TALES OF ADVENTURE.

Auckland Star, Volume LIV, Issue 293, 8 December 1923, Page 24

TALES OF ADVENTURE.

WINNING A WIFE.

By CAPT. A. E. EVANS.

"The facts of this story," writes the author, "are set down .is narrated to mc, and are to the best of my belief entirely correct. The incident as to the Englishman living In Tlrah I personally Investigated with the Political Agnnt, who confirmed what I had been told."

"Peace be upon you." "And upon you, peace," I replied, giving the customary salutation, as I looked at the approaching figure. I was sitting outside my tent cleaning my rifle and toasting my toes at a wood fire, for the winter evening was more than a little chilly. I had to be up early next morning, and had intended turning in betimes, so I did not feel as cordial as I might have done towards the visitor. Nothing abashed, however, the native came forward and squatted down beside mc. Tall and erect still, in spite of his years, with the "bobbed" hair of the Khattak turning grey, he must have been a fine-looking man in his day. "The sahib has had good shooting?" he inquired courteously. "No," I said shortly. "Rotten! I have spent two days in your country, Khattak, and have seen nothing but two does with their young. And I have walked at least a thousand miles." He smiled. "Ah," he said, "shikar is not what it was when I was young; nowadays rifles are cheap and so plentiful that there is scarcely one of God's creatures left alive. I heard in the village that a sahib had honoured us with his presence, and I came to pay my respects. I have eaten the Bait of the English for many years." "A pensioner?" I inquired. "Yes, protector of the poor; Sher Khan, number twenty-forty-seven. Sixtieth Regiment. It was an Englishman who won my bride for mc, too, so I have double cause to be grateful." "Really?" I said, mildly astonished, I thought he meant that some British officer of his regiment liad lent him the money to pay for his wife.

"Would the sahib care to hear the story ?"

"Very much," I replied, untruthfully. I wanted to go to bed, and I watched with inward anguish while he settled himself down comfortably. And then he told mc the following story. I was young and now lam old. When a man is young his thoughts turn naturally on marriage. When I was on furlough my parents urged mc to get married and I agreed, but with certain stipulations. I had set my heart on the daughter of Jan Gul, the richest man in our village, whose daughter was reputed to be most beautiful. My parents approached Jan Gul, but he refused their offer for his daughter's hand. It was not a question of money so much as position; my family was as well born as his, but impoverished through over-much litigation, whereas he had become very prosperous, and expected to marry his daughter to some headman's son or an Indian officer, whereas I was only a naik (corporal). For many days all the relations on both sides argued, and finally Jan Gul gave way and declared that I might have the girl when I was promoted havildar (sergeant) and could put down a thousand rupees. With that I had to be content, and my furlough being up, I returned to my regiment, then stationed at Jacobabad.

A\Tien I got back I found to my great joy that one of the senior havildars was being transferred to another regiment, and that the colour-havildar of my company had already gone on pension. It was thus my turn for promotion if only I could pass the examination.

This was a matter of {rreat difficulty. Much time I spent over books till my head reeled, and I paid money to babus (clerks) and others to help mc to understand that which they contained, but my mind was all confusion, and as the time of examination was drawing near, I was in despair. At length I decided to go to my company commander. I went round one evening and found him in his bungalow, prostrate on a bed, fanning himself and covered from head to foot with prickly heat.

He asked what I wanted. I know the ways of the English and how they, do not care for much talk, so I answered boldly: "Cherisher of the poor, it is the matter of this examination. Drill I know, musketry I have learnt, and recon'Bence I have also learnt at your honour's hands, but this matter of accounts passes any man's comprehension."

"In other words," put in my sahib, "you want mc to teach you math'matics. Oh! you people. All day I work with you, till I am ready to die from exhaustion. Is not that enough without my working half through the night, too?"

I kept silent, and he went on: "All right; come here at seven every evening, and I will do half an hour with you." , And so he did, he sitting in a long chair and I squatting by his side on the verandah, till at length I mastered this invention of the evil one. Also to be quite safe, I gave a small present to the schoolmaster, who would correct the papers.

fireworks, and the women watching from within a raiding party from across the border had swooped down and carried off the intended bride in all her finery, with the intention; no doubt, of holding her to ransom. At once I saw my chance; if I could but recover her by any means, I would take care that she returned to her village as my bride. Already they were organising a pursuit party, but it did not suit my plans to join this rabble. Instead, with a companion from my regiment, also on leave, and my young brother who was not at that time in the army I set out, unknown to the rest and by a different route. By my advice we went unarmed, but disguised as mirasis (musicians), for as you know, your honour, all Khattaks are devoted to music and can play more or less.

