty sister. The incident 
 that followed I have told. The Copt sought no ven- 
 geance at this time. 
 
 The colonel was married, and gossips began to whisper 
 of a match far more grand for Nuzleh. Messengers 
 passed to and from Cairo, until, at length, it was offi- 
 cially made known that a prince of the blood had asked 
 the pasha's youngest daughter. Women have no small 
 voice in their own affairs out yonder; and, in a common 
 case, Nuzleh's objections would have been seriously 
 entertained. But this alliance was too honourable to be 
 delayed for a young girl's fancy. Her vehement protest 
 caused suspicion, but the preparations went on. 
 
 During the night before my second visit, an inevitable 
 discovery was made. The ladies of the harem opened 
 Nuzleh's jewel-box, to see what parures she needed for 
 her grand trousseau; and they found it empty. What 
 followed nobody can tell. Before sunrise, a letter with 
 a stone attached fell on Yusoof 's bed, and told him in 
 one word to fly. He rose instantly, packed his valu- 
 
252 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 ables in a box which he hid beneath his cloak, and 
 escaped to my dabeah by the least frequented ways. 
 And on his road he met the Copt, also avoiding observa- 
 tion. He was robed in his best, and his face was set 
 towards the konak. Yusoof guessed his errand. Some- 
 thing had reached the usurer's ears, and he was hastening 
 to sell his knowledge. Had Yusoof doubted, the old 
 man's conduct would have betrayed him. He fell upon 
 his knees, and my protege, with great presence of mind, 
 as he expressed it, slung the heavy box, and crashed it 
 on his skull. Leaving the body there, he gained my 
 boat without encountering a soul. 
 
 We reached Cairo safely, and I bade adieu to my 
 passenger without reluctance. Two days afterwards he 
 called, no longer Yusoof Agha, but Yusoof Bey. What- 
 ever the offence which caused his banishment, it was 
 forgiven. He gave me this sapphire ; I suppose it 
 belonged to that poor girl. 
 
 A few days after the newspapers announced her 
 arrival. She came with her father and a big retinue, 
 to be married to the prince. The ceremonies in such a 
 case are long, but they came to a sad termination. 
 Nuzleh died, how, under what circumstances, no one 
 can tell. Many rumours flew about. 
 
 Yusoof Bey is one of the pasha's equerries (1863). 
 
253 
 
 A WOMAN'S KNIFE. 
 
 FROM time to time, for a dozen years past, I have 
 made a desultory hunt for this souvenir, of my Bornean 
 travels. Upon such occasions I nearly always found 
 some forgotten object which distracted me; but the 
 knife, so well remembered, would not appear. Its haft 
 was a slender rod of ebony, curved back to fit the 
 bended wrist, as is the lazy, graceful fashion of hand- 
 tools in the East. The length was six inches, and five 
 silver bands encircled the polished wood, which at either 
 ond was fitted with a socket of repousse work in silver. 
 The blade, two inches long, broad at the base, tapered 
 sharply to a needle-point ; the cross -markings discernible 
 at the wider end showed it had been hammered from a 
 fragment of English file. The exportation of such in- 
 struments from Sheffield must have roused curiosity 
 sometimes amongst our more thoughtful manufacturers, 
 for it is greater by a thousand-fold than would be re- 
 quired for the legitimate uses to which a file is put. 
 The fact is that people in that stage of barbarism where 
 
254 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 a man's life daily hangs upon the excellence of his 
 weapon entertain a wise contempt for our swords and 
 knives. They buy them as tools, cheap, if not lasting 
 They buy them also as " material " partly finished, to 
 be re-manufactured. But files are the only steel goods 
 which they work up directly, and the only iron goods 
 are the ribands of metal which surround bales of cloth. 
 But this is a digression that would lead me into a dis- 
 course on the hardware trade. 
 
 A few days ago, upon the top of a book-shelf, I found 
 a roll of ancient bills and odd documents connected 
 with my Mexican wanderings; wrapped up in the midst 
 of them was my long-lost knife, very rusty and tar- 
 nished. 
 
 It was given me by a woman of Kuching, from 
 whom I bought a kain bandhara of Siamese silk that 
 would actually stand upright, so solid was it, and so 
 thick with gold. The thing cost forty dollars, less than 
 the value of the bullion, I should think ; but the vendor 
 agreed to sell me another, which she was wearing at the 
 time, for twenty-four. I remember very well the design 
 of that: a Malay tartan, the large squares black, em- 
 broidered profusely in silver, with lines of various 
 breadth and tone of red upon a silver ground. Of this 
 bargain, however, she repented ; and one day, when I 
 sent my servant to demand the article, she forwarded 
 the knife as a peace-offering. 
 
255 
 
 This woman lived in a neat house of the Chinese 
 bazaar, close by the fort. Photographs given me by the 
 present rajah display the change that has taken place 
 in this neighbourhood, where not a beam nor a tile 
 remains to show what the most prosperous quarter of 
 the capital was like eighteen years since, so greatly is it 
 improved. The dwelling she inhabited had a wide 
 verandah looking on the street, where she sat all day. 
 They called her Dayang something or other; let us say, 
 Dayang Sirik. 
 
 Two or three years before, she had arrived in Sarawak 
 from Brunei, possessed of means to live in comfort, and 
 many fine robes, articles of jewellery, and knicknacks. 
 The police thought it necessary to investigate her rather 
 mysterious existence, and they ascertained the facts here 
 set down. My memory is doubtless inaccurate upon 
 many points of detail, but I can trust it in regard to the 
 main events. They give a horrid picture of the state 
 of things that ruled in Brunei twenty-five or thirty years 
 ago, but I should be not less surprised than glad to 
 credit that it no longer represents the truth. In speak- 
 ing of the habits of the late sultan, and the condition of 
 his palace, I scarcely expect to find belief, but nothing 
 is stated for which published evidence and official reports 
 do not give warranty. 
 
 A certain pangeran of Brunei, passing through one of 
 his dependent villages, saw a Murut girl whom he fan- 
 
256 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 cied. She belonged to a family of some position, and 
 the chief thought it prudent to use honest means. His 
 suit was accepted, of course, but the girl did not like to 
 quit her home, and the lover did not insist. Upon an 
 understood condition that the bride should live with her 
 father, the wedding took place. In course of time a 
 daughter was born, and shortly afterwards came a summons 
 for mother and child from the husband at Brunei. Sus- 
 pecting an evil design, the father refused to let them go, 
 pleading the stipulation mentioned. Upon this arrived 
 a body of truculent retainers from the capital, breathing 
 flames and slaughter. A marriage-portion had been 
 paid for the girl, of course, and this the father offered to 
 return if he were allowed to keep his child ; then he 
 offered to double it; and finally the husband con- 
 descended to withdraw his servants and dissolve the 
 marriage, on receipt of three times the money he had 
 paid. 
 
 The luckless Murut woman considered herself free 
 once more, divorced by her scoundrel lord. After a 
 time she accepted a suitor, perhaps a first love, amongst 
 her own people, and they were married. When this 
 news reached Brunei, the pangeran was furious. He 
 swore to have the life of every one concerned in such an 
 insult to his noble blood, and started immediately for the 
 village. Warned in time, father and daughter escaped, 
 but the husband was captured, tied to a tree, and stabbed 
 
A WOMAN'S KNIFE. 257 
 
 by the chief himself. It has been said that the family 
 of the woman was not altogether inconsiderable. They 
 appealed to the sultan for vengeance, and for the restitu- 
 tion of their property sacked by the Brunei swash- 
 bucklers. The noble was summoned to justify his 
 proceedings. Arguing by the Cheri, or sacred law, he 
 denied that a payment of money could release a wife 
 from the marriage bond ; it was only a solatium for the 
 loss of her society at his town-house. What he had 
 done, therefore, was a legitimate vindication of outraged 
 honour. The sultan did not agree, and the chief imam 
 condemned such an interpretation of the law. It was 
 solemnly pronounced that the pangeran had behaved 
 very badly. And there the matter ended. 
 
 Meantime the wife and daughter had fallen into their 
 enemy's hands, and had been placed among his house- 
 hold slaves. After a while, a second daughter was born, 
 the offspring of the murdered husband. It occurred to 
 the noble that a present might restore him into favour 
 with the sultan, and one day he despatched the mother 
 and her two babies to the palace, as a tribute to the 
 offended sovereign. I do not know whether it mollified 
 his temper, but he accepted it. The children grew up 
 amongst the palace slaves, but the elder, being of noble 
 blood, was treated with more consideration than the 
 other. In course of time she attracted the sultan's 
 notice, and was promoted. 
 
 B 
 
258 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 A certain change came over the fortunes of the family 
 in consequence. The younger girl, Sink, was appointed 
 attendant to her sister, and the mother was freed. She 
 left the palace, and took up her quarters in the city, 
 living I know not how. Perhaps her Murut relations 
 supported her ; upon what secret fund of Providence do 
 thousands of such as she sustain a respectable appearance 
 in the thriftless tropic lands ! 
 
 The harem of the Brunei sultan is no splendid abode 
 I use the present tense for convenience, since there is 
 no reason to think that circumstances have changed with 
 a new sovereign. It reminds one rather of a barn than 
 of Haroun Alraschid's palace. In a building some 
 seventy feet by forty, fourscore women live wives, 
 concubines, and slaves. I do not know that any white 
 person has beheld the inside of it, for his majesty 
 carries jealous care to the verge of hypochondria. Be- 
 sides, very, very few, European ladies have visited his 
 capital. Report says that the half-dozen favourites are 
 lodged comfortably enough, and they certainly possess 
 fine jewels and clothes. But those less favoured have a 
 miserable existence. Their daily ration of the coarsest 
 food is barely equal to sustaining life, and for garments 
 they receive one set of clothes a year. Those who 
 belong to families at their ease may get an allowance. 
 Others, who possess some influence with their lord, turn 
 it to profit. But such as have neither friends nor favour 
 are not unlikely to pine in slow starvation. 
 
A WOMAN'S KNIFE. 259 
 
 Under such circumstances it will be credited that 
 intrigue is busy at the palace. Malay women are at 
 least as fond of dress and show as their sisters. Putting 
 aside the prosaic question of securing a good meal every 
 day, inmates of a royal harem who receive but one set 
 of clothes a year and those of cotton or cheapest silk 
 will always be plotting to get finery and cash. The 
 house is old, constantly needing repair, and the sultan 
 will not allow even a carpenter to go inside it. I should 
 speak in the past tense here, however, for of the reign- 
 ing sultan, his habits and character, I know nothing. 
 The old monarch handled tools himself, aided by the 
 female slaves. It was very foolish and short-sighted 
 policy of his majesty, for what those amateur assistant- 
 carpenters secured, they knew how to loose again. Bitter 
 and murderous enmities rose in the palace, but every 
 soul was leagued against the master. Secure in the 
 ready help even of foes, the royal women escaped at 
 pleasure, and stayed abroad for days. As the building 
 stands on posts above the water, a board quietly removed 
 gave exit to these amphibious nymphs. The canoe in 
 waiting lay unnoticed under a convenient shadow, and 
 a few noiseless strokes carried them to liberty. 
 
 To return was easier still. Even a favourite, by 
 choosing her time, might reasonably hope that an 
 absence of some days would be kept secret from his 
 majesty ; much more one of the rank and file. It was 
 
 s2 
 
260 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 proved in a great murder case that the daughters of the 
 prime minister, married to the sultan, took a month's 
 holiday once without his knowledge. 
 
 The whole life of these miserable prisoners was made 
 up of intrigues twisted, complicated, worked, and 
 moulded one into another; intrigues of love, of jealous 
 hatred, of court favour, of public and private fraud, of 
 family and trade. They had no other interest or amuse- 
 ment ; some, as we have seen, must intrigue to live. That 
 they should love or respect their master was absurd. 
 Those who treat women as animals will find themselves 
 treated as animals are. 
 
 There was a young noble about the court, famed for 
 his good looks, his recklessness, and his wealth ; we may 
 call him Pangeran Momein. The ladies of Brunei were 
 satisfied that male fascination concentred in this youth, 
 who seems to have been a rake as finished as the most 
 civilised realm could show. At the time I speak of he 
 had lately introduced to the capital a brother, Pangeran 
 Budruddin, who had passed his early years among the 
 Lanuns of Tampasuk. Possibly his mother came from 
 thence ; I do not know. Earth does not contain a race 
 more fiendish in its public acts than the Lanuns, and 
 those of Tampasuk are worst of all, having more wrongs, 
 as they consider, to avenge upon humanity. But these 
 pirates have virtues at home well fitted to counteract 
 the hereditary tendencies of a young Brunei noble. In 
 
A WOMAN'S KNIFE. 261 
 
 their own village they show none of that ferocity which 
 impels them like homicidal madness on the sea. Dig- 
 nified, good-tempered, forbearing towards each other 
 and towards their slaves, they reverence the sanctity of 
 home. Perfectly truthful they are, to the point that a 
 ' man will not only die rather than tell a falsehood ; he 
 will commit suicide for shame if induced by a moment's 
 weakness so to err. They are generous, and deeply 
 imbued with the spirit of the motto, Noblesse oblige ; 
 the noblesse being simply Lanun blood. Though gay 
 of mood and enterprising, they respect woman, putting 
 her upon a footing which she occupies, I think, amongst 
 no other people of the Far East. And she recognises 
 that equality by taking share in all their interests and 
 concerns. Not unfrequently a whole ship's company of 
 freeborn girls used to cruise with their male kin in 
 search of booty and adventure. The practice is aban- 
 doned now, as I have been informed, simply because 
 the activity of European cruisers forbids such large 
 vessels to be used as formerly, and the girls do not like 
 to go in small numbers together. We might be sure, 
 if there were not terrible evidence to hand, that these 
 " shield-maidens," as our forefathers called such bands, 
 were not the last at fray or plunder. To their male 
 comrades they were sacred, regarded somewhat as are 
 nuns by zealous Catholics. In short, the existence, the 
 ideas, of the Lanuns, at home and abroad, are singularly 
 
262 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 like in all respects to those of our own Vikings ten 
 centuries ago. 
 
 Pangeran Budruddin was educated amongst this 
 manly but misguided people. At twenty years old or 
 so he came to Brunei. Momein hastened to civilise him 
 after the court model, but his efforts were not appre- 
 ciated. Budruddin could not feel interest in the com- 
 monplace intrigues, the struggle for favours, the oppres- 
 sion of helpless peasantry, which made up his brother's 
 enjoyments. He had the Lanun ideal of woman, which 
 I would not have the reader exaggerate, but which, at 
 least, is very different from the Brunei. Accustomed 
 to rajahs and chiefs who are true leaders of men or the 
 Lanuns would not follow them, but swiftly run them 
 through he declared the lang de per Tuan himself, the 
 blessed Sultan, a doddering old fool. Of course, this 
 young noble did not think Momein's pleasures wrong, 
 but they bored him. 
 
 It may be supposed that a youth of such a stamp, 
 brother to the famed Lothario, good-looking, I imagine 
 certainly of strong character, did not fail to attract the 
 eye of Brunei ladies. But he fell in love with none 
 until malignant planets led him across the path of 
 Dayang Madih, as I name the elder of the Sultan's 
 slaves. It was at the end of Ramazan, when his majesty, 
 in full state, visits the tombs of his forefathers. On this 
 occasion the dames of the harem get their new clothes. 
 
A WOMAN'S KNIFE. 263 
 
 About a dozen, closely veiled, wait upon their master, 
 sitting beneath the shadow of a yellow awning in the 
 stern of the royal prau. 
 
 Water pageants are always effective, even in the dull 
 and colourless Occident. Our own muddy Thames 
 roused poets' enthusiasm and painters' ambition so long 
 as the gala business of the capital was transacted " be- 
 twixt bridges.' 5 
 
 Brunei is a wooden Venice, immeasurably finer in all 
 natural aspects and effects, as more brilliant and stirring 
 in its population. But I need scarcely say that monu- 
 ments and public buildings do not exist. Two large 
 mosques there are, as ugly and as mean as they could be, 
 and scores of fanes (djamis) like pot- works of the most 
 miserable sort. But the lofty dwellings of the nobility 
 crowd every stretch of shallow water, and on state occa- 
 sions each is a study, from the banners streaming on its 
 roof to the gaunt piles that uphold it, prismatic with 
 ooze and shell. The balconies, hung with brilliant 
 cloths and silks, are filled with an eager, clamorous, 
 motley throng. Clustered here stands the harem of a 
 chief, white-veiled, but robed in hues of sombre richness 
 which glow and flash with gold. They laugh and 
 chatter in unceasing motion, passing their siri-boxes 
 from hand to hand, smoking cigarettes of maize- 
 straw. There crowd the slaves, half-naked, a sheeny 
 mass of yellow skin, topped by the gay head-hand- 
 
264 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 kerchiefs, and skirted by the tasteful, sombre plaid of 
 sarongs. 
 
 The water bears a thousand boats, crushing and jost- 
 ling at points of vantage, scudding swiftly to and fro. 
 Larger praus, belonging to pangerans not authorised to 
 accompany the monarch, are decked with pennons, and 
 their crews wear livery. Others, bearing rich mer- 
 chants and sea-captains, dare mount no flag, nor put 
 their men in uniform ; but they try to hide this deficiency 
 by decking their wives and their own persons with extra 
 splendour. 
 
 It is a daily marvel how the bankrupt state contrives 
 to furnish such a show. Public and private revenues 
 have been diminishing this century past with ever-in- 
 creased speed, under a system of government compared 
 with which that of Turkey is a model. But we have 
 learned in other climes that solvency is not the condition 
 which oftenest breeds extravagance. 
 
 In the procession itself, beside the Sultan and his 
 household, all the ministers and high officials take their 
 part. It may be interesting to enumerate some of these, 
 for the order of things at this capital is not less strange 
 than excellent in theory. But I must again recall that 
 my information dates back twenty yesrs. Matters had 
 gone there unchanged for something like four centuries ; 
 but the world travels quickly nowadays, and it is pos- 
 sible, though improbable, that Brunei has moved. 
 
A WOMAN'S KNIFE. 265 
 
 First came the Sultan's barge, streaming with flags of 
 yellow silk, urged by fifty paddles, to the clang of gongs 
 and beat of tomtoms. All the crew were dressed in 
 yellow. On a platform amidships, under a great yellow 
 umbrella, sat his majesty, in a long yellow coat of 
 richest China silk, white satin trousers, stiff with gold 
 almost to the knee, and head-kerchief glittering with 
 gold-lace. His officials, gracefully robed, lay about 
 him, not cross-legged, but kneeling with their hams 
 upon their heels, or reclining on one hip. At the stern 
 of the vessel, under a yellow awning, sat the wives and 
 women. The next prau, almost as large, was that of 
 the Datu Bandhara, minister of state for home affairs, 
 whose flags, liveries, and umbrellas are white. Follow- 
 ing came the Datu Degadong, chancellor of the ex- 
 chequer, whose colour is black. The Datu Pamancha 
 succeeded, in green ; he is chief functionary of civil law. 
 Then came the Datu Tomangong, war minister, all red, 
 These are the four grand officers of state, whose colours 
 are attached to their respective dignities. But the sixth 
 prau belonged to a plebeian personage, more important 
 than they the Orang Kaya Degadong, chief of the 
 " tribunes of the people." Every quarter of the city 
 elects a representative to uphold its interests with the 
 paramount authority, every quarter, I should add, is 
 inhabited by a separate guild. These, in their turn, 
 elect a head, who is invariably a man of talent and 
 
266 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 resolution. It results from the system of choice that 
 the Orang Kaya Degadong is, in effect, that person in 
 whom the majority of Borneans put most confidence; 
 and this is so well recognised that the sovereign and the 
 nobles dare not oppose his will, so long as the people 
 stand by him. They may cajole, and they may some- 
 times murder, but they do not resist. 
 
 Following the Orang Kaya was the Datu Shahban- 
 dhar, minister of commerce, whose duty it is, amongst 
 other things, to look after foreigners and strangers. 
 The Tuahs, the tribunes mentioned, filled several smaller 
 praus, mixed up with inferior nobles, whose jealousy of 
 precedence made the tail of the procession rather a jostle 
 and a scramble. Every one of aristocratic birth may fly a 
 banner, but must not use colours devoted to the chiefs. 
 
 Pangeran Momein was one of the eight secretaries 
 attached officially to the Datu Bandhara, entitled to 
 seats in his barge, where he had obtained a place for 
 Budruddin. It was in the bow, and as the vessels 
 followed close, going and returning, the young man 
 stood only a few feet distance from the royal ladies. 
 Many eyes invited him, no doubt, to rash attempts ; 
 many roguish words were uttered for his hearing. But 
 he saw only Madih, who sat nearest. With a coquetry 
 perhaps innocent, universal certainly wherever it may 
 be practised without too much risk, the girl had shown 
 her face for one second when she marked a handsome 
 
A WOMAN'S KNIFE. 267 
 
 young noble observing her. The sudden gleam of ad- 
 miration in his eyes flattered but rather alarmed her. 
 Though an inmate of that evil palace since babyhood, 
 Madih had borne no part in its iniquities. I do not 
 mean to represent her as a miracle of virtue a condition 
 whereof she knew no more, by experience of life, than 
 the mere name. But he who travels open-eyed in 
 countries where passion is more frank of speech, and less 
 controlled by habit, must learn that there are natures 
 which cling to purity by instinct, without understanding, 
 or conscious affection tor it which repel evil things to 
 the last, though taught, poor creatures, to regard them 
 as the natural ways of man. 
 
 Madih had laughed and helped at many a deception 
 of u the master," and had borne her part in many an 
 audacious trick. But, laughing still, she had refused 
 herself to mix therein. 
 
 Even now, though Budruddin's face pleased her, and 
 his behaviour was such as gratified her fancy, she only 
 laughed at the messages he contrived to send. 
 
 But the youth was in earnest. He longed to return 
 to Tampasuk, and to carry with him this girl who had 
 moved his heart. He went to her mother and declared 
 himself. The old woman might well be tempted to 
 run certain risks, which long impunity had made almost 
 insignificant in her eyes, for such a chance of liberty 
 and fortune. 
 
268 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 She visited her daughter forthwith, and used all her 
 influence, all her descriptive power, to obtain the girl's 
 consent. And she succeeded, at least so far as to gain 
 the lover a hearing. For the first time, and the last, 
 Madih stole out of the harem, accompanied by her sister. 
 
 Budruddin put all his heart into his suit, and tri- 
 umphed. It was agreed that they should fly so soon as 
 a Lanun boat in harbour had discharged its cargo. He 
 urged his future wife to hide until that time with friends 
 he could trust, not returning to the palace. 
 
 Unhappily she shrank from this course. The fear of 
 detection influenced her to some extent being unused 
 to hazard it and also she had a childish longing to bid 
 the companions of her youth good-bye. The mother 
 also desired, as slaves will, to secure the few bits of 
 finery presented by the sultan. And so, after three 
 hours' absence, they went back. 
 
 An escapade so brief and innocent of ill-doing had 
 seldom been indulged by ladies of the palace, but fate 
 was malignant. The sultan chanced to be hungry when 
 he entered the harem, and in a bad temper also. He 
 tried and rejected the fare awaiting him, and called for 
 a special sambal which Sirik prepared a sambal is a 
 condiment peculiarly Malay, of infinite variety in material 
 and mode of spicing. Madih then suffered for her caution 
 and timidity. She had confided to none her design, 
 and when the lang de per Tuan summoned Sirik, half- 
 
A WOMAN'S KNIFE. 269 
 
 a-dozen slaves went to find her, without ill-intention 
 hunted for her up and down, made so much noise about 
 it really perplexed to explain her absence that the 
 sovereign's notice was drawn. Eeady always to suspi- 
 cion, he demanded Madih ; went to her chamber and 
 found it vacant, and satisfied himself that both the girls 
 were outside. Then he withdrew, white and tottering 
 with passion. 
 
 The difficulty of leaving the harem, no great matter 
 anyhow, vanished at the return. So many women 
 passed in and out during the day that with a slight 
 disguise any one could go by the purblind sentries. 
 Landing from their boat the three women went up the 
 steps, and through the door ; but, on the other side, 
 men seized them. The sisters, shrieking, were cast into 
 a chamber and locked up, whilst the mother was dragged 
 a few steps inside the salamlik (the men's apartments). 
 A door opened, and she was pushed in. There stood 
 the Datu Bandhara and two of his secretaries, Momein 
 one of them. The only furniture of the room, besides 
 the divan, was a table, upon which lay the strangling 
 apparatus. The woman fell on her knees at once, beg- 
 ging mercy in wild tones. The Datu Bandhara ex- 
 horted her to confess, but the fear of death closed her 
 ears. She cried and raved incoherently, until one of 
 the slaves present gagged her with her own loose hair. 
 Then the Bandhara, a feeble old courtier, delivered his 
 
270 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 speech, which promised life if she told the name of the 
 guilty man. Relieved of the choking mass of hair 
 which stuffed her mouth, the old woman began her re- 
 velations. After the first words, implicating his brother, 
 Momein sprang forward with an imprecation, slipping 
 off his heavy sandal, and striking her with all his force 
 across the mouth. 
 
 " Why waste our time ? " he cried. " She is guilty 
 of offence against the sultan's honour ! Let her die ! " 
 
 He seized the machine of cords and wood, tossing it 
 over to the executioners. Before the Datu could inter- 
 fere, or the woman utter an intelligible sound, the silken 
 string was about her neck, drawn tight by a motion of 
 the hand ; and after one supreme struggle, wherein every 
 muscle of the body was exerted, her head fell on one 
 side, and all was finished. 
 
 It remained to deal with the girls. Ignorant of their 
 mother's fate, they boldly protested innocence, declaring 
 they had quitted the harem to visit their family connec- 
 tions, and this assertion appears to have been sustained 
 by evidence. The lang de per Tuan himself did not 
 dare use torture perhaps did not think of it. The 
 notion is repugnant to Malay ideas. Upon one his- 
 torical occasion in late times the chief of Johore justified 
 his doings in this respect by the " sacred books of Eng- 
 land," which he said had been followed strictly. A 
 sultan of Brunei, head of all Malay people, would not 
 
271 
 
 have ventured, had he been inclined, to use such means 
 of extorting confession, though it were in the sanctity of 
 his harem. But he could and did condemn Madih to 
 death and Sirik to. perpetual slavery. This sentence 
 was lightened in the former case by an organised petition 
 of the harem. No such favourite as Madih could be 
 found amongst all the throng of women, and they used 
 their influence so great in all countries where polygamy 
 is exercised to obtain a commutation. They succeeded 
 of course. The sultan married her off to an old depen- 
 dent, and I know nothing more of her. 
 
 Sirik returned to her old degradation, and Budruddin 
 escaped to Tampasuk. Some years after he came back 
 as head of his family, Momein having died in a scan- 
 dalous brawl. Whether he sought out his former love, 
 I have no information. But he obtained the freedom of 
 Sirik, and took her into his own household, as chief 
 duenna of the harem. Some months afterwards, under 
 circumstances unexplained, she sought refuge aboard a 
 Chinese junk starting for Sarawak. Such a store of 
 handsome things she carried away that the police took 
 note of her as I have said. But no complaint ever 
 reached them from Brunei, and her life at Kuching, if 
 eccentric, was perfectly decorous. Nearly all the hours 
 of the twenty-four she passed in the verandah, shifting 
 with the movement of the sun. Huddled up beneath a 
 handsome sarong, with fine silks strewn about the mats, 
 
272 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 she watched the bustle of the Kina-pasar as long as day- 
 light lasted. Then she lit two candles, and still sat, 
 chewing betel without intermission, but very seldom 
 speaking. The neighbours thought her mad, and treated 
 her with kindly reverence as one afflicted by the direct 
 interposition of the Deity. As I interpret the feeling of 
 Orientals towards the insane, it is based upon the argu- 
 ment that Allah changed his mind in their special case, 
 for reasons to be accepted with submissive respect. After 
 creating a human frame which he endowed with con- 
 sciousness, he thought proper to withdraw the soul. A 
 being thus exceptionally treated by Heaven must not 
 be lightly regarded by man. And Sirik enjoyed the 
 advantage of this most interesting and respectable sen- 
 timent. 
 
