Ballads and Barrack-room Ballads
•^ergradOMI \r^a$-fc^ \r >\'^r.--?j<r ^'b'- :)f , 1 Co WOLCOTT BALESTIER Beyond the path of the outmost sun, through utter dark- ness hurled. Further than ever comet flared or vagrant star-dust swirled. Sit such as fought and scUled and ruled and loved and made our world. They are purged of pride because they died; they know the worth of their bays ; They sit at wine with the Maidens Nine^ and the Gods of the Elder Days-r- It is their will to serve or be still as fitteth our Father^s praise, "^Tis theirs to sweep through the ringing deep where AzraeVs outposts are. Or buffet a path through the Pifs red wrath when God goes out to war. Or hang with the reckless Seraphim on the rein of a red- maned star. They take their mirth in the joy of the earth — they dare not grieve for her pain — For they know of toil and the end oftoil^-they know GocTs Law is plain ; So they whistle the Devil to make them sport who know that sin is vain. And ofttimes comet h our wise Lord God, master of every trade, And tells them tales of the Seventh Day — of Edens newly mcuie. And they rise to their feet as He passes by— gentlemen un- afraid. To these who are cleansed of base Desire^ Sorrow and Lust and Shame — Gods^ for they knew the heart of Men — menj for they stooped to Fame — Borne on the breath that men caUDeathy my brother* s spirit came. Scarce had he need to cast his pride or slough the drots of earth, EPen as he trod thai day to God, so walked he from his birth-- In simpleness and gentleness and honour and clean mirth. So, cup to up in fellowship, they gave him welcome high And made him place at the banquet board, the Strong Men ranged thereby y Who had done his work and held his peace and had no fear to die. Beyond the loom of the last lone star through open darkness hurled. Further than rebel comet dared or hiving star-swarm sTvirledy Sits he with such as praise our God for that th^ served his world. PREFACE The greater part of the * Barrack-Room Ballads,^ as well as * Cleared,^ * Totnlinson* and ' The English Flag' have appeared in the * National Observer,' Messrs, MacmiUan and Co, have kindly given me permission to repro- duce four ballads contributed to their Magazine^ and I am indebted to the ' St. James Gazette ' for a like courtesy in regard to the ballads of the * Clampherdown * and * Bolivar^ and the ' Imperial Rescript' * The Rhyme of the Three Captains * was printed first in the ^ Athenceum' I fancy that most of the other verses are new, RUDYARD KIPLING. CONTENTS Ballads PAGE THE BALLAD OF EAST AND WEST Oh East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet^ 3 THE LAST SUTTEE Udai Chand lay sick to death, 12 THE BALLAD OF THE KING'S MERCY Abdhur Rahman, the Durani Chief, of him is the story told, 18 THE BALLAD OF THE KING'S JEST When spring-time flushes the desert grass, . . 25 WITH SCINDIA TO DELHI The wreath of banquet overnight lay withered on the neck, 31 THE BALLAD OF BOH DA THONE This is the ballad of Boh Da Thone, ... 40 THE LAMENT OF THE BORDER CATTLE THIEF O woe is me for the merry life, • • • • 53 XI rii CONTENTS PAGB THE RHYME OF THE THREE CAPTAINS ... At the close of a winter day, .... 56 THE BALLAD OF THE « CLAMPHERDOWN ' It was oar war-ship ' Gampherdown/ ... 64 THE BALLAD OF THE 'BOLIVAR' Seven men from all the world, back to docks again, 69 THE LOST LEGION There^s a legion that never was ''listed, ... 74 THE SACRIFICE OF ER-HEB Er-Heb beyond the hills of Ao-Safai, ... 77 THE DOVE OF DACCA The freed dove flew to the Rajah's tower — ' . . 88 THE EXPLANATION Love and Death once ceased their strife, • . 90 AN ANSWER A rose, in tatters on the garden path, ... 91 THE GIFT OF THE SEA The dead child lay in the shroud, .... 92 EVARRA AND HIS GODS Read here : This is the story of Evarra — ^man — , . 