Books: Hira Singh
T >>
Talbot Mundy >> Hira Singh
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 | 11 |
12 |
13 |
14 |
15 |
16 |
17 |
18 |
19
On a box beside the bed Ranjoor Singh found writing-paper,
envelopes, and requisition forms not yet filled out, but already
signed with a seal and a Turkish signature. There was a map, and a
list of routes and villages. But best of all was a letter of
instructions signed by a German officer. There were also other
priceless things, of some of which I may chance to speak later.
I was told by Abraham that during the conversation following Ranjoor
Singh's seizure of the papers the word Wassmuss was bandied back and
forth a thousand times, the Turk growing rather more amenable each
time the word was used. Finally the Turk resigned himself with a
shrug of the shoulders, and was left in his tent with a guard of our
men at each corner.
Then, for all that the night was black dark and there were very few
lanterns, the camp began to be turned upside down, Ranjoor Singh
ordering everything thrown aside that could not be immediately
useful to us. There were forty carts, burdened to the breaking
point, and twenty of them Ranjoor Singh abandoned as too heavy for
our purpose. Most of the carts had been drawn by teams of six mules
each, but ten of them had been drawn by horses, and besides the
Turkish captain's horse there were four other spare ones. There were
also about a hundred sheep and some goats.
Ranjoor Singh ordered all the corn repacked into fourteen of the
carts, sheep and goats into four carts, and ammunition into the
remaining two, leaving room in each cart for two men so that the
guard who had stood awake all night might ride and sleep. That left
him with sixty-four spare horses. Leaving the Turkish officer his
own horse, but taking the saddle for himself, he gave Tugendheim
one, me another, the third to Gooja Singh--he being next non-
commissioned officer to me in order of seniority, and having had
punishment enough--and the fourth horse, that was much the best one,
he himself took. Then he chose sixty men to cease from being
infantry and become a sort of cavalry again--cavalry without saddles
as yet, or stirrups--cavalry with rifles--cavalry with aching feet--
but cavalry none the less. He picked the sixty with great wisdom,
choosing for the most part men who had given no trouble, but he
included ten or twelve grumblers, although for a day or two I did
not understand why. There was forethought in everything he did.
The sheep that could not be crowded into the carts he ordered
butchered there and then, and the meat distributed among the men;
and all the plunder that he decided not to take he ordered heaped in
one place where it would not be visible unless deliberately looked
for. The plundered money that he found in the Turk's tent he hid
under the corn in the foremost cart, and we found it very useful
later on. The few of our men who had not fallen asleep were for
burning the piled-up plunder, but he threatened to shoot whoever
dared set match to it.
"Shall we light a beacon to warn the countryside?" said he.
A little after midnight there began to be attempts by Turkish
soldiers to break through and run for Angora. But I had kept my
twenty guards awake with threats of being made to carry ammunition--
even letting the butt of my rifle do work not set down in the
regulations. So it came about that we captured every single
fugitive. They were five all told, and I sent them, tied together,
down to Ranjoor Singh. Thereupon he went to the Turk, and promised
him personal violence if another of his men should attempt to break
away. So the Turk gave orders that were obeyed.
Then, when all the plunder in the camp had been rearranged, and the
mules and horses reapportioned, four hours yet before dawn, Ranjoor
Singh took out his fountain-pen and executed the stroke of genius
that made what followed possible. Without Abraham I do not know what
he would have done. I can not imagine. Yet I feel sure he would have
contrived something. He made use of Abraham as the best tool
available, and that is no proof he could not have done as well by
other means. I have learned this: that Ranjoor Singh, with that
faith of his in God, can do anything. Anything. He is a true man,
and God puts thoughts into his heart.
Among the Turk's documents were big sheets of paper for official
correspondence, similar to that on which his orders were written.
Ranjoor Singh ascertained from Abraham that he who had signed those
orders was the German officer highest in command in all that region,
who had left Angora a month previously to superintend the
requisitioning.
So Ranjoor Singh sent for Tugendheim, whose writing would have the
proper clerical appearance, and by a lantern in the tent dictated to
him a letter in German to the effect that this Turkish officer, by
name Nazim, with all his men and carts and animals, had been
diverted to the aid of Wassmuss. The letter went on to say that on
his way back to Angora this same high German officer would himself
cover the territory thus left uncared for, so that nothing need be
done about it in the meanwhile. (He wrote that to prevent
investigation and perhaps pursuit by the men in Angora who waited
Nazim and his plunder.)
