<h2><SPAN name="Ch11" name="Ch11">Chapter 11</SPAN>: A Useful Friend.</h2>
<p>"I agree with you that it would be a disadvantage to go as a
soldier," Dick said, after a pause; "but what disguise would you
recommend us to choose?"</p>
<p>"That I must think over. You both look too straight and active
to be employed as the assistants of a trader, or I could have got
some of my friends to take you in that capacity. The best disguise
will be a gayer attire, such as would be worn by the retainers of
some of the chiefs; and were it not that, if questioned, you could
not say who was your employer, that is what I should
recommend."</p>
<p>"I saw a number of men working at a battery they are erecting by
the river side. Could we not take service there until something
better presents itself?"</p>
<p>"I should not advise that," the native replied, "for the work is
very hard, and the pay poor. Indeed, most of those employed on it
are men driven in from the country round and forced to labour,
getting only enough pay to furnish them with the poorest food.
There would also be the disadvantage that, if you were so employed,
you would have no opportunity of seeing any English captives who
may have been brought here of late.</p>
<p>"All that I can at present do, myself, is to speak to some of my
friends who have been here for a long time, and ask them whether
they can remember an English captive being sent up here from Coorg,
some eight years ago, and whether they ever heard what was his
fate. I should say, of course, that I have received a message from
friends at Conjeveram; that some of the man's relations have sent
out to make inquiries concerning him, and asking me if I can find
any news as to his fate. My friends may not know themselves, but
they may be able to find out from others. Very many of our people
were forced into the ranks of the army, and there is not a regiment
which has not some men who, although regarded as Mohammedans, are
still at heart, as we all are, as true to our faith as ever.</p>
<p>"It is from these that we are more likely to obtain information
than in any other way. You will not be very long before you will be
able to satisfy yourself as to whether or not he whom you seek is
in this city; and if he should not be here, there remain but the
two towns that I have named, and the hill forts. As to these, it
will be well-nigh impossible to obtain an entrance, so jealously
are they all guarded. None save the garrisons are allowed to enter.
The paths, which are often so steep and difficult that men and
provisions have to be slung up in baskets, are guarded night and
day, and none are allowed to approach the foot of the rocks within
musket shot--lest, I suppose, they might find some spot where an
ascent could be made. The garrisons are seldom changed. The
soldiers are allowed to take their wives and families up with them,
but once there, they are as much prisoners as those in the
dungeons. That is one reason why captives once sent up there never
come down again, for were they to do so they might, if by chance
they escaped, be able to give information as to the approaches that
would assist an assailing force.</p>
<p>"I do not say that all are killed, though undoubtedly most of
them are put to death soon after they arrive; but it may be that
some are retained in confinement, either from no orders being sent
for their execution, or from their very existence being, in time,
forgotten by the tyrant here. Some of these may languish in
dungeons, others may have gained the goodwill of the commanders of
the fort--for even among the Mohammedans there are doubtless many
good and merciful men.</p>
<p>"Now for the present. This house has but one storey in front,
but there is a room over this, and that is at your service.
Furniture it has none, but I will, this evening, get a couple of
trusses of straw. It is but a loft, but you will not want to use
it, save to sleep in. You need not fear interruption in this house.
There is scarce a man here that is not, like myself, a Hindoo, for
when we were brought here from Mysore, the piece of ground on which
the street stands was assigned to us, and we were directed to build
houses here. Few besides ourselves ever enter it, for those who
still carry on trade have booths in the marketplace.</p>
<p>"There is one thing I will tell you at once. We, the persecuted,
have means of recognising each other. Outward signs there are none,
neither caste mark nor peculiarity of dress; but we know each other
by signs. When we salute, we turn in the thumbs as we raise our
hands to our turbans--so. If we have no occasion to salute, as we
move our hands, either to stroke our faces, or to touch the handles
of our daggers, or in other way, we keep the thumb turned in. If
the man be one of ourselves, he replies in the same way. Then, to
prevent the possibility of error, the one asks the other a
question--on what subject it matters not, providing that before he
speaks, he coughs slightly.</p>
<p>"You must remember that such communication is not made lightly.