96 CONTENTS THE CONUNDRUM OF THE WORKSHOPS When the Sush of a new-bom son fell licst on Eden's green and gold, !N THE NEOLITHIC AGE In the Neolithic Age aavtge warfare did 1 wage, THE LEGEND OF EVIL This ii the sorrowful story, THE ENGLISH FLAG Winds of the World, give answer ? The; are whim- pering to and fro — , 'CLEARED' Help for a patriot distressed, a spotless spirit hurt,. AN IMPERUL RESCRIPT Now this is the tale of the Council the German Kidser TOMLINSON Now Tomlinson gave up the ghost in his house in Befkele; Square, xiv CONTENTS Barrack-Room Ballads PAGB DANNY DEEVER 'What are the bugles blowin' for?' said Files-on- Parade, 143 TOMMY I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o' beer, • 146 « FUZZY-WUZZY ' We've fought with many men acrost the seas, •. 150 SOLDIER, SOLDIER ' Soldier, soldier, come from the wars,'. • • 153 SCREW-GUNS Smokin' my pipe on the mountings, sniffin' the mornin' cool, 156 CELLS I've a head like a concertina : I've a tongue like m button-stick, 160 GUNGA DIN You may talk o' gin and beer, • •. .163 CONTENTS XV PAGB OONTS! Wot makes the soldier's 'eart to penk, wot makes him to perspire? 167 LOOT If you've ever stole a pheasant-egg be'ind the keeper's back, 171 ' SN ARLEYO W ' This 'appened in a battle to a batt'ry of the corps,. 175 THE WIDOW AT WINDSOR 'Ave you 'eard o' the Widow at Windsor,. 179 BELTS There was a row in Silver Street that's near to Dublin Quay, 182 THE YOUNG BRITISH SOLDIER When the 'arf-made recruity goes out to the East,. 186 MANDALAY By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' eastward to the sea, 190 TROOPIN' ^ Troopin', troopin', troopin' to the sea,. • 194 xvi CONTENTS PAGI THE WIDOWS PARTY * Where have you been this while mway/ • • 197 FORD O' KABUL RIVER Kabul town's by Kabul river — ^1 • • • • 200 GENTLEMEN-RANKERS To the Legion of the Lost Ones to the Cohort of the Damned, 203 ROUTE-MARCHIN' We're marchin' on relief over Injia's sunny plains,. 206 SHILLIN' A DAY My name is O'Kelly, I've heard the revelly,. And turned the calkins upon her feet, and ridden hbr far away. S 4 THE BALLAD OF Then up and spoke the ColonePs son that led a troop of the Guides : 'Is there never a man of all my men can say where Kamal hides?' Then up and spoke Mahommed Khan^ the son of die Ressaldar, 'If ye know the track of the moming-mist, ye know where his pickets are. 'At dusk he harries the Abazai — at dawn he is into Bonair, 'But he must go by Fort Bukloh to his own place to fare, 'So if ye gallop to Fort Bukloh as fast as a bird can fly. 'By the favour of God ye may cut him off ere he win to the Tongue of Jagai, 'But if he be passed the Tongue of Jagai, right swiftly turn ye then, 'For the length and the breadth of that grisly plain is sown with Kamal' s men. 'There is rock to the left, and rock to the right, and low lean thorn between, 'And ye may hear a breech-bolt snick where never a man is seen.* EAST AND WEST 5 The Coloners son has taken a horse^ and a raw rough dun was he, With the mouth of a bell and the heart of Hell, and the head of the gallows-tree. The Colonel's son to the Fort has won, they bid him stay to eat — Who rides at the tail of a Border thief, he sits not long at his meat. He*s up and away from Fort Bukloh as fast as he can fly. Till he was aware of his father's mare in the gut of the Tongue of Jagai, Till he was aware of his father's mare with Kamal upon her back. And when he could spy the white of her eye, he made the pistol crack. He has fired once, he has fired twice, but the whist- ling ball went wide. 'Ye shoot like a soldier,' Kamal said. 