273 
 
 A CARPET. 
 
 I HAVE no need to describe the object in question, to 
 which, properly speaking, no legend hangs. I bought 
 it at Candahar, for lawful money of the empire, and any 
 adventures that occurred in bringing it down have been 
 chronicled elsewhere. There is nothing particular to 
 distinguish it from other Persian carpets. The size is 
 perhaps unusual, and the colour. These slight pecu- 
 liarities attracted the notice of our young Brahui guide, 
 when I chanced to unroll it at Bagh. He exclaimed at 
 once, " I have a carpet like that at home ! We took 
 dozens of them once in the Bolan." 
 
 I like to sketch a background for my little pictures of 
 strange men, strange incidents, and nowhere could a 
 scene be found more striking than that before our eyes 
 as we listened to Eahim's story for a story he had, of 
 course, attaching to his carpot. The place was Bagh, in 
 the Kutchi desert. Government had built a row of 
 sheds outside the filthy town, where returning troops 
 encamped. Imagine us seated by the door at evening 
 
274 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 in the shadow of the hut. The foreground is occupied 
 by tethered horses, soldiers passing to and fro, wild 
 Brahuis and Beloochis reckoning their pay suspiciously. 
 Behind them lies a waste of sand, dotted here and there 
 with a solitary camel. Our young Adonis of the Brahui 
 nation stands leaning on his jezail. The horizontal sun- 
 rays outline his beautiful face, gild his silken ringlets 
 hanging nearly to the waist, and his flowing, graceful 
 costume. Away upon his left rises that stately tomb 
 renowned throughout the desert. Its great yellow dome 
 throws a shadow almost to our feet, obscuring those un- 
 sightly mounds of rubbish round its base. Terrace upon 
 terrace the huge building rises to that well-proportioned 
 vault. Graceful pillars and pinnacles, latticed windows 
 painted blue, relieve the dulness of the vast mud-pile. 
 Its solid foundations are walled in with blind arches and 
 pilasters. Umbrella-like kiosks, domed with azure tiles, 
 bound the steps of the main entrance. Beyond them, 
 mysterious and still, almost picturesque, lies the flat- 
 roofed town of Bagh, among orchard-trees in bloom, 
 and pale-green thickets of tamarisk. People in bright 
 loose garments, saffron and white and pink, green, blue, 
 and purple, loiter on the road. Horsemen go by, 
 rapidly pacing, their four-knobbed targets slung behind 
 the shoulder, their ready weapons glittering. 
 
 Upon the other side the tomb lowers a dark wood of 
 cypress, the burial-ground of this oasis. A pilgrim 
 
A CARPET. 275 
 
 kneels upon the sand, gleaming white against that 
 shadow. Far has he travelled to behold the sacred 
 place. He prostrates himself and beats the earth with 
 front and palms, veiled in his mane of hair rises to 
 press his hands together falls prone again. What 
 would be the conduct of that devotee could he glance 
 into my portmanteau ? Eahim Khan himself, our trusty 
 friend, would scarcely draw sword for me in that quarrel. 
 Three tiles from the very sanctuary, the grave of the 
 holy man, are locked up there ! It would be vain to 
 urge that the chief moolah sold them me for a rupee 
 apiece ; tore them from the monument with his conse- 
 crated hands, after timorous scrutiny of the neighbour- 
 hood. Those three tiles now form a bracket in my 
 drawing-room, and support the " Cross " of which you 
 will shortly hear. 
 
 1 asked the story of this tomb, a surprising structure 
 in the middle of the desert. Unfortunately, I made no 
 note, and it has slipped my recollection. The merest 
 fragment remains. The building was erected, by whom 
 I forget, in honour of two Persian saints, one of whom 
 is interred there. They were great princes. Either the 
 Shah or the Ameer sent for them, and one obeyed ; he 
 never came back. I remember no more, and these 
 legends would be valueless and uninteresting if they did 
 not preserve the strictest truth of history, scenery, and 
 manners. 
 
 T2 
 
276 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 When Rahim Khan was quite a child he often saw at 
 his uncle's residence a Candahari merchant named Asaf 
 Jah. Rahim is nephew of Alla-ood-dina Khan, head 
 chief of the Brahuis, who kept the Bolan Pass, and 
 levied dues on all who traversed it. With this potent 
 freebooter Asaf Jah had an hereditary friendship. When 
 setting out for a commercial trip to India, he always 
 gave notice to the Brahui chieftain, and an escort of 
 honour met him at the Dasht-i-be-Doulat. If Alla-ood- 
 dina was at home, he invited his friend to the castle, 
 where in feast and gossip he passed the time, whilst his 
 kafila laboriously but safely threaded the Bolan. A 
 smart ride upon the Khan's Beloochi mare carried him 
 to Dadur in the twenty-four hours, where he overtook 
 his merchandise. Upon these visits young Rahim, a 
 lovely boy no doubt, had often perched on the Canda- 
 hari's knee. 
 
 Things went on thus for years. Asaf Jah grew old 
 and rich. Once, after some days' entertainment at the 
 castle, he rode down the pass to rejoin his kafila, as 
 usual. An escort followed him. But Alla-ood-dina's 
 friend ran not the slightest peril, and his Brahuis 
 lingered, discussing news with a party of their country- 
 men just returned from the south. There is a rock by 
 Mach, whereon Mahomet stepped during one of those 
 unrecorded journeys of which every land in Islam keeps 
 a tradition. His footprint may be discerned to this day, 
 
A CARPET. 277 
 
 if one have the eyes of faith. I' haven't, and the holy 
 mark appears to me much like any other hollow in a 
 slab of stone. The footprint is clear enough, however, 
 to be venerated by Damar and Kakar, Brahui and 
 Belooch, for a hundred miles about. Asaf Jah was a 
 pious man, and he never passed this spot without adding 
 his stick and bit of rag to the fluttering memorials that 
 encircle it. 
 
 The stone actually overhangs the pass, some ten or 
 twelve feet above. A well-worn ascent leads to it, 
 practicable on horseback. Generations of pilgrims have 
 cleared a little space where a man may leave his horse 
 whilst paying his devotions. But in summer-time a 
 handsome pista-tree hides all this tiny area from below. 
 It is rooted in the pass itself, and at its foot bubbles a 
 spring. The basin has been enlarged, and a rude arch 
 built over it, beautifully hung with maidenhair and 
 common English ferns, plastered with liverwort for we 
 are still upon the highlands. The waters of the spring 
 vanish at some feet distance, sinking in the mass of 
 pebbles, and flowing underground towards the Bolan 
 river, which has its reputed source some hundred 
 yards below. This is a favourite halting-place for 
 Kakar Pathans. The cross-road leading to their wilds 
 debouches nearly opposite. It is a long march the 
 kafilas habitually take to this their first camp on the 
 journey to India. The road is waterless for many miles. 
 
278 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 By resting here several bbjects are attained. In the first 
 place, they put themselves directly under protection of 
 Mahomet, who chose it for a grand testimony ; in the 
 second, they water their camels in peace ; in the third, 
 they escape the danger of camping side by side with 
 Brahuis, Candaharis, Damars, and all those people, 
 mostly unfriends, who habitually halt at the source of 
 the Bolan. 
 
 After saying his prayers, and putting up his pious 
 trophy, Asaf Jah sat in the shade, to wait the arrival of 
 his escort. He talked with his slave awhile, and then 
 both dozed. A sound of voices disturbed the merchant, 
 who recognised the Kakar speech, and the merry chatter 
 of young women. Somewhat alarmed, he crept on 
 hands and knees and peered below, through the close 
 and twisted branches of the pista. At the middle of the 
 pass, some hundred yards in width at this point, three 
 donkeys stood in the blaze of sunshine. They were 
 handsomely caparisoned for women's riding, and slaves 
 held them. A number of horsemen, fully armed of 
 course, waited at a distance. But the voices did not 
 come^ from thence. At the spring, right beneath his 
 eyes, Asaf Jah beheld three girls unveiled, scooping the 
 water in their palms, and laughing at their awkward- 
 ness. In that glance the elderly and prosaic merchant 
 lost his heart. 
 
 It would have stopped Rahim's tale at the outset, 
 
A CARPET. 279 
 
 offended him sorely, and embued him with scorn for us 
 never to be effaced, had we asked curious questions about 
 this incident. As matter of history he did not refuse 
 allusion to the sex, nor even to love. But the allusion 
 must be quite abstract, void of all personal reference. 
 I never forget the lesson in Moslem savoir vivre which 
 this youth gave me once upon a time. Against the 
 advice of an experienced companion, I asked him how 
 many daughters had Alla-ood-dina Khan such daughters 
 being his own cousins. The concentrated frigidity of 
 Rahim's " I don't know ! " the sudden pause in his flow 
 of gossip and bright talk, gave me a first, a final warning 
 that individual woman must not be referred to in any 
 shape or way with the Brahui. 
 
 But I can imagine the portrait of a handsome Kakar 
 maiden, high in rank. She is tall, white, stately, formed 
 like a mother of giants and heroes. Her great black 
 eyes are superb of spirit and intensity, not slow even to 
 laugh in those young days, but incapable of tears. The 
 mouth is rigid even now, for all its perfection of shape 
 and colour, its smooth fulness of outline. That face re- 
 presents a character wherein love is very near to hate 
 suspicious, pitiless, unrelenting, a wild-beast passion. 
 The girlish virtues are all missing, even modesty and 
 chastity. Some male virtues appear, indeed, at their 
 strongest: high spirit, dauntless enterprise, tenacity, and 
 intelligence. But others which should be common to 
 
280 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 either sex have not a trace such, I mean, as truth and 
 kindliness; whilst the germs of every bad passion are 
 lying in congenial soil. 
 
 You think I am sketching a monster, and the charge 
 is not to be denied. Monsters the Pathans are, and have 
 ever been since history first mentions the race. Of the 
 innumerable statesmen who have dealt with them in 
 ancient and modern times, of the many writers who in 
 Persian, Hindu, Arabic, and English have treated of 
 them, not one records a national virtue, saving courage. 
 Their own historians are bitterest of all in warning the 
 human race against this desperate enemy of mankind. 
 
 But Asaf Jah was used to the type of woman I have 
 drawn, and he looked at this Kakar maiden only to covet 
 her loveliness. He sat still, hungrily gazing. Presently 
 the girls resumed their veils and mounted, riding towards 
 Quetta. When they had passed beyond sight, Asaf Jah 
 hurried to question his escort, and learned that the party 
 they had just encountered were retainers of Usman Khan, 
 a subordinate chief of the Kakars. Asaf pushed on, re- 
 solved to sell all his goods at Shikarpore, and return to 
 woo this peerless beauty. 
 
 Yah Mohammad Khan, eldest son and heir-apparent 
 of Alla-ood-dina, chanced to be at Dadur. Asaf had 
 known him intimately since he was a boy, and he deli- 
 cately sounded the young chief. There is fierce hatred 
 between Kakar and Brahui, but for the moment they had 
 
A CARPET. 281 
 
 a truce. Yah Mohammad gravely remarked that his father 
 would regret it if his ally took a wife amongst his enemies, 
 but he did not speak with anger. And Asaf drew com- 
 fort from this indifference ; for the ugly, squat sabreur, 
 whose acquaintance I recall with pleasure, speaks with 
 terrible emphasis when he is in earnest. 
 
 Asaf went on to Shikarpore, after dispatching a note 
 to Alla-ood-dina. He named his intention of propos- 
 ing for the daughter of Usman Khan, adding that Yah 
 Mohammad approved. At Shikarpore he sold his mer- 
 chandise for what it would fetch, and within a month 
 returned to Dadur. Alla-ood-dina's reply was waiting. 
 It accused his friend of deception. Yah Mohammad had 
 not understood that the lady was daughter of Usman 
 Khan. With that chieftain Alla-ood-dina had a family 
 feud, which for the moment lay at rest, but was not, nor 
 could be appeased. No one who allied himself with one 
 party could expect to keep on terms with the other. 
 Perplexed and disheartened, but clinging to his purpose, 
 Asaf pursued his journey home. 
 
 I did not interrupt Kahmin, but a question arose in 
 my mind which may occur to others who know some- 
 thing of the country. How could a subordinate chief 
 of the Kakars hold his own against Alla-ood-dina? This 
 puzzle was explained to me afterwards. Usman lived 
 far away in the mountains. The Brahui Khan could not 
 reach him without disturbing powerful Kakar septs with 
 
282 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 whom he was at peace. But a more honourable motive 
 was hinted, perhaps with truth. Alla-ood-dina scorned 
 to use his might as supreme head of the Brahuis in a 
 family quarrel. He fought Usman with his own clan ; 
 and his subjects, as a people, were uninterested. 
 
 Asaf replied submissively and gratefully, declaring 
 that, since his patron held such strong views, he put away 
 the thought. And so soon as he had passed the Brahui 
 frontier he sent a message to Usman Khan with gifts. 
 A professional match-maker was easily found at Quetta. 
 To this old dame Asaf confided his means and intentions; 
 authorised her to propose such and such terms ; then he 
 went on to Candahar. Usman Khan meanwhile returned 
 an answer, haughty though polite, stating that he pre- 
 ferred a warrior son-in-law to a merchant. But the 
 match-maker, well paid, came to his village. The precise 
 declarations she carried were given, not to the Khan, of 
 course, but to his wife. In speaking of the daughter 
 let us call her Raziah I have tried to show what like 
 are Kakar women. It may be believed that such persons 
 have authority in a household. The Khan's wife was 
 tempted. Of men and arms a Pathun chief has abun- 
 dance, but he wants cash dreadfully as a rule. AsaPs 
 proposals included, of course, a handsome sum to the 
 bride's father. And Usman Khan approved the match 
 when this was clearly appraised. 
 
 The negotiations came to Alla-ood-dina's knowledge. 
 
A CARPET. 283 
 
 He wrote to Asaf once more. Upon the falsehood prac- 
 tised towards himself the chief did not insist, perhaps he 
 did not think much of that. He appealed to the honour- 
 able feelings of his old friend. " Oh, my brother, let 
 not our fathers hear that for a woman's sake we have 
 wasted the legacy they bequeathed us ! My liver is in- 
 flamed thinking of the disappointment and danger that 
 await you. The Kakars are false. Though this maiden 
 have beautiful colours and bright eyes, so has the snake 
 which bears poison in its lips. If your heart needs a 
 young wife, choose which you will among my people. 
 But, if you persist in marrying Usman Khan's daughter, 
 there is death between you, merchant of Candahar, and 
 me, Alla-ood-dina, Khankhanan of the Brahui nation, 
 and all of our kin." 
 
 Asaf wrote an abject answer, but without hope that it 
 would move the fierce old chief. The Bolan hence- 
 forward would be closed to him. No merchant would 
 undertake even to cover with his name the goods of a 
 man proclaimed enemy of the Brahuis none, at least* 
 whom he could trust. But Asaf was consumed with 
 that fond, foolish passion of age which discounts the 
 years remaining. He determined to retire from busi- 
 ness. And in due time Usman Khan rode into the city, 
 with his wife and daughter, and a ragged retinue of 
 dhuni-wassails ; in due time Kaziah was handsomely 
 married to Asaf Jah. 
 
284 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 " Some years after that," continued Rahim, " this 
 foolish fellow was persuaded to take a great kafila 
 through the Bolan, and " 
 
 I could not restrain my questions here. " Who per- 
 suaded him? Why did he risk death almost certain?" 
 
 " I don't know!" Rahim answered resolutely. 
 
 I saw by his manner that our young guide knew very 
 welli but there was no arguing with his sense of decorum. 
 I do not profess to have had other means of information 
 But, from the incidents suggested, I have formed a 
 theory, a legend, to explain Asaf Jah's mad action. It 
 may not be true, but I am sure that it is not improbable 
 in that land, with those people. 
 
 Candahar was then in possession of Abdul-rahman, 
 now Ameer of Cabul. He carried matters with a high 
 hand towards the trading class, too well used to be op- 
 pressed. Among his great officers was Bahram Khan, of 
 Kakar birth, but of a family long since exiled from its 
 native seat. In some assessment of contributions, Asaf 
 Jah was entered for a sum much heavier than was just. 
 Bahram Khan had it in charge to execute the order, and 
 to him the merchant appealed. Among the faults of a 
 Pathan woman, indifference to a husband's affairs of 
 business is certainly not to be counted. Learning who 
 was the person in authority about this matter, Raziah 
 primed her lord with various facts and details regarding 
 Bahram's family in Kakaristan which were likely to 
 
A CARPET. 285 
 
 earn his goodwill. Asaf used the information shrewdly, 
 gained his case, and won the sympathies of this powerful 
 officer. Bahrain Khan often visited the house to feast 
 and drink. We may fancy him a stalwart soldier, with 
 blue eyes keen as a hawk's, a slender moustache, straw- 
 coloured, shading his false, handsome mouth; of such 
 types the Afghan army is full. Raziah saw him often 
 from the lattice of the zenana, through a hole in the 
 curtains; and she continually met him, superb on horse- 
 back, in the bazaar. She fell in love. For her elderly 
 husband, a Candahari, a trader, she had of course no 
 regard. The unaccustomed luxury which had given 
 such delight began to pall. No impulse or training held 
 her back. From childhood Raziah had listened to stories 
 of intrigue which none rebuked. Neither the modesty, 
 nor the sense of honour, nor the physical alarms that 
 restrain other women have influence on the Pathan. 
 
 Means lay to her hand, as they do to all in that 
 vicious city. Raziah wrote to Bahram Khan, and he 
 replied, not knowing his correspondent. But she did 
 not desire a mere intrigue. After assuring herself that 
 Bahrain's heart what they call the heart yonder was 
 free, she turned to another thread of the combination. 
 The husband was now insupportable. She tried poison, 
 fantastic substances recommended by Pathan tradition. 
 But Asaf ate her powdered diamonds, her tiger's whis- 
 kers, and the rest, without inconvenience. I do not 
 
286 ON THE BORDEHLAND. 
 
 mean to say that either diamonds or tiger's whiskers are 
 harmless. But their effect depends on accident, and 
 Asaf was lucky so far. Whilst Raziah cautiously inquired 
 how to obtain more certain agents, chance assisted her. 
 
 Bahram Khan suggested an enterprise which promised 
 great advantage. Some Persian merchants had been 
 seized by Abdul- rahman, and their stock confiscated, 
 Bahram obtained the offer of it at a price which must 
 yield enormous profit, if the carpets and things could be 
 transported to Kurrachi. His old instincts roused by 
 this chance of profit, Asaf bewailed the ill-will of the 
 Brahui Khan. He talked to his wife upon the subject, 
 and she saw an opportunity. Taking 'up the question 
 with the savage but cunning eagerness that belonged to 
 her nature, Raziah taunted him with his fears. She 
 worked herself into a storm of passion, declared she would 
 be no wife to a man afraid of Alla-ood-dina, with whom 
 her father had waged many a battle. Other merchants 
 threatened had forced the Bolan Pass, without the aid 
 which Usman Khan would give his son-in-law. And so 
 they had a serious quarrel all quarrels, indeed, are 
 serious with that people. 
 
 Asaf endeavoured to explain that, in cases when the 
 Bolan had been forced, Alla-ood-dina had not taken part 
 in the affray. It had always arisen from illegal exactions 
 of his officers, whom he left to fight it out. The case 
 was different here. But Raziah would not listen, and 
 
A CARPET. 287 
 
 the uxorious old man gave way. He bought the Per- 
 sian goods, fitted out his kafila, and engaged a very 
 powerful guard. But Asaf principally relied on a diver- 
 sion which the Kakars promised to make. When all 
 was prepared, with such secrecy as might be, another 
 storm burst. The merchant had never thought of going 
 himself. So soon as Raziah understood this, or pretended 
 to learn it, she raved with scornful passion, called her 
 husband coward, and used other epithets quite unrefined. 
 This sort of objurgation is not patiently supported twice 
 in a Pathan household. Asaf seized his riding-whip, and 
 laid the knotted thong across her shoulders. Raziah 
 sprang at him, forced him down, and drew the ever- 
 ready knife. But in the tempest of fury these people do 
 not lose their heads. Domestic affrays are common 
 enough among them, but when they end in the murder 
 of the husband Afghan law punishes them with the ex- 
 tremest severity ; for every man is interested in this 
 matter. Raziah withdrew, sternly declaring that she 
 would not see her husband's face again until he returned 
 from India. 
 
 Such refusal of marital rights is not uncommon. 
 Strangely enough, etiquette supports a wife in any such 
 freak of temper. There are exceptions, naturally ; but 
 as a rule the husband has no remedy except divorce, if a 
 wife be obstinate. Asaf yielded after a time, and was 
 restored to favour on conditions. He strengthened the 
 
288 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 guard, and obtained a company of soldiers from Bahram 
 Khan. To deceive the Brahui, it was put about that the 
 kafila would rendezvous at Chaman ; a week before the 
 time appointed, it had all collected there. Asaf slipped 
 away at night, and reached the Kojak Pass in twelve 
 hours' hard riding. Forthwith, the kafila got into 
 motion. Alla-ood-dina was doubtless aware of its ap- 
 proach. But, if the elaborate arrangements for mislead- 
 ing him were successful, Asaf might hope he would be 
 taken by surprise, and that the caravan would escape 
 before he could raise men enough to attack such a power- 
 ful body. The return by Lahore and Cabul gave no 
 anxiety. 
 
 But Alla-ood-dina was informed of every movement. 
 He had, moreover, an assurance that the Kakars would 
 not stir, and that the troops would not fight if 
 let alone. So soon as her husband gave way, Raziah 
 made known to Bahram Khan who was his corre- 
 spondent. The confidential messenger exhausted herself 
 in describing her employer's beauty and her wealth. 
 Raziah would not see the Khan ; but thoughtfully, 
 frankly, in business-like style, she suggested how his 
 friend, her husband, might be betrayed, that he might 
 marry the widow. And Bahram accepted, of course, 
 without a qualm. 
 
 The kafila marched rapidly. In four days it reached 
 the Dasht-i-be-Doulat, were Alla-ood dina's officers were 
 
A CARPET. 289 
 
 waiting, as usual, to receive black-mail. Their presence 
 reassured Asaf. Taking it as a sign that the Brahuis had 
 not been warned, he peremptorily refused to pay. The 
 officers acted their part well, threatened vengeance, and 
 drew off. For three days the caravan proceeded peace- 
 fully, passed the Kotal, passed Mach, and gained that 
 plateau in the middle of the defile the name of which I 
 grieve to forget. The Kakars did not join, as expected; 
 but military combinations in that land may be spoilt by 
 innumerable accidents. The more dangerous portions of 
 the defile had been traversed. Asaf felt tolerably secure, 
 with his armed guard and his soldiers. 
 
 But whilst the sirwans were mustering at earliest 
 dawn, their heads enveloped in long rolls of cloth, a panic 
 teized them. No sound could they hear through that 
 muffling ; the plain was dark and misty, but shadowy 
 forms flitted all round. They shouted, and the camp 
 awoke. Then rose the Brahui yell, chorused by hun- 
 dreds. Rattling, clashing through the pebbles, a storm 
 of hoofs burst in on every side, swept through the camp, 
 returned. No sentry had raised an alarm they were 
 all soldiers of Bahrain Khan, acquainted with the plot. 
 Men struggling to their feet were cut down, lay writhing, 
 trampled under foot. Asaf ran out of his tent. A dusky 
 horseman met him the mare, checked in her stride, 
 reared upright amidst a splash of flying stones and 
 Asaf fell, cleft to the nose by Yah Mohammad. 
 
 u 
 
290 
 
 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 There were cries for quarter answered by the venge- 
 ful yell, ringing chases and savage laughter. But 
 when the dawn, fast whitening, displayed the scene, no 
 man of all the kafila survived. The soldiers, drawn up, 
 stood to their arms. A knot of horsemen mounted 
 guard over the merchandise ; others, dismounted, went to 
 and fro, searching for corpses not yet rifled, whilst their 
 mares stood quiet on the very spot where they were left. 
 Camels trooped in leisurely, driven by the victorious 
 Brahms, gossiping, laughing, telling their adventures, 
 looking under every rock for loot. An hour afterwards 
 all had vanished but the burying-party these heaped 
 pebbles on the corpses as they lay. A large cairn was 
 raised over Asaf Jah. Every passing Brahui throws a 
 stone upon it to this day. 
 
 The plunder was immense. Common men fed their 
 mares on melons and dried apricots and figs. Such was 
 the number of carpets that Rahim, Yah Mohammad's 
 page at the time, received a bundle of them. Every 
 woman of Alla-ood-dina's clan robed herself in silk. 
 
 Bahram Khan also obtained his reward. Within the 
 briefest time allowable he married Raziah. But, as these 
 events happened shortly before Yakoob's victory over 
 Abdul-rahman, it is likely that the honeymoon was 
 interrupted. One may faintly hope that vengeance 
 overtook the treacherous pair ; but it is much more pro- 
 bable that Bahram Khan ratted in time. 
 
A CARPET. 291 
 
 NOTE. This story is repeated as Rahim Khan told 
 it. But within the last few weeks I have seen cause 
 to suspect that Alla-ood-dina Khan and his zealous 
 family deceived me and also persons quite otherwise 
 important as to his real position in the Belooch con- 
 federacy. An opportunity arose to consult Lieut.-Col. 
 Sir Oliver St. John, K.C.S.I., lately Political Agent at 
 Candahar, who sends me the letter following: 
 
 "My dear Boyle, Save on one point, the couleur 
 locale of your story is as accurate as vivid. The solitary 
 exception is your calling our venerable friend Alla-ood- 
 dina * chief of all the Brahuis.' This he certainly is 
 not ; indeed, he and his clan of Kurds are only Brahuis 
 in a certain restricted sense. In the course of rny travels 
 in the country I have come across clans descended from 
 Arabs of Aleppo and Nejd, Jats from India, Afghans 
 from the Helmund, Leks from Shiraz, Toorks from 
 North Persia, and Kurds from Armenia. Of a clan of 
 these last Alla-ood-dina is chief. All the various tribes 
 now speak a dialect of Persian known as Beloochi. 
 Among them, but not of them, are the Brahuis, of 
 whose history it can only be affirmed that they are not 
 aborigines, and whose language is so unlike Persian or 
 Pushtu that philologists cannot make up their minds 
 whether it is Aryan, Turanian, or Dravidian. Accord- 
 ing to some, the Brahuis are descendants of a colony 
 brought from the north by Alexander ; others believe 
 
 U 2 
 
292 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 them to be of identical origin with the Rajputs ; while 
 a third story has it that they are remnants of the last 
 Scythian invasion of India. Wherever they came from , 
 they are very remarkable people. Though decidedly 
 inferior in courage and physique to their neighbours, 
 with no genius for domination or for spreading over the 
 land, they have not only held their own but have been 
 the preponderating power in Beloochistan. Their two 
 great chieftains, lords of Sirawan (the highlands) and 
 Jhalawan (the lowlands), are the principal members of 
 the Belooch confederacy, of which the Khan of Khelat 
 is the head. 
 
 u So much for the Brahuis proper. To return to;our 
 friend Alla-ood-dina and his Kurds. It is not uncom- 
 mon in Western Asia to find smaller and numerically 
 weaker clans affiliating themselves, so to speak, to bigger 
 ones. Thus it is the custom for lesser chiefs who are 
 members of the Belooch confederacy to speak of them- 
 selves and to be spoken of as Brahuis, though they 
 would be indignant to be thought of Brahui blood. In 
 the western part of the country the term Belooch is 
 used in the same way ; the Belooch proper is a peaceful 
 nomad herdsman. I remember, ten years ago, rousing 
 the wrath of a stalwart chieftain of the Regis (dwellers 
 in the sand), with whom I was trying to bargain for 
 conveyance across the great desert to :the Helmund. 
 He excused himself by saying: 'What would you have? 
 