At the foot of the letter Abraham cleverly copied the signature of
the very high German officer, after making many experiments first on
another sheet of paper.
Tugendheim of course protested vehemently that he would do no such
thing, when ordered to write. But Ranjoor Singh ordered the barrel
of a Turkish soldier's rifle thrust in the fire, and the German did
not protest to the point of permitting his feet to be singed. He
wrote a very careful letter, even suggesting better phraseology--his
reason for that being that, since he was thus far committed, our
total escape would be the best thing possible for him. The Germans,
who are so fond of terrifying others, are merciless to their own who
happen to be guilty of weak conduct, and to have said he was
compelled to write that letter would have been no excuse if we were
caught. Henceforward it was strictly to his interest to help us.
Finally, when the letter had been sealed in its envelope, there came
the problem of addressing it, and the Turk seemed ignorant on that
point, or else stupid. Perhaps he was wilfully ignorant, hoping that
the peculiar form of the address might cause suspicion and
investigation. But what with Tugendheim's familiarity with German
military custom, and Ranjoor Singh's swift thought, an address was
devised that served the purpose, judging by results.
Then came the problem of delivering the letter. To have sent one of
the Turkish soldiers with it would have been the same thing as
marching to Angora and surrendering; for of course the Turk would
have told of what happened in the night, and where it happened, and
all about it. To have sent one of the half-starved Syrians would
probably have amounted to the same thing; for the sake of a
bellyful, or from fear of ill-treatment the wretched man would very
likely tell too much. But Abraham was different. Abraham was an
educated man, who well understood the value to us of silence, and
who seemed to hate both Turks and Germans equally.
So Ranjoor Singh took Abraham aside and talked with him five
minutes. And the end of that was that a Turkish soldier was
compelled to strip himself and change clothes with Abraham, the Turk
taking no pleasure at all in the exchange. Then Abraham was given a
horse, and on the outside of the envelope in one corner was written
in German, "Bearer should be supplied with saddle for his horse and
sent back at once with acknowledgment of receipt of this."
There and then Ranjoor Singh gave Abraham the letter, shook hands
with him, helped him on the horse, and sent him on his way--three
hours before dawn. Then promptly he gave orders to all the other
Syrians to strike camp and resume their regular occupation of
driving mules.
The Turkish officer, although not deprived of his horse, was not
permitted to ride until after daybreak, because of the difficulty
otherwise of guarding him in the dark. The same with Tugendheim;
although there was little reason for suspecting him of wanting to
escape, with that letter fresh in his memory, he was nevertheless
compelled to walk until daylight should make escape impossible.
The Turkish officer was made to march in front with his four-and-
forty soldiers, who were given back their rifles but no bayonets or
ammunition. Gooja Singh, whose two-and-twenty were ready by that
time to pull his beard out hair by hair, was given fifty men who
hated him less fiercely and set to march next behind the Turks. Then
came the carts in single column, and after them Tugendheim and the
remainder of our infantry. Behind the infantry rode the cavalry, and
very last of all rode Ranjoor Singh, since that was for the present
the post of chiefest danger.
As for me, I tumbled into a cart and fell asleep at once, scarcely
hearing the order shouted to the Turk to go forward. The men who had
been on guard with me all did the same, falling asleep like I almost
before their bodies touched the corn.
When I awoke it was already midday. We had halted near some trees
and food was being served out. I got under the cart to keep the sun
off me, and lay there musing until a trooper had brought my meal.
The meal was good, and my thoughts were good--excellent! For had we
not been a little troop of lean ghosts, looking for graves to lie
in? The talk along the way had been of who should bury us, or who
should bury the last man, supposing we all died one by one! Had we
not been famished until the very wind was a wall too heavy to
prevail against? And were we not now what the drill-book calls a
composite force, with full bellies, carts, horses and equipment? Who
thought about graves any longer? I lay and laughed, sahib, until a
trooper brought me dinner--laughed for contempt of the Germans we
had left behind, and for the Turks whose plunder we had stolen,--
laughed like a fool, like a man without brain or experience or
judgment.
Not until I had eaten my fill did I bethink me of Ranjoor Singh.
Then I rose lazily, and was astonished at the stiffness in my
ankles. Nevertheless I contrived to stride with military manner, in
order that any Turk or Syrian beholding me might know me for a man
to be reckoned with, the added pain and effort being well worth
while.