'Show now if ye can ride.' It's up and over the Tongue of Jagai, as blown dust- devils go, The dun he fled like a stag of ten, but the mare like a barren doe. 6 THE BALLAD OF The dun he leaned against the bit. and slugged his head above, But the red mare played with the snaffle-bars, as a maiden plays with a glove. There was rock to the left and rock to the right, and' low lean thorn between. And thrice he heard a breech-bolt snick tho* never a man was seen. They have ridden the low moon out of the sky, their hoofs drum up the dawn. The dun he went like a wounded bull, but the mare like a new-roused fawn. The dun he fell at a water-course — in a woful heap fell he. And Kamal has turned the red mare back, and pulled the rider free. He has knocked the pistol out of his hand — small room was there to strive, *'Twas only by favour of mine,' quoth he, 'ye rode so long alive : 'There was not a rock for twenty mile, there was not a clump of tree, 'But covered a man of my own men with his rifle cocked on his knee. EAST AND WEST 7 'If I had raised my bridle-hand^ as I have held it low, 'The little jackals that flee so fast^ were feasting all in a row : 'If I had bowed my head on my breast^ as I have held it high, 'The kite that whistles above us now were gorged till she could not fly.* Lightly answered the Colonel's son: — *Do good to bird and beast^ 'But count who come for the broken meats before thou makest a feast. 'If there should follow a thousand swords to carry my bones away, 'Belike the price of a jackal's meal were more than a thief could pay. 'They will feed their horse on the standing crop, their men on the garnered grain, 'The thatch of the byres will serve their fires when all the cattle are slain. 'But if thou thinkest the price be fair, — thy brethren wait to sup, *The hound is kin to the jackal-spawn, — howl, dog, and call them upl 8 THE BALLAD OF 'And if thou thinkest the price be high, in steel and gear and stack, 'Give me my father's mare again, and I'll fight my own way back 1 ' Kamal has gripped him by the hand and set him upon his feet. 'No talk shall be of dogs/ said he, 'when wolf and grey wolf meet. 'May I eat dirt if thou hast hurt of me in deed or breath; 'What dam of lances brought thee forth to jest at the dawn with Death? * Lightly answered the Colonel's son: 'I hold by the blood of my clan : I 'Take up the mare for my father's gift — by God, she has carried a man ! ' The red mare ran to the Colonel's son, and nuzzled against his breast, 'We be two strong men,' said Kamal then, 'but she loveth the younger best. 'So she shall go with a lifter's dower, my turquoise- studded rein, 'My broidered saddle and saddle-cloth, and silver stirrups twain.' EAST AND WEST 9 The Colonel's son a pistol drew and held it muzzle- endy *Ye have taken the one from a foe,' said he; 'will ye take the mate from a friend? * 'A gift for a gift/ said Kamal straight; 'a limb for the risk of a limb. 'Thy father has sent his son to me, I'll send my son to him 1 ' With that he whistled his only son, that dropped from a mountain-crest — He trod the ling like a buck in spring, and he looked like a lance in rest. 'Now here is thy master,* Kamal said, 'who leads a troop of the Guides, 'And thou must ride at his left side as shield on shoulder rides. 'Till Death or I cut loose the tie, at camp and board and bed, 'Thy life is his — thy fate it is to guard him with thy head. •'So thou must eat the White Queen's meat, and all her foes are thine, 'And thou must harry thy father's hold for the peace of the Border-line^ 10 THE BALLAD OF 'And thou must make a trooper tough and hack thy way to power — * Belike they will raise thee to Ressaldar when I am hanged in Peshawur.' They have looked each other between the eyes, and there they found no fault, They have taken the Oath of the Brother-in-Blood on leavened bread and salt : They have taken the Oath of the Brother-in-Blood on fire and fresh-cut sod. On the hilt and the haft of the Khyber knife, and the Wondrous Names of God. The Colonel's son he rides the mare and Kamal's boy the dun. And two have come back to Fort Bukloh where there went forth but one. And when they drew to the Quarter-Guard, full twenty swords flew clear — There was not a man but carried his feud with the blood of the mountaineer. *Ha* done ! ha* done ! ' said the Colonel's son, *Put up the steel at your sides ! EAST AND WEST 11 *Last night ye had struck at a Border thief — to- night 'tis a man of the Guides! ' Oh^ £ast is Easty and West is West, and never the two shall meet. Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God*s great Judgment Seat; But there is neither East nor West^ Border , nor Breed, nor Birth, When two strong men stand face to face, tho^ they come from the ends of the earth. THE LAST SUTTEE Not many years ago a King died in one of the Rajpoot States, His wives, disregarding the orders of the En^ish against suttee, would have broken out of the palace had not the gates been barred. But one of them, disguised as the King's favourite dancing-girl, passed through the line of guards and reached the pyre. There, her courage fail- ing, she prayed her cousin, a baron of the court, to kill her. This he did, not knowing who she was, Udai Chand lay sick to death In his hold by Gungra hill. All night we heard the death-gongs ring For the soul of the dying Rajpoot King, All night beat up from the women's wing A cry that we could not still. All night the barons came and went, The lords of the outer guard : All night the cressets glimmered pale On Ulwar sabre and Tonk jezail, Mewar headstall and Marwar mail. That clinked in the palace yard. 12 THE LAST SUTTEE 18 In the Golden room on the palace roof All night he fought for air : And there was sobbing behind the screen. Rustle and whisper of women unseen. And the hungry eyes of the Boondi Queen On the death she might not share. He passed at dawn — ^the death-fire leaped From ridge to river-head, From the Malwa plains to the Abu scaurs: And wail upon wail went up to the stars Behind the grim zenana-bars, When they knew that the King was dead. The dumb priest knelt to tie his mouth And robe him for the pyre. The Boondi Queen beneath us cried : 'See, now, that we die as our mothers died 'In the bridal-bed by our master's side! 'Out, women ! — to the fire ! * We drove the great gates home apace : White hands were on the sill : 14 THE LAST SUTTEE But ere the rush of the unseen feet Had reached the turn to the open street, The bars shot down, the guard-drum beat— We held the dove-cot still. A face looked down in the gathering day. And laughing spoke from the wall : *0h6, they mourn here: let me by — ^Azizun, the Lucknow nautch-girl, I? *When the house is rotten, the rats must fly, 'And I seek another thrall. *For I ruled the King as ne'er did Queen, — 'To-night the Queens rule me ! 'Guard them safely, but let me go, 'Or ever they pay the debt they owe 'In scourge and torture ! * She leaped below. And the grim guard watched her flee. They knew that the King had spent his soul On a North-bred dancing-girl : That he prayed to a flat-nosed Lucknow god, And kissed the ground where her feet had trod, And doomed to death at her drunken nod And swore by her lightest curl. THE LAST SUTTEE 16 We bore the King to his fathers' place. Where the tombs of the Sun-bom stand: Where the grey apes swing, and the peacocks preen On fretted pillar and jewelled screen, And the wild boar couch in the house of the Queen On the drift of the desert sand. The herald read his titles forth, We set the logs aglow : 'Friend of the English, free from fear, 'Baron of Luni to Jeysulmeer, 'Lord of the Desert of Bikaneer, 'King of the Jungle, — go I * All night the red flame stabbed the sky With wavering wind-tossed spears : And out of a shattered temple crept A woman who veiled her head and wept, And called on the King — ^but the great King slept, And turned not for her tears. Small thought had he to mark the strife- Cold fear with hot desire — 16 THE LAST SUTTEE When thrice she leaped from the leaping flame. And thrice she beat her breast for shame. And thrice like a wounded dove she came And moaned about the fire. One watched, a bow-shot from the blaze. The silent streets between, Who had stood by the King in sport and fray. To blade in ambush or boar at bay, And he was a baron old and grey. And kin to the Boondi Queen. He said: ^O shameless, put aside 'The veil upon thy brow I 'Who held the King and all his land 'To the wanton will of a harlot's hand I 'Will the white ash rise from the blistered brand? 