A CARPET. 293 
 
 This is not India or Persia. We are Beloochis!' I 
 asked him, therefore, whether his was a Belooch tribe, 
 and I was startled by the lofty and indignant air he put 
 on. * We Beloochis ! no ! Kegis are men of the 
 sword, whose trade is fighting, not tenders of sheep ! ' 
 
 "Thus it happens that Alla-ood-dina Kurd, a de- 
 scendant of the Karduchi who hampered the retreat of 
 the Ten Thousand, and tried gallantly to stem the tide 
 of Macedonian invasion, is styled a Brahui. If his 
 family history could be known, I have little doubt we 
 should find that his ancestors were expelled from their 
 native hills as too bad even for Kurdistan, and found no 
 resting-place till they reached the Dasht-i-be-Doulat ; a 
 convenient asylum, whence their descendants have been 
 . pursuing for the last few centuries the hereditary occu- 
 pation of robbing caravans and cutting throats, as de- 
 scribed in your story. -Yburs sincerely, 
 
 "0. ST. JOHN. 
 
 " Army atid Navy Club." 
 
294 
 
 A CEOSS. 
 
 THERE is no little city in Europe, actually none, so 
 curious, so interesting, as Ragusa. Persons better 
 acquainted with that coast have told me that in quaint- 
 ness other Slav- Venetian towns may challenge it. My 
 own experience of Cattaro and Antivari confirms this 
 statement in some measure. But Ragusa is unique in 
 memorials of ancient state and wealth, above all in story. 
 Of that story in truth I have learned but just enough to 
 see that most students read it in a different version. It 
 is one, however, of special fascination. This is the 
 antique capital of that single branch in the southern 
 Sclav family which has yet proved itself European in 
 any sense other than geographical. It was a republic, 
 the rival of Venice in arms and arts, commerce and 
 enterprise, for ages. The winged lion finally overcame 
 and enslaved it; but Ragusan patriots will not admit 
 that their forefathers were conquered by Venice. It was 
 the shadow of the Turk that vanquished them, the iron 
 barrier crushing their small territory, the incessant 
 
A CROSS. 295 
 
 threat of a malicious savage. I have no opinion on 
 that matter. The legend of Ragusa thrills one like that 
 of a mysterious and silent ruin. Be it remembered that 
 this small sleepy town gave us the fine word " argosy " 
 for a great ship stored with costliest goods. 
 
 From one stately gateway in the massive walls to the 
 other is but a hundred and fifty yards at most, but at 
 every yard one may pause to admire. Just within, on 
 the right hand, is a fountain somewhat of the Turkish 
 style. On market-days and holidays it is a pretty sight 
 when the girls assemble at this place. Every village has 
 its peculiarity of dress, mostly bright in colour ; but the 
 Herzegovinian is so supremely charming that it kills all 
 others. The robe, of coarse black cloth, should be pro- 
 perly called a chemise. It has little ornament ; but from 
 the round " turban " cap descends a veil, framing a face 
 often pretty, always pleasing to the eye thus set off. 
 This drapery is of thick white material, falling to the 
 bottom of the skirt, and so large that a girl can wrap 
 her whole body therein if she please. World-wide travel 
 has not shown me a dress so becoming in severe 
 simplicity. 
 
 Opposite to the fountain is a church, and then the 
 broad, fine street, smoothly paved, stretches to the other 
 gate. Its blocks of stone-houses date, they tell you, from 
 the fourteenth century; saving the tones, which age 
 alone can give, they might have been raised yesterday. 
 
296 ON THE BORDEBLANP. 
 
 Tall, solid, exactly alike, and precisely aligned, they 
 present that ideal of street architecture which we are 
 now laboriously trying to introduce ; but we shall not 
 easily match these handsome structures. Between each 
 block endless flights of steps climb the mountain-side, 
 with a narrow landing at intervals where terraced cross- 
 wise traverse the ascent. Many a house here has its 
 mouldering coat of arms; many a fine remnant of 
 departed splendour one observes. Eagusa and Cattaro 
 have been little mines of treasure for Viennese dealers in 
 bric-a-brac, and the supply has not yet failed. Danisch 
 Effendi, the Turkish Consul-General, is still adding to 
 his museum of lovely cabinets, carved furniture, embroi- 
 deries, and what not, which every visitor of taste 
 admires with astonishment. 
 
 The handsome little street is broken only by an 
 antique statue on its pedestal, and by the twisted richly- 
 ornamented columns of the Doge's palace. In a small 
 square opposite stand other houses, finely proportioned, 
 gracefully sculptured and decorated, abodes of Kagusan 
 grandees in a happier time. Of these I do not speak, 
 for I recollect vaguely, and are they not chronicled in 
 Murray? All my wish is to give a background for my 
 little picture. 
 
 One day I entered that church mentioned, opposite 
 the fountain. It is a building full of story, doubtless, 
 but an ignorant traveller must pronounce it dull. 
 
A CROSS. 297 
 
 Nothing there dwells in my memory save the cross, 
 which is my present theme. It stood upon- a little table 
 by the wall, dusty, worm-eaten, splashed with wax, and 
 showing many a black gap in its surface of mother-o'- 
 pearl. The decoration caught my eye, for I had seen 
 the like in ruder workmanship on Russian shrines. I 
 asked the verger, who in black patched robe was fol- 
 lowing, how that sacred object came to be treated with 
 such neglect. 
 
 " Oh," said he, " a peasant left it many years ago, 
 and he is dead." 
 
 " If it does not belong to the church," I said, " I will 
 give you fifteen thalers for it." 
 
 The verger held up his hands as one who rebukes a 
 sacrilegious person, thought about it, dropped his indig- 
 nant palms, and followed us out pondering. Half-an- 
 hour afterwards he brought it under his robe to the 
 small hotel where I was staying, outside the gates, a 
 quaint hostelry with a grove of trees before, where 
 market-peasants camped ; the city-ditch and its mantled 
 wall upon one side, a large courtyard in rear. There we 
 dined under a vine-clad trellis; the standing dishes of 
 our bill of fare, fried cuttle-fish and paprika huhn and 
 pilaff. All the naval uniforms of Europe were exhibited, 
 for the fleets were " demonstrating" off Gravosa at that 
 time. The clang of swords, the tinkling of glasses, never 
 ceased throughout the day, and pleasant, courteous 
 
298 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 officers of the garrison sat in groups through the long 
 dull evening. I took some pains to learn what the 
 Ragusans thought of our naval demonstration. Some 
 enthusiasts may be surprised to hear that those ultra- 
 patriotic Sclavs disapproved and disliked it in general, 
 loathed it in particular. But if one think a little, aided 
 by some knowledge of the circumstances, their feeling 
 ceases to surprise. It appeared to the Dalmatian as an 
 outward sign of Europe's solidarity with Austria, and 
 the gentlest distrust Austria. Then it was designed to 
 support Montenegro. Towards that principality Eagusa 
 feels exactly as Edinburgh felt towards the Highlanders 
 of Rob Roy's time. A common bond of hostility to 
 the German is not strong enough to unite the civilised 
 Dalmatian Sclav with his predatory and ferocious kin 
 of Montenegro and Bosnia. Ragusa sympathises with 
 Cattaro and the districts on the frontier, which have 
 been exposed to invasion and outrage from those savages 
 as long as the memory of man records. It was irritated 
 to observe all Europe following Austria's lead, as it 
 understood the matter, in strengthening the hands of 
 brigands, whilst Dalmatia was left in slavery to the 
 stranger. 
 
 I could not exaggerate the abhorrence of these people 
 towards that kindred neighbouring race which has been 
 described as the Christian Hero, and so on. They 
 persist in declaring it a tribe of irreclaimable banditti 
 
A CROSS. 299 
 
 bloodthirsty, mischievous beyond all others, an enemy 
 of human kind. With bitter and unanswerable force 
 they point to the farmhouses unroofed, black with 
 smoke, that line the Bocche, surprised in some night of 
 terror, the peaceful inhabitants all murdered, and the 
 soldiers only warned by flames that steal and creep and 
 burst in triumphant fury when the marauders have 
 regained their mountain side. They confess in truth 
 that things have not been so bad of late, but the old 
 houses stand for a testimony. And they bid you observe 
 the fetid, noisome giant slouching along their streets, 
 his mouth agape at the signs of a very modest civilisa- 
 tion which his vulture eyes burn to destroy. For my 
 own part I think they do the Montenegrins injustice, 
 but I am not surprised. They are foul barbarians, for 
 circumstances have made them such. But there is gal- 
 lantry, and manliness, and shrewd intelligence amongst 
 them, which constrain the disinterested traveller to wish 
 them well. Thieves they are, because men fierce and 
 strong will always act upon the motto, " Thou shalt 
 want before I want ! " murderers, because they do not 
 feel the value of life, their own or another's. The 
 organised and desperate brigandage of Montenegro is 
 produced by want of food. Each nook and pocket of 
 its rocks has been cultivated for generations. It is no 
 extravagance to say that wherever fifty plants of maize 
 or potato can find room there they will be found, though 
 
300 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 the nearest cottage be miles away. Bits of soil twenty 
 feet square are treated as fields, and even this cultivation 
 does not suffice to feed an enterprising and prolific 
 people. They plunder to live, but it would be quite 
 useless to urge this excuse upon the sufferers. 
 
 Ragusans disliked our demonstration in particular, 
 because the sailors shocked them. Most specially their 
 friends the Russians offended in this respect. Unlike 
 other Sclavs other Sclavs at least of my acquaintance 
 Dalmatians are sober and temperate to such degree that 
 extreme indulgence is unknown. Drunkenness per- 
 plexed, irritated, frightened them, rather than disgusted. 
 1 remember a delightful little story told me by the aide- 
 de-camp of the general in command. A noble dwelling 
 at Ragusa, sent to head-quarters in desperate haste 
 begging immediate help Russians were attacking his 
 mansion. A detachment of troops was sent forth- 
 with at the double. It found two sailors, very drunk 
 and very ill, leaning in a helpless manner against the 
 house-wall, surrounded by the servants armed, with 
 whom they exchanged most miserable repartees in a 
 tongue unusually unintelligible. They were escorted or 
 carried to Gravosa, and sent aboard their vessel. The 
 Count protested that life was unbearable under such 
 alarming conditions, and he withdrew to his country- 
 seat that night. I am pleased to record that our English 
 sailors made less scandal than any, less even than the 
 
A CROSS. 301 
 
 Italian. But it must be owned that none got leave 
 without most rigorous scrutiny. 
 
 I have wandered somewhat from my cross and its 
 legend. The trophy with its stand is two feet high, 
 made of some brown wood, nearly rotten, veneered in 
 front, inlaid at sides and back, with mother-o' -pearl and 
 ivory. The florials is not that the correct expression? 
 at top and half-way down the body are roses, very 
 prettily fashioned, engraved and shaded in black lines. 
 Above the Figure on the Cross is St. Mark, writing, 
 with the eagle at his shoulder. Various saints and 
 martyrs are depicted beneath it, with the Virgin at foot, 
 a dagger pointing to her heart. She is again repre- 
 sented on the stand in a medallion, holding out a string 
 of beads; the Crowned Child in her arms also offers 
 a rosary. A medallion smaller and lower, at each side, 
 presents, the one, a saint with a sword; the other, a 
 saint with a bell. Between them two arms outspread 
 before a double Russian cross complete the figures. The 
 sides, back, extremities of the arms, and interstices have 
 graceful inlaying of roses and arabesque. 
 
 The verger assured me that this relic had never been 
 considered the property of the Church. The parish 
 priest authorised him to sell it, when he named my offer. 
 Under all the circumstances I believed this, but he was 
 in a desperate hurry. I let him go, and at evening- 
 time despatched the trusty Spero with a thaler to buy 
 
302 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 drink, and injunctions to extract all the history belonging 
 to my cross. Spero was a courier, who never caused me 
 five minutes' irritation or annoyance during six months 
 of the roughest service. He may be heard of at the 
 Saint George's Hotel, Corfu. Be the hint fruitful to 
 those it may concern. 
 
 Spero brought me back the narrative which figura- 
 tively hangs about my cross. 
 
 Once upon a time, towards the beginning of this 
 century as I understood, a Herzegovinian peasant of the 
 better class made the pilgrimage to Jerusalem. He was 
 accompanied by his younger son. Upon the way, in the 
 Holy Land, it appears, they rendered some service to a 
 monastery, the nature of which I did not ascertain. In 
 recognition thereof, whatever it was, the grateful abbot 
 presented Michaeloudovitch with this cross, esteemed of 
 quite peculiar sanctity. He also blessed the old man, 
 his boy present, his daughters, and all future generations 
 of the family. But he inquired particularly why the 
 eldest son was absent, and, when his father unwillingly 
 confessed that this ill-regulated youth did not care to 
 make the pilgrimage, the abbot specially excepted him 
 from the benefits implored of Heaven. 
 
 When the pair returned with their sacred treasure, in 
 no long time the influence of the holy man's prayers 
 became visible. Michaeloudovitch's landlord was a 
 young Moslem Bey, handsome and chivalrous, if master- 
 
A CROSS. 303 
 
 fill, as are many of his class to this day, in a region still 
 uncorrupted by the decadence of Islam. He fell in love 
 with the eldest girl, and engaged, if his suit were peace- 
 fully accepted, not to interfere with the bride's religion, 
 not to marry a second wife, and to let her bring up her 
 children unmolested, if only she would not resist their 
 fulfilment of the outward ceremonies of his faith. The 
 girl returned his love. The parents, though distressed, 
 and in some measure coerced no doubt, assented. So 
 their eldest daughter married the Bey, a man rich 
 perhaps, even by the standard of English country 
 gentlemen. 
 
 I hear an objector exclaiming at the outset of my 
 story that the match was impossible for both sides. It 
 would be so now, but it was not impossible, nor even 
 rare, a generation since. When Christians were hopeless 
 of deliverance, and Mussulmans did not dream of revolt, 
 they lived on much better terms. Neither party was 
 fanatical. Beys did not contest that their forefathers 
 had been Christian nobles, who apostatised to save their 
 property and lives ; peasants did not deny the argument 
 of flesh and blood. Both Moslem and Christian now 
 would foam to think of such a marriage, and the Bey 
 would scarcely be restrained from murder to whom those 
 conditions were proposed. 
 
 The younger son of Michaeloudovitch was forthwith 
 appointed overseer of his brother-in-law's estates, a 
 
304 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 position of great dignity and emolument. His sisters 
 became engaged to the handsomest and most substantial 
 yeomen of the neighbourhood. Everything the father 
 put his hand to prospered, unless it were of a nature to 
 benefit directly the eldest son. The luck of this youth 
 became so strangely bad that every one recognised the 
 visible curse of Heaven. He grew bitter and dejected. 
 
 Meanwhile the cross had been deposited in the village 
 church, where presently it began to work miracles. All 
 the population of the district flocked thither on saints' 
 days. The outcast son was unremitting in his devotion. 
 He connected this relic with his ill- fortune, and spent 
 days before it. To no purpose. Then he proposed to 
 make the grand pilgrimage, but fell into a precipice at 
 starting, broke his leg, and lost a valuable horse. As 
 soon as he recovered he set forth again, but on the first 
 day's journey he met brigands, Turkish renegades, who 
 took all his money and beat him sore. Again he set 
 out, and reached Trebinje the second day. There the 
 hahn unaccountably took fire, and he escaped with bare 
 life. 
 
 It is not surprising that such a series of mischances 
 weighed on a superstitious mind. Stancho, his relatives, 
 and all the village, conceived that Heaven followed him 
 with hate. No one would advance him money for a 
 fourth attempt, and his own resources were exhausted. 
 After moping and pining, the rebellious fit more natural 
 
A CROSS. 305 
 
 to a Herzegovinian peasant seized hold on him. One 
 day the community was horrified to learn that Stancho 
 had apostatised, and was lying at the house of a moolah 
 in Trebinje. That practical toleration of a former age, 
 to which I have alluded, did not extend to a case like 
 this. Christian and Moslem lived peaceably together, 
 because their stations, their religious boundaries, were 
 exactly defined. All their instincts revolted from a 
 change of creed. The Turkish convert to Christianity 
 was murdered forthwith ; the renegade Christain, if his 
 former fellows dared not kill him, found no sympathy 
 anywhere, and no help beyond the imam's door. 
 
 All communication with the family was dropped, of 
 course, and its next news of Stancho came through his 
 brother-in-law the Bey. Under the new name of 
 Selim, he applied for a commission in the militia of the 
 district to put into English form the spirit of his 
 request. It was scornfully refused, and Stancho vanished 
 for many months. He had good cause to repent a 
 desperate step, which had not bettered his fortunes on 
 earth, and had forfeited his hope of Heaven. When 
 next heard of, he had cast aside the turban, and was 
 fighting on the side of Montenegro, engaged, as usual, 
 in a war with Turkey. He distinguished himself in the 
 field. But there were many Herzegovinian volunteers 
 in the army of Tchernagora. One of them recognised 
 Stancho, who promptly cut him down. But the secret 
 
 x 
 
306 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 was out. In consideration of his services the mountaineers 
 spared his life, but they dismissed him. 
 
 There is no race of men so dangerous as the fighting 
 Sclav, the Montenegrin, the Bosnian, the Herzegovinian, 
 the Croat. Austria knows too bitterly what a terrible 
 antagonist is the civilised Dalmatian when he takes up 
 arms. If those wilder people ever had a character 
 resembling the Buss, and Serb, and Bulgar, circum- 
 stances have transformed them. The contrast now is 
 striking. Quick of intelligence but stubborn, cunning 
 though fearless, patient though excitable, the mountain 
 Sclav is a very incarnation of man the perfected wild 
 beast. Under a mask of soldierly frankness he is per- 
 versely treacherous, as a rule, but also he is bound to the 
 death by his own shibboleths, if one know them. Pity 
 does not move him ; his brain is cool whilst his passions 
 blaze to madness. And he has the physical advantages 
 which give his character full play. Generally tall, often 
 gigantic, he is always strong, for none but the vigorous 
 survive. His features are handsome, his eyes, of palish 
 blue or amber -yellow, have the keen look fitting to a 
 warrior. A long fair moustache up-curled hides his 
 stern mouth ; his bearing is martial, and his stride full 
 of arrogant self-confidence. Though rough with his 
 fellows, a man of the upper class is superbly courteous to 
 the stranger. And a manly costume sets off every 
 advantage. 
 
A CROSS. 307 
 
 Stancho yielded to his longings and went home ; he 
 reached the hut unnoticed, under his Montenegrin dress. 
 Old Michaeloudovitch was absent, and the mother dis- 
 owned him. He refused to leave, claiming his position 
 in the family ; some village women overheard the dispute. 
 Luckily for Stancho the men were all at work, but 
 these stalwart matrons set upon the renegade, disarmed 
 him, drove him forth with blows and stones. A rude 
 antagonist is the woman of those parts, graceful though 
 her costume. She has broad shoulders and sturdy limbs ; 
 she has seen battle, and much worse than that. What 
 virtues remain are not those belonging to her sex. 
 
 Bruised, disgraced, delirious with rage, Sancho pushed 
 through the woods. Climbing upward, he crossed the 
 bridle-path which led from the village to the castle. A 
 girl was descending one of the Christian maidens whom 
 the Bey's young wife kept with her. In days gone by 
 there had been love passages between Stancho and this 
 damsel. She recognised her form< / suitor, and ran back 
 full speed. He overtook and seized her ; she would not 
 listen, but screamed for help; in the brute madness of 
 his fury, Stancho lifted her and dashed her with all his 
 strength against a tree. 
 
 When the poor creature regained her senses, maimed 
 for life, she repeated his wild threat of smashing every 
 soul that lived in his native village as he had smashed 
 her. It caused some alarm, and the sentries at night 
 
 X2 
 
308 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 were doubled; but Herzegovinians are used to carry 
 menace of this sort lightly. The atmosphere of peril 
 and chance is that they are used to. Talking once with 
 Buko Petrovitch about the probability of an insurrection 
 before the late troubles arose, the Montenegrin general 
 said to me : " It will happen, not because the people are 
 oppressed but because life is too quiet, the Austrian 
 police too active in protecting them. Herzegovinians 
 like to protect themselves." 
 
 Time passed on, and nothing was heard of Stancho ; 
 the extra precautions were withdrawn. Two years 
 afterwards a band of brigands fell upon the village, 
 murdered all who could not escape men, women, 
 children and fired it. Michaeloudovitch* and his wife 
 had died meanwhile, but the second son perished with 
 all his family. At morning the Bey pursued, with what 
 force he could gather. The brigands were numerous, 
 Turks, Pomaks, broken Montenegrins, blacks, ruffians of 
 the deepest dye, well armed. Upon the second day 
 Stancho sent a message, announcing he would stand at a 
 certain place. But, as the pursuers threaded a defile, 
 they were suddenly overwhelmed. The Bey escaped. 
 Urged by the desire of vengeance, and by a wife of the 
 true savage stock, he gave himself wholly to the task of 
 hunting down these murderers, with no conspicuous 
 success, however. Brigands were killed from time to 
 time some were captured and tormented ; but Stancho's 
 
A CROSS. 309 
 
 audacious exploits won him a legendary fame from a 
 harassed but sympathetic peasantry. Recruits poured to 
 his band. 
 
 The cross had been saved. It was taken to the castle, 
 and set "in the private apartments of the lady. Some 
 considerable time after the destruction of his village the 
 Bey learned from his spies where Stancho would be 
 found on a given night. Relying on the information, 
 he set forth with his armed retainers, leaving but a 
 score of men in garrison. At midnight the castle was 
 alarmed, sentries fired and shouted, there was scuffling 
 at the parapet. In a few moments the corridors rang 
 with a clash of arms, a tread of hurrying feet, the screams 
 of the butchered, the yells of the victorious, the splinter- 
 ing of doors, Women-servants sleeping near fled to 
 their mistress ; she stood knife in hand, white and pant- 
 ing, but firm of soul. Death was present in that little 
 group of girls, not threatening themselves alone. 
 
 Stancho appeared in the doorway, wearing the fez 
 and a whisp of Broussa silk around it; half a score of 
 eager pushing ruffians behind him were kept back by 
 the outstretched handjar, " No one shall harm you ! " 
 he said. u I remain here ! " 
 
 His followers dispersed about the room, forcing chests, 
 casting out embroideries and linen, jewellery and precious 
 things. Stancho, looking round, observed the cross upon 
 a bracket, stepped forward, and took it in his hand. 
 
310 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 " The charm did not protect our village," he said, 
 smiling fiercely, " and it has not protected your castle, 
 sister ! Better to trust a sharp sword and a steady pistol,' 
 whether we be Christian or Pomak ! " 
 
 His sister had quietly crept up beside him. She 
 snatched a pistol at his waist, and fired point-blank, a 
 few inches from his heart. The men around sprang on 
 her, but with a trembling hand Stancho beat them back. 
 He sat upon a rifled chest, drew his other pistol, and 
 sounded it with the chased silver ramrod. Pale and 
 shivering involuntarily, he thought awhile ; then stooped 
 to pick up an embroidered handkerchief, wrapped the 
 cross therein, and silently laid it down. 
 
 Meanwhile the brigands had collected all the plunder 
 of that apartment. They did not trouble the women, 
 for by other means they probably knew where treasure 
 lay. Laughing and hallooing, as is the nature of the 
 Sclav triumphant, they noisily filed out, carrying their 
 bundles. Stancho rose and followed, taking the cross. 
 Without a word he left his sister. The dull firm tread 
 of his sandalled feet was smothered in a wilder burst of 
 cries and yells outside. 
 
 Horrible work was doing there, but the Bey's wife 
 gave no heed. She threw on her clothes, and was ready 
 in a moment. " Listen, you girls ! If I miss my lord 
 in the forest, tell him that these Pomaks stay at Kadomir 
 to-morrow ! They said so ! " 
 
A CROSS. 311 
 
 I will go with you, hanoum ! " " And 1 1" " And 
 I ! " they cried. But the mistress did not stay to hear. 
 Taking a key, she passed into the dusky corridor, tread- 
 ing carefully, less for fear of stepping in the blood than 
 of slipping and so raising an alarm, gained a secret stair, 
 and reached the woods by an unguarded postern. 
 
 Upon the following day, towards afternoon, the 
 brigands were securely sleeping. After a long night- 
 march they had breakfasted copiously with their friends 
 of Radomir. A line of pickets, with sentries thrown far 
 in advance, protected them. One of these, retiring at 
 the double, announced suspicious movements in his front. 
 Whilst the picket dispersed for observation, a messenger 
 ran to alarm the main body. He passed along the 
 village street towards headquarters, summoning sleepers 
 as he went, and sent a comrade raising the same cry 
 from the other side. All the brigands started to their 
 arms and mustered, but the captain was not to be found. 
 His share of loot, his arms, were there, but no Selim 
 Effendi. Perplexed and angry they set forth on their 
 retreat under command of the lieutenant. But from 
 every road came warnings of danger, and the band 
 broke into small parties, to make their way through the 
 tangled woods. A rendezvous was named, but few 
 reached it. Till evening the fight went on, and this 
 redoubtable corps of banditti ceased to trouble any more. 
 But Selim Effendi was not discovered either amongst 
 
312 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 the slain or the prisoners. And his few comrades who 
 got through looked for him vainly. 
 
 That miraculous escape, when a loaded pistol was 
 discharged at his very heart, suddenly aroused the super- 
 stition, and a better feeling than superstition, of his early 
 years. Holding the cross he was preserved from certain 
 death. He took it as a first last chance of Heaven's 
 mercy. With the instinct of a Sclav, Stancho kept his 
 secret, directed the midnight march as usual, the por- 
 tioning of the booty. So soon as the grumblings and 
 mutterings of the band, perfunctory on such occasions, 
 had subsided, when all was still he crept away with 
 nothing but his clothes and the cross, still enveloped' in 
 its napkin. Behind the first bush he threw away his 
 fez, and stamped upon it. The distant peal of musketry 
 all the afternoon told him of another serious peril from 
 which good angels had preserved him. At the nearest 
 monastery Stancho took asylum, and there so punished 
 his guilty flesh that the monks declared him a saint. 
 Some of the brethren had near as much cause for peni- 
 tence. 
 
 It was years afterwards that he passed through Ragusa, 
 in the robe of an orthodox monk, on his way to Jeru- 
 salem. A vague tradition was still extant which recalled 
 his burning eyes and long flaxen beard dashed with 
 grey. What impulse led him to deposit his cross where 
 it would not be duly honoured is a mystery. He never 
 
A CROSS. 313 
 
 returned from the pilgrimage. Fanatics of his stamp 
 often vanish on that road. They start without money, 
 they take what they need under a plea, honestly advanced, 
 of their sacred character. They insult the Moslem, and 
 they quarrel with all Christians who differ from their 
 views. It seems a paradox, but on reflection one per- 
 ceives it true, that if the lands they traverse were more 
 civilised the proportion which reached the holy shrines 
 would be very much smaller than it is. 
 
 That is the legend attaching to my cross. I have 
 filled up outlines, but added nothing to the incidents 
 which Spero transmitted in a few brief sentences. 
 
314 
 
 SOME FINGER-GLASSES. 
 
