Across India; Or, Live Boys in the Far East, Oliver Optic [read along books TXT] 📗

and Felix took a long walk outside the palace walls. At the gate they saw a little animal which seemed disposed to make friends with them. They had brought their guns with them, and Felix was on the point of firing at him when Louis interposed.

"That's a mongoose," said the latter. "Haven't you heard of him?"

"Never did."

"The creature is a sort of ichneumon, with a long body, extending back of his hind legs, which gradually decreases in size till it becomes his tail. His body is long, even without the portion of it which belongs to his caudal appendage. He has a small head and a sharp nose, and is something like a weasel. He has the reputation of being the great serpent-killer of India, and many wonderful stories are told of him. He is very useful about a house in destroying rats and other small nuisances."

The mongoose ran along ahead of the boys while Louis told what he knew about him. Felix protested that a little fellow like that couldn't do anything with such a cobra as he had shot the day before, for the snake was a trifle more than five feet long. They had gone but a short distance farther before Khayrat stepped out from a tree which had concealed him.

"There's a cobra in here somewhere," said the officer, who was one of the king's huntsmen. "I brought out my mongoose, but the little rascal has left me."

"There he is, just ahead of us," replied Louis. "He seems like a kitten, he is so tame."

"He is my pet, and I am very fond of him, for I think he saved my life once. I was just on the point of stepping on a cobra when Dinky attacked the snake and killed him after a fight," added Khayrat. "I think he is on the track of the enemy, for the serpent killed two chickens last night."

"There he is!" exclaimed Felix, as he brought his gun to his shoulder.

"Don't fire! Let Dinky take care of him; for my pet is spoiling for a fight, as one of the Americans said yesterday," interposed Khayrat.

The serpent was a large one, though not equal in size to the one Felix had shot the day before. He had erected his head, and spread out his hood, and he looked as ugly as sin itself. He knows all about the mongoose, and seems to have an instinctive hatred of his little but mighty enemy.

The little snake-killer made a spring at him, and then skilfully whirled himself around so that the snake could not bite him. Dinky knew what he was about all the time; and though his foe struck at him several times, he dodged him and put in several bites. After considerable manoeuvring, the snake appeared to have had enough of it, and deemed it prudent to beat a retreat. He dropped on the ground, and headed for a thicket; but this was just what Dinky wanted. He sprang upon the neck of the cobra, placing his fore-paws on him, and then crushed his spine with his sharp teeth. The serpent was dead, after writhing an instant.

The fight was ended, and Khayrat caressed the victor. Louis declared that the mongoose was a friend worth having, and immediately made a bargain with the huntsman to procure him a couple of them, and send them to Calcutta. They returned to the palace; and at the breakfast-table Louis told the story of the battle, in which all the Americans were much interested. But the business of the forenoon was the great Sowari, or public procession; and the party were conveyed in carriages to the pavilion, from the veranda of which they were to see the spectacle. An abundance of easy-chairs was provided for them, and they were made very comfortable.

It required more than an hour for the procession to pass the point of observation; and when the last of it had disappeared in the distance all the Americans declared that they had never seen anything, even in Europe, which could be compared with it in variety and magnificence. It was an Oriental spectacle, and the tourists could easily believe they had witnessed a pageant that had stepped out of the pages of the "Arabian Nights."

First came the regular soldiers of the Maharajah, who were sepoys, all under the command of English officers; and they marched like veterans who had been drilling half their lives. They were followed by a company of Arabs, who seemed to have been imported for the occasion. Sir Modava explained what the troops were as they passed. Next came a whole squadron of Mahratta cavalry, which looked as though they were serviceable soldiers of that arm, for they were good riders, well mounted, and were all lusty fellows.

After the cavalry came a troop of dromedaries with small cannons mounted on their backs, with gunners to work the pieces. The military portion of the procession was completed by several regiments of the Guicowar's special army. Following the household troops, apparently acting as an escort, came the royal standard-bearer, a personage of decided importance in an Oriental pageant. He was mounted alone on a huge elephant, magnificently caparisoned and adorned with the royal standard, a flag of cloth-of-gold, on a long staff.

In front of the elephant marched a band of eighteen or twenty native musicians, playing upon all sorts of Indian instruments, including tom-toms, lutes, like flageolets, cymbals, and horns. Surrounding the great beast that had the honor to bear the flag of the Mahratta States were numerous horsemen, all clothed in the richest Oriental costumes, armed with spears and curved sabres, with shining shields, and steel gauntlets on their hands. All these, and all the others, wore white turbans, picturesquely folded.

Behind the standard-bearer were two more elephants, each decked in all the splendor of the East; and mounted upon them were some of the great dignitaries of the court, over whom servants held highly fringed and ornamented umbrellas. In the procession was a troop of camels, all dressed out in the style of the horses and elephants. To say that the Americans were dazzled by the splendor of the scene would be to state it very mildly, for they were literally confounded and overwhelmed; and yet they had not seen the great feature of the spectacle, the Guicowar himself. Sir Modava had to talk very fast to describe the scene as it passed before them.