'Stoop down, and call him now ! ' Then she: 'By the faith of my tarnished soul, 'AH things I did not well 'I had hoped to clear ere the fire died, 'And lay me down by my master's side 'To rule in Heaven his only bride, 'While the others howl in HelL THE LAST SUTTEE 17 *But I have felt the fire's breath, 'And hard it is to die ! 'Yet if I may pray a Rajpoot lord 'To sully the steel of a Thakur's sword 'With base-bom blood of a trade abhorred/— And the Thakur answered, 'Ay.' He drew and struck : the straight blade drank The life beneath the breast. 'I had looked for the Queen to face the flame, 'But the harlot dies for the Rajpoot dame — 'Sister of mine, pass, free from shame. 'Pass with thy King to rest ! ' The black log crashed above the white : The little flames and lean. Red as slaughter and blue as steel. That whistled and fluttered from head to heel. Leaped up anew, for they found their meal On the heart of — the Boondi Queen! B THE BALLAD OF THE KING'S MERCY Abdhur Rahman^ the Durani Chiefs of him is th^ story told. His mercy fills the Khyber hills — his grace is manifold; He has taken toll of the North and the South — his glory reacheth far^ And they tell the tale of his charity from Balkh to Kandahar. Be/ore the old Peshawur Gate, where Kurd and Kaffir meet, The Governor of Kabul dealt the Justice of the Street, And that was strait as running noose and swift a plunging knife, Tho* he who held the longer purse might hold the longer life. 18 THE KING'S MERCY 19 There was a hound of Hindustan had struck a Euzufzaiy Wherefore they spat upon his face and led him out to die. It chanced the King went forth that hour when throat was bared to knife; The Kaffir grovelled under-hoof and clamoured for his life. Then said the King: 'Have hope, O friend! Yea, Death disgraced is hard; 'Much honour shall be thine ' ; and called the Captain of the Guard, Yar Khan, a bastard of the Blood, so city-babble saith, And he was honoured of the King — the which is salt to Death; And he was son of Daoud %ah the Reiver of the Plains, And blood of old Durani Lords ran fire in his veins; And 'twas to tame an Afghan pride nor Hell nor Heaven could bind. The King would make him butcher to a yelping cur of Hind. 20 THE BALLAD OF 'Strike! said the King. 'King's blood art thou — his death shall be his pride ! ' Then louder, that the crowd might catch: 'Fear not — his arms are tied ! ' Yar Khan drew clear the Khyber knife, and struck, and sheathed again. *0 man, thy will is done,' quoth he; 'A King this dog hath slain.' Abdhur Rahman^ the Durani Chief y to the North and the South is sold. The North and the South shall open their mouth to a Ghihaiflag unrolled^ When the big guns speak to the Khyber peak, and his dog'Heratis fiyy Ye have heard the song — How long? How long? Wolves of the Abazai! That night before the watch was set, when all the streets were clear. The Governor of Kabul spoke: 'My King, hast thou no fear? 'Thouknowest — thou hast heard,* — ^his speech died at his nuister's face. THE KING'S MERCY 21 And grimly said the Afghan King: 'I rule the Afghan race. 'My path is mine — see thou to thine — to-night upon thy bed 'Think who there be in Kabul now that clamour for thy head. * That night when all the gates were shut to City and to Throne, Within a little garden-house the King lay down alone. Before the sinking of the moon, which is the Night of Night, Yar Khan came softly to the King to make his honour white. The children of the town had mocked beneath his horse's hoofs. The harlots of the town had hailed him 'butcher!' from their roofs. But as he groped against the wall, two hands upon him fell, The King behind his shoulder spoke: 'Dead man, thou dost not well ! 22 THE BALLAD OF "Tis ill to jest with Kings by day and seek a boon by night; 'And that thou bearest in thy hand is all too sharp to write. 