 THE title is not promising, I admit. One does not 
 readily think of an article less likely than a finger-glass 
 to have a good story attaching thereto. But mine were 
 not originally made for the purpose to which I have 
 turned them. In fact, they are not glass at all, but 
 silver ; that is to say, the metal of which they are com- 
 posed may be called silver, since a medijie and a chirik 
 are so called. The work which gives their interest and 
 curious beauty is Circassian. Long ago the virtuosi of 
 St. Petersburg admired this peculiar ornamentation, and 
 they established a home for it at Tulla, whence the style 
 takes its name. But European influence, a great de- 
 mand, and exile, proved too strong for the virtue of 
 Tchirkess artificers. Tulla work has steadily dege- 
 nerated, crystallising to conventionality. At the present 
 time it bears just the same relation to the bold free 
 model of true Circassian design as modern Dresden 
 does to old, a regulation sabre to a Damascus blade, a 
 barn-door fowl to a woodcock. Imitation, also, Russ 
 
SOME FINGER-GLASSES. 315 
 
 or French, has done mischief by lowering wages. I 
 know that for a grand occasion Tulla can pull itself up ; 
 but at the best the spirit, if not the skill, has departed. 
 This fact is understood in Russia, though ignored by 
 haphazard collectors elsewhere. 
 
 If one of these latter saw the finger-glass which I love 
 and pride myself upon beyond the others, I think he 
 would deny that it had much bearing or connection 
 with the Tulla work whereof he believes himself to own 
 some great examples. 
 
 Before describing it, however, I must say for what 
 use these things were originally intended. Every one, 
 nowadays, takes or has taken a Turkish bath, and he 
 remembers the shallow brass basin which they give him 
 there when he asks for water. In the harems of great 
 folk at Stamboul, such plain coarse articles as that would 
 not be tolerated. Basins much more costly the oda- 
 lisques demand, and, as most of them are Circassians by 
 race, they have a liking for the style of ornament familiar 
 to their youthful days, though they saw it then only on 
 the sword-hilt and scabbard-ornaments of their father or 
 their brothers ; and thus it has become a fashion in the 
 richer households of Stamboul to have vessels connected 
 with the bath in Tchirkess work -silver, of course. My 
 finger-glasses are drinking-bowls. They have been used 
 by hanoums and princesses, by laughing slave-girls and 
 wrinkled eunuchs. If I set myself to dream, I could 
 
316 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 fancy a tale for each of them. But at this .moment I 
 will make no call on imagination. 
 
 It took me several months to collect the number 
 sufficient for my purpose, since these luxuries do not 
 often find their way to the bazaar. I bought them all 
 from a fat Armenian in the Bezestan, excepting the 
 handsomest, of which I will attempt to give you some 
 idea. It is seven inches across, two and a half high. 
 Upon a gilt ground, roughened with innumerable dots 
 and lines, which give the effect we call " frosted," black 
 designs are traced with singular freedom. Upon the 
 bottom I speak of the outside, for the inner surface 
 is plain and polished is a star of sixteen points, three 
 inches across. The artificer had too good taste to make 
 it wholly black. In the very centre is a circle, occupied 
 by a tiny star, between the radii of which the rough 
 gold ground shows through. And the sixteen long 
 arms are black only at the edges, shading off to a dusky 
 hue down the middle. Starting from each alternate 
 point, figures shapeless but symmetrical, which I am 
 powerless to describe in words, run with bold sweeps to 
 the upper edge, four of them, with a device between 
 which very distantly suggests a group of banners. These 
 also are not black through, but judiciously lightened in 
 parts by rubbing off the inky material. There is nothing 
 finikin about this ornament. The outlines are deeply 
 cut, of a design broad and massive. The Tchirkess who 
 
SOME FINGER-GLASSES. 317 
 
 drew, and the Tchirkess who executed the work, were 
 masters. My other basins are almost equally beautiful. 
 One of them is not gilt, and the judgment of the artist 
 makes itself perceived in the lighter tone of pigments 
 which he has used for the decoration of a silver ground. 
 
 I had occasion to visit the Sublime Porte one bitter 
 day, which marked the beginning of real winter. My 
 route, of course, lay through the Galata tunnel and over 
 the bridge. At that time every ship was bringing 
 emigrants from Bosnia, Herzegovina, Bulgaria, and the 
 Dobrudscha. The arrival of Lazis from Batoum had 
 almost ceased for a while ; it began again, however. 
 Most of the European fugitives possessed some small 
 means, or had relations at the capital ; and so they 
 lived, though at death's door, until something turned up. 
 
 To persons who had not beheld the awful misery of 
 the Batoum emigrants, the plight of these would have 
 seemed horrible. All Constantinople thrilled with pity 
 when first the refugees displayed their livid faces in the 
 street. Nothing else was spoken of. The least charitable 
 made a sacrifice ; the idlest bestirred himself. But the 
 sight grew familiar. Starving Lazis or Pomaks became 
 an institution, almost a public spectacle. Reaction and 
 satiety began, and what charity survived after a while 
 in the shape of almsgiving, was nearly concentred on 
 the bridge. Curiously pitiful the sight at its either 
 end. A certain copper coin was demanded as toll; 
 
318 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 but, some time before, the Government had called in 
 the copper currency. Hence one had to buy the need- 
 ful mite, and this small exchange business had been 
 seized by the emigrant children. They swarmed in 
 many hundreds about either exit, patrolled the streets 
 of the vicinity, clinking a roll of paras in the face of 
 every passer-by, and chanting a little ditty quite melo- 
 dious. The burden thereof was : u Here you have 
 money for the bridge ! Money money ! " 
 
 Whilst summer and autumn lasted, though these waifs 
 were thin and pale, their song came cheerfully. The 
 greater number, perhaps, were girls under ten years old, 
 with plaits of flaxen hair escaping from the ragged old 
 handkerchief that formed their head-dress. Attired in 
 one skirt of Manchester cotton, barefoot and barelegged, 
 they could not be too warm in November, even though 
 the sun were shining and the south wind blew ; what 
 their shelter at night was a mystery of which the street 
 dogs, could they speak, might give an inkling. But on 
 that day we rose to find the streets ankle-deep in mud, 
 a chill blast driving rain and snow before it. The poor 
 little wretches had come to their posts as usual, to seek a 
 profit so minute that I never could understand where it 
 lay. But they could not keep the roadway. Sodden 
 with wet, blue with cold, they huddled together beneath 
 walls and entries. Crossing the bridge twice I only 
 heard one shivering parody of the familiar chant. But 
 
SOME FINGER-GLASSES. 319 
 
 all this class of children were the favoured ones. They 
 had clothes of a sort, and capital enough to buy six- 
 penny-worth of copper coins. Heaven knows their lot 
 was terrible; on earth few knew or cared. But there 
 were depths of misery among the emigrants far more 
 profound, which no Christian probably had seen. A 
 Moslem friend might sometimes hint unutterable horrors ; 
 but the foreigner was mercifully forbidden to behold 
 them. 
 
 I think that most men who habitually crossed the 
 bridge had a certain number of small clients to whom 
 they gave a trifle. For myself, I had two special favour- 
 ites, pretty fair-haired girls, full of life and fun whilst 
 the sunshine lasted. They speedily asserted a right to 
 the dole which I had innocently thought a free gift. If 
 1 offered less than they considered becoming, they 
 would follow any distance, holding out a little open 
 palm with the insufficient pittance displayed therein, 
 and speechlessly appealing to my sense of justice and 
 propriety. It was necessary to feel in all my pockets, 
 and to engage, in pantomime, that the balance should 
 be made up at the next opportunity, before they would 
 leave me. Upon this miserable day neither of my 
 young barbarians was seen. I transacted my business 
 at the Porte, and strolled on to the bazaar. Hovering 
 about the entrance, as usual, was a Greek boy who had 
 once or twice executed commissions for me. He ob- 
 
320 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 served, in his very independent English: -"Tchirkess 
 man is here, what got basin and other traps as you like. 
 You come and see." With wary steps I followed. 
 The unpaved road was trodden into slime, as safe and as 
 comfortable to walk upon as ice. We turned down a 
 steep descent to the right, and found ourselves in the 
 jewellers' bazaar, where a fetid torrent was hurrying 
 through the middle of the passage. Traversing this 
 freak of nature without surprise it was God's will! 
 Inshallah ! a turn to the left brought us to the gold- 
 lace-makers' quarter, which always fascinated me. 
 Beautiful are the combinations, delicate the tracery, 
 glowing the colour of their manufactures. I have seen 
 nothing like them elsewhere ; Delhi jewel-work, and the 
 famous embroidery made in imitation, have something 
 of the effect, but are less bright and transparent of hue. 
 It surprises me that when ladies search every country 
 under heaven for gorgeous trimmings and startling 
 accessories, none have discovered the very curious lace 
 of foil and precious metal produced at Stamboul. 
 
 Tearing myself from this glittering display, a narrow 
 alley falling to the right brought us to the heavy, 
 antique portal of the Bezestan. I am not going to 
 describe that strangest sight, strangest even to those 
 familiar with its type in many lands. Persons who 
 have not visited Stamboul know all about it from innu- 
 merable books. I should like one day to gossip of 
 
SOME FINGER-GLASSES. 321 
 
 some matters regarding Turkish life which are not 
 obvious to the tourist ; even in that article, however, I 
 should not permit myself to sketch the Bezestan. 
 Something must be said to give a background, but it 
 shall be briefly put. 
 
 My guide led me through the dusty passages, heaped 
 on either hand with ancient furniture, carpets, arms, 
 embroideries; antique china, horse-trappings, old plate, 
 skins; Damascus, Persian, Algerian trays; superb old 
 braziers lately fashionable as jardinieres; Indian and 
 Turkish narguilleys, Albanian girdles and belts, inlaid 
 work of Tripoli, and gold-fretted silks of Aleppo 
 briefly, with all forms and sorts of article which we are 
 used to term a " curio." The merchants sat cross-legged 
 among their goods upon a faded carpet, or a bald leopard 
 skin pushing Armenians, and noisy Jews in European 
 dress or something like it, slow Turks, sallow, slender, 
 smiling Banniahs, wax-faced Persians, neat and trim. 
 My little Greek exchanged a word here and there, and 
 upon the information he received we changed our course 
 several times. 
 
 Amongst the oddities to be observed by the observant 
 in this oddest maze, is the system of " passing a word 
 along." It is kept secret, that is, a stranger does not 
 easily obtain a clue to its mysteries. But so much came 
 to my knowledge through watching, that I gained a 
 general idea. My guide would ask somebody at the 
 
 Y 
 
 
322 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 gates perhaps an individual stationed for that purpose 
 " Where is the Tchirkess, in such and such costume, 
 who has a basin for sale ? " And forthwith the inquiry 
 was flashed from stall to stall, from corridor to corridor. 
 One man saw him in such a spot, at such a time, and 
 sends back word to that effect; another saw him later 
 elsewhere. And so from point to point the initiated 
 catch a hint, and, quickly as they may go, the verbal 
 telegraph goes quicker; so that, in a few moments, the 
 person wanted learns that he is asked for, and turns to 
 meet his pursuer. I have marked the process a score 
 of times, for there was no fanatic more devoted to the 
 Bezestan whilst I stayed at Constantinople ; but there 
 were several who rivalled me. 
 
 If such a system did not exist, hunting for a stranger 
 there would be like seeking Mr. Smith in Cheapside. 
 Thanks to it we found our Tchirkess speedily. An ill- 
 looking man was he, with a red beard turning grey, a 
 tall fur cap, and a long coat, which had been white, with 
 ragged cartridge-cases along each breast. Many are the 
 costumes beheld at Stamboul, amongst which, for artistic 
 merit, one would choose the Ghegghe and the Tosk Al- 
 banian, the Montenegrin, and the Tchirkess; something 
 might be said also for the Persian, on the score of 
 gentlemanly quiet. The others frequent are not worthy 
 observation from the judicious, though they have colour 
 and quaintness enough. Of these four, perhaps, upon 
 
SOME FINGER-GLASSES. 323 
 
 the whole, the Circassian is most commendable. It has a 
 manliness and dignity rivalled only by the Ghegghe Al- 
 banian, which but I speak with hesitation may be 
 thought too prone to brilliant hues. The Tchirkess has 
 no pronounced colour at all. This statement may be re- 
 ceived with surprise by people who have seen the Czar's 
 Circassian body-guard, the lining of whose pendant 
 sleeves flashes out as they spur to the gallop, just as do 
 the outstretched wings of a flock of parrots rising. I have 
 seen no representative of the tribe from which Russian 
 military tailors got this idea ; it may very well be their 
 own discovery. Wherever I have met the Tchirkess, he 
 wore the long coat white, grey, black, or dark blue; 
 with hanging sleeves truly, if of rank, but no rainbow 
 lining ; breeches to match the coat, and boots half up the 
 leg. The rounded crown of his high fur-cap may be 
 scarlet or azure, with silver lace, but this is only seen 
 from behind. The cartridge-cases diagonally stitched 
 upon his chest are embroidered with silver, if that extra- 
 vagance can be afforded ; if not, with worsted or silk. 
 They relieve in a charming manner the severity of a 
 robe which has neither buttons nor cross-belt, but I never 
 saw the gay devices of this kind which distinguish Circas- 
 sian regiments of the Russian army. A belt of metal, 
 silver if possible, encircles the waist; from it depends, 
 immediately in front, at an angle judiciously chosen and 
 always the same, a broad straight dagger, of which hilt 
 
 Y 2 
 
324 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 and sheath are ornamented with black arabesques on a 
 silver ground; a pistol or two, and a guardless sabre, 
 similarly ornamented, hang exactly where they would 
 be thought fitting by a trusted master of decoration, with 
 smaller objects, of utility dubious, but grace incon- 
 testable. 
 
 But the glory of my Tchirkess had long been dis- 
 counted at the pawn-shop. A single dag, a mere instru- 
 ment of murder, hung by a rude steel chain at his waist. 
 Filthy and frowsy was he, scowling like an envious beast 
 of prey as he hustled the throng with ugly swagger. 
 My Greek boy casually asked if he had anything to sell, 
 and without reply he brought up against a stall, dis- 
 closing one of my small pensioners of the bridge. She 
 recognised me with a saucy smile, and said something 
 to the man, whilst untying a ragged parcel. His trucu- 
 lent manner changed, not greatly to its improvement. 
 I should interpret the awkward unctuous smile of his 
 red face to signify that, as robbery and murder were 
 forbidden for the moment, he would gain his end by 
 amiable means. Meantime, the child had produced this 
 basin, my best-loved finger-glass, and a graceful priming - 
 flask of silver, leather, and bone, which hangs on the 
 wall behind me as I write. The purity of the latter 
 article was attested by that queer stamp, resembling a 
 grasshopper on a gridiron, which is the equivalent in 
 Turkey of our hall-mark. I regret now for the first 
 
SOME FINGER-GLASSES. 325 
 
 time it occurs to me that I never asked where, under 
 what circumstances, by whom, this stamp is imprinted. 
 I know only that the age of an object thus certified can 
 be ascertained within vague limits, since every Sultan 
 had his peculiar and distinguishing impression. 
 
 The flask I bought at once, but there was no proof 
 that the basin also was pure. The Tchirkess insisted, 
 however, that it should be taken at its weight in 
 drachms, and I had to yield. He answered my objec- 
 tion scornfully: "Do you think a man would make a 
 thing like that in any metal but pure silver ? " The 
 argument had its value, but I am not sure it was not 
 unjust to the conscientious artist. He would have done 
 his best, I think, in any material, under any circum- 
 stances. However, I paid a hundred francs, and carried 
 the bowl away rejoicing. My conviction was that the 
 gay mountaineer had stolen it. One may suspect that 
 most people who buy odd valuables up and down 
 collect a certain number of which the story will not 
 bear investigation. 
 
 The Tchirkess insisted on shaking hands, and we 
 parted. Six weeks later, or thereabouts, I was asked 
 to join some distinguished acquaintances on a visit to 
 Dolma-Batche palace, for which they had a special 
 firman. After repressing the impulse to describe the 
 bazaar, none but a lunatic would yield to the inclination 
 of describing that mongrel palace. It is very big, and 
 
326 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 we saw every inch, saving the harem of course. This 
 is the upper floor, and the communicating staircase is 
 so mean that one would not notice it. But there are 
 lots of fine things at Dolma-Batche. We had even the 
 privilege of inspecting His Majesty's bath and dressing- 
 rooms, an astonishing extravagance in silver and pre- 
 cious marbles. The great hall and the state apartments 
 are shown without difficulty to any one who asks per^ 
 mission ; and I shall only say, of the former, that it is 
 quite beyond compare the finest and largest chamber 
 I have ever beheld. The Escurial and the Kremlin 
 may show something to rival it, but I have not yet 
 visited their marvels. And the state chambers are not 
 unworthy of that superb hall, which the Sultan's dimi- 
 nished and impoverished court would scarcely people. 
 The furniture of them, if tasteless and uninteresting, 
 represents an enormous value. There are tables and 
 braziers there of solid silver, which, if melted down, 
 would yield a sum not unworthy of imperial acceptance ; 
 jewelled knicknacks, costly odds and ends innumerable. 
 
 But we were most struck by the pictures. One found 
 in that unknown gallery great works familiar from 
 childhood by engraving. I made no notes, and I forget. 
 But every few paces we came to a stop in amaze, recog- 
 nising a Cavalier, a Gerome, a Beaumont, a Corot, which 
 one would have declared to be in some famous European 
 gallery. They might as well be buried as lie here. And 
 
SOME FINGER-GLASSES. 327 
 
 amongst them hung the strangest caricatures of scenery 
 and the human form divine that ever child drew with 
 its first box of colours. The Turk sees no difference 
 between a Raffaele and a theatrical " poster." To guard 
 these treasures, and show visitors round, are multitu- 
 dinous servants, hungry, ragged, barefoot; by ragged, I 
 mean that their black cloth suits have been darned until 
 they can no longer bear a stitch, and flutter helplessly in 
 ribands. They told us they had had but one month's wages 
 in three years. Was there ever such a palace as this ? 
 
 It was still early in the winter's afternoon when we 
 departed, with much to talk of. Two or three resolved 
 to stroll back to Pera by the longest route. We walked 
 to Bechichtas, and on past the mouldy dwelling where 
 exists in mysterious seclusion the late Sultan Murad, 
 deposed as insane. Turning there, we climbed the 
 steep street running through that quarter which Abdul 
 Aziz pulled down and rebuilt. He had a maniacal 
 dread of fire, and this hill of wooden shanties, overhang- 
 ing the palace, haunted him nightly. I am ashamed to 
 forget how it is called, for a traveller's tales are nothing 
 if not precise ; but curious persons can easily learn the 
 name, and it matters nothing to the casual reader. A 
 very fine quarter Abdul Aziz built in place of that 
 destroyed, tall stone houses, excellently constructed, 
 street after street. The one objection to the suburb is, 
 that nobody wants to live there, as it seems. 
 
328 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 When the refugees began to swarm in thousands, the 
 empty dwellings of this neighbourhood were granted 
 them, or^were seized. Most have a shop on the level of 
 the street, which, in their unfinished condition, is merely 
 a big shed, unglazed, unfloored, unceilinged. The 
 Lazis, or Pomaks, or Tchirkess who took possession, 
 built a wall of rubbish to fill the aperture, or stretched 
 miserable cloths across it. With only such protection 
 against the wild weather of the Bosphorus, they took up 
 their dwelling on the bare earth, without food or cover. 
 There they rotted by families, abandoned of Heaven and 
 man rotted and died, and cleared away for others. At 
 this very moment (May, 1881), I doubt not, corpses are 
 thrown out of those reeking dens, corpses of those too 
 far gone with sickness undescribable to creep abroad in 
 the summer weather. With the earliest chill they will 
 be retenanted, all of them, and the deathly diseases, 
 lying in wait, will spring from ambush. 
 
 I glanced into one or two of those loathsome sheds, 
 not without risk. In the haze and damp one saw heaps 
 of rags, motionless, a hand or a foot projecting. Little 
 children wailed unseen, fn a single den I noticed 
 smoke, and some shapeless creatures moving slowly 
 round it. Nowhere a vessel of any kind, a tool or 
 implement, or household utensil ; but reeks and stenches 
 of human decay, of living putrefaction, which streamed 
 in close volume through the frosty air. House after 
 
SOME FINGER-GLASSES. 329 
 
 house, street after street, full of these perishing wretches, 
 and thousands in every quarter of the city ! Not more 
 persons died in the Great Plague of London by a swift 
 stroke of agony than have rotted on the Bosphorus by a 
 three years' doom, and are still rotting. 
 
 We walked up the hill, sad and sick. Very few 
 emigrants were visible, for those who could stir a limb 
 had sought happier neighbourhoods, where to beg or to 
 seek such miserable work as they had strength to do. 
 But, as we passed along, my little Tchirkess girl came 
 galloping round a corner. She turned at sight of me, 
 and ran off, but presently overtook us, out of breath, 
 holding a packet of embroideries. We recognised the 
 trimming of Bulgarian petticoats, coarse and rudely 
 designed, but excellently stitched and bright of colour. 
 I use them to loop my curtains. One could too easily 
 suggest how they might have fallen into Tchirkess 
 hands, but perhaps one would do injustice. Pomak and 
 Christian women alike use this style of ornament. 
 
 Whilst bargaining with the small pedlar two of our 
 party spoke Turkish with ease we heard female voices 
 raised shrill in anger, and presently a negress and a Lazi 
 woman, hotly disputing, bustled into the street. So 
 fierce ran the quarrel that an old zaptieh, keeping pace 
 , behind, had to push away first one and then the other 
 to keep them from clapperclawing. A little crowd, 
 mostly Greek boys and loafers, scudded about them, in- 
 
330 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 terposing humorous remarks. The little girl in our 
 midst volubly explained what the disturbance was about, 
 and those who could understand displayed sudden curi- 
 osity. Opposite the spot where we were standing, the 
 zaptieh pushed the Lazi woman through a torn curtain 
 into her home, and with the other hand sent the negress 
 staggering. After a volley of abuse she went down the 
 hill. 
 
 We interviewed that zaptieh, introduced by baksheesh. 
 He told us a queer story. The woman, Moslem of course, 
 had borrowed thirty pounds Turkish say twenty-seven 
 pound sterling of the negress, Moslem also, upon the 
 security of her child, some three years old. The pledge 
 was delivered, and remained in the lender's hands, at 
 Scutari, where she dwelt. I did not precisely gather the 
 motive of this transaction upon her part, whether she 
 loved the baby, or whether she took it merely in the way 
 of business with an eye to its commercial value as a slave 
 when somewhat older. For some twelve months things 
 had quietly remained in this condition. But the Lazi 
 woman meanwhile had learned something of human 
 rights, sacred and civil, as they exist even in Turkey. A 
 Moslem child cannot be pawned according to the former, 
 nor any child at all according to the latter. She de- 
 manded her infant back, without payment of the loan, 
 and was refused of course. After several applications 
 she lodged a claim of restitution with the cadi of Scutari, 
 
SOME FINGER-GLASSES. 331 
 
 who summoned the defendant to appear. -In blazing 
 passion she crossed the Bosphorus, sought out her debtor, 
 whom she encountered in the street, and hence this little 
 scene. 
 
 I begged a friend staying at Scutari to get me a report 
 of the case if it ever came forward. Some days after- 
 wards he told me that the negress, resolved to be before- 
 hand, had made a claim for her money in the civil court. 
 So the action found its way through the Annales Judi- 
 ciaires to all the press of Constantinople. It became a 
 cause celebre. The tribunal could not decide without 
 hesitation, but eventually it resolved that the child, 
 which was in court, must be given up to the mother. 
 Thereupon, as proceeds the report of the Constantinople 
 Messenger, late Levant Herald , u a scene not easily to 
 be described ensued between the two women for posses- 
 sion of the pledge. The members of the tribunal, who 
 had done their best to come to a rational and natural 
 decision in the matter, used all their influence with the 
 enraged negress to endeavour to bring her to reason. 
 All efforts were vain, however. The angry debtor would 
 have her * pound of flesh/ or her money. Nothing 
 more and nothing less. Finally, after a scene of confu- 
 sion and violence, the officers of the court were compelled 
 to use force to tear the infant from the hands of the 
 claimant and deliver it to its mother.*' 
 
 I know nothing further of the case. 
 
332 
 
 PERSONAL LIBERTY IN ISLAM. 
 
 FEW men are competent to write with authority on 
 the political relations of the Mahomedan system, and 
 fewer still upon its social and internal working. After 
 experience of El Islam in the Far East, India, Afghan- 
 istan, divers parts of Africa and Turkey, I make no such 
 claim. But there are matters I have noted which may 
 well have escaped remark from observers more learned 
 and more thorough, matters of everyday life which 
 people accept as things of course, which they think too 
 commonplace for mention to the inquiring foreigner. 
 One of such subjects I propose to treat here, the social 
 and religious restrictions affecting personal liberty in 
 Stamboul. Some of the facts stated may surprise and 
 interest a reader not unacquainted with Moslem customs. 
 And it is to be observed that, in so far as these restric- 
 tions are based upon the Koran and its interpretation, 
 their influence, stronger or weaker, is universal where 
 Islam prevails. 
 
 One of the very first impressions which strikes a man 
 
PERSONAL LIBERTY IN ISLAM. 333 
 
 in visiting Constantinople is the superiority of Stam- 
 boul, the city of the Turk, to Pera and Galata, the cities 
 of the Christian, in some of those matters which we are 
 used to think belonging to civilised administration. For 
 all that has been done in the last two years to widen 
 streets, to pave them, to supply gas, water, and so forth, 
 Pera would still be the filthiest, the most uncomfortable 
 of all towns, if Galata were not worse. No one who 
 has not seen would credit that in this age a wealthy 
 population could be so ill-provided, not with luxuries 
 alone but necessaries. In the Grande Kue de Pera 
 there are not fifty continuous feet of side-walk; where it 
 exists, the breadth is less than a yard in general. In its 
 widest parts the street may average forty feet, but there 
 are "narrows" where it diminishes to fourteen feet 
 from wall to wall. Up and down this alley goes the 
 traffic of a rich and busy population. Carts are absent, 
 but porters and pack-horses, pedlars, box- wallahs, patrols, 
 and sedan chairs are even more obstructive. Here and 
 there building operations are in hand. Whilst half the 
 street is blocked by hoarding, long strings of ponies, 
 attached head and tail, carry out the earth, and return 
 with loads of brick and lime. They carry enormous 
 panniers on either side, and, when things go wrong with 
 the foremost of the cavalcade, all the roadway is blocked 
 in a moment. Hamals, stooping double under a bale of 
 goods, stump blindly forward, with an uninterrupted cry 
 
334 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 of "Guarda!" Six or eight burly Montenegrins or 
 Armenians, marching en dchelon, bear suspended on 
 their poles a ton weight of merchandise, which they set 
 down each few yards to breathe. Neither horses, men, 
 nor dogs step aside for the pedestrian. But worst of all 
 are the carriages public and private. There is a law 
 enjoining them to pass the narrows at a walk, but no 
 one heeds it. Through a crowd which may be imagined, 
 of which ladies and children form a large contingent, 
 cabs force their way at a trot. The police do not affect 
 to keep order. It may be believed that shopping on foot 
 is not a lady's pastime under such conditions. There is 
 indeed a way to secure an unintemipted passage from 
 one end of Pera to the other. Find a hamal carrying a 
 dead pig on his back, and march behind him. The only 
 stroll I ever took with comfort was made under this 
 protection. 
 
 Fifty yards above the bridge of Galata all is changed. 
 The low-lying quarters of Stamboul, occupied by Chris- 
 tians, are indeed a counterpart of the vile Tophane, on 
 the opposite shore. But beyond the narrow colony 
 of foreigners, and the immediate purlieus of the bazaar, 
 lie roads broader than Pall Mall, macadamised, and 
 provided with roomy sidewalks ; open spaces are fre- 
 quent. Round the great mosques are trees and grass. 
 From every height one gains a glimpse of gardens. 
 Where there is such easy room to walk, porters 
 
PERSONAL LIBERTY IN ISLAM. 335 
 
 do not jostle. Beggars, though in plenty, are not 
 importunate or offensive as at Pera. All the sights 
 of the capital, saving the modern tawdry palaces, are 
 here. There are delightful rides and drives, an interest- 
 ing and amiable population. House-rent and living are 
 much cheaper than across the bridge. The water- 
 supply, such an anxious question there, has never failed 
 in Stamboul, and it is brought within reach of all. 
 Street outrages and burglary are unknown, unless some 
 band of Greek malefactors shift their quarters hither for 
 a brief foray, usually disastrous. Why, then, does not 
 the large and wealthy class of residents in Pera who 
 may live where they please migrate to Stamboul ? 
 Why, on the contrary, do Europeanised Turks migrate 
 to filthy Pera ? The explanation of these mysteries is, 
 in fact, my theme. 
 