I could make a pretty shrewd guess at the place whence the raiders came, and knowing that our village pursuit party would prevent them taking the direct path, we set out by another, and reached the village. I suspected in the early hours of the following morning. We were halted by an Afridi sentry. "Peace be upon you," he said, looking anything but peaceful. "And upon you peace," we replied. "May you not become tired," lie said. "And may you never become poor," we answered. "Who are you?" he said then. "Mirasis," we told him. "Come, then," lie said and let us pass, for to be a mirasi means admittance anywhere. We entered the village, paid our respects to the headman, and were given food. The village, though large, was a miserably-constructed affair and evidently poor, not like our Khattak villages.

"Here we dwell in prosperity," said the old man proudly, indicating with a sweep of his arm the collection of oneroomed mud hovels that constituted the place.

Well, they entertained us to the best of their ability, and while we were still feeding, in came as I had expected, the raiding party, and I saw the daughter of Jan Gul, heavily veiled, hustled into one of the huts. I was entirely without a plan to get her back, but I had some idea of staying over the night and making a desperate attempt at a rescue when all was quiet. Accordingly we pleaded the distance we had travelled and received a ready permission to remain in the village during that day, playing and singing at intervals in return for their hospitality. While we were so occupied, the opportunity for which I had been waiting occurred unexpectedly, in the shape of a raid from another Afridi village, between which and this village there was a feud. The enemy descended on the village from three sides, and while the inhabitants were still running for their rifles the raiders had killed two men and were driving off the cattle.

A man sitting next to mc had been hit, and I seized his rifle, intending to do what I could to assist. As I ran up I saw a raider making an attack on the old headman, who was unarmed. I am a good shot and was able to bring the rascal down first shot, thereby earning the gratitude of the headman. At the same time my two companions, with some Afridis of the village, ran out to rescue the cattle. These, as the custom is amongst Afridis, had been handed over to the charge of young boys, who drove them off, thus releasing the able-bodied men for fighting. My companions and their friends had beaten off the boys and were heading the cattle back, when they were attacked by yet another party. As they were unarmed they were unable to defend themselves, and would undoubtedly have been killed, being between two fires, if it had not been for an unexpected counter-attack from one flank, which drove their attackers off. The villagers had by now driven away the main attack, and finding the place too hot for them, the raiders melted away as silently as they had come.

The headman came up to mc and expressed his thanks for my timely assistance. "If there is anything in this village you covet," he said magnificently, "say the word; it is yours."

I promptly replied that I should like my bride returned, and his face fell. He was just about to make excuses, when the counter-attackers came up, and, to my extreme annoyance, proved to be headed by my rival, Lalla Gul, who, not daring to venture into the village, had determind to wait outside until nightfall and then attempt a rescue. I had not credited him with so much perseverance, and when he, in his turn, asked for his bride back, I felt my hopes sinking again.

"What am I to do?" exclaimed the old headman, perplexed. "There is one girl and two swains. To one I am indebted for my own life, to the other 1 owe the life of my son"—the youth had been in the party with my brother— "To both I am indebted, but how *m I to do justice?"

In time, therefore, I was made havildar, and wrote home to my village announcing the fact. To my horror they wrote back in reply telling mc that a betrothal was being arranged between the daughter of Jan Gul and the son of a wealthy landowner from a neighbouring village. I wrote hurriedly to Jan Gul, reminding him of his promise, and reproaching him for his conduct. I was now a havildar, I pointed out, and had the thousand rupees for which he had stipulated. This was not true, but I thought I could obtain the sum if it came to a pinch. He sent no answer, however, and in desperation I approached my sahib once more and asked for leave.

We both pleaded our causes, the whole population of the village being assembled by now to hear us, but the old man swore that he could not see the rights of the case. He said that he would pray awhile in the mosque and give us an answer later in the evening, so we had to wait in what patience we could.

In the evening, after food, we asked for his decision. He stroked his beard for a long time and at length said: "Young men, I have pondered over this matter, but I am still unable to decide on the merits of the case. I have therefore decided on a contest in which the successful man shall carry off the girl. Moreover, an escort and safe-conduct to the border will be given.

"You've only just returned from furlough," he said, "but I suppose you want to go and show off your stripes. All right; you can have ten days."