'But three days hence, if God be good, and if thy strength remain, 'Thou shalt demand one boon of me and bless me in thy pain. 'For I am merciful to all, and most of all to thee. 'My butcher of the shambles, rest — no knife hast thou for me ! ' Abdhur Rahmany the Durani Chiefs holds hard by the South and the North; But the Ghilzai knows ^ ere the melting snows ^ when the swollen banks break forth^ When the red-coats crawl to the sungar wall, and his Usbeg lances fail. Ye have heard the song — How long? How long? Wolves of the Zuka Kheyli They stoned him in the rubbish-field when dawn was in the sky. According to the written word, 'See that he do not die.' THE KING'S MERCY 23 They stoned him till the stones were piled above him on the plain^ And those the labouring limbs displaced they tumbled back again. One watched beside the dreary mound that veiled the battered thing, And him the King with laughter called the Herald of the King. It was upon the second night, the night of Ramazan, The watcher leaning earthward heard the message of Yar Klhan. From shattered breast through shrivelled lips broke forth the rattling breath : * Creature of God, deliver me from agony of Death.' They sought the King among his girls, and risked their lives thereby: 'Protector of the Pitiful, give orders that he die 1 ' 'Bid him endure until the day,' a lagging answer came; 'The night is short, and he can pray and learn to bless my name.' 24 THE KING'S MERCY Before the dawn three times he spoke^ and on the day once more : 'Creature of God, deliver me and bless the King therefore 1 ' They shot him at the morning prayer, to ease him of his pain, And when he heard the matchlocks clink, he blessed the King again. Which thing the singers made a song for all the world to sing, So that the Outer Seas may know the mercy of the King. Abdhur Rahman^ the Durani Chiefs of him is the story told. He has opened his mouth to the North and the Souths they have stuffed his mouth with gold. Ye know the truth of his tender ruth — and sweet his favours are. Ye have heard the song — How long? How long? from Balkh to Kandahar. THE BALLAD OF THE KING'S JEST When spring-time flushes the desert grass, Our kafilas wind through the Klhyber Pass. Lean are the camels but fat the frails, Light are the purses but heavy the bales, As the snowbound trade of the North comes down To the market-square of Peshawur town. In a turquoise twilight, crisp and chill, A kafila camped at the foot of the hill. Then blue smoke-haze of the cooking rose. And tentpeg answered to hammer-nose; And the picketed ponies shag and wild, Strained at their ropes as the feed was piled; And the bubbling camels beside the load Sprawled for a furlong adown the road; And the Persian pussy-cats, brought for sale. Spat at the dogs from the camel-bale; And the tribesmen bellowed to hasten the food; 2& 26 THE BALLAD OF And the camp-fires twinkled by Fort Jumrood; And there fled on the wings of the gathering dusk A savour of camels and carpets and musk, A murmur of voices, a reek of smoke, To tell us the trade of the Khyber woke. The lid of the flesh-pot chattered high. The knives were whetted and — then came I To Mahbub AH, the muleteer. Patching his bridles and counting his gear, Crammed with the gossip of half a year. But Mahbub Ali the kindly said, 'Better is speech when the belly is fed.' So we plunged the hand to the mid-wrist deep In a cinnamon stew of the fat-tailed sheep. And he who never hath tasted the food. By Allah ! he knoweth not bad from good. We cleansed our beards of the mutton-grease. We lay on the ftiats and were filled with peace, And the talk slid north, and the talk slid south, With the sliding puffs from the hookah-mouth. Four things greater than all things are, — Women and Horses and Power and War. We spake of them all, but the last the most, THE KING'S JEST 27 For I sought a word of a Russian post. Of a shifty promise, an unsheathed sword And a grey-coat guard on the Helmund ford. Then Mahbub Ali lowered his eyes In the fashion of one who is weaving lies. Quoth he : 'Of the Russians who can say? 