Nor did I have far to look for Ranjoor Singh. The instant I raised
my eyes I saw him sitting on a great rock beneath the shadow of a
tree, with his horse tied below him eating corn from a cloth spread
on the ground. In order to reach him with least inconvenience, I
made a circuit and approached from the rear, because in that
direction the rock sloped away gradually and I was in no mood to
climb, nor in condition to climb with dignity.
So it happened that I came on him unaware. Nevertheless, I was
surprised that his ears should not detect my footfall. The horse,
six feet below us, was aware of me first and snorted, yet Ranjoor
Singh did not turn his head.
"Sahib!" said I; but he did not move.
"Sahib!" I said, going a step nearer and speaking louder. But he
neither moved nor answered. Now I knew there was no laughing matter,
and my hand trembled as I held it out to touch his shoulder. His
arms were folded above his knees and his chin rested on them. I
shook him slightly, and his chin fell down between his knees; but he
did not answer. Now I knew beyond doubt he was not asleep, for
however weary he would ever awake at a touch or the lightest
whisper. I began to fear he was dead, and a feeling of sickness
swept over me as that grim fear took hold.
"Sahib!" I said again, taking his shoulders with both hands. And he
toppled over toward me, thus, like a dead man. Yet he breathed. I
made certain he was breathing.
I shook him twice or thrice, with no result. Then I took him in my
arms, thus, one arm under the knees and one under his armpits, and
lifted him. He is a heavy man, all bone and sinew, and my stiff
ankles caused me agony; but I contrived to lay him gently full
length in the shadow of the tree-trunk, and then I covered him with
his overcoat, to keep away flies. I had scarcely finished that when
Gooja Singh came, and I cursed under my breath; but openly I
appeared pleased to see him.
"It is well you came!" said I. "Thus I am saved the necessity of
sending one to bring you. Our sahib is asleep," I said, "and has
made over the command to me until he shall awake again."
"He sleeps very suddenly!" said Gooja Singh, and he stood eying me
with suspicion.
"Well he may!" said I, thinking furiously--as a man in a burning
house--yet outwardly all calm. "He has done all our thinking for us
all these days; he has borne alone the burden of responsibility. He
has enforced the discipline," said I with a deliberate stare that
made Gooja Singh look sullen, "and God knows how necessary that has
been! He has let no littlest detail of the march escape him. He has
eaten no more than we; he has marched as far and as fast as we; he
has slept less than any of us. And now," said I, "he is weary. He
kept awake until I came, and fell asleep in my arms when he had
given me his orders."
Gooja Singh looked as if he did not believe me. But my words had
been but a mask behind which I was thinking. As I spoke I stepped
sidewise, as if to prevent our voices from disturbing the sleeper,
for it seemed wise to draw Gooja Singh to safer distance. Now I sat
down at last on the summit of the rock exactly where Ranjoor Singh
was sitting when I spied him first, hoping that perhaps in his place
his thoughts would come to me. And whether the place had anything to
do with it or not I do not know, but certainly wise thoughts did
come. I reached a decision in that instant that was the saving of
us, and for which Ranjoor Singh greatly commended me later on.
Because of it, in the days to come, he placed greater confidence in
my ability and faithfulness and judgment.
"What were his orders?" asked Gooja Singh. "Or were they secret
orders known only to him and thee?"
"If you had not come," said I, "I would have sent for you to hear
the orders. When he wakes," I added, "I shall tell him who obeyed
the swiftest."
I was thinking still. Thinking furiously. I knew nothing at all yet
about Abraham, and that was good, for otherwise I might have decided
to wait there for him to overtake us.
"Have the men finished eating?" I asked, and he answered he was come
because they had finished eating.
"Then the order is to proceed at once!" said I. "Send a cart here
under the rock and eight good men, that we may lower our sahib into
it. With the exception of that one cart let the column proceed in
the same order as before, the Turk and his men leading."
"Leading whither?" asked Gooja Singh.
"Let us hope," said I, "to a place where orders are obeyed in
military manner without question! Have you heard the order?" I
asked, and I made as if to go and wake our officer.
Without another word Gooja Singh climbed down from the rock and went
about shouting his commands as if he himself were their originator.