Were it to be so, it would soon attract notice. It is used when you
want to know whether you can trust a man. It is as much as to say,
'Are you a friend? Can I have confidence in you? Will you help
me?'--and you can see that there are many occasions on which such
knowledge may be most useful, even to the saving of life."</p>
<p>"I do indeed see it," Dick said, "and greatly are we indebted to
you for telling us of it."</p>
<p>They remained talking with their host, whose name was, he told
them, Pertaub, until darkness came on. They had shared his rice
with him, and had requested him to lay in such provision as was
necessary for them; and as soon as it became dark they went out,
leaving their guns behind them.</p>
<p>Busy as the main streets were when they had before passed
through them, they were very much more so now. The shops were all
lighted up by lanterns or small lamps, and the streets were filled
with troops, now dismissed from duty, and bent, some on amusement,
some in purchasing small additions to their rations with the scanty
pay allowed to them. In the open spaces, the soldiers were crowded
round performers of various kinds. Here was a juggler throwing
balls and knives into the air. There was a snake charmer--a Hindoo,
doubtless, but too old and too poor to be worth persecuting. A
short distance off was an acrobat turning and twisting himself into
strange postures.</p>
<p>Two sword players, with bucklers and blunted tulwars, played
occasionally against each other, and offered to engage any of the
bystanders. Occasionally the invitation would be accepted, but the
sword players always proved too skilful for the rough soldiers, who
retired discomfited, amid the jeers of their comrades.</p>
<p>More than one party of musicians played what seemed to Dick most
discordant music, but which was appreciated by the soldiers, as was
evident from the plaudits and the number of small coins thrown to
the players. In the great open space, by the side of the market,
the crowd was thickest. Here were large numbers of booths, gay with
lamps. In one were arranged, on tables, trays of cheap trinkets,
calicoes, cloths, blankets, shoes, and other articles of dress. In
another were arms, matchlocks, pistols, tulwars, and daggers. On
the ground were lines of baskets, filled with grain of many kinds,
the vendors squatting patiently behind them. Some of the traders
volubly accosted passers by. Others maintained a dignified silence,
as if they considered the excellence of their wares needed no
advertisement.</p>
<p>It was not new, but it was very amusing to Dick, and it was late
before they returned to their lodging.</p>
<p>"I wish," he said, as they strolled back, "that I were a good
juggler or musician. It seems to me that it would be an excellent
disguise, and we could go everywhere without question, and get
admittance into all sorts of places we could not get a chance of
entering into in any other way."</p>
<p>"Yes, that would be a good thing," Surajah agreed; "but I am
sure that I could not do anything, even if you could."</p>
<p>"No, I quite see that, and I am not thinking of trying; but it
would have been a first-rate plan."</p>
<p>"You are very good at sword play," Surajah suggested, although
somewhat doubtfully.</p>
<p>Dick laughed.</p>
<p>"The first really good swordsman that came along would make an
exhibition of me. No; one would have to do something really
well."</p>
<p>The subject was renewed, after they had seated themselves with
Pertaub.</p>
<p>"It would be an excellent disguise," he agreed. "A good juggler
could gain admission to the Palace, and might even enter forts
where no others could set foot; for life there is dull, indeed, and
anyone who could amuse the soldiers would be certain of a welcome,
and even a governor might be willing to see his feats."</p>
<p>"Could one bribe a conjurer to let one pass as his
assistant?"</p>
<p>"That would be impossible," the Hindoo said, "for an assistant
would have opportunities for learning the tricks, and no money
would induce a really good juggler to divulge his secrets, which
have been passed down from father to son for centuries."</p>
<p>"If one had thought of it," Dick said, "one could have bought,
in London, very many things which would have seemed almost magical
to the people here. I am afraid that we must go on, on our old
line. It is a pity, for the other would have been first rate."</p>
<p>"I have obtained for you, this evening, two suits of clothes
such as we spoke of. In them you can pass as followers of some
petty rajah, and are not likely to attract attention. I have
inquired among some of my friends, and hear that the Rajah of Bohr
left here today with his following. He is but a petty chief, and
Bohr lies up north, close to the Nizam's frontier. Thus, if you
should be asked in whose service you are, you will have a name to
give, and there will be no fear of your being contradicted.</p>
<p>"If you are still further questioned by anyone with a right to
ask, you can say that you were told to remain here, in order to see
how fast the drilling of the troops went on, and to send the Rajah
a report when it is time for him to return here to accompany Tippoo
on his march. You will, of course, account for your dialect by
keeping to your present story, that you came from a village on the