 It is a current truism that, under governments despotic 
 and irresponsible, the balance of human happiness is 
 struck by increased freedom of the subject in matters 
 non-political. This may be true in general, but Turkey 
 offers a notable exception. 
 
 To take, first, public amusements, there is absolutely 
 nothing of the sort to vary the routine of life in Stam- 
 boul, since late sultans have preferred to worship in the 
 small mosque of the Medijieh, outside Galata. A plat- 
 form for regimental music rots in the square between St. 
 Sophia and the At-Meidan, but I never heard of its 
 
336 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 being tenanted. Nautches are common in the harems, 
 of a very inferior class ; but no Christian nor bachelor 
 Turk is allowed that wearisome diversion. 
 
 The absence of amusement is a trifling loss, however ; 
 Moslems do not feel it, unless corrupted by the Frank. 
 More significant is the fact that no hotels exist in Stam- 
 boul, nor any restaurant where an English artizan would 
 sit. Beside the horrid cookshops which send dinners en 
 mile very good ones, too, though strange of flavour, 
 and best eaten blindfold a man can get no food unless 
 he buy semeet and saloop and cakes of odd confection 
 from the wandering pedlars. There is not even a coffee 
 house where Turks of any position can assemble. Some 
 months since a few of the younger generals and officials 
 dwelling in Stamboul timidly spoke among themselves 
 of establishing a club. They broached the project to 
 Fuad Pasha, asking him to sound the authorities. With 
 the headlong good-nature of his disposition, he consented 
 to do what more cautious favourites would have trembled 
 to think of. The " hero of Elena," the one native 
 general who gained a victory in Bulgaria, escaped with 
 a passionate reprimand ; all his clients are marked men. 
 
 Casual observers attribute this dullness to unsocial 
 habits, jealousy, pride of purse and rank. They do 
 injustice to the kindly nature of -the Ottoman. We 
 know what a large part of the old Turkish life was 
 associated with khans, coffee-houses, baths, and public 
 
PERSONAL LIBERTY IN ISLAM. 337 
 
 places of assembly. The inclination to meet in friendly 
 gossip is not extinct, but a new order of things has 
 arisen. As power declines, it grows suspicious ; when 
 misfortune threatens an ignorant oligarchy, superstition 
 becomes its master. The political authorities of Turkey 
 see treason in every whisper, whilst the religious autho- 
 rities see blasphemy and immorality ; they unite in 
 thinking that human beings cannot mingle without 
 danger to the State and offence to Heaven. Spies are 
 everywhere, maintained by departments of Government, 
 by ministers in possession fearing for the morrow, by 
 ministers yesterday dismissed seeking means to upset 
 their supplanter. Above these private informers is the 
 army of religious police, some paid, mostly volunteer 
 inquisitors. And, above all, the private myrmidons of 
 the sultan. I am assured, also, that the chiefs who 
 hold, or have held, high office in the household, know 
 where to get information of all that passes in every 
 important family in the capital. 
 
 This condition of things does not tend to cheerfulness, 
 but the Turk has other cares. If he be a bachelor, 
 Church and State combine to make life miserable for 
 him. He must live with his parents, and, whilst they 
 still exist, the authorities content themselves with a 
 general reprehension of his celibacy. But when they 
 die, if they leave him homeless, his troubles begin. It 
 is forbidden any householder to take a young man into 
 
 z 
 
338 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 his dwelling without permission of the civil and religious 
 magistrates of the quarter. Before this is granted, the 
 lodger must undergo a severe inquiry, which takes into 
 account not only his personal reputation but that of all 
 his kindred. The landlord, moreover, must display his 
 ability to have this young stranger waited on without 
 offence to morals that is, without employing his female 
 servants, or the female members of his family. If the 
 bachelor be rich enough to occupy a house, or to rent 
 " unfurnished chambers," he cannot possibly obtain 
 that simple privilege unless he show that a woman of 
 good repute lives with him therein. Those who can 
 produce a blameless mother or a sister have no difficulty 
 when the identification has been thoroughly established; 
 even an elderly aunt is admissible. But, if a young 
 man have no kindred, he may go homeless for an indefi- 
 nite time. The abolition of the slave-trade is a griev- 
 ance he warmly feels. In days when this edict was 
 passed, one could go into the market and buy a female 
 creature, white or black, ugly or beautiful, according to 
 one's means, and thus fulfil the law. Times have 
 changed. It may probably be the fact that slaves are 
 still to be purchased by those who have cash enough. 
 Many Turks have assured me it is so, though I have 
 met with none who spoke, or admitted that he spoke, by 
 experience. But the cost is very high ; the merchant 
 would not deal with a young bachelor likely to be thus 
 
PERSONAL LIBERTY IN ISLAM. 339 
 
 circumstanced; and the transaction would surely be dis- 
 covered. 
 
 He has, therefore, to find a servant. If, for any 
 reason, he will not or cannot obtain a Christian his case 
 is pitiable. The injunction to wear a veil, neglected 
 among the lower class of Moslem elsewhere, and trifled 
 with by the higher class in Turkey, is rigidly kept by 
 women such as he is seeking. When there is a lady 
 ruling the household, a compromise is permitted where 
 servants, being few, must work hard. Covering the 
 hair in presence of male members of the family is 
 thought enough. But the muftis and the cadis, the 
 imams and the ulemas, would be horrified at the idea of 
 such gross immorality, if it occurred in a bachelor's 
 house. He must wait, therefore, living as he can, until 
 some one will cede to him, for love or money, an ancient 
 woman to do propriety; or he may hire a chaperon. 
 This essential piece of furniture secured, he has a do- 
 mestic spy in his house, who will report his every word 
 and action in the interest of the state and of public 
 morals. 
 
 When this is the case with men, it may be imagined 
 that woman's martyrdom is painful. The widow of 
 small means can find no independent shelter, whatever 
 her age. I have failed to discover what on earth becomes 
 of her, if kinless. A very great deal of nonsense, and 
 worse than nonsense, is talked about woman s status in 
 
 z2 
 
340 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 Mahomedan countries, but into that question I do not 
 enter. It is certainly a fact that the whole system of 
 Turkish ethics is based on the assumption that woman 
 stops indoors. It seems to reckon that all of marriage- 
 able years are married, with home cares, and, as a rule, 
 they are, even the slaves at a later age in their case. 
 We have seen how the graceless estate of bachelorhood 
 is rebuked and persecuted. The written law, and the 
 social code of propriety, discourage walks abroad. Many 
 Turkish ladies there are who despise their ancestral cus- 
 toms; some, indeed, who might be named, not satisfied 
 with driving about Pera in veils of thinnest muslin, un- 
 folded, have welcomed young foreign diplomats at their 
 weekly receptions. Of such rare cases we need not 
 speak. Sisters less " emancipated " cannot even go 
 about their business or their shopping in the leisurely 
 way affectioned by the sex. They may not stand in the 
 streets to talk with an acquaintance, or fo r any purpose 
 whatsoever. When making a purchase, says the law, 
 they must neither enter the shop nor stay outside. Upon 
 the wall of the English consulate hangs a memorandum 
 of this edict, which I transcribe in its quaint phraseology : 
 " As of old the sitting of Mahometan women within 
 or in front of shops, both in the Grand Bazaar and other 
 places, was forbidden by the Government, the necessary 
 measures are being taken against those who admit women 
 into their shops in opposition to this prohibition, and this 
 
PERSONAL LIBERTY IN ISLAM. 341 
 
 prohibition extends to all the guild?, and it is expected 
 that English subjects, tradesmen, are to be found in 
 these guilds. You are requested to order them to avoid 
 any action contrary to public morals and this injunction. 
 " (Signed) MEHEMET, AGHIAH. 
 Of the Stamboul Police." 
 
 What is a housewife to do when she wants a yard of 
 cotton or a bar of soap ? She may stand to buy it neither 
 inside the shop nor outside. This is one of many mys- 
 teries which I failed to trace, but in practice it matters 
 little. The bazaars are well frequented in spite of edicts, 
 and the little money-changers' stalls, the jewellers', and 
 gem -dealers ', have always a throng of women round 
 them. Most of these are slaves and confidential persons 
 transacting business for their superiors. In general, at 
 the present time, they are selling jewellery or plate, 
 clumsy of form, bad of workmanship, and inferior of 
 quality, though valuable for the weight of metal and the 
 size of gems. But a vast deal of underhand business 
 is transacted by the sarafs and the yaghliktchis, small 
 bankers and jewel-brokers. As a consequence of the 
 restriction upon women's free dealing in the bazaar, a 
 large class of female pawnbrokers and usurers has arisen. 
 Turkish ladies are at least as extravagant as their 
 European sisters, and even more thoughtless than the 
 most foolish. In these times of the decadence, the 
 
34*4 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 majority have parted with their gems and finery ; and 
 when a marriage takes place, a feast of circumcision, 
 or what not, they hire valuables for the ceremony at 
 monstrous interest. Some twelvemonths since the sys- 
 tem and the abuses it necessarily carries were displayed 
 in a famous case. Hairie Hanoum, wife of Mizhet 
 Effendi, ex-defterdar of the villayet of Broussa, was 
 charged with obtaining money and jewels under false 
 pretences. Occupying a good house, where she dis- 
 pensed a princely hospitality, she made it a business to 
 hire valuables from the female dealers, which she imme- 
 diately pledged in the bazaar ; or she hired in the bazaar 
 and pledged in the harems. Sometimes the jewels were 
 needed to deck herself and her slaves at a grand cere- 
 mony ; sometimes she pretended a visit to the imperial 
 princesses. The prisoner also borrowed articles from 
 people of the first rank, such as the wives of Essad and 
 Husein Beys, the daughter of the Governor- General of 
 the villayet of Hedjaz, and even from the daughter of 
 Muchir Safvet Pacha. The important element of this 
 detail is her emphatic declaration that all these great 
 ladies either took money in the shape of interest, or actually 
 " stood in" with her, receiving a proportion of the sums 
 for which she pledged their ornaments. In particular 
 she alleged that the family of Muchir Safvet made a 
 regular business of hiring out their jewels when he was 
 from home. These statements, of course, were vehe- 
 
PERSONAL LIBERTY IN ISLAM. 343 
 
 mently denied, and the judges appear to have passed 
 them over with as brief notice as possible. As for the 
 transactions with regular female brokers, they proved to 
 be a maze of in-and-in dealing. Those dames imme- 
 diately repledged the objects which Hairie Hanoum 
 pledged with them. The lady carried on her little game 
 for many months, redeeming some articles with the cash 
 obtained upon newer loans. But the enormous interest 
 finally swamped her. At the moment of arrest she was 
 found in possession of five diadems, thirty-six jewelled 
 plaques or medallions, eight aigrettes of brilliants, one 
 gold watch and chain, two half-diadems, seven pairs of 
 brilliant earrings, three jewelled lockets, one bracelet, 
 six diamond pins, five valuable rings, four brooches in 
 brilliants or rose diamonds, one bouquet with jewelled 
 leaves of flowers, one brilliant crescent, two valuable 
 enteris, ancient robes; the whole set down at over five 
 thousand pounds Turkish about four thousand five 
 hundred pounds. Hairie Hanoum was convicted. I 
 forget her sentence. But the foolish system which en- 
 courages a swindle like hers is unchecked. In the 
 lower ranks of life it produces every form of immo-. 
 rality, as a sensible man of the world needs not to be 
 assured. 
 
 Another great scandal occurs to my mind, as happen- 
 ing at Cairo in 1880. A Sheikh Hamuda Berda lived 
 in a quarter of the town less fashionable than is generally 
 
344 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 affected by wealthy saints who have gained public recog- 
 nition. With modest assurance he declared that Allah 
 had personally granted him authority to cure all diseases. 
 By the hand of Mahomet himself, the Merciful One con- 
 fided to him drugs and lotions which restored the sight, 
 replaced an amputated limb, and so on ; as for mere 
 pains and aches he removed them at a word. During 
 many years' residence at Cairo a vast number of persons 
 profited by his supernatural skill, but he specially laid 
 himself out for female patients. In later times the good 
 man found his practice so large that he could no longer 
 attend poor people. From every part of Egypt, Arabia, 
 and Syria, wealthy ladies came to consult the Sheikh, 
 and of course they brought a handsome present. One 
 day, towards the middle of 1880, the young wife of 
 Jzzet Bey, a colonel in the Egyptian service, proposed to 
 visit him for an affection of the eyes. The colonel sent 
 her with a proper retinue of attendants, who returned, I 
 know not why, after depositing their mistress at the door 
 of Hamuda Berda. She entered with a favourite slave, 
 but never came out again. For some days her husband 
 was not alarmed, since surgical operations demand a 
 certain time. Anxious at length, he called upon the 
 Sheikh, whose manner was not reassuring. He pro- 
 tested that the young woman had left on the evening of 
 her arrival, cured. The colonel was not satisfied. He 
 appealed to the police, and they searched the dwelling 
 
PERSONAL LIBERTY IN ISLAM. 345 
 
 minutely ; I presume that Izzet Bey is a man of influence. 
 Nothing was found in the saintly house, but a very foul 
 and malodorous well in the garden drew their notice. 
 Eemoving the cover they found the corpse of the young 
 woman and her slave, among such a mass of putrid bones 
 as showed that wholesale murder had been going on for 
 years. Brought before the cadi, the saint confessed his 
 habit of strangling every woman who came to consult 
 him if her jewellery seemed worth the trouble. Such 
 hideous stories now and then shock the grave, dumb 
 population of the East. 
 
 To return to Stamboul. Of course there is a post 
 there, and a telegraph, but nobody employs the one if he 
 have anything particular to say, nor the other if he be 
 hurried. I know by experience that a letter takes on an 
 average three days in transit from Pcra, and a telegram 
 somewhat longer, if it arrive at all. This is not the 
 result of stupidity or thoughtless indolence as most people 
 believe, but a matter of system. The Turk is neither 
 stupid nor thoughtless. I remember calling upon the 
 Indian Secretary for Foreign Affairs one Sunday after- 
 noon at Simla. He sat meditative over a chart of 
 Central Asia, and the outcome of his reflections was 
 presently delivered. 
 
 " A curious fact," said he, '* has come under my 
 notice. Look at this map ! From Orenburg to the 
 Chinese and the Afghan frontiers every reigning house 
 
34C ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 is Turkish we call it Turcoman. The Shah of Persia 
 is no exception. Follow me !" 
 
 I did so, and Mr. L. went through the list with a dis- 
 play of knowledge geographical, political, and genea- 
 logical which filled me with awe and admiration. It 
 is as he said; through all that vast area, the ruling 
 family of every state is Turkish, if not of pure blood, 
 at least by paternal descent. 
 
 Since the subject peoples, the Persians especially, hate 
 the Turk or Turcoman with the bitterest animosity, we 
 must conclude that there is a quality in that race which 
 brings it to the front among its equals in civilisation. 
 The Arab, the Tartar, the Kurd, and the Pa than, have 
 made vast conquests in their time, of which nothing 
 remains ; but the Turcoman, be he of Othman's sept 
 or another, holds what his forefathers won, and makes 
 advances in his turn. When he finds himself environed 
 by more civilised peoples, much more when he is matched 
 against them, he goes to the wall, but among his 
 equals he takes the lead. The English race alone in 
 modern days could make a similar boast. 
 
 It needs a certain time, and a concurrence of circum- 
 stances which seldom favours the passing traveller, to 
 gain a true conception of the Turk. The first introduc- 
 tion to a statesman or a soldier of the empire is not im- 
 pressive. As a rule, pashas are fat and pasty of com- 
 plexion. Their ungainly clothes exnggerate the usual 
 
PERSONAL LIBERTY IN ISLAM. 347 
 
 faults of build; they are ill-brushed, ill put on, and they 
 commonly want some important buttons. His excel- 
 lency's address is cold, slow, nervous, and uncomfortable, 
 or effusive to a disagreeable pitch ; I know better than 
 most that there are conspicuous exceptions, but we are 
 speaking of the general rule. The visitor's preconceived 
 idea of Turkish ignorance and barbarism is more than 
 realised. Unless his business be such that the dignitary 
 is obliged to speak out, he retires with an impression 
 that his excellency did not know much, did not under- 
 stand what he heard, and did not feel any interest in 
 what he understood. This opinion changes vastly after 
 some experience. The Turk is patient of folly and 
 attempted fraud, however bare-faced, but the charlatan 
 seldom deceives him. It is really astonishing how 
 shrewd and clear and well-informed are the men who 
 come to the front under a system which appears to us 
 haphazard and corrupt in the utmost degree. How 
 quick and keen of perception they are in their own 
 affairs nobody could believe who had not close and 
 familiar dealings with them. And their cold resolution 
 is almost fanatical. He who has seen much of the ruling 
 Turk understands how it is they keep their place under 
 certain conditions of society. 
 
 No argument is more commonly used to prove the 
 dulness of the Ottoman than that based on his neglect of 
 advantages unequalled perhaps in all the world. He is 
 
348 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 starving amidst every kind of national wealth, which 
 foreigners are eager to develop at their own expense for 
 his profit. But it is a grave mistake to suppose that 
 this state of things results from mere dulness. Ignorance 
 and stupidity would leap at the chances daily thrust before 
 the embarrassed Government. The fact is that Turks of 
 the governing class know very well that their native 
 land is rich, appreciate the value of mines, roads, rail- 
 ways, ports, and forests the rest. But they say in 
 plain words to a man who gains their confidence : 
 " Wait awhile, and you shall see. We did not learn 
 your Christian secrets in our youth. But we have 
 established schools ; we have imported European science ; 
 we have set our sons to learn. A generation is arising 
 which will be independent of the foreigner. When it is 
 old enough, then concessions will be granted, and then 
 all the world will see great things." For that time they 
 wait obstinately, delaying and postponing, as the oriental 
 manner is, yielding one point only at a time under 
 severest pressure. If speculators and capitalists would 
 lay it well to heart that Turkey means to admit no more 
 foreign enterprise if it can possibly be avoided, whatever 
 the temptation, they would save themselves much time 
 and cash, many disappointed hopes. 
 
 But, whilst Turks thus patiently await a new genera- 
 tion, the youth who should furnish it are growing up 
 emasculate, bewildered, discontented. They learn West- 
 
PERSONAL LIBERTY IN ISLAM. 349 
 
 ern science at the schools, they read Western books 
 mostly French novels in an atmosphere of dulness and 
 repression such as I have described. The pride of race 
 and contempt for Christian nations which sustained their 
 forefathers have been utterly uprooted by events and 
 education. Their homes are no more luxurious nor 
 their minds easy in a masterful indifference to the Euro- 
 pean world. Their faith is utterly sapped ; fanaticism 
 enough there is, but the fanaticism of envy and malice 
 and not of conviction. Under these conditions young 
 Turkey, on whom such hopes are based, is growing up 
 rotten. The parrot-learning it has acquired will be use- 
 ful only for tricks and schemes. Very significant is the 
 fact that the grave and graceful ceremonies of social life 
 are almost forgotten. In no country were these so plea- 
 sant to observe, so dignified and mutually respectful, as 
 here ; but the houses where they are still practised are 
 quoted by name. It is an interesting sight even now to 
 observe the gestures and compliments at a grandee's 
 levee ; but the kindly reverence of a household towards 
 its chief is scarcely practised anywhere. Without intel- 
 ligent sympathy at home, forbidden all amusement and 
 diversion out of doors, ignorant of boyish sports, even of 
 riding probably, the Turkish lad falls into dissipation. 
 For any kind of vice he finds liberty enough at Stam- 
 boul. No Christian have I ever met so bold even in 
 imagination as to draw a picture of the dark places in 
 
350 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 that city. But several of these educated youths have 
 assured me that the luxurious temptations of immorality 
 in Stamboul not Pera nor Galata are unequalled in 
 their experience of Europe not inconsiderable. 
 
 The state of society was revealed to me with rather 
 startling force one day. I called upon a young Maho- 
 medan whose English education has made him one of 
 ourselves in all respects, saving that it has not shaken 
 his religious faith. He held in his arms a lovely child 
 of two years old or so, who screamed with passion. A 
 small Circassian boy, fair-haired, blue-eyed, was trying 
 to distract her, but the apparition of the " Chelebi " was 
 more successful. 
 
 The children were presently dismissed to the harem, 
 and my friend observed : 
 
 " I dread to think of that boy's departure. My baby 
 has the temper of a little fiend, and only he can manage 
 her." 
 
 Knowing the small Circassian to be a slave, I asked 
 why he was leaving. 
 
 " I must send him to Robert College soon," was the 
 reply, " and get another playfellow for the child." 
 
 Kobert College is the American school where so many 
 middle-class youths are being educated well educated, 
 too, though perhaps the training is not in all respects 
 the best. 
 
 I said : " The kindness of your people towards their 
 
PERSONAL LIBERTY IN ISLAM. 35 1 
 
 slaves is well known to me, but I did not think it ran 
 so far as to pay their expenses at college." 
 
 He answered, laughing : "Not as a rule, of course. 
 But my intention is to marry those two if Achmet turns 
 out well. He is clever and well-disposed. The mis- 
 sionaries will keep him honest, I hope." 
 
 This was such a novel view of the relations between 
 bondslave and mistress that I discussed the matter at 
 length several times. 
 
 My friend told me that such matches, never rare in 
 Turkey, are now quite usual. The state of morals is 
 such in Stamboul that parents do not willingly take a 
 daughter or a son-in-law from families of their own 
 rank. They distrust all the world. It has lately be- 
 come a common thing to choose a slave, boy or girl, to 
 grow up under their eyes. The first expense averages, 
 perhaps, forty pounds, and the female child costs little. 
 She is taught truthfulness and virtue, fine sewing, the 
 mystery of coffee-making and of filling a pipe the arts 
 of a very simple housewife. A boy is vastly more ex- 
 pensive ; as in this case, he must be sent to school, 
 launched upon some kind of employment, and provided 
 for until the parents are satisfied he will make their 
 child happy. Then the pair are married, and the ex- 
 slave becomes a member of the family, though that 
 makes little change to him. 
 
 My Moslem friend is on such terms with me that I 
 
352 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 speak of his wife almost as freely as I should speak of a 
 Christian's. Remember, that he was brought up in 
 England and speaks the language as well as we. Many 
 readers acquainted with Constantinople will know whom 
 I refer to. 
 
 To my question how the child's mother regarded this 
 idea, he answered that it was her own conceiving. And 
 then he related various stories of domestic misery and 
 crime within her knowledge which had brought his 
 young wife to a fixed resolve that her daughter should 
 not wed a Turk of Stamboul. 
 
 I asked what she proposed to do if this little slave 
 died before marriage. 
 
 " Jn that case," said the father, u we are determined 
 to look out a husband in Syria, where there are still 
 honest men." 
 
 Such is the view which a Turk, educated in the real 
 sense, expresses of his countrymen not the elder, but 
 the new generation, of whom so much is hoped. 
 
353 
 
 A PUMA RUG. 
 
 COSTA RICA has changed vastly, no doubt, since I 
 travelled through the Republic, with a comrade, in 1866. 
 Its coffee is now an article recognised and esteemed 
 throughout the world; and this distinction, properly 
 translated into figures, means comfort, education, public 
 works, and all those forms of progress so deficient in our 
 time. There have been revolutions and troubles with 
 the clergy ; we have dimly heard of civil war ; I rather 
 think that a president has been - massacred. But the 
 statistics of the coffee trade show unbroken prosperity in 
 the mass. It is probable, therefore, that some kind of 
 amusement other than gambling and drinking has been 
 devised by ingenious and wealthy idleness. I have not 
 had the pleasure to meet a Costa Rican travelling, and 
 the reader may admit that as evidence not wholly unim- 
 portant of their home-staying disposition. We may 
 reasonably hope, therefore, that a system of diversion, 
 public or private, or both, is now in use. I should fancy 
 that San Jose, or, better still, Cartago, might be a very 
 
 2 A 
 
354 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 pleasant residence under those conditions. The women 
 are pretty. Fair hair, blue eyes, rosy flesh are common 
 amongst them, for neither Indian nor negro has mixed 
 the blood, and the climate of that tableland is as brisk 
 and healthy as the world could show. But in our day 
 life was very dull. Jungle-shooting of every descrip- 
 tion is to be obtained within a few miles of San Jose. 
 One might bag a jaguar before breakfast or he might 
 bag you ; and jaguars mean abundance of deer and other 
 game, though one must start overnight to gain their 
 feeding-grounds. But no one troubled about such 
 matters formerly. What became through the day of the 
 bright vivacious girls one saw at market or mass, in 
 early morning, I could never learn. Costa Rica had 
 already gone so far beyond other republics of Central 
 America as to found a club. It was a gambling shop, 
 no more, where the Chancellor of the Exchequer kept 
 the bank. This is not exaggeration. My old friend, 
 Mr. Matthews, English Minister to the five republics, 
 congratulated me as the only foreigner who ever left 
 that capital a winner. So I have no prejudice in saying 
 that life was intolerably dull at San Jose. 
 
 Amongst other changes in Costa Rica, the Serebpiqui 
 route has doubtless undergone transformation. In 1866 
 it ran through a district practically unsettled, and the 
 road came to a sudden stop at the Disengagno, on the 
 edge of the tableland. There was some talk in San Jose 
 
A PUMA RUG. 355 
 
 when we young English travellers announced our inten- 
 tion of riding through that forest to the Atlantic. !Not 
 a few had done it when much pressed for time, but 
 they were persons of small consideration. An adven- 
 turous female even had gone that way; but it was 
 rumoured that she lost her wits, and it was quite certain 
 that she was drowned before reaching the San Juan. 
 A body of troops had marched along the track to surprise 
 San Carlos Fort during the Filibuster war, and their 
 bold enterprise virtually closed that struggle. But Costa 
 Kican society had no personal acquaintance with any 
 man so rash as to try the Serebpiqui route. And Costa 
 Kican society advised us with warmth not to undertake 
 the business of pioneer martyrs. 
 
 It may be worth while very briefly to explain the 
 situation. San Jose and Cartago, the twin capitals of 
 Costa Kica, stand at a great elevation midway between 
 the oceans, but at that time they had actually no com- 
 munication with the Atlantic. All the commerce of the 
 country went round Cape Horn, or across from Panama 
 by railway, at enormous freights. People said, with 
 what truth I know not, that the ferocity of the Guatuso 
 Indians obstructed and broke up the old route to the 
 Atlantic, by the Serebpiqui river, during the struggle 
 of Independence, when the military posts were with- 
 drawn; whilst the Talamanca Indians wrought the same 
 mischief on the southern road to Lirnon. Upon the 
 
 2A2 
 
356 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 other hand, revolutionary individuals declared that the 
 coffee-growing oligarchy had systematically spread re- 
 ports to alarm, and had taken active measures to discredit 
 these convenient roads, so soon as their growing industry 
 discovered that the enfranchisement of the peons was 
 obnoxious. Freed from bondage to the soil, labour 
 showed an inclination to desert the coffee-grounds for 
 the Tierra Caliente, and the landowners took fright. 
 However that be, the fear of Guatusos and Talamancas 
 seemed very real at San Jose. 
 
 A road of some sort is now open to Limon. Whether 
 commerce have benefited or no, it is reasonable to 
 imagine that the fabulously fertile land upon that route 
 is occupied more or less, and no forays of the Talamancas 
 have been reported to Europe. As for the Serebpiqui, 
 I have not heard its mere name for sixteen years; but 
 I conclude that it is now, to some degree, inhabited. 
 