Meanwhile I thought busily, with an eye for the wide horizon,
wondering whether we were being pursued, or whether telegrams had
not perhaps been sent to places far ahead, ordering Turkish
regiments to form a cordon and cut us off. I wondered more than ever
who Wassmuss might be, and whether Ranjoor Singh had had at any time
the least idea of our eventual destination. I had no idea which
direction to take. There was no track I could see, except that made
by our own cart-wheels. On what did I base my decision, then? I will
tell you, sahib.
I saw that not only Ranjoor Singh's horse, but all the cattle had
been given liberal amounts of corn. It seemed to me that unless he
intended to continue by forced marches Ranjoor Singh would have
begun by economizing food. Moreover, I judged that if he had
intended resting many hours in that spot he would have had me
summoned and have gone to sleep himself. The very fact that he had
let me sleep on seemed to me proof that he intended going forward.
Doubtless, he would depend on me to stand guard during the night. So
I reasoned it. And I also thought it probable he had told the Turk
in which direction to lead, seeing that the Turk doubtless knew more
of that countryside than any. Ahead of us was all Asia and behind us
was the sea. Who was I that I should know the way? But by telling
the Turk to lead on, I could impose on him responsibility for
possible error, and myself gain more time to think. And for that
decision, too, Ranjoor Singh saw fit to praise me later.
They brought the cart, and with the help of eight men, I laid
Ranjoor Singh very comfortably on the corn, and covered him. Then I
bade those eight be bodyguard, letting none approach too close on
pain of violence, saying that Ranjoor Singh needed a long deep sleep
to restore his energy. Also, I bade them keep that cart at the rear
of the column, and I myself chose the rear place of all so as to
keep control, prevent straggling, and watch against pursuit.
Pursued? Nay, sahib. Not at that time. Nevertheless, that thought of
mine, to choose the last place, was the very gift of God. We had
been traveling about three parts of an hour when I perceived a very
long way off the head of a camel caravan advancing at swift pace
toward us--or almost toward us. It seemed to me to be coming from
Angora. And it so happened that at the moment when I saw it first
the front half of our column had already dipped beyond a rise and
was descending a rather gentle slope.
I hurried the tail of the column over the rise by twisting it, as a
man twists bullocks' tails. And then I bade the whole line halt and
lie down, except those in charge of horses; them I ordered into the
shelter of some trees, and the carts I hurried behind a low ridge--
all except Ranjoor Singh's cart; that I ordered backed into a hollow
near me. So we were invisible unless the camels should approach too
close.
The Turks and Tugendheim I saw placed in the midst of all the other
unmounted men, and ordered them guarded like felons; and I bade
those in charge of mules and horses stand by, ready to muzzle their
beasts with coats or what-not, to prevent neighing and braying. Then
I returned to the top of the rise and lay down, praying to God, with
a trooper beside me who might run and try to shake Ranjoor Singh
back to life in case of direst need.
I lay and heard my heart beat like a drum against the ground,
praying one moment, and with the next breath cursing some hoof-beat
from behind me and the muffled reprimand that was certain to follow
it. The men were as afraid as I, and the thing I feared most of all
was panic. Yet what more could I do than I had done? I lay and
watched the camels, and every step that brought them nearer felt
like a link in a chain that bound us all.
One thing became perfectly evident before long. There were not more
than two hundred camels, therefore in a fight we should be able to
beat them off easily. But unless we could ambuscade them (and there
was no time to prepare that now) it would be impossible to kill or
capture them all. Some would get away and those would carry the
alarm to the nearest military post. Then gone would be all hope for
us of evading capture or destruction. But it was also obvious to me
that no such caravan would come straight on toward us at such speed
if it knew of our existence or our whereabouts. They expected us as
little as we expected them.
So I lay still, trembling, wondering what Ranjoor Singh would say to
me, supposing he did not die in the cart there--wondering what the
matter might be with Ranjoor Singh--wondering what I should do
supposing he did die and we escaped from this present predicament. I
knew there was little hope of my maintaining discipline without
Ranjoor Singh's aid. And I had not the least notion whither to lead,
unless toward Russia.
Such thoughts made me physically sick, so that it was relief to turn
away from them and watch the oncoming caravan, especially as I began
to suspect it would not come within a mile of us. Presently I began
to be certain that it would cross our track rather less than a mile
away. I began to whisper to myself excitedly. Then at last "Yes!"
said I, aloud.
"Yes!" said a voice beside me, and I nearly jumped out of my skin,
"unless they suspect the track of our cart-wheels and follow it up,
we are all right!"