ghauts, in order to enter the service of one of our rajahs; and
that your father having, years ago, been a soldier in the pay of
the Rajah of Bohr, you made your way there direct, instead of
coming to the capital."</p>
<p>"That will do excellently, Pertaub. It was a fortunate moment,
indeed, that brought us to your door."</p>
<p>"I have done nothing as yet, Sahib; but I hope that, in time, I
may be able to be of use to you. It was fortunate for me as well as
for you, perhaps, that you stopped at my door. Of late I have had
nothing to think of, save my own grief and troubles, but now I have
something to give an interest to my life, and already I feel that I
need not merely drag it on, until I am relieved of its burden.</p>
<p>"And now, Sahibs, I am sure that rest must be needful for you,
and would recommend that you seek your beds at once."</p>
<p>On the following morning, Pertaub brought up the garments that
he had bought for them. Nothing could be more irregular than the
dress of the armed retainers of an Indian rajah. All attire
themselves according to their fancy. Some carry spears and shields,
others matchlocks. Some wear turbans, others iron caps. The cut and
colour of their garments are also varied in the extreme.</p>
<p>Dick's dress consisted of a steel cap, with a drooping plume of
red horsehair, and a red tunic with a blue sash. Over it was worn a
skirt of linked mail which, with leggings fitting tightly,
completed the costume. Surajah had a red turban, a jerkin of
quilted leather, with iron scales fastened on to protect the
shoulders and chest. A scarlet kilt hung to his knees, and his legs
were enclosed in putties, or swathes, of coarse cloth, wound round
and round them. He wore a blue and gold girdle.</p>
<p>Dick laughed as he surveyed the appearance of himself and
Surajah.</p>
<p>"We are a rum-looking couple," he said, "but I have seen plenty
of men, just as gaudy, in the train of some of the rajahs who
visited the camp when we were up here. I think that it is a much
better disguise than the one we wore yesterday. I sha'n't be afraid
that the first officer we meet will ask us to what regiment we
belong. There were scores of fellows lounging about in the streets
last night, dressed as we are."</p>
<p>Sticking their swords and pistols into their girdles, they
sallied out, and were pleased to find that no one paid the
slightest attention to them. They remained in the town until some
battalions of recruits poured out from the fort, to drill on the
grounds between it and the town. The first four that passed were,
as Dick learnt from the remarks of some of the bystanders, composed
entirely of boys--some of them Christians, thirty thousand of whom
had been carried off by Tippoo, in his raid on Travancore; and the
young men were compelled to serve, after being obliged to become,
nominally, Mohammedans. After the Chelah battalions came those of
Tippoo's army.</p>
<p>"These fellows look as if they could fight," Dick said. "They
are an irregular lot, and don't seem to have an idea of keeping
line, or marching in step, but they are an active-looking set of
fellows, and carry themselves well. As to the Chelahs, I should say
they would be no good whatever, even if they could be relied on,
which we know they cannot be. They look dejected and miserable, and
I suppose hate it all as much as their officers do. I should back
half a regiment of English to lick the twelve battalions. I wonder
Tippoo, himself, does not see that troops like these must be
utterly useless."</p>
<p>"I don't expect he thinks they would be of much use," Surajah
agreed. "He only turned them into soldiers to gratify his hatred of
them."</p>
<p>Leaving the troops, they walked on and entered the great fort,
which enclosed an area of nearly two square miles. In this were
Tippoo's palace, his storehouses--containing grain sufficient for
the garrison, for a siege of many months--mosques, the residences
of Tippoo's officials and officers, the arsenals, and the huts for
the troops. There was also a street of shops, similar to those in
the town.</p>
<p>Wandering about, unquestioned, they came presently upon a scene
that filled Dick with indignation and fury. Two white officers,
heavily ironed, were seated on the ground. Another, similarly
ironed, lay stretched beside them. He was naked from the waist up.
His back was covered with blood, and he had evidently been recently
flogged, until he fell insensible. Half a dozen savage-looking men,
evidently executioners of Tippoo's orders, were standing round,
jeering at the prisoners and refusing their entreaties to bring
some water for their comrade.</p>
<p>"You brutes!" one of the captives exclaimed, in English. "I
would give all my hopes of liberty, for ten minutes face to face
with you, with swords in our hands."</p>
<p>"They would not be of much use to us," the other said quietly.
"It is four days since we had a mouthful of food, and they would
make very short work of us."</p>
<p>"All the better," the other exclaimed. "Death would be a
thousand-fold preferable to this misery."</p>
<p>Dick felt that, if he remained longer, he would be unable to
contain himself; and turning hastily away, walked off, accompanied
by Surajah.</p>
<p>"It is awful!" he exclaimed, with tears running down his cheeks;
"and to be able to do nothing! What must Father have gone through!