 Our friends of San Jose did not exaggerate the dangers 
 and discomforts of that journey. We started on April 
 3rd; we floated on the San Juan River, Nicaraguan 
 waters, April 8th. Only six days! But to me now 
 each of them seems a week. There is no jungle in the 
 world more lovely than that where it laughs in young 
 luxuriance; no mountain streams are more bright and 
 musical. Great tree-ferns meet across the bubbling 
 water, their fronds translucent as green glass where the 
 sunlight flicks through a canopy of leaves. Every tree 
 
A PUMA RUG. 357 
 
 is clad and swathed in creepers, huge snakes of vegeta- 
 tion, bare and ponderous, sunning their jewelled heads 
 at a windy height above ; or slender tendrils, starred with 
 blossom. Here and there is a vast hollow pillar, reticu- 
 lated, plaited, intertwined the casing of a parasite which 
 now stands unaided, feeding on the rotten debris of its 
 late support, and stretching murderous arms abroad, in 
 the world of leaves above, to clasp another victim. Other 
 trees are fading to a lovely death under shrouds of fern, 
 which descend from the topmost branches in a grey- 
 green cataract, soft as a pall, three feet thickness of 
 tender sprays. Great sheaves of bamboo make an 
 arch of verdant feathers overhead. A thousand tropic 
 blossoms, unknown to us, clothe earth and brushwood in 
 a veritable sheet of colour; foremost among them, always 
 associated in the mind with Central American scenery, 
 convolvuli, blue of different shades and shapes and sizes, 
 flesh-coloured, white. The forests of the New World 
 seldom show that dim and awful gloom so impressive in 
 tracts of oriental jungle; probably because all the land 
 was densely peopled when the Conquistadores came. 
 But in the older parts, where undergrowth is checked, 
 grey Spanish moss, drooping from the boughs, has much 
 of the same effect. I do not remember where I described 
 the trees thus solemnly caparisoned as " standing like 
 cloaked mourners in procession." I do not now think 
 of a better form of words. 
 
358 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 Through such scenes we made our way, descending 
 always from the tableland, over hills, through steaming 
 valleys, beside the winding brooks, always in forest. 
 The mud was sometimes chest-deep. Sometimes we 
 enjoyed a steeplechase over fallen trees. We climbed 
 up and we slid down, we crossed the treacherous stream 
 a dozen times an hour. Every few moments somebody 
 was down, falling soft in that moist earth, and never 
 injured by the sagacious mules. To observe their clever- 
 ness was a pleasant study, After a short experience we 
 resolutely dropped the reins, hitching them over the 
 high pommel, that man's invention for guiding instinct-^- 
 useless here at best; might not work absolute mischief. 
 And we watched the brutes under us with disinterested 
 admiration. In climbing they were cats; in descending, 
 where they found themselves beaten, they hastily gathered 
 up their legs and slid like trussed rabbits, till mere 
 weight brought them gently to a stand. 
 
 By what instinct our Indian guides found their way 
 is an old problem which constantly arises in such travel, 
 and is never to be solved. After some days' journeying 
 which, as I have said, appear to have been such long 
 days as were occupied with the Creation we came to 
 the Serebpiqui itself, at a point where it is navigable, 
 with luck and Indian paddlers. Two of these were 
 awaiting us, and we embarked. Within ten minutes of 
 starting our canoe entered the great rapid a howling, 
 
A PUMA RUG. 359 
 
 screaming, tumbling waste of water. Oh, that was a 
 fright! A graze, a touch of impediment underneath, 
 would have upset us and upset was death assured. No 
 man could stretch his arms to swim before the current 
 dragged him under, reived him, spitted him upon a snag, 
 beat him to pieces on a rock, tossed his fragments up, 
 and whirled and mouthed him. Rocks these Indians 
 knew, every one. but snags are formed from one instant 
 to another, and no practised vigilance can detect them in 
 that writhing, curling race of waves. 
 
 We shot down like a bubble, and in the foam-flecked 
 reach below our Indians stopped to wipe their brows, to 
 say a prayer of thanksgiving, and to babble with grim 
 laughter in their unknown tongue. I looked about. 
 Something moved by the waterside twenty yards away. 
 Upreared behind a boulder, with his fore-paws resting 
 on it, stood a chesnut- coloured animal, whose beautiful 
 green eyes, full of spite and mischief, were fixed upon 
 us. Its lips drawn back showed milk-white teeth, its 
 whiskers bristled ; it swore at us like an angry cat. 
 Such a charming picture that was, I never forget it 
 the shaded grey rocks around, the little sparks of sun- 
 shine on the fulvous velvet coat, the large green eyes, 
 and the tricksy expression. A rifle stood between my 
 feet, but my right arm was jammed. With a forcible 
 nudge I warned my companion, who fired. The puma 
 bounded several feet, rolled over, showing his white 
 
360 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 belly, and in two long springs went up the bank. He 
 did not appear so graceful when the smallness of his 
 head and the disproportionate size of his paws were 
 revealed in action. 
 
 We landed and found blood, which the experienced 
 Indians pronounced at a glance to be not arterial. At 
 evening we reached the hacienda of La Vergen, where 
 dwelt an enterprising individual who had gone in largely 
 for stock-raising. His market, of course, was Nicaragua ; 
 and the two rivers the Serebpiqui and the San J uan 
 gave him an easy route. Very pretty was the scene, as 
 we viewed it at sundown. A wide savannah edged the 
 stream, with neat loghouses and fences round it. Troops 
 of cattle advanced from the forest edge, already misty, 
 some galloping at clumsy speed, tossing and butting? 
 pursued by savage vaqueros shrilly whooping, who 
 twirled the lariat round their heads and launched its 
 heavy circlet like a whip, or threw the unerring noose. 
 Others moved quietly along, a serried, ponderous mass, 
 outlined by the slanting rays. Each herd went towards 
 its corral, where other horsemen were waiting by the 
 entrance motionless. 
 
 We made for the principal inclosure. A very hand- 
 some woman stood watching us from the door while she 
 nursed her baby. This dame was costumed in the latest 
 fashions which had reached San Jose; it is probable, 
 however, that she knew of our approach. Her husband 
 
A PUMA RUG. 
 
 361 
 
 came to meet us, less accurately but more picturesquely 
 attired, in jacket of Guatemalan manufacture, broad 
 scarlet sash, and high boots. He introduced us to the 
 lady, took us inside, and forthwith produced green 
 aguardiente of his own distilling. The walls were rough 
 logs whitewashed; the floor was a creaking, rattling bed 
 of planks ; the table and the stools were as primitive as 
 they might be. But what epicure who has enjoyed that 
 beverage of the gods, green aguardiente, can look at 
 furniture or surroundings when his cup is full ! 
 
 He was an amusing man, this cattle-breeder, whose 
 name I quite forget. Many droll facts and stories he 
 told us before bedtime, of which I noted down a part. 
 We drew him to the subject of wild beasts^ and our host 
 was nothing less than an illustrated encyclopaedia. He 
 had a pair of tame pumas behind the house, and we 
 sallied forth with lights to visit them. It was beautiful 
 to see the creatures start from sleep, and rear themselves 
 against the bars, their great clear eyes intent with curio- 
 sity. The master put in his hand and scratched them, 
 whilst they arched their backs to press it, purring like 
 cats. No animal has a prettier head, more graceful 
 body, or more velvety paws ; but the proportion is not 
 correct. The head of the puma is too small ; that of the 
 jaguar, its rival, too large and broad. Its body is too 
 long, and its paws are monstrous. These beasts were so 
 perfectly tame that our host would not have confined 
 
362 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 them if there had been no children about the ranche. 
 But none of their species can be trusted with children. 
 
 The puma and the jaguar are the ranchero's special 
 hate ; he calls them lion and tiger. The homestead of 
 La Vergen was surrounded by a narrow belt of forest, 
 which hedged it from a number of savannahs where the 
 herds pastured. All the large carnivora for miles about 
 collected in this strip of woodland, lying in ambush for 
 an ox that strayed beneath the trees. Some took up 
 their quarters permanently until destroyed ; others re- 
 turned home after the meal ; others paid a visit longer 
 or shorter. We asked how on earth these facts were 
 known, and the ranchero confessed that he had no 
 proof; the authority of his Indian hunters satisfied him. 
 Of these he kept a little staff, who turned out every day 
 for service. He paid them wages, and a dollar a-piece 
 head-money for pumas killed, half a dollar for jaguars. 
 
 The tigreros paraded, ugly, squat Indians, with big 
 heads, small grave eyes, and a stupid type of mouth. 
 They all came from Nicaraguan territory, for there are 
 no Indians in Costa Rica, saving the wild tribes of 
 Guatuso and Talamanca so, at least, we were assured. 
 The latter, I fancy, are known well enough. It is not 
 dangerous for a pedlar to visit them, and those anxious 
 to learn their appearance and their manners will find 
 published material that is to say, I think so, for our 
 travels never led us near their country, and, personally, I 
 
A PUMA RUG. 363 
 
 know nothing. The Guatusos or Pranzos are much 
 more savage ; and no man living in that day I cannot 
 tell how it be now could give serious information 
 regarding them. 
 
 A couple of spears, one long and one shorter, make 
 the equipment of the tigrero. His dogs, big, slouching, 
 light-coloured animals, are evidently related to the 
 coyote. Dangerous rather than savage, not prone to 
 bark, they perform the role of house-dogs badly. The 
 Don assured us that puppies will not bark at all unless 
 taught by others. But they learn at once, thus differing 
 from the thorough-bred coyote, which can only howl 
 and whimper in the first generation of domesticity, and 
 seldom succeeds in learning a true bark until the third. 
 
 We asked why a dollar was granted for a slain puma, 
 and but half for a jaguar, seeing that the latter animal 
 is much more dangerous and destructive. It appears 
 that in the fashion of hunting to which these Indians 
 obstinately adhere, the less terrible beast causes the 
 greater loss of life. Tigreros go in couples, the head 
 man in advance with his two spears, the subordinate 
 following with his machete, or chopping-knife. The 
 jaguar is easily tracked, and he does not go far when 
 roused. So soon as it is thoroughly conveyed to his 
 mind that these intruders wish to see him personally, he 
 turns with a roar that always gives sufficient warning 
 to such practised shikaris. A moment afterwards he 
 
364 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 comes trotting up. The foremost Indian kneels, holding 
 a spear in either hand, the long one farthest out his 
 companion stands at the side. The jaguar does not 
 pause, but, gathering himself up, cleaves the air in a 
 mighty bound, his forelegs wide asunder, and claws 
 hooked to rend. Very seldom does it happen that the 
 long spear fails to transfix his unprotected chest, or the 
 shorter one his throat. 
 
 Such is not the puma's conduct. When disturbed, he 
 skulks swiftly through the brushwood, and commonly 
 escapes. In following a jaguar, dogs are seldom hurt, 
 for he disregards them, and they have no need to press 
 him. But the puma turns constantly, massacres a 
 hound, and speeds on again. Even if wounded he is 
 slow to stand; but when brought to bay at length it is 
 a more deadly risk to face him. For this combat the 
 spears are useless. Springing with his paws crossed, 
 the puma would dash them aside. His feet firmly 
 planted, knife in his left hand, machete in his right, the 
 Indian stands forward. He has one blow in mid-air. 
 If it fails, if the skull be not cleft like an apple, brute 
 and man roll over in a hideous embrace. At such a 
 time the comrade seldom wanted in jaguar- hunting 
 would be invaluable. But when an Indian sets out 
 intentionally to track a puma he goes alone. So did 
 his fathers and so does he. 
 
 Very, very rarely a jaguar springs with his paws 
 
A PUMA RUG. 365 
 
 crossed, and then there is wailing in the tigrero's hut. 
 For the spears upon which he relied are twisted from 
 his grasp, and the huge beast falls upon him kneeling. 
 If the compadre with the machete be true, the tiger 
 has probably two victims instead of one. The single 
 chance of these poor Indians lies with their dogs, and it 
 is but a very small one. Jaguars with this uncomfort- 
 able habit are scarce, however if it be more than an 
 accident. None of the ranchero's Indians had seen a 
 case, though that fact proves little. Witnesses of the 
 phenomenon rarely survive. 
 
 Still a third reason was furnished us for the higher 
 reward, besides expenditure of dogs and greater risk. 
 The puma has a horrid habit of following a human trail. 
 The same practice has been charged against the true 
 lion. There is no doubt that the former animal has 
 it. The motive is not so apparent as might be fancied 
 at a glance. It is evidently an instinct. Should this 
 animal, prowling through the woods, come across man's 
 footsteps, he follows them, though they be days old; 
 provided, I imagine, that the scent have not yet dis- 
 persed. My own Indians pointed out to me an instance 
 where I took their assurance for it the man had 
 passed three days before, and the puma within tw 
 hours. It may be the cunning creature knows it likely 
 that where man has gone something eatable alive or 
 dead may be discovered. He is not above gnawing a 
 
366 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 stray bone. But I have no serious suggestion to offer. 
 Be the motive what it may, the practice leads directly or 
 indirectly to the death of many travellers belated in the 
 woods. And it causes the puma to be regarded with a 
 shuddering hate which the more ferocious jaguar does 
 not inspire. 
 
 When I add that the trail of these two animals is 
 distinguished one from the other by a small heap of 
 earth which the puma's forepaw throws up behind, I 
 think I have exhausted all my memoranda of the hints 
 which our skilful ranchero poured forth. There is 
 something characteristic in this detail of the footprint 
 also. The pads of either brute are almost alike in size, 
 though the tiger be so much bigger and heavier. But 
 he goes along with a free bold stride, whilst the other 
 crouches and crawls, his head down pressed between the 
 shoulders, all his weight thrown on the forelegs. Thus 
 they sink deep, and leave a tiny hillock of moist soil 
 behind them. 
 
 The lore of venerie unrolled by our kindly host was 
 illustrated with stories. He himself gave all his mind 
 to war against the puma, leaving the jaguar to his 
 tigreros. Caring only to have the brutes destroyed, in- 
 sensible to the pleasures of the chase, he found this 
 system judicious. For, as he used a rifle, an immense 
 expenditure of time was saved. And the habits of the 
 
A PUMA RUG. 367 
 
 puma mentioned divest its pursuit of danger if fireaims 
 be used as a rule, understood. 
 
 We had diverged to the subject of black lions, an 
 animal whose existence has been denied. The ranchero 
 had nothing decisive to advance on this disputed ques- 
 tion. He heard with astonishment and contempt that 
 European savants doubted. Black pumas, he alleged, 
 are as well authenticated as black jaguars. He had 
 never killed one. Such skins as had come beneath 
 his notice were very large truly, as large as the black 
 jaguar's. But he laughed scornfully at the idea that 
 any woodsman could make a mistake. And the testi- 
 mony of one so experienced impressed us. 
 
 " One day," said our host, " news came to hand that 
 two of my calves had been seized by a black lion. It 
 was at the furthest pasture, some ten miles out. In the 
 afternoon I rode thither with my dogs, to sleep at the 
 vaquero's hut, and follow the creature in the morning. 
 All the herd was brought into the corral. Soon after 
 dusk arose a great commotion, the cows running together, 
 the bulls charging and furiously skirmishing round them. 
 We turned out beyond the corral-paling, you under- 
 stand. It is a big inclosure, and the night was very 
 dark. Noise enough there was already to scare all 
 honest lions in the world ; but on a sudden rose such 
 tumult as sinful creatures make in purgatory. Cattle 
 bellowed and roared, women screamed ; then a multitude 
 
368 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 of galloping hoofs shook the ground, and timbers crashed ! 
 All my herd streamed through the fence, tearing over 
 the misty plain. Fortunately, none of us stood in their 
 way. 
 
 "Nothing could be done that night, and I went back 
 mad. That four-legged demon had sprung or climbed 
 the railing, snatched a young calf under its mother's 
 belly, and vanished ; you must know that she was 
 tied against the house wall. Some Indian women saw it 
 fly down among them, as they said, its great eyes burn- 
 ing like lamps; saw it crouch a second growling, staring 
 at them, seize the calf beneath its struggling mother, 
 and fly back. I knew too well that more of my young 
 stock would be missing before dawn. 
 
 " Sending to the ranche for more vaqueros, I went to 
 bed. Next day all turned out early the Indians to 
 search for my poor cattle, I -to pursue the lion. His 
 trail was followed easy enough." 
 
 " A moment ! " my companion exclaimed. " Did you 
 notice whether it was a puma's track by the sign you 
 have described to us? 5 ' 
 
 " No. The dogs lifted it instantly, and I followed 
 at a canter. At the forest edge I left my horse. The 
 hounds had a long start all but that old perro yonder, 
 who waited for me." He pointed to an ancient dog, 
 grey and scarred, the only one admitted to the house, 
 of breed more European than the curs outside. 
 
A PUMA UUG. 369 
 
 " I heard the pack quarreling and snarling a long 
 way off, and I knew what it meant. They had found 
 the remains of that black devil's supper, and were 
 dividing the fragments. I was not much vexed, how- 
 ever; he would leave little of a sucking-calf. It took me 
 more than half an hour to reach the spot, for there was 
 an ugly bit of swamp to circumvent. When I got 
 there not a dog remained, and the bones not of one 
 but of three calves strewed the earth. It had been his 
 regular dining-room for three nights, ever since he made 
 his appearance on my land. That told that his lair was 
 not far off probably, and I decided to search for it, 
 though the one dog left me was rather demoralised by 
 a scrap or two of meat, snatched on the sly whilst I was 
 hunting round. 
 
 " I kicked him off, and he began to smell in a larger 
 circle. The trail was struck in a moment, of course, 
 and we set on. I knew I could depend on that faithful 
 perro not to outrun me, and I was rather warm to face 
 a black lion, when one has need of a steady hand. So 
 I went quietly. 
 
 " It was further off than I expected. After two hours' 
 tramp through the woods I saw it was probable the 
 brute had his den by the river. But long before we got 
 there my dog became anxious and uncertain. I could 
 see the track quite plain, but he did not follow readily, 
 looking behind him, pausing and growling. I thought 
 
 2 B 
 
370 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 that taste of flesh disturbed his mind, and urged him 
 along, but more and more unwillingly he travelled, with 
 such odd movements as alarmed me, for I thought him 
 going mad. Suddenly he turned, rushed past me barking 
 savagely, his hair on end. Very glad to see him go, I 
 sat down to rest, while he took a long start, and I con- 
 sidered what to do. 
 
 " The perro's cry grew fainter and fainter. Then his 
 note changed to the querulous worrying and snarling, 
 with a loud long bark now and again, which tell the 
 master that his dog wants help with a dangerous quarry 
 I guessed how it was in that moment. Whilst I fol- 
 lowed the lion's old trail, it had been following me ! I 
 ran back. The perro was working further from our 
 path. Luckily I struck at once the spot where he had 
 branched away, but it was slow lifting his track through 
 the forest. I had made up my mind to return when the 
 clamour changed to yelps and howls the lion had 
 faced about, struck down my dog, and perhaps was 
 tearing him. As fast as possible I hurried on. 
 
 u But if lions mean killing, all is over in an instant 
 when they have their victim down, and the perro's 
 miserable yells showed him to be still alive. After a 
 while I came up. See the marks ! " We observed two 
 deep scars on the dog's left shoulder, and two slighter 
 ones ; two rugged punctures on the right. There the 
 puma's claws had grasped whilst he struck. 
 
A PUMA RUG. 371 
 
 " The children loved my dog, and no artery was cut. 
 I shredded some Spanish moss, bound up his wounds, 
 slung him in my scarf, and set out for home ; so far had 
 we wandered that it was nearer than the corral. I am 
 strong, senores, but the sun was hot, and a dog is heavy 
 on one's shoulders. No path led through the forest, and 
 I could not feel sure, not being an Indian, that I was 
 following the true course. A hundred times I thought of 
 dropping the poor animal, but I had not the heart when 
 he licked my neck, and I remembered what his fate 
 would be, devoured alive by ants and flies. 
 
 " Presently he became restless, and then he growled. 
 1 It needs many lessons to teach a fool,' says the proverb. 
 I hit him with my elbow, but he would not be quiet. 
 He began to bark feebly, gathering up his limbs, poor 
 beast ! I suddenly caught the hint, and turned. At a 
 few yards' distance the bushes softly swayed beside my 
 track ! That lion was following again ! I looked to 
 my rifle, and set forward. In ten minutes the growl- 
 ing re-commenced, and the dog's excitement grew 
 stronger and stronger. The brute was creeping up ! I 
 cocked my gun, faced round, but that devil was quicker ! 
 Nothing could be seen but the waving of the twigs. I 
 fired a chance shot to no effect, and resumed my way, 
 after loading. For a long while all was quiet. I gained 
 the river-bank, and was working down, relieved of all 
 
 2B2 
 
372 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 anxiety, for the spot was familiar. In an hour I should 
 be at home. 
 
 " Beyond a broad belt of reeds and swampy ground 
 lay the clearing. That was an ugly bit to traverse with 
 a lion at one's heels, and I congratulated myself he had 
 run away. One could not see a yard on either hand 
 when, half-way through, the perro growled and barked 
 and struggled in greater agitation than before ! I cried 
 to the saints, and the sweat poured down. When I 
 turned, the reeds were all bending and quivering but five 
 yards away! I shot, and hurried on, but the ground 
 was difficult. In a few moments the dog again gave 
 warning, and the reeds swayed all about. I shot! But 
 now the dog did not cease to raise such feeble clamour 
 as he could, and I shot as fast as I could load. Madre 
 di Dios, sefiores, what a run that was ! 
 
 " The firing saved me ! Two vaqueros resting in the 
 shade knew the sound of my piece, and came to meet 
 me hallooing. The perro was almost choked in con- 
 vulsions by this time, and I believe that lion had just 
 gathered himself to spring when their shouts alarmed 
 him. 
 
 " Now, senores ! What was the creature that pursued 
 me thus, in broad daylight, though I fired into its very 
 jaws ? " 
 
 " Might it not have been a jaguar ? " I asked, timidly. 
 
 " You are ignorant of our woodcraft, seiior ! Why 
 
A PUMA RUG. 373 
 
 should a tiger follow a man? The brute was not 
 hungry, for it left my dog. And if a tiger had be- 
 haved in that way he would have sprung as soon as 
 he came up. No ! It was a lion but a black one ! " 
 
 " Did you follow its trail ? " 
 
 " I could not find a tigrero till next day. . Then the 
 footsteps were tracked for miles after it left me, going 
 straight for the hills. The Indians saw it was travelling, 
 and returned. We have had no alarm of black lions 
 since. And from that time, sen ores, I have understood 
 how a kind action does not go unrewarded. For, if I 
 had abandoned my dog, I should never have reached 
 home that day." 
 
 When we left in the dawn, that excellent ranchero 
 presented each of us with a puma skin. Mine is still an 
 ornament of the bungalow. 
 
374 
 
 A BIT OF AN OLD STORY. 
 
 DOES a true drama of human life ever work to a 
 climax and end fittingly ? Does one romance in a mil- 
 lion reach any end whatever, save interruption and 
 oblivion? I fear not. Poetic justice, so my own expe- 
 rience tells, is confined to poetic processes, and the only 
 romance which terminates properly is that which began 
 unperceived, unimagined, and unstudied. I have had 
 occasion to observe many dramatic commencements and 
 many dramatic conclusions. But all, though more or 
 less effective of themselves, were disconnected. 
 
 Two years ago I told the story of a mantel-piece in my 
 possession, how I ordered it from a potter in Multan, 
 and how I gave him directions for an inscription which 
 he did not follow.* When the object reached me, 
 though it was pretty enough, I found that the Persian 
 words were not those I had ordered. Upon inquiry, I 
 learned that the Sunni fanatics of Multan raised a riot 
 against my potter a Shiah and a Persian and smashed 
 * Legends of My Bungalow " A Mantel-piece." 
 
A BIT OF AN OLD STORT. 375 
 
 his stock. Foremost among the malefactors was an 
 Afridi Pathan, whom avenging neighbours pursued. He 
 took refuge in a garden and fell asleep. Heavenly 
 beings appeared to him there, and when he woke he 
 found two bracelets on his chest. The Afridi was ar- 
 rested that night for his share in the disturbance, and 
 in court he produced these jewels, of beauty more than 
 human artificers can fashion, as he showed. They were 
 his glory and his defence. Allah approved his deed, 
 and it was for earthly governors to bow. 
 
 The magistrate did not question Allah's authority, 
 but he impounded the bracelets. A rich merchant of 
 the town chanced to be in court. His change of face 
 when they were handed round drew the magistrate's 
 attention, but he steadily denied all knowledge of them. 
 This mystery remained undecided. For his disorderly 
 conduct the prisoner was sentenced to a month's hard 
 labour, and three months more in default of his share 
 towards compensating the potter. Meantime, the brace- 
 lets were handed to Sayyid Farid-ud-din for exposure 
 in some public but sacred place, where the owner might 
 recognise them, if earthly owner they had. Farid-ud- 
 din was chief of the moollahs who attend the Bahawal 
 Hak, the tomb of the great Multan saint. 
 
 So rested matters when I told my story. Friends, 
 whom I had begged to keep me informed, wrote that 
 the things remained without a claimant when Zahad 
 
376 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 recovered liberty. No further news reached me, and 
 I supposed that this romance, as usual, had broken off 
 at the end of the first chapter. But on returning from 
 Egypt the other day I found a continuation, very wel- 
 come, though it does not upset my sad theory. 
 
 On his return from jail, Zahad hastened to demand 
 his blessed prize. Imprisonment had left him no sense 
 of disgrace. It is the function of magistrates to perse- 
 cute. Zahad was fresh from his mountain home, a 
 shrewd and resolute young giant, quite unacquainted 
 with civilisation. He was not religious, few Pathans 
 are ; but superstitious, and fanatical, and overbearing, 
 as are all his kin. Islam is less a creed for them than a 
 banner and a token. But for it they are glad to die. 
 
 Farid-ud-din dwelt in a ruinous but substantial man- 
 sion by the Fort. The Bahawal Hak, of which he was 
 chief guardian, stands within the fortified enceinte, but 
 the old gates were never closed at this time. With 
 difficulty Zahad obtained an audience, for he was 
 ragged and dirty. But the Sayyid's tone changed 
 when he understood who was his visitor. He aban- 
 doned his air of lofty unconcern, uncrossed his legs, 
 and descended with grave and respectful salaams ; con- 
 ducted Zahad to the corner seat of the divan, and called 
 for coffee. 
 
 " The blessed bracelets," said he, " are safe in the 
 Bahawal Hak, lying upon the sacred tomb itself. All 
 
A BIT OF AN OLD STORY. 377 
 
 the faithful reverence them ! Be not puffed up, oh 
 youth ! nor disdain the counsels of the aged. When I 
 heard of this event, I sought in prayer and deep reflec- 
 tion why you should have been favoured above all the 
 pious of the city. The Merciful One heard my anxious 
 communings, and he revealed his purpose. Great and 
 dangerous service it is your privilege to render Islam, 
 oh Zahad Afridi I" 
 
 "Tell me Heaven's will, oh Sayyid!" exclaimed 
 the Pathan, fervently. " Though it lead through flame 
 and blood I will pursue it ! " 
 
 " It is written that he who wins heavenly favour walks 
 along the edge of hell ! Allah has signalled you out for 
 his service, and beware of slackness ! Listen, my son ! 
 The infidels are full of boasting and vanity, under the 
 accursed English rule! Beside our holy tomb stands 
 their idol-house, where the dogs worship wood and stone. 
 Our forefathers destroyed it again and again ; but for 
 money, and for the revenue it produces, they allowed it 
 to be restored. Allah has judged them ! Ranjit Singh, 
 that Shaitan, turned it into a magazine, and the English 
 blew it up when Mulraj Mai Khan whose name is 
 grateful Idefended the city. Under protection of the 
 Christians the infidels rebuilt it, and deluded Kaffirs 
 from every part swelled their torments hereafter by sub- 
 scribing to make it glorious exceedingly. There is now 
 a scheme afoot of incredible profanity. Those children 
 
378 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 of the Devil point the finger at our sacred shrine. They 
 say, The Faithful One, Sheikh Baha-ud-din in whose 
 name all the world finds peace! lies under a lofty 
 dome, whilst our foul and degraded idol-house is flat. 
 Let us arise and bestir ourselves ! The accursed English 
 are our friends and fellow-dogs ! There are great and 
 rich men of our shameful persuasion who will find us 
 money before passing to their doom ! Let us build a 
 spire ten times as high as the dome of Bahawal Hak ! 
 So all the world shall see that our gods of human manu- 
 facture trample upon holy Islam, and laugh at the 
 Faithful !' That is their project, oh, my son !" 
 Zahad started up. 
 