I left for my village that same night and found on my arrival that arrangements for the betrothal were well forward. Old Jan Gul would have nothing to do with mc; he had made an excellent match for his daughter and was very curt with my parents and myself. The bridegroom and his friends arrived while we were still arguing, and the celebrations, which as your honour knows last three days, were begun. That night while all the village feasted and sang I sat apart, bitter and angry. All of a sudden above the sound of song and laughter arose the sound of rifle shots and then the wailing of women. I ran up to find out the cause and found everywhere confusion. Apparently while all the men were outside feasting and letting off

At this there was some murmuring from Lalla Gul's party, which I could understand. Afridis prize markmanship above most qualities, and it was anticipated that they would set a mark for shooting. At this, being a soldier, I had the obvious advantage. The headman, however, called for silence.

"In this contest," he went on, "to neither will be advantage. Three miles from the village there is a cave situated on the face of a precipice. This cave is known to all the young men of tho village and in it a bear has made its lair with its young ones. Several attempts have been made by our young men to shoot the animal, but unsuccess-

fully. To-morrow, then, you two shall approach the bear's den, armed only with a stout stick; whoever shall kill or capture the bear carries away the girl. If neither is successful, she remains the property of the village and the young men who carried her off. Do you agree, Khattaks?"

I looked over at Lalla Gul, and he looked at mc. I could see he had little relish for the job, for he as the son of a prosperous man had lived softly, and could have the pick of many girls had he wanted. Nevertheless he was unwilling to back out and be the laughing-stock of these Afridis; and as for mc, it was my only chance.

"We have your promise, oh, headsman?" I asked.

"The word of an Afridi," he said.

I would like to have replied that that was nothing much, but, as we say, "in the'presence of the tiger the fox holds his peace," so we both agreed. After that we made music till late in the even-

Next morning Lalla Gul, who was feeling less brave in the chill winter air, spent his time in massaging his limbs and practising blows with the wooden club, but as for mc, I had other plans. Overnight one of the young Afridis had" boasted that theirs was the only village to contain a live Fcringhee (Englishman). I thought he must mean that they had carried off a sahib from Peshawar or some station and meant to hold him to ransom; but he said, No, it was a Feringhee who had turned Mussulman and settled in the village many years <a.go. He lived like a hermit under the protection of the headman, and was much venerated as a holy man and one skilled in medicines. For a long time I could not believe that this was really true, but he finally convinced mc, and in the morning I made up my mind that I would go and visit this alleged Englishman. I know the English and their powers, and when he spoke of medicine, it seemed to mc that perhaps this Englishman might help mc to win my bride.

So, leaving Lalla Gul to work some of the fat- idleness from his limbs, 1 tramped the three miles to the hermit's cave. It was low and dark inside, and I could hear someone chanting verses from the Koran. I entered with diffidence and said, "Peace be upon you."

"And upon you, peace," returned a benevolent voice, and I saw an old man, who might have been Pathan or Feringhee, and spoke Pushtu with the accent of the Afridis.

"May you live for ever," I said, but he did not return the greeting. Instead, he said to mc sternly, "Young man, keep mc not from my devotions with idle salutations. Say what is your wish, and go in peace." So I said to the old man, "They say you are a Feringhee." He neither affirmed it nor denied ifr, and I went on: "I have eaten the salt of the English for many years." Then 1 told him the whole of my> story.

"And what is this to mc, young man!" he said. "I am old; what have I to do with tales of girls and marriages? Go, leave mc in peace."

"Protector of the poor," I implored, and went on my knees in his wretched hovel, for I perceived that this man.in spite of his rags and dirt, was a true sahib. "They say you are a healer. Give mc some magic that will slay this bear, ana I will call down every blessing on your head." He groaned. At last he got up, and, taking some white stuff like snowflakes from a bottle, he said, wrapping it up in a leaf: "Take" this. On the and of your stick put some paste made of flour and water, and put this powder on the paste just before going to the bear's cave, but only just (before, otherwise the power will go from it, and do not bring the powder near yourself or you, too, will die. When the bear approaches, push the stick under its nose, and it will die within a minute. But immediately hit it on the head with the stick, lest people marvel and find out that it came about through my agency, in which case I shall have rest neither by day nor by night from men with enemies to wipe out."

