Driftwood Spars | Page 7

only like water, was strong to soothe and heal. And our servants and people watched him doing this with wonder and admiration, and the news of it spread to the servants of Ibrahim Mahmud, who told their master of this cleverness of Mir Jan,--and Ibrahim, after a while, sent a message and a present to my brother, humbling himself, and asking that he too might see this thing.
"And Mir Jan, perhaps a little proud of his English ways, sat upon his charpai,[25] and bathed his eyes in the little bath, until, wearying of the trouble of pouring back the liquid into the bottle, he would press the bottle itself to his eye and throw back his head. So his eyes were quickly eased of pain, and in the evening we all went forth to enjoy.
[25] Native cot or bed.
"On his return to the room, Mir Jan flung himself, weary, upon his charpai and Moussa Isa lay across the doorway.
"In the morning my brother awoke and sitting on the charpai, took up the blue bottle, drew the cork, and raised the bottle towards his eyes. As he did this, Moussa Isa entered, and knowing not why he did so, sprang at his master and dashed the bottle from his hand. It fell to the ground but broke not, the floor being dhurrie[26]-covered.
[26] Carpet.
"In greatest amazement Mir Jan glanced from Moussa Isa to the bottle, clenching his hand to strike the boy--when behold! the very floor bubbled and smoked beneath the touch of the liquid as it ran from the bottle. By the Beard of the Prophet, that stone floor bubbled and smoked like water and the dhurrie was burnt! Snatching up the bottle my brother dropped drops from it upon the blade of his knife, upon the leather of his boots, upon paint and brass and clothing--and behold it was liquid fire, burning and corroding all that it touched! To me he called, and, being shown these things, I could scarce believe--and then I cried aloud 'Ibrahim Mahmud! Thine enemy!... Oh, my brother,--thine eyes!' and I remembered the words of Ibrahim, 'a vengeance that shall turn men pale as they whisper it--a thing of which children yet unborn shall speak with awe' and we rushed to his room,--to find it empty. He and his best camel and its driver were gone, but all his people and servants and oont-wallahs[27] were in the serai,[28] and said they knew not where he was, but had received a hookum[29] over-night to set out that day for Mekran Kot. And, catching up a pariah puppy, I re-entered the house and dropped one drop from the blue bottle into its eye. Sahib, even I pitied the creature and slew it quickly with my knife. And it was this that Ibrahim Mahmud had intended for the blue eyes of my beautiful brother. This was the vengeance of which men should speak in whispers. Those who saw and heard that puppy would speak of it in whispers indeed--or not at all. I felt sick and my fingers itched to madness for the throat of Ibrahim Mahmud. Had I seen him then, I would have put out his eyes with my thumbs. Nay--I would have used the burning liquid upon him as he had designed it should be used by my brother.
[27] Camel-men. [28] Halting-enclosure, rest-house. [29] Order.
"Hearing Mir Jan's voice, I hurried forth, and found that his white pacing-camel was already saddled and that he sat in the front seat, prepared to drive. 'Up, Daoud Khan' he cried to me 'we go a-hunting'--and I sprang to the rear saddle even as the camel rose. 'Lead on, Moussa Isa, and track as thou hast never tracked before, if thou wouldst live,' said he to the Somali, a noted paggi,[30] even among the Baluch and Sindhi paggis of the police at Peshawar and Kot Ghazi. 'I can track the path of yesterday's bird through the air and of yesterday's fish through the water,' answered the black boy; 'and I would find this Ibrahim by smell though he had blinded me,' and he led on. Down the Sudder Bazaar he went unfaltering, though hundreds of feet of camels, horses, bullocks and of men were treading its dust. As we passed the shop of the European hakim, yes, the kimmish, my brother leapt down and entering the shop asked questions. Returning and mounting he said to me: ''Tis as I thought. Hither he came last night, and, saying he was science-knowing failed B.Sc., demanded certain acids, that, being mixed, will eat up even gold--which no other acid can digest, nor even assail....'"
[30] Tracker.
"Aqua Regia, or vitriol, I believe," I murmured, still marvelling ... Ross-Ellison!
"Doubtless, if your honour is pleased to say so. 'He must have poured these acids into the bottle while