 " Where is this idol-house ? Where are the vile un- 
 believers ? " 
 
 " Stay, stay, impetuous youth ! Nothing yet is done ! 
 They are gathering the money and the stones, collecting 
 masons, preparing designs. There is time to warn them 
 that if they persist in this unparalleled wickedness, brave 
 men and pious will sacrifice their lives before it shall 
 succeed. To give them such notice is your first task." 
 
 Zahad undertook it at once. He learned that a cer' 
 tain Manich Chanda was the most zealous advocate of 
 the scheme. His blood aglow at this threatened insult 
 to the faith, the Afridi rose. 
 
 '' Give me t.he heavenly jewels," he said, " and I 
 will be doing ! " 
 
A BIT OF AN OLD STORY. 379 
 
 "Nay, my son! Had the All- Wise designed you 
 should have them now, how should the Collector-sahib 
 have taken them from you ? They are a promise, not 
 a reward as yet. You may see and adore them as do 
 others, fervently, in this desperate time, but such an 
 inestimable gift has still to be deserved." 
 
 Zahad flared with rage sudden and deadly, but the 
 Sayyid put out his hands, and repeated the Feteha, the 
 Beginning, that verse of utmost sanctity which awes the 
 faithful hearer though he be mad with passion. Zahad 
 went out fuming, and made his way to the house of 
 Manich Chanda. The merchant was away on business, 
 and his servants, insultingly suspicious of the big ragged 
 Pathan, would not say when their master was expected, 
 Jn fierce passion Zahad strode away. As he passed the 
 corner of the house a scarf fluttered down from the 
 balcony, and lightly veiled his head. 
 
 I picture the scene. Manich Chanda lived in a great 
 blank house, gaudy here and there with paint half- 
 effaced. Its windowless wall occupied one side the alley. 
 Within and above its high portal, carvings and fretted 
 ornaments of wood, cut almost as fine as lace in designs 
 of intricate beauty, alone suggested the wealth inside. 
 Opposite stood another gateway, as elaborate and as 
 lofty ; but the walls that held it were broken and weed- 
 grown, surrounding piles of rubbish that had once been 
 a stately house. Its demolition gave the sunrays access 
 
380 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 to the overhanging balconies, of exquisite woodwork, 
 that adorned the upper story of Manich Chanda's 
 dwelling. It was a glorious burst of light in the 
 shadowed alley. Above and lower down, such balconies 
 almost met from either side, and the sky was a narrow 
 strip between. But at the end lay an expanse, bathed 
 in blinding sunshine, with market-people in a thousand 
 tints of drapery. And beyond, above them, towered 
 the lofty gate, pink in the sun, black in keen shadow, 
 its opening filled with the living green of trees beyond 
 the moat. 
 
 No soul was visible in the dark alley. Zahad took the 
 scarf with awe, and stood, his lithe figure poised, his 
 blue eyes interrogating Heaven with rapture. That 
 this was a second sign he never thought of doubting. 
 He did not glance at the balcony overhead. Had he 
 done so, not even his hawk-eyes could have pierced the 
 small gaps of delicate tracery, behind which two girls 
 watched him, laughing and trembling. No hint of 
 Allah's meaning descended from the radiant sky. Zahad 
 examined the celestial scarf. It was not less beautiful 
 than the bracelets, not less evidently work beyond human 
 skill. So light and soft was the material that he could 
 crumple it all up between his palms; the gold woven 
 cunningly in its texture alone gave it weight to fall. 
 
 Zahad found voice. As he feverishly twisted the holy 
 object round his head he recited prayers ; and then he 
 
A BIT OF AN OLD STORY. 381 
 
 strode towards the light and throng, with the gait of 
 one who has a mission from on high. His cries grew 
 louder. " Lah-ullah ul-lah-hu!" he yelled, bursting 
 from the alley mouth. 
 
 An officer-sahib was riding by; with a quick move- 
 ment he hitched his revolver more convenient to the 
 hand, and undid the strap. The market-people gathered 
 about Zahad in alarm and curiosity. An old Sikh 
 policeman pushed to the front. 
 
 4 'None of that, Afridi!" he remarked in his equiva- 
 lent for the familiar warning of our " Bobby," " or I 
 shall run you in ! " 
 
 u You will run me in, dog ! Me, the chosen of 
 Allah ! Listen to it, ye faithful ! Lah-ullah ul-lah-hu !' ' 
 
 The Afridi had no weapon, and the old Sikh cared 
 little for his inches and his flaming eyes he had faced 
 such in youth, and had seen them cower and dim before 
 the steady press of the soldiers of the Khalsa. Without 
 more words he closed. Other police came running up. 
 Zahad snatched a steel-yard from a booth close by, and 
 slung its heavy weight round his head with giant 
 strength. The policemen stood an instant. Zahad 
 yelled without ceasing, and whirled his tremendous 
 club. The crowd, three-fourths Moslem, began to take 
 fire. " Lah-ullah !" many cried, and the ominous " Din! 
 din!" began to mutter. It was an anxious time at 
 Multan in the beginning of last year. The officer 
 
382 ON THE BORDERLAND- 
 
 spurred his horse, broke through, and rained cutting 
 blows on the Afridi with his heavy riding-whip. 
 
 Zahad was brave and high-spirited like all his race. 
 At this moment he felt within him all the strength of 
 Heaven's support. But for such attack he was not pre- 
 pared. A very young man, brought up with severe 
 home-discipline, yields by instinct to the whip, though 
 swords and bullets would not daunt him. Quick as a 
 pulse-beat he would have recovered his presence of mind, 
 but in the moment's hesitation the police sprang forward 
 and bore him down. 
 
 Next day he appeared again before the court, on a charge 
 of disorderly conduct in the market-place. The sense of 
 divine protection rather failed him now. A Christian 
 in like case might not have been disconcerted, since he 
 would understand it possible that the favour of Heaven 
 should display itself in his humiliation. But such ideas 
 cannot occur for a Moslem's comfort. Zahad perceived 
 and humbly admitted to himself that he had made a 
 mess of it somehow. Sayyid Farid-ud-din stood amongst 
 the audience, and his grave face poured rebuke upon the 
 prisoner. 
 
 The magistrate delivered a lecture which Zahad heard 
 in silence, his head erect ; wherever lay the mistake, this 
 Kaffir knew nothing about it. He was fined two rupees, 
 and bound over to keep the peace. Zahad did net own 
 a cowrie nor a friend, but a householder unknown to him 
 
A BIT OF AN OLD STORY. 383 
 
 stepped forward, and did all that was necessary. When 
 discharged, the Afridi asked for his scarf. Nobody had 
 seen it. He began to make a disturbance, but the police 
 closed in, the unknown friend took his arm, Zahad sub- 
 mitted, crestfallen and despairing. He said not a word, 
 but his sighs were of that volume the Oriental alone can 
 heave, and he walked in semi-consciousness. What un- 
 precedented torments would be allotted in the other 
 world to one who had enjoyed such blessed grace and 
 had proved himself unw.orthy by acts of thoughtless 
 indiscretion! 
 
 They reached the Sayyid's house, and found him just 
 within the door, as if to receive an honoured guest. Zahad 
 threw himself on the ground. 
 
 u Well said you, holy man, that he who is favoured 
 by Heaven, walks along the brink of hell. I may not 
 sit beside the lowest of the Faithful. Let me lie in the 
 dust." 
 
 The Sayyid did not press the point. He sat on th e 
 divan whilst Zahad lay along the floor, and probably he 
 thought their respective positions quite fitting. With 
 great interest he heard of the new manifestation, and 
 pondered it gravely. 
 
 " Allah has indeed marked you for great deeds," he 
 said, " but not yet. Go to Gujrat and meditate in soli- 
 tude six months. I will give you letters to Pit Shah 
 Daula, the sainted recluse, who dwels in Gujrat. I will 
 
384 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 give you also money for the journey. Stay with that 
 holiest of men until it is revealed to me to send for you. 
 Go to-night." 
 
 4i May I look upon the bracelets ? " 
 
 "You may hold them in your hand whilst I myself 
 conduct the evening service." 
 
 The day was not Friday, and innovation on the fixed 
 ceremonial of Islam is so rare that Zahad thrilled again. 
 They went together to the Bawahal Hak. The heavenly 
 tokens, wrapped in a cloth of gold, were placed in Zahad's 
 hands, and the Sayyid took his station at the mihrab. 
 News of the strange event had spread, and the mosque 
 was crowded. What feverish visions and what agonising 
 fears alternated in the Afridi's soul I am not equal to 
 imagining. The words recited by the priest were unin- 
 telligible to him as to all others, but they were sounds 
 that stirred the blood by fervid association. And then 
 Farid-ud-din ascended the minber to preach. His sermon 
 differed only from those the Faithful heard every week 
 by a grander style and an air of significance not less im- 
 pressive because vague. He spoke of the glorious time 
 when this city was a bulwark of the faith ; when the 
 infidel, though magnanimously suffered to live, dwelt in 
 subjection and reverence. He alluded to the persecution 
 of the Sikh conquerors, which many of his audience fired 
 to remember, and he cautiously hinted that times of still 
 ^greater humiliation might be at hand unless the Moslem 
 
A BIT OF AN OLD STORY. 385 
 
 turned zealously to Allah and his Prophet, who had 
 promised that none should prevail against those who 
 kept the faith. As he finished, every eye was glowing, 
 every heart burning with passion. Most of those present 
 knew what infidel schemes were referred to, and they 
 vowed, in whispers and sobs, then in hysterical shouting, 
 that the Moslem would all perish before their saint's 
 dome should be overtopped by an idolatrous spire. 
 
 That night Zahad departed for Gujrat, and he dwelt 
 for six months with Pir Shah Daula. The later time 
 was one continued ecstatic trance. When, after long 
 penance, the saint declared that Heaven was mollified, 
 forthwith Zahad began to experience delights unknown. 
 He saw and he felt the joys reserved for the Faithful 
 after death the flowers of unearthly fragrance, the 
 black-eyed girls of beauty more than human, the ma- 
 jestic poetry of angels' converse, the light of the very 
 sun itself, the jewels and gold ; above all, the thrilling 
 sense of life immortal won by virtue and devotion. 
 Then he learned for a truth, that is felt not repeated, 
 that this lower world is nothing, its pleasures and its 
 pains of equal unimportance, contemptible alike. To 
 him, in this frame of mind, came one day the order to 
 return to Multan. 
 
 The Hindoos had been active there and successful. 
 Their co-religionists had subscribed, masons and ma- 
 terials had been collected ; the walls of the temple 
 
 2c 
 
386 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 strengthened to bear an enormous increase of weight 
 The Mahomedan population had petitioned Government 
 against this sacrilege. They had gathered outside the 
 Collector-sahib's compound, and shouted threats. Go- 
 vernment was alarmed and embarrassed. But it could 
 not stultify the principles on which its rule is based by 
 denying to one religion a dignity accorded to the other. 
 It could only return warning for menace, increase the 
 garrison, keep the police alert, and wait for overt acts. 
 
 The population of Multan, Hindoo and Mussulman 
 alike, have been in all time noted for the heat and 
 obstinacy of their religious convictions. No district of 
 India has suffered persecution so frequent and so severe, 
 nor has any endured its fate with such ferocious obsti- 
 nacy. Although the Mahomedans were supreme for 
 seven centuries and a half, they daunted the fanaticism 
 of the subject race. Again and again riots and outrages 
 against holy Islam caused an indiscriminate massacre. 
 On one occasion, Aurungzeb, out of all patience, ordered 
 ten thousand Hindoos to be slain, and the order was 
 zealously obeyed ; but upon his death disturbances began 
 again. Nowhere else in India has Brahmanism shown 
 such spirit, though every district has its legend of heroic 
 stubbornness. The Sikhs, who tamed Afridis and 
 Shinwaris, making the Khyber Pass as safe as a street, 
 did something to lay the devils who possess Multan. 
 In the reckless and scornful oppression which those 
 
A BIT OF AN OLD STO11Y. 387 
 
 sabreurs imposed on Moslem and Hindu alike, the 
 sufferers learned in some degree that they were fellow- 
 countrymen. But when the Sikhs perceived a faint 
 rapprochement they exploded it with ease. A prudent 
 iear of English magistrates, who do not massacre, but 
 prosaically hang and fine, imprison and transport to 
 the Andamans, have kept fanatics in awe more or less 
 since the annexation. The police have promptly sup- 
 pressed little rows and demonstrations which would 
 have gathered force until they set the town ablaze. But 
 in this matter of raising a spire on Prahladpuri Temple 
 Hindoos stood within the law, though they acted in the 
 old spirit, knowing well that a storm would rise. 
 
 Zahad made his way to the Sayyid's house through 
 streets thronged with Moslem, sullen and threatening 
 Hindoos exulting and defiant. No blow had yet been 
 struck, but desperate elements were mustering. Excited 
 groups of leading Moslem stood about Farid-ud-din's 
 door. Zahad learned that the holy man had been sum- 
 moned by the Collector-sahib an hour ago. He waited 
 until the Sayyid came back with a train of Faithful. 
 After these he pressed in, with many others. When the 
 small room below and the court-yard were full, Farid-ud- 
 din made a speech, which those could hear who could 
 not see the orator. 
 
 He said in brief: "I waited on the Collector-sahib, 
 the General- sahib was with him. The Collector called 
 2c 2 
 
388 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 on me to preserve the peace. I answered, * How shall I 
 control the Faithful when their livers are inflamed with 
 a sense of wrong? I have no soldiers.' The Collector- 
 sahib replied: 4 They have no wrongs, and, if they think 
 they have, it is you and your fellows who have irritated 
 them. This is no time, oh Sayyid, for a delicate choice 
 of words. The Sircar has been watching you, and, if 
 disturbances follow, it knows whom to hold responsible.* 
 What a monstrous charge, ye Faithful ! Have I urged 
 any of you to seek justice for outraged Islam by means 
 other than legal? I said to the Collector-sahib, * My 
 enemies have abused your candour, oh father of the 
 people ! The Faithful of Multan need no hints or guiding 
 when their holy places are insulted. I, on the contrary, 
 have done my best to restrain their pious indignation. 
 We know the English rule it is heavy on Islam, but 
 not unjust/ He answered, * I have spoken !' And the 
 General-sahib added : ' I warn you that my soldiers, 
 Moslem and Poorbeah, will shoot without distinction, 
 let who will begin the riot ! And do you look to it, 
 oh Sayyid, for a green turban will be no safety.' So 
 the General-sahib spoke, in contempt of that colour 
 which marks me, unworthy as I am, for a descendant of 
 the Blessed One. But, since such is the tone of the 
 powerful, in the hearing of you all I adjure the Faithful 
 to disperse and go quietly to their homes, relying on the 
 justice and tenderness and respect of the Sircar towards 
 
A BIT OF AN OLD STORY. 389 
 
 Islam, which have been long apparent to all who can 
 see, and are now plain even to the blind. Go quietly, 
 friends! Allah does not need your arms. He can 
 avenge himself by ways mysterious to our feeble minds. 
 Go in confidence." 
 
 The crowd filed away murmuring a significant acquieg 
 cence. They belonged to the trading class which naturally 
 prefers to entrust its cause to Heaven, if that may be done 
 decently, rather than make disturbances. Zahad remained 
 in his place. After awhile, those intimate friends de- 
 parted who had stayed whispering with the Sayyid. 
 They looked at the Afridi curiously, but did not speak 
 to him. 
 
 Then Farid-ud-din came up with a weary air. His 
 foot was on the steps leading to the upper story when 
 Zahad called his attention. He hurriedly turned back. 
 " When did you arrive ? Have you shown yourself in 
 the street ? Come up ! " The Sayyid added, glancing 
 round suspiciously: " The moment of devotion is at 
 hand! Hush!" 
 
 1 They went up the stairs, passed round the central well 
 which looked on the court below protected by a balus- 
 trade of dainty carving and through several apart- 
 ments. The magnificence of them struck Zahad with 
 awe. To us they would have seemed close and un- 
 wholesome, tawdrily furnished, though many of the odd 
 articles were lovely and tasteful in themselves. To a 
 
390 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 rich Hindoo they would have seemed commonplace. 
 But the Afridi was amazed. Such things as he saw 
 there on earth were the plenishing of Heaven in his 
 dreams. Twice a door opened suddenly, and a girl- 
 child's joyful face appeared. At sight of a stranger it 
 vanished in alarm, and Zahad heard merry chatter, but 
 his quick mountain-eye remarked jewels, gold-wrought 
 silks, and dainty luxury, scarce, as he thought, terrestrial. 
 
 They reached a distant chamber, and then, after such 
 words as roused the Afridi's blood, the Sayyid disclosed 
 his plan. It was radical. He suggested that Zahad 
 should blow up Prahladpuri Temple, with means and 
 under circumstances arranged with minute skill which 
 could scarcely fail. Zahad consented with enthusiasm to 
 play his part, and his host left him, sending in choice 
 food by an ancient slave-woman. 
 
 But although the Afridi agreed with warmth, he was 
 conscious that the proposal would have been otherwise 
 acceptable a few days before. He had no longer real 
 delight in the idea of risking his life for the glory of 
 Islam. The direct influence of Allah, so to speak, had 
 vanished from the undertaking, which became an opera- 
 tion of mere war. As such the Afridi welcomed it, 
 but there are neither Houris nor ecstacies in such 
 work. And as the hours passed by this scene of dis- 
 illusion grew stronger. Zahad had been used to sleep a 
 great deal under the saint's tuition, and his dreams had 
 
A BIT OF AN OLD STORY. 391 
 
 been divine. Whilst his eyes were open, and his senses 
 abnormally keen, he enjoyed broken visions. But now 
 he could not sleep, he had no waking visions. The de- 
 sire of his body was to lie still, and his mind was flat as 
 his limbs. 
 
 Two days he endured this misery, which became pain- 
 ful ; then he confided his state to Farid-ud-din. If only 
 he could get abroad for a few hours to enjoy the sun- 
 shine and the crowd it seemed to the imprisoned moun- 
 taineer that he would be all himself. The Sayyid would 
 not hear of this too grave interests were at stake, and 
 the police too busy. He preferred to try medicine, and 
 his remedies were potent. Zahad felt again the enthu- 
 siasm and the self-devotion which had thrilled him. He 
 penetrated to the throne of Allah's self, and saw the ut- 
 most joys accorded to the Ghazi, the martyr. They were 
 too keen for endurance. After raving and bounding in 
 his cell, he rushed out and created dire alarm through 
 the purdah. Farid-ud-din was powerless to control the 
 fervid young giant. Consigning his household to remote 
 and most uncomfortable places of concealment, he left 
 Zahad free to roam through the mansion. And after 
 awhile, when he had ransacked the place in a strange 
 frame of shrewd observation and mystic extravagance, 
 the Afridi fell asleep. He awoke infinitely more 
 wretched than before, so depressed and incredulous that 
 he thought his whole story an illusion. In pure alarm, 
 
392 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 the Sayyid consented to let his prisoner out for a few 
 hours. 
 
 Events had ripened during the latter days. The build- 
 ing of the spire had actually begun, and the Moslem 
 were waiting in despair, the Hindoos in confidence, for 
 the Government's final answer upon the question of right. 
 It was expected that afternoon, and a disturbance would 
 so certainly follow, whatever the decision, that troops 
 had been moved from the cantonment, and posted in 
 central spots. 
 
 Zahad's feverish mind felt sympathy with the alarmed 
 and excited throng. He strolled for hours, neither 
 speaking nor spoken to* The consciousness of a superior 
 fate inspired him with contempt for those fussy talkers. 
 Whilst they were rioting and bandying sticks, he would 
 triumphantly solve the question by himself. What feeble 
 fools are talkers beside the man of action ! But the man 
 of action is generally pleased to see a crowd of interested 
 lookers-on, whose mere helplessness is an acknowledg- 
 ment of his supremacy. 
 
 Towards evening a rumour spread. The Lieutenant- 
 Governor in Council had considered the Moslem protest, 
 and given a final reply. The Hindoos stood within 
 their legal right in embellishing Prahladpuri at their 
 own cost. The Government would restrain any attempt 
 to outrage Mahomedan feeling, and it invited the Faith- 
 ful to await with patience its action in this matter. 
 
A BIT OF AN OLD STORY. 393 
 
 '. Then the streets cleared suddenly. As by a word of 
 command the Moslem slipped away, and the Hindoos, 
 finding no one to quarrel with, retired in some bewilder- 
 ment. Zahad roamed about till dusk. Then he betook 
 himself, ready and determined, but unenthusiastic, to 
 the Sayyid's house. He passed many little knots of his 
 co-religionists, eagerly whispering and collecting. It 
 was dark when he reached the alley where the last of 
 Allah's manifestations was revealed. There he was 
 stopped by police and questioned. Whilst replying im- 
 patiently, a sudden uproar distracted the inquirers. A 
 turn of the roadway hid Manich Chanda's house, but the 
 noise came from that quarter. The police broke away, 
 and Zahad followed. Before they got sight of the build- 
 ing, a little column of townsmen burst from a side-pas- 
 sage, beat down the police with sticks, and ran along. 
 Round the next turning they fell amongst a swarm ot 
 raving Moslem, who occupied the narrow wynd in a 
 mass compact. Too closely pressed to advance, they 
 shook their bludgeons in a swarthy flare of torches, cry- 
 ing, " Din! din! Lah-ullah-hu ! " The spirit of the 
 scene stirred the Afridi's blood. His height, his long 
 arms and tough muscles, forced Zahad a way through the 
 outlying mass. He came near the door, not unbruised. 
 Here was collected wilder material than the city could 
 furnish Scindhis from the desert, Pathans and Beloo- 
 chis, whose eyes gleamed through tangles of long hair,, 
 
394 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 wet with perspiration. They all carried arms, and they 
 yelled in frenzy. 
 
 Round the entrance was motion still more vehement. 
 Great hammers whirled and thundered on the massive 
 door. With a roar and a crash it gave way, and Zahad 
 was carried in. There was no resistance nor any living 
 thing in the house. By ways prepared in times more 
 
 < 
 
 habitually perilous, every soul had got away. The 
 building was rummaged from top to bottom in an in- 
 stant, chests smashed, apartments stripped, and all that 
 was moveable trampled or carried off*. Those who 
 entered first, the Pathans and Beloochis, understand 
 looting as a science, and they did the business thoroughly 
 in a few moments. Two cries, repeated by a thousand 
 voices, disturbed them. It was a scream of "Fire!" 
 within the house, and of " Soldiers!" outside. All 
 tumbled headlong down the stairs, disposing their plun- 
 der as they went. 
 
 Zahad was among the last. As he ran from an apart- 
 ment of the purdah the harem he saw a big Belooch 
 escaping with a bundle. From an aperture therein 
 trailed his blessed scarf! Zahad recognised it at a glance 
 and sprang on the looter. Explanations were not asked 
 nor offered. The Belooch, a heavier man, almost as tall, 
 sustained the shock, but he had no time to draw a wea- 
 pon. Clutching each other like wild beasts, rolling and 
 roaring and rending with their teeth, they struggled 
 amongst gathering smoke in a horrid din. 
 
A BIT OF AN OLD STORY. 395 
 
 Moslem and Hindoo were fighting outside, whilst the 
 soldiers, with fixed bayonets, drove all before them, and 
 the police made indiscriminate arrests. The street was 
 cleared in three minutes, and a score, of daring fellows 
 bounded up the staircase. At the same instant the 
 Belooch came whirling down, head foremost. Zahad 
 followed him, clutching the bundle. And presently 
 they were both conveyed to the guard-room on 
 stretchers. 
 
 The rest of the tale may be summarised very shortly. 
 
 The Belooch died, and half-a-dozen witnesses deposed 
 that they saw Zahad pitch him downstairs. To the 
 magistrate's eye the case was simple. Two plunderers 
 had quarrelled, and one had murdered the other. Zahad 
 was convicted. To the question what he had to say 
 before receiving doom, he answered vehemently: " The 
 Belooch was found in possession of a scarf which Allah 
 had let fall from the sky as a special mark of favour " 
 and so on. The judge interrupted. He said : 
 
 " This is not the first time, prisoner, that you have 
 pleaded a similar hallucination. Last year it was some 
 Delhi bracelets which mysteriously reached you in a 
 dream. Now you justify yourself by an incredible story 
 about a scarf. If I could admit you sincere in believing 
 that these things were gifts of Allah, the simplest inquiry 
 would have disabused you. The bracelets are before me. 
 They speak for themselves a dozen like them might be 
 bought any day in the bazaar. To make certainty doubly 
 
396 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 certain, here is the mark of a well-known jeweller. The 
 scarf is Dacca muslin, embroidered by hand. In a score 
 of house? you will find such articles " 
 
 " No, no, sahib !" cried the Afridi, distracted. " It 
 cannot be. I myself saw " 
 
 "Summon an expert," ordered the judge, "and 
 Manich Chanda." 
 
 ; Manich Chanda drew the attention of all by his con- 
 fusion when interrogated about this simple matter. But 
 when asked generally if the scarf was not a common 
 pattern of Scind embroidery he eagerly replied that in 
 all rich purdahs such articles were common. And the 
 expert, a Moslem, only glanced at the bracelets before 
 declaring that he recognised them. They were brought 
 from Delhi by a confrere, who told him casually that he 
 had sold them to Manich Chanda. This statement made 
 sensation. Zahad was overwhelmed. He sank down in 
 the dock and heard no more. Had this evidence been 
 brought at the first trial, he would have laughed in 
 simple scorn. But it confirmed dim suspicions, un- 
 acknowledged and unshaped, which had been forming 
 in his mind. 
 
 After a pause, the judge continued: 
 
 " You have been convicted, prisoner, upon the clearest 
 evidence. I shall instruct competent persons to inquire 
 into your state of mind. But my duty now is to con- 
 demn you to penal servitude for ten years." 
 
 Zahad paid no attention. The doctors declared him 
 
A BIT OF AN OLD STORY. 397 
 
 of sound mind. He is now in the Andaman Islands, 
 noted in the prison-books as " dangerous." 
 
 Manich Chanda suffered for his daughters' silly and 
 improper freak. For years he had been out of caste, 
 paying the penalty of a youthful voyage to Europe. It 
 was this misfortune which caused all the others, for Hin- 
 doo girls brought up among the decencies of caste life 
 would rather die than notice a Moslem, much more leave 
 him gifts. But Manich Chanda had fair hopes of re- 
 instation at a price. For this end he had subscribed 
 largely to the fund for raising a spire on Prahladpuri, 
 and had taken the most active part in collecting money. 
 The disclosures of the trial ruined him and his daughters 
 beyond hope. He is the richest citizen and the most 
 miserable in Multan. They remain single. 
 
 The riots had their course. After a week of most 
 intolerable disorder, the town was formally occupied, 
 but a certainty of defeat and punishment did not stop 
 the fighting. At length the leading people on both 
 sides felt their religious enthusiasm cool before the stag- 
 nation of business. Through the mediation of the com- 
 missioner they reached an agreement. Prahladpuri 
 Temple was to be embellished with a spire, but only 
 thirty-three feet high. It is just finished. The Hindoos 
 were to have a well dug at the municipal expense, and 
 they waived their claim to draw at the Holy Moslem 
 fount. 
 