I promised and left him, praying Allah to reward him. But he was deep in his prayers again and I doubt if he heard mc.

snufflings. I put my foot on the dead bear's snout and tugged, but so firmly had the brute bitten into the wood that when it did come away two teeth and part of its jaw came away with the stick. Then I aimed a swinging blow at the advancing animal, but it raised itself on its hindquarters, and, giving one blow of its fore-paw, knocked the stick from my hand, sending it whizzing over the edge of the cliff. Next instant the bear flung itself on mc, as I turned to run, and got my calf between its jaws I pulled out my knife and, in my agony, thrust it to the hilt again and again in the brute's flank. The bear, still gripping my leg, beat the air and the ground with its four paws, and linally, giving one terrific heave, it flung the pair of us over the Bide of the cliff.

As I crashed over I thought that now indeed all was finished, and that my labour had been iv vain, for I should certainly be killed, and Lalla Gul would marry the girl arter all.

But Allah is great! By chance, a small insignificant bush grew out at right angles to the cliff, and this arrested my fall when half-way down; I clutched at the branches, while the bear, thanks be to God, fell free.

The Afridis now rushed up, and with ropes and pugarees hauled mc up and back to the village, where the old Feringhee bandaged my lacerated calf. I rested there three nights, and during that time, as you may imagine, I took care to claim my bride. On the fourth day, in spite of great pain, I set forth with my companions, the girl, and the promised escort. The headman wanted mc to stop on, but for many reasons I was anxious to get away, among them being the fact that I could not get it out of my head that the cunning old man had known quite well about that

That afternoon the whole village turned out to watch the contest. Considering it advantageous to have second turn, I arranged it, by a small present to the mullah, who would prepare the lots, so that when we drew for places Lalla Gul should go first. The villagers sat down on the edge of the nullah, having put out sentries to prevent surprise. The bear's cave was situated about twice the height of a man from the top of the cliff, which was quite straight and without foothold from top to bottom From the cave was a sheer drop of sixty feet. Entrance to the cave was by a narrow path which slanted up to the top. Down this path Lalla Gul, feeling less and less brave, started cautiously. He had a heavy club in his hand, and in his girdle a knife. Almost the only possible way of overcoming the bear would be to tempt it out of its cave, and, swinging the club, strike it so that it was knocked over the cliff and would be killed by its fall on to the stony river-bed below.* Taking up his stand in the middle of the path, Lalla Gul threw rocks and stones into the cave to induce the bear to come out. There was much growling before it would do so, but eventually it did, and Lalla Gul had an excellent chance while it was still sleepy and standing in the mouth of its cave. But he seemed petrified with fright at sight of the animal, and stood stock still while the angry animal advanced on him. As it got up to him he gave it a despairing blow with his club on the snout. The bear bellowed with pain and rage—and at the sound Lalla Gul's courage seemed to ebb awsy, and he turned and ran up the path again amid the jeer* of the Afridis —none of whom, incidentally, had had the courage to do j this themselves.

Thia was my opportunity! Clambering swiftly down the narrow path, I was oif the angry bear before she was aware of it. I sprang forward and rammed the stick under her snout. She lifted up her head and bit into the wood so deeply that I could not withdraw the stick. I thought for a dreadful minute that the Feringhee had lied to mc, and that the magic was no magic at all, but suddenly as the bear, swinging her head from side to side, seemed about to wrest the stick from my grasp, her eyes glazed and she toppled in a heap _n the path. I was amazed, but I remembered the sahib's advice, and, standing between the bear and the people below, I thrust on the stick as hard as I could to make them think that I had killed it by pushing the stick down its throat. There was much cheering from below, but suddenly the cheering stopped, and cries of warning took their place. I looked round to see the cause, and saw, to my horror, a second bear emerging from " the cave!

I wrenched desperately at the stick to pull it free from the first one's jaw, while the newcomer stood over iuj dead mate and smelt it with great noisy

second bear, and that he had hoped sincerely that we would both be killed in order to keep the girl—and the ransom he would get for her—in the viillage. That is all my story, protector of the poor. We returned safely to our own village, where Jan Gnl could no longer refuse mc the girl in marriage; in fact, he waived the question of the thousand rupees. We were betrothed before I left, and then, my leave being up. I had to return to Jacobabad. That is many years ago now, and it may seem strange to you to hear an old man talking of love and marriage. But— thanks be to Allah the all-merciful—l have four strapping sons to carry on my name. •TTie beer ot Northern India, though very formidable when angered, is little blgrger than a full-grown Newfoundland dog , .—The Author.