A dozen men, handsomely dressed like all the others, presently appeared, each bearing on a long pole something that looked like a crown. This was a sort of incense-censor, in which perfumes were burned, and from which a column of blue vapor proceeded. They were immediately before one of the king's elephants, which now came in front of the veranda. He was a gigantic creature, bearing on his back a howdah of solid gold. He was robed like the others, and the portions of his skin in sight were fantastically painted in various designs.

The howdah was surmounted by two pyramidal roofs, one in front of the other, supported by small columns. At the end of the elephant's tusks, which were sawed off square, were attached bouquets of rich feathers. On each side of the huge beast was a platform, suspended at the outside by golden cords, on which stood four men very richly dressed. One of them bears the hook, or pipe, presented to the Guicowar by the viceroy, another waves a banner, and the others flourish fans of peacock feathers. In front of the mahout is planted an ornament reaching nearly to the top of the howdah.

The golden howdah was presented by the Queen and Empress of India, and glitters with diamonds and other precious stones. The two domes make it look like two pavilions, and in the forward one sits the Guicowar in solemn dignity. He wears a tunic of scarlet velvet, which is covered with gold and diamonds. In fact, he seems to have diamonds enough to freight a schooner. Either he or one of his predecessors purchased a brilliant for which he paid the bagatelle of four hundred thousand dollars. Under the rear pavilion, and behind him, is the king's prime minister.

One of the officials at his side is the king's herald, who unfolds a flag of cloth-of-gold, and flourishes it before the people, and there are not less than a hundred thousand of them in the streets. As he does so he announces in good Hindustanee and in a loud voice a proclamation: "Srimunt Sircar! Khunderao Guicowar! Sena Khas Khel! Shamshar Bahadoor!"

"Exactly so," said Felix in a low tone.

"I suppose it is not given to outsiders to know what all that means?" added Louis.

"Certainly it is," replied Sir Modava. "It means, 'Behold the King of Kings, Khunderao Guicowar, whose army is invincible, whose courage is indomitable.'"

"Is that in a Pickwickian sense?" asked Scott.

"Not at all, for the Guicowar is as brave a man as ever put a foot into shoe-leather, or went barefooted," replied Lord Tremlyn, "though there is a little exaggeration common to the Orient in the proclamation."

As his Majesty came in front of the veranda the party rose and saluted him with low bows, and the waving of handkerchiefs by the ladies. He responded with a kingly smile and a graceful wave of the hand. The procession passed on, and shortly afterwards the booming cannon announced that the moment of the solemn benediction had come. The attentive officials of the court presently appeared with the carriages, and an invitation to the whole company to dine with the Guicowar again at his table.

They had to wait an hour for the king, but they found enough to interest them in observing the coming of numerous other guests. In an ante-room the floor was almost covered with shoes, many of them of the richest material, even with precious stones upon them. Sir Modava explained that Eastern etiquette required that the visitors going into the presence of the Maharajah should remove their shoes, but that Europeans and Americans were exempt from this requirement.

When the party entered they found the king seated in an apartment open to the air of heaven on two sides. All were barefoot or in their stocking-feet except the Gruicowar, who occupied a bench, or platform, at one side. He had removed his state garments, and was dressed in a suit of white linen. Most of the native officials present were seated on the floor; but the gentlemen of the visitors were invited to sit with his Highness, though only Lord Tremlyn and Sir Modava accepted it.

CHAPTER XXVII VARIOUS COMBATS IN THE GUICOWAR'S ARENA

The party remained a week at the palace of the Guicowar, and every day had a new pleasure or recreation. The king was as familiar with all the members as though they had belonged to his own household. He was sociable with them, and they ceased to be embarrassed in his presence. Even Mrs. Blossom no longer trembled before him, and he was as jolly with the boys as though he had been one of them.

On the day after the Sowari the gentlemen of the party were conducted to the arena of the elephants, which was a large enclosure, reminding those who had seen them of the bull-rings of Spain. It was surrounded by buildings; and on one side, behind a wall, was a vast area of elevated ground from which the people of the town could witness the scenes presented in the arena.

The ladies of the party had made the acquaintance of those of their own sex in the household, and the sports of the day had been discussed among them. On this day it was to be an elephant fight. The native women did not attend, for they never took part in any public affair. Mrs. Belgrave, as soon as she learned the nature of the entertainment, promptly declined to be present at it, and the others were of the same mind.

To make the best of it, it was a brutal sport. The elephant is a noble beast, so intelligent that he deserves the consideration of man; and to them it seemed barbarous to set them fighting, even if the animals had belligerent instincts, though they never displayed them in their domesticated condition unless under strong provocation. Some of the gentlemen regarded the exhibition as but little better than a prize-fight; though they all attended the occasion, for the more sensitive ones thought it would be impolite to decline the invitation, especially as the exhibition was got up especially for them.

They were ushered into a large apartment, one side of which consisted of lofty arches, through which the display could be