I think, Surajah, that if we were to come upon Tippoo I should go
for him, even if he were surrounded by guards. Of course it would
cost me my life. If I could kill him, I think I should not mind it.
Such a villain is not fit to live; and at any rate, whoever came
after him, the prisoners could not be worse off than they are
now.</p>
<p>"Let us go back. I have had enough for this morning."</p>
<p>When they returned, Dick told Pertaub of the scene that he had
witnessed.</p>
<p>"Many of them have been starved to death," the old man said.
"Possibly one of their companions may have tried to escape. It is
to prevent this that Tippoo's greatest cruelties are perpetrated.
It is not so very difficult to get away, and take to the jungle.
Some have succeeded, but most of them are retaken, for a watch is
vigilantly kept up, at every village and every road leading on to
the frontier; and if caught, they are hung or forced to take
poison. But whether they are caught or not, Tippoo's vengeance
falls upon their companions. These are flogged, ironed, and kept
without rations for weeks--living, if they do live, upon the
charity of their guards.</p>
<p>"This is why there are so few attempts at escape. A man knows
that, whether he himself gets off or not, he dooms his companions
to torture, perhaps death. One case I remember, in which an English
sailor, one out of nine, attempted to get away. He was captured and
killed at once, and his eight companions were all hung. So you see,
even if one of the captives sees a chance of escape, he does not
take it, because of the consequences that would fall upon his
companions."</p>
<p>"It is horrible," Dick said, "and I can quite understand why so
few escape. The question for me, now, is whether there are any
prisoners kept in dungeons here."</p>
<p>"Not here, I think. Tippoo's policy is to make all his captives
useful, and though one might be ironed and confined for a time, I
do not think that any are so kept, permanently, here. There were,
of course, some confined to the fort by illness, and some in irons.
It may need some little search, before you are quite sure that you
have seen every one. However, I will try to find out how many there
are there, and to get as many of the names as possible. Some of my
friends, who keep shops in the fort, may be able to do this for me.
This would shorten your task.</p>
<p>"But I cannot hold out any hopes that you will find him whom you
seek in the city. It is among the hill forts you will find him, if
he be alive. I have been turning the matter over, since you spoke
to me last night, and the best plan I can think of is, that you
should go as a travelling merchant, with Surajah as your assistant.
You would want a good assortment of goods; fine muslins and silks,
and a good selection of silver jewellery, from different parts of
India. All these I could purchase for you here. If, by good luck,
you could obtain a sight of the commander of one of these forts,
you might possibly obtain permission from him to go up, and show
your wares to the ladies of his establishment, and to those of
other officers. The present of a handsome waist sash, or a
silver-mounted dagger, might incline him favourably to your
petition."</p>
<p>"I think that the idea is an excellent one," Dick said warmly.
"If we cannot get in in that way, there seems to me to be no
chance, save by taking a careful survey of the fortress, to
discover where the rocks can be most easily climbed. There must
surely be some spots, even among the steepest crags, where active
fellows like Surajah and myself would be able to scale them. Of
course, we should have to do it after dark; but once up there, one
ought to be able to move about in the fort without difficulty, as
we should, of course, be dressed as soldiers, and could take dark
blankets to wrap round us. We ought then to be able to find where
any prisoners who may be there are confined. There might be a
sentry at the door, or, if there were no other way, one might
pounce upon someone, force him by threats to tell us what prisoners
there are, and where they are confined; and then bind and gag him,
and stow him away where there would be no chance of his being
discovered before daylight."</p>
<p>"There would be a terrible risk in such a matter," Pertaub said,
shaking his head gravely.</p>
<p>"No doubt there would be risk, but we came here prepared to
encounter danger, and if it were well managed, I don't see why we
should be found out. Even if we were, we ought to be able to slip
away, in the darkness, and make our way to the point where we went
up. Once down on the plain, we could renew our disguise as traders,
and, however hotly they scoured the country, pass without suspicion
through them.</p>
<p>"I think that there will be more chance, in that way, than in
going in as traders; for we should, in that case, have little
chance of walking about, still less of questioning anyone. However,
it is worth trying that first. We can always fall back upon the
other, if it fails. We might, on our first visit, obtain
indications that would be very useful to us on our second."</p>
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