398 
 
 A BUNDLE OE PHOTOGRAPHS. 
 
 IT was my singular good luck to visit the South 
 African Diamond Fields whilst their authenticity was 
 still suspected, their marvels untold, their scenes and 
 customs unreported. " Dry digging " was first incredu- 
 lously whispered on the Vaal in December 1870; in 
 February 1871 the rush took place. 1 Long before my 
 arrival the colony had run mad ; but it was not until 
 the New Colesberg Kopje had been well proved, that 
 Europe believed the dreadful truth. The discovery 
 of this grandest of all mines occurred, if I remember 
 right, in July 1871, and I reached the fields in October. 
 As yet the movement was almost exclusively colonial. 
 Government reports estimated the yield of diamonds at 
 300,OOOZ. a month, 3,600,OOOZ. a year, and the produc- 
 tion was increasing daily. A very few European dealers, 
 better informed than rivals, had agents on the spot. But 
 the bulk of those interested in gems, and nearly all the 
 public, still discredited, or resolutely affected to dis- 
 credit, the truth of facts which must in their ultimate 
 course reduce the diamond to the valus of the garnet. 
 
A BUNDLE OF PHOTOGRAPHS. 399 
 
 I saw the Fields, therefore, as very few English visitors 
 have seen them, at the most interesting stage, with eyes 
 unprepared. What they were like, what manner of ex- 
 istence diggers led, is shown in a packet of small photo- 
 graphs which turned up yesterday. Some of these faded 
 views no great results of science at any time I purpose 
 to illustrate like a conscientious showman. 
 
 First to notice is a picture of the house at Bultfon- 
 tein, where I lived, a guest of my excellent friend 
 
 W . Mud though it was, people called it " The 
 
 Residence," " The Mansion," and such fine names ; not 
 unreasonably, for the wealthiest of diggers had but a 
 tent or a frame-house of canvas, the largest of traders 
 only a shed of planks, my Lord the Chief Justice and 
 Her Majesty's Commissioners but a tiny baize- walled 
 room apiece in an " hotel." There was another house 
 at Dutoitspan, used as the prison; one at New Kush 
 occupied by u The Company " ; and a third at Alex- 
 andersfontein, five miles from camp, which was let to 
 Captain Rorke, Chief Inspector of Claims. No more. 
 And they tell us there are streets and villas now. 
 
 It was of this house at Bultfontein that a colonial 
 paper solemnly declared the walls to be set with dia- 
 monds. How they laughed at home ! But the state- 
 ment was untrue only in the sense that it was foolishly 
 
 exaggerated. One Sunday W asked some friends 
 
 to breakfast a wretched, greasy feed enough, but deli- 
 
400 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 cious to those poor fellows, for some of whom no feast 
 had flavour or variety but a few months before. The 
 meal finished, one of them strolled restlessly about the 
 little room. Quick and suspicious eyes were there. The 
 whole party rose on a sudden, threw their comrade 
 across the table, and tormented him until he hysterically 
 owned the finding of four diamonds in the plaster. 
 They forthwith stripped the walls, heedless of expostu- 
 lation. Nine more were discovered ; and so effectual 
 was the search that none have been discovered since, to 
 
 W 's knowledge. "Some time afterwards he resolved 
 
 to dig a cellar, and speculators eagerly bid for the con- 
 tract ; if stray diamonds were found sticking in the 
 house-wall, there must be a new Golconda in the soil 
 
 beneath. The successful competitor executed W 's 
 
 ideas, and paid him a large amount for the earth re- 
 moved. But he found not a single stone. Such sur- 
 prises, such disappointments, were common on the fields 
 at that time. My shrewd host perceived that the plaster 
 had not been made at Bultfontein, where there is no 
 water, and he rightly judged that diamonds therein did 
 not prove diamonds below the foundations. 
 
 Fancy a very small, low building, flat-roofed, without 
 a window visible. Successive layers of sun-dried brick 
 are conspicuous, for the surface of mud-stucco only 
 clings in flakes. Strange articles undistinguishable lean 
 against the wall, throwing keen-edged shadows which 
 
A BUNDLE OF PHOTOGRAPHS. 401 
 
 make one feel hot only to recall the glare. Obtrusive in 
 the foreground stands that emblematic wheel-barrow, 
 containing pick and spade and bucket. There are three 
 doorg of varying height and width. At one of them I 
 stand, not unpicturesque perhaps, in puggree and white 
 flannel ; beside me a friend, dressed for this occasion in 
 his cherished suit of tweeds ; well in the foreground, 
 burly J. F., with rolled-up trousers and uncompromising 
 boots, stuffing his pipe with a determined thumb. Be- 
 yond the house-wall appears a corner of the tiny stable, 
 
 where W kept two modest ponies. Further on, a 
 
 goat is perched upon some eminence resembling a shat- 
 tered cart ; then a round Kaffir hut, and the cook-house 
 beyond. Once upon a time that cook-house was annexed 
 by three Hottentot women, who expelled our female ser- 
 vants we only, for miles about, had female servants 
 and kept possession two days. One of them declared 
 she was Queen of Russia, and had come to see that the 
 diggers had fair play. After various manoeuvres, quite 
 futile, we trapped them, as monkeys are trapped, with a 
 bottle of Cape Smoke, ostentatiously left unprotected. 
 They raced for it, and our Kaffirs lying in ambush 
 occupied the hut in force. 
 
 That demented allusion to the Queen of Russia was 
 based, no doubt, upon a curious incident that occurred 
 during my stay. A lady visited the Fields, travelling 
 with her maid and man in a handsome covered cart; she 
 was said to be a Russian princess exiled from Europe. 
 Mystery hung over her, and we were a good deal excited. 
 It is certain that Sir Henry Barkly, Governor of Cape 
 
 2 D 
 
402 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 Colony, gave this illustrious stranger an urgent recom- 
 mendation to the care of all officials; but his circular 
 contained no hint of her nationality or station. Our ex- 
 cellent magistrate of Dutoitspan was much perplexed 
 how to make things comfortable for the lady; but she 
 proved to be quite independent, with her cart and her 
 servants. His attentions finally concentrated in a solemn 
 stroll every evening, with the Russian princess upon 
 his arm. She bought many diamonds, and paid for 
 them. 
 
 The scene familiar to us when we stepped outside that 
 mansion is displayed in a panorama, consisting of four 
 views. The camp photographer had no large resources. 
 His pictures are all one size, four inches by two-and-a- 
 half. to take the landscape from Bultfontein Hill, he 
 has apparently aimed his camera at different points of 
 the horizon^*and connected the shots together. But the 
 result is close enough for me. Spreading the small 
 sheets smooth, I recognise that unforgotten tableau. In 
 the immediate foreground, all along, are grey hills of 
 " sorted stuff," " sittings," riddled earth dug from the 
 claims. Not a man is working on all this side. The 
 fabulous wealth of New Rush, the superb gambling of 
 Old de Beer's, the staid prosperity of Dutoitspan, have 
 seduced away the thousands who used to populate our 
 hill. The veldt stretches unbroken to our left hand, 
 miles on miles of grey monotony. Beyond the sharp 
 edge of its horizon flattened mountains glimmer. Tra- 
 velling towards the right, a solitary tent appears far off, 
 then two or three, then a jumble and a wilderness of 
 
A BUNDLE OF PHOTOGRAPHS. 403 
 
 canvas. Our tree is conspicuous amongst them, with 
 waggons and frame-houses round it. The panorama 
 shows a width of four miles, and a depth of I know not 
 how many ; but there is not another tree. That cameel- 
 dorn bestows a glory on our camp whereof New Rush 
 bluster cannot deprive us. With what chuckling did 
 we see those plutocrats wander up and down, two hours 
 by the clock, seeking an object on which to hang a 
 nigger, and finding none ! Our tree is registered in 
 maps and surveys. Distances are measured from it. 
 History must refer to it. If anything happened to our 
 tree, the geography of West Griqualand would be em- 
 barrassed. 
 
 Under its shade I recognise a small canteen, notoriously 
 unlicensed, yet ignored by the Excise. This privileged 
 pot-house is kept by Duplat, the Boer who owned these 
 farms, who sold them for about 5,000/., and who would 
 starve if the police stopped his miserable enterprise. In 
 front of the canvas city stands another dwelling which I 
 recollect a pal-shaped tent, bellying on its ropes, 
 patched and dingy. The man who lived there had a 
 claim upon the other side of Bultfontein, which he worked 
 with feverish industry. People thought him rich, but 
 he never displayed his diamonds. In passing two or 
 three times a day, 1 used to speak to him, and after a 
 while he confided in me. The poor fellow was not 
 looking for diamonds any longer; not one had he found, 
 but hundreds of rubies unapproachable in colour. I saw 
 the fatal mistake, and hinted it cautiously. He admitted 
 that the dealers would not buy his stones, but he had an 
 
 2D2 
 
404 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 ingenious theory to account for that. The deluded man 
 showed me a jar full of lovely garnets, such as wiser 
 diggers put carelessly aside as presents for their children. 
 He was still deceived when I left the Fields, and I fear 
 he may have lost his senses when the cruel truth ap- 
 peared. 
 
 The second bit of iny panorama shows the outskirts 
 of Dutoitspan. The horizon is effaced by one huge 
 continuous mound, the barrier of siftings between Camp 
 and Field, the town and the mine. It is almost a range 
 of mountains, as mountains go out yonder. We have 
 not yet reached the magnificence of New Rush, but at 
 this rich digging there are groups of tents beyond the 
 crowded purlieus of the township, where a lordly com- 
 rade has his residence, his stable, his cook-house, and his 
 servants' quarters all detached. Buggies and " spiders " 
 stand in the open here and there. Farther on, in the 
 next picture, appears Dutoitspan Camp, an orderly 
 confusion of tents, frame houses, corrugated iron roofs, 
 sheds, and enormous warehouses. Conspicuous lies 
 the dam, a shallow pool, with three dead cattle lying 
 suffocated in the mud. That little train of horses 
 descending from the Market Square is probably sent by 
 the police to drag their carcasses away. The water we 
 drink comes from the dam, stagnant and fetid at the 
 best, thick with the churning of hoofs, odorous with all 
 impurity. We pa} threepence a bucket, and we fetch 
 it ourselves. No marvel that we seldom wash. Pontak 
 wine comes as cheap, and is not more nasty. 
 
 So familiar was that scene half a score of years since, 
 
A BUNDLE OF PHOTOGRAPHS. 405 
 
 that memory, stirred by examination of this photograph, 
 identifies many an object. There is the great store of 
 Sonnenberg Brothers, that Californian firm which tried 
 to " hold " diamonds. It quarrelled with the banks, and 
 vowed vengeance. Notices were posted that Sonnenberg 
 would purchase every diamond brought to them. I do 
 not know what arrangements they had framed to meet 
 the run. For fourteen days they gallantly held out, 
 while excitement grew, and bets mounted higher. Then 
 they broke, with nine pounds weight of diamonds in 
 hand 9 and a mob of sellers at the door ! Of that in- 
 credible figure I am absolutely certain, but I will not 
 guarantee that the struggle lasted fourteen days. I 
 think, upon reflection, that it was much shorter. 
 
 There is the neat little house where Swelly Dave 
 lived he of whom I wrote in " Legends of my Bun- 
 galow." In that warehouse yonder, one stifling day, I 
 took refuge from a thunderstorm which nowhere breaks 
 so suddenly and so awfully as on these burnt plains. A 
 woman in the street ran to shelter, calling her little boy. 
 He delayed an instant Heaven itself seemed to crack 
 and burst above him; earth and air flamed in one undis- 
 tinguishable blaze! Then our dazzled sight returned. 
 The child lay in the roadway, smoking ! The sluices of 
 the sky broke open, the rain descended in a cataract. 
 But we heard the mother's scream of frenzy, saw her 
 
 run and drop grovelling in the mud and wet 
 
 But I would dwell on pleasanter recollections 
 Benning and Martin's Hotel shows plainly a large 
 wooden structure on the Market Square. What larks 
 
406 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 we enjoyed in that hostelry, grim enough sometimes! 
 The adventures of a Russian corpse there on Christmas 
 night are not to be excelled for grotesque horror; ten 
 years ago I had courage to print that story, but I dare 
 not now. Harmless fun was always to be had at Ben- 
 ning and Martin's. The accommodation consisted of a 
 bar-room with a humorous billiard-table ; a vast shed 
 behind, open to the roof. One washed in the open if 
 one washed finding one's own water. Partitions of 
 green baize on either side the shed made bedrooms. 
 The central space was the dining-hall, but it had a 
 double row of open beds, where diggers tired or drunk 
 lay down-, dressed or undressed, as they thought fitting. 
 These public couches were reckoned by the hour, and 
 Martin's factotum, Oeorge, held it his duty to rouse an 
 occupant at every termination of his lease, no to speak. 
 " Hi, it's daylight outside ! " was his invariable formula. 
 How many hours George counted to the day depended, 
 so far as I could gather, on the number of his " pick 
 axes," a beverage of pontak wine, brandy, and ginger- 
 beer. After each relaxation of the sort he haled a 
 sleeper out of bed, regardless of protest. 
 
 One day, as we sat down to breakfast, arrived an 
 athletic youth, who had kept it up very late, or begun 
 it very early. White as a miller with the poisonous 
 lime-dust, scarred with Hebron boils, bare-armed, red- 
 eyed with the glare of sorting, he looked a type of 
 digger. This youth got into bed, high-boots, butcher's 
 knife, and all, wrapped his head up, and lay quiet. " I'd 
 give that chap his full time, if I was you, George," said 
 
A BUNDLE OF PHOTOGRAPHS. 40? 
 
 somebody, and George looked as if the same idea had 
 crossed his mind. But it was the good man's custom to 
 take refreshment whenever he carried an order to the 
 bar. Business was transacting after breakfast, and busi- 
 ness there means drink. George forgot his prudence, 
 and after a while he shook the muffled sleeper u Hi, 
 man, it's daylight outside !" The other's reply is not to 
 be transcribed a large proportion of remarks out there 
 would not bear repetition. But George was persevering. 
 Suddenly his victim jumped up, snatched off the blanket, 
 twisted it tightly round George's head. 
 
 "Is it daylight in there, you blackguard is it?" 
 punching him. 
 
 "No, no, it ain't!" 
 
 " Then don't tell a chap no more lies," exclaimed the 
 youth, with a final kick. 
 
 What a grand display we had sometimes on that rough 
 board ! From some mysterious receptacle ragged 
 brigands would produce a store of diamonds which an 
 empress would regard with interest. But the first warn- 
 ing of catastrophe was very near. It reached us in 
 November or December 1871. What fortunes we 
 missed, those who were on the spot in that earliest 
 panic ! If we had only known ! But who could keep 
 his judgment cool, his faith unshaken, when Sonnenberg 
 accumulated nine pounds weight of gems in a fortnight, 
 besides what he sold, what he refused, and what stood 
 over? It was that startling fact which daunted us, I 
 think. How could diamonds keep up, we said to one 
 another dismally, against that flood? They did keep 
 
408 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 up, however, they keep up still, though the final smash 
 draws nearer and more near. 
 
 On that black day, wandering as we all did from one 
 closed dealer's to another, I called at the little frame- 
 house above the dam, which I recognise in this photo- 
 graph. It was occupied by my friend M. Mege, repre- 
 sentative of a large firm in Paris and London. As we 
 talked disconsolately at the door, a Dutchman offered us 
 a perfect stone, very slightly yellow, of forty-seven 
 carats, at 27s. the carat. He had taken it over all the 
 camps since daybreak, dropping his price until it reached 
 that incredible figure. And we refused ! I feel savagely 
 bewildered even now to think of it. 
 
 We have stayed long enough at Dutoitspan. My 
 bundle of photographs is scarcely touched, and I meant 
 to say a word of each. But before traversing those 
 three miles of veldt sprinkled with limbs and carcasses 
 of oxen at each yard, busy with carts, dotted with bands 
 of Kaffirs which divide me from the promised land, I 
 must call your attention to the fluttering rag of canvas, 
 the shapeless objects standing there, all solitary, beyond 
 the outskirts of Dutoitspan. They are the outward 
 signs remaining of a curious incident. Once upon a 
 time we had a deluge so copious and so long enduring 
 that the most industrious knocked off. The river-camps 
 were flooded. A happy notion struck two diggers of 
 Cawood's Hope, thus reduced to idleness. Shouldering 
 their cradle, they tramped hither, hired a cart, and went 
 round New Rush, begging the nodules, "lumps" we 
 called them, which are found in most claims masses of 
 
A BUNDLE OF PHOTOGRAPHS. 409 
 
 tufaceous lime, which will not crumble. Our diggers 
 knew very well that diamonds were as likely there as 
 anywhere ; but, if a lump refused to break under two or 
 three careless blows, they tossed it on one side, and used 
 it for building walls or such purposes as that. No one 
 refused the men of Cawood's Hope ; some, in that idle 
 time, employed their Kaffirs to load up the cart. By 
 noon they had enough to begin operations in the river 
 style, washing the lumps instead of pounding at them. 
 Next dawn the little tent, the cradles and fixings, stood 
 abandoned as you see them now. Not half the lumps 
 collected had been touched, not a stick of their property 
 had they removed. Those ingenious diggers of Cawood's 
 Hope were seen no more, but somewhere about the 
 world dwell two men in comfort if not luxury, who tell 
 their children a legend of the Diamond Fields even 
 more strange than others. We laughed and we swore, 
 but very, very few took warning. Henceforward men 
 would not give away their " lumps." But they left 
 them piled on the roadside, until the sun dried and 
 powdered them. Then a thirty-carat diamond rolled to 
 the feet of a passing Kaffir in sight of half-a-dozen people. 
 But still we would not trouble to investigate our lumps. 
 
 Look now at the pictures of this wondrous jewel-box 
 It is lunch-time, and the claims are deserted. So truth- 
 fully marvellous is the representation of that scene the 
 perplexed observer cannot say which is top or bottom of 
 the photograph. At this present time, the roads and 
 walls so confusing here have vanished, and New Rush i s 
 one pit, eight acres of area or so, bounded by " the 
 
410 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 reef."* I could not possibly give an idea of the former 
 chaos represented here. After thoughtfully resolving 
 which is the right end up, one sees abysses apparently 
 unfathomable, crossed by broken roads, interrupted by 
 terraces and platforms, traversed by ropes like a gigantic 
 web, diversified with windlasses and suspended buckets 
 and wheelbarrows and endless machinery. Minute in- 
 spection will discern a Kaffir whose attitude harmonises 
 finely with the scene. Solitary on the brink of a murky 
 excavation, he has gazed upon that world of holes till in 
 perplexity and dizziness he rests his elbows on his knees 
 and clutches wildly at his hair to keep his brain from 
 whirling. 
 
 I understand the feelings of that Kaffir. New Rush 
 was a place to stir imagination beyond all others on the 
 surface of the earth. How many millions sterling have 
 been dug from that small field, no larger than one of 
 our great London squares ! How many thousands have 
 been enriched by it how potent must be its influence 
 on generations unborn ! We troubled little about such 
 questions, but they arose as one looked upon that laby- 
 rinth from the hill of siftings that encircled it, a new 
 chain of mountains in the antique landscape ! Thousands 
 of men were toiling in the cool dark shade below, 
 scarce bigger than dolls. Long before my time, white 
 labourers refused at any wage to descend those perilous 
 holes fifty, eighty, a hundred feet sheer, with no sup- 
 port for the crumbling walls of lime. Even Kaffirs 
 
 * All the reef has now fallen in, and New Rush is a big deep pond, 
 waiting for machinery to pump it out. 
 
A BUNDLE OF PHOTOGRAPHS. 411 
 
 might not be tempted, after they had earned enough to 
 buy a gun. But in the fever of avarice and rivalry men 
 dug and sank, wasting no time in precautions. They 
 sat upon a plank suspended in mid-air, and scraped the 
 walls plumb-line in hand, whilst jealous eyes above 
 watched every motion. They tunnelled beneath the 
 roads, so weakening them that one after another they 
 fell in, with result more or less disastrous. The walls 
 collapsed incessantly. Then the reef itself, the hill 
 against which they worked, toppled over bodily, and 
 smashed the pumping-apparatus. But still the mad 
 struggle continued. Still the Kaffirs poured their 
 buckets on the sorting-table, and at dusk men stowed 
 away their handful of precious stones, withdrawing to 
 drink and gamble in those fine tents sprinkled round the 
 outskirts of the township. Or, after working hard with 
 their own hands all day, they retired despairingly. For 
 New Rush is not all enchanted ground. There are 
 parts of it, as I know to my cost, which do not pay for 
 working. It startles one to hear that eight acres of 
 ground return 300, OOO/. a month ; such was the estimate 
 of this kopje alone when I left ; just the sum which all 
 the fields together yielded at my arrival. But of this 
 amount, four roads out of the twelve probably contri- 
 buted two-thirds ; one-sixth of the area was almost un-? 
 productive, Heaven only knows why. All things con- 
 nected with the diamond become more mysterious the 
 more opportunity one has of studying the question prac- 
 tically. I could talk by the hour on this theme without 
 going beyond the range of my personal observation. 
 
412 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 Take, as one detail in a thousand, the matter of chips 
 they are common enough on the Fields fragments split 
 from the crystal under circumstances which may be 
 variously suggested. The size of the perfect mass may 
 be calculated if an angle remain upon the chip, and no 
 such gems survive as the antediluvian monsters which 
 
 we find in bits. My friend W observed a flake 
 
 which, when whole, represented a diamond of 3,000 
 carats or thereabouts. Now, these broken sections are 
 found at every depth, buried, closely enveloped in what 
 we call " stuff," tufaceous lime, just as any stone is buried 
 in the earth. But, have two chips ever been dug that 
 fitted together? One might naturally expect that the 
 discovery of a fragment deep down under the soil would 
 argue the presence of others within a reasonable dis- 
 tance ; but it does not prove to be so. The exploding 
 diamond must have scattered over an enormous area. 
 What was the force so gigantic which hurled its parts 
 away? All the world knows that our Cape gems split 
 even now. I never saw a man who had actually beheld 
 the process, but it is evidently slow and gentle. 
 
 Enough of scientific problems. Here is a view of 
 New Rush at work. The photographer has chosen one 
 of the less crowded, less successful, roads, and he has 
 persuaded all the men about it to take an instant's rest. 
 You can fancy what bearded, brawny ruffians they seem. 
 European diggers had scarcely yet begun to show. These 
 giants who overtop the stalwart Kaffir by a head are 
 Africanders, English or Dutch of blood, quiet and God- 
 fearing mostly, unless they think themselves aggrieved. 
 
A BUNDLE OF PHOTOGRAPHS. 413 
 
 Unfortunately, that was an abiding notion. After the 
 collapse of the Republic and the withdrawal of President 
 Parker, no course the Government could follow satisfied 
 them. Kaffir thefts and landlords' claims troubled these 
 good fellows sorely. The latter they ignored with 
 menace, but the former grievance embittered every day. 
 What innumerable meetings gathered in the Market 
 Squares of Kimberley and Dutoitspan to vituperate the 
 Kaffir and his wicked doings ! Every man who addressed 
 his " brother diggers" from the market- table where sat 
 the chairman lawfully elected, high-poised aloft under an 
 old umbrella declared such abuses had been impossible 
 under Stafford Parker's rule. And they spoke truly. 
 For in those days men did not trust a Kaffir even with 
 the spade unless they watched him. To send gangs of 
 cunning savages, alone and masterless, into the twilight 
 of the deep-dug claims whilst one lay in bed or smoked 
 at the ** Pig and Whistle" to let them sort and bring 
 their "finds" at evening such confidence would have 
 seemed a suggestion rather humorous than mad in the 
 early time. 
 
 But we had come to that. I scarcely blame the Kaffirs 
 if they yielded to such temptation. One did not need 
 the thousand proofs advanced to convince one that they 
 would steal under the circumstances. A piece of evi- 
 dence as conclusive as amusing I remember. Until the 
 English Government annexed the Fields, blacks were not 
 allowed to work on their own account. When this regu- 
 lation was annulled, many home-staying speculators made 
 their venture. A colonial clergyman of the guileless sort 
 
414 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 chose a little party of his converts, explained his vague 
 ideas, furnished the needful means, and started his Kaffirs 
 for New Rush. All they understood was that their padre 
 longed for some of those shining stones wherewith the 
 Bushmen used to pierce their instruments. On arrival 
 at the Fields, they hired themselves out, stole every 
 diamond they saw, and when they thought the store 
 sufficient they set off home rejoicing. Very cheerful 
 was that padre. After glutting his gaze with the pretty 
 heap of gems, he very injudiciously asked when and 
 where and how. Then the horrid truth came out in its 
 unblushing nakedness. Shocked beyond words, the in- 
 nocent suborner of those innocent kleptomaniacs lodged 
 his ill-gotten treasure in the bank. And month after 
 month he advertised for claimants. I never heard of an 
 application. We were too busy to trouble about spilt 
 milk or lost diamonds. 
 
 But we were not too busy, the day's work done, to 
 indulge the sport of chevying, beating, hanging Kaffirs, 
 burning the tents of receivers suspected, and generally 
 playing mischief. It was a wild time, that of the New 
 Rush riots. After meting out justice on the thieves, a 
 natural impulse counselled the plunder of the landlords. 
 We sat under arms all night at Bultfontein Residence 
 time after time, expecting th summons to assist Dutoit- 
 span or to defend ourselves. One afternoon, especially, 
 it was reported to the magistrate that 4,000 New Rush 
 diggers had vowed to march on a general crusade against 
 wrongdoers. He swore in special constables, but it was 
 too evident that the mass of diggers at Dutoitspan would 
 
A BUMDLE OF PHOTOGRAPHS. 415 
 
 not interfere unless personally annoyed. That was an 
 evening of excitement ! A storm saved us, if I remember 
 rightly. 
 
 In justice, however, it should be added, that pleasant 
 incidents occurred during these paroxysms of unreason- 
 ing vengeance. The rioters burnt a canteen, smashed 
 all its contents, nearly killed the Kaffirs there, in the 
 master's absence. He returned before they left, and 
 somehow secured a hearing, which convinced those well- 
 intentioned persons that they had made an error. Forth- 
 with they raised a subscription in diamonds and coin, 
 which paid the money loss ten times over, and laid the 
 foundation of that sufferer's fortune in five minutes. 
 What was done for the Kaffirs I never heard. 
 
 What a contrast are such feverish scenes with that 
 depicted in the last photograph I set before me! It 
 represents a " wet digging, " Cawood's Hope, or Blue- 
 jacket, or Hebron, or Moonlight Rush one of those 
 sweet landscapes we beheld in " the depths of some 
 divine despair' 5 on a holiday run from the madding 
 crowd and the sun-bleached desert. Four men, all 
 white, stand by a shallow pool, barelegged, pausing with 
 their simple instruments in hand. Fine trees overhang 
 the little group. A hill clothed with brush swells up 
 behind them, and before lies the swift pellucid water of 
 the Vaal, making blessed music of its silver ripples, 
 softly hurrying down great flakes of heavenly blue and 
 cool green bars of happy shadow. The wives of those too 
 fortunate adventurers are somewhere near, cooking the 
 rude but welcome supper. Their children are playing 
 
416 ON THE BORDERLAND. 
 
 in the bush or bathing ; brightening their fathers' plea- 
 sant toil with merry voices. At night all will slumber 
 quietly in the old waggon under the kindly trees the 
 slumber of hard work well, not fantastically, paid. To- 
 morrow, perhaps, the men will take a holiday, clean their 
 trusty roers, mount and scour the veldt, returning with 
 spring-bok and duyker, guinea-fowl and koraun. Such 
 was diamond-digging once, before we dreamed of fabu- 
 lous gains, of making fortunes in an hour, of the hurly- 
 burly, the mad merriment, and unheeded wretchedness 
 of the "dry fields." 
 
 
M3137Q4