'When the night is gathering all is grey. 'But we look that the gloom of the night shall die 'In the morning flush of a blood-red sky. 'Friend of my heart, is it meet or wise 'To warn a King of his enemies? 'We know what Heaven or Hell may bring, 'But no man knoweth the mind of the King. 'That unsought counsel is cursed of God 'Attesteth the story of Wali Dad. ' His sire was leaky of tongue and pen, ' His dam was a clucking Khuttuck hen ; ' And the colt bred close to the vice of each, ' For he carried the curse of an unstaunched speech. 'Therewith madness — so that he sought 'The favour of kings at the Kabul court ; 'And travelled, in hope of honour, far 'To the line where the grey-coat squadrons are. 'There have I journeyed too — but I 28 THE BALLAD OF ^Saw naught, said naught, and— did not die! 'He hearked to rumour, and snatched at a breath 'Of "this one knoweth " and "that one saith,"— 'Legends that ran from mouth to mouth 'Of a grey-coat coming, and sack of the^ South. 'These have I also heard — they pass 'With each new spring and the winter grass. 'Hot-foot southward, forgotten of God, 'Back to the city ran Wali Dad, 'Even to Kabul — in full durbar 'The King held talk with his Chief in War, 'Into the press of the crowd he broke, 'And what he had heard of the coming spoke. 'Then Gholam Hyder, the Red Chief, smiled, 'As a mother might on a babbling child; 'But those who would laugh restrained their breath, 'When the face of the King showed dark as death. 'Evil it is in full durbar 'To cry to a ruler of gathering war! 'Slowly he led to a peach-tree small, 'That grew by a cleft of the city wall. 'And he said to the boy: "They shall praise thy zeal "'So long as the red spurt follows the steel. THE KING'S JEST 29 "And the Russ is upon us even now? " Great is thy prudence — await them, thou. "Watch from the tree. Thou art young and strong, "Surely thy vigil is not for long. "The Russ is upon us, thy clamour ran? " Surely an hour shall bring their van. " Wait and watch. When- the host is near, "Shout aloud that my men may hear." Friend of my heart, is it meet or wise To warn a King of his enemies? A guard was set that he might not flee — A score of bayonets ringed the tree. The peach-bloom fell in showers of snow. When he shook at his death as he looked below. By the power of God, who alone is great. Till the seventh day he fought with his fate. Then madness took him, and men declare He mowed in the branches as ape and bear, And last as a sloth, ere his body failed. And he hung as a bat in the forks, and wailed. And sleep the cord of his hands untied, And he fell, and was caught on the points and died. Heart of my heart, is it meet or wise To warn a King of his enemies? 80 THE KING'S JEST *We know what Heaven or Hell may bring, 'But no man knoweth the mind of the King. *0f the grey-coat coming who can say? 'When the night is gathering all is grey. *Two things greater than all things are, *The first is Love, and the second War. 'And since we know not how War may prove, 'Heart of my heart, let us talk of Love I ' WITH SCINDIA to DELHI m More inan a hundred years ago, in a great battle fought near Delhi^ an Indian Prince rode fifty miles after the day was lost with a beggar-girl, who had loved him and followed him in all his camps, on his saddle-bow. He lost the girl when almost within sight of safety » A Maratta trooper tells the story : — TjJE wreath of banquet overnight lay withered on the neck; Oiir hands and scarves were saffron-dyed for signal of despair. When we went forth to Paniput to battle with the Mlech, — Ere we came back from Paniput and left a king- dom there. Thrice thirty-thousand men were we to force the Jumna fords — The hawk-winged horse of Damajee, mailed squadrons of the Bhao, Copyright, 1892, by Macmillan & Co. 31 32 WITH SCINDIA TO DELHI Stark levies of the southern hills, the