I looked round into the eyes of Ranjoor Singh, and felt my whole
skin creep like a snake's at sloughing time!
"Sahib!" said I.
"You have done well enough," said he, "except that if attacked you
would have hard work to gather your forces and control them. But
never mind, you did quite well enough for this first time!" said
Ranjoor Singh.
"Sahib!" I said. "But I thought you were in a cart, dying!"
"In a cart, yes!" he said. "Dying, no--although that was no fault of
somebody's!"
I begged him to explain, and while we watched the camels cross our
track--(God knows, sahib, why they did not grow suspicious and
follow along it)--he told me how he had sat on the great rock, not
very sleepy, but thinking, chin on knee, when suddenly some man
crawled up from behind and struck him a heavy blow.
"Feel my head," said he, and I felt under his turban. There was a
bruise the size of my folded fist. I swore--as who would not? "Is it
deep?" I said, still watching the camels, and before he answered me
he sent the trooper to go and find his horse.
"Superficial," he said then. "By the favor of God but a water
bruise. My head must have yielded beneath the blow."
"Who struck it?" said I, scarcely thinking what I said, for my mind
was full of the camels, now flank toward us, that would have served
our purpose like the gift of God could we only have contrived to
capture them.
"How should I know?" he answered. "See--they pass within a half-mile
of where I sat. Is not that the rock?" And I said yes.
"Had you lingered there," he said, "word about us would have gone
back to Angora at top camel speed. What possessed you to come away?"
"God!" said I, and he nodded, so that I began to preen myself. He
noticed my gathering self-esteem.
"Nevertheless," he said, aloud, but as if talking to himself, yet
careful that I should hear, "had this not happened to me I should
have seen those camels on the sky-line. Did you count the camels?"
"Two hundred and eight," said I.
"How many armed men with them?" he asked. "My eyes are yet dim from
the blow."
"One hundred and four," said I, "and an officer or two."
He nodded. "The prisoners would have been a nuisance," he said, "yet
we might have used them later. What with camels and what with
horses--and there is a good spot for an ambuscade through which they
must pass presently--I went and surveyed it while they cooked my
dinner--never mind, never mind!" said he. "If you had made a mistake
it would have been disastrous. Yet--two hundred and eight camels
would have been an acquisition--a great acquisition!"
So my self-esteem departed--like water from a leaky goatskin, and I
lay beside him watching the last dozen camels cross our trail, the
nose of one tied to the tail of another, one man to every two. I lay
conjecturing what might have been our fate had I had cunning enough
to capture that whole caravan, and not another word was spoken
between us until the last two camels disappeared beyond a ridge.
Then:
"Was there any man close by, when you found me?" asked Ranjoor
Singh.
"Nay, sahib," said I.
"Was there any man whose actions, or whose words, gave ground for
suspicion?" he asked.
"Nay, sahib," I began; but I checked myself, and he noticed it.
"Except--?" said he.
"Except that when Gooja Singh came," I said, "he seemed unwilling to
believe you were asleep."
"How long was it before Gooja Singh came?" he asked.
"He came almost before I had laid you under the tree and covered
you," said I.
"And you told him I was asleep?" he said.
"Yes," said I; and at that he laughed silently, although I could
tell well enough that his head ached, and merriment must have been a
long way from him.
"Has Gooja Singh any very firm friend with us?" he asked, and I
answered I did not know of one. "The ammunition bearers who were his
friends now curse him to his face," I said.
"Then he would have to do his own dirty work?" said he.
"He has to clean his own rifle," I answered. And Ranjoor Singh
nodded.
Then suddenly his meaning dawned on me. "You think it was Gooja
Singh who struck the blow?" I asked. We were sitting up by that
time. The camels were out of sight. He rose to his feet and beckoned
for his horse before he answered.
"I wished to know who else might properly be suspected," he said,
taking his horse's bridle. So I beckoned for my horse, and ordering
the cart in which he had lain to be brought along after us, I rode
at a walk beside him to where our infantry were left in hiding.
"Sahib," I said, "it is better after all to shoot this Gooja Singh.
Shoot him on suspicion!" I urged. "He makes only trouble and ill-
will. He puts false construction on every word you or I utter. He
misleads the men. And now you suspect him of having tried to kill
you! Bid me shoot him, sahib, and I obey!"
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 | 11 |
12 |
13 |
14 |
15 |
16 |
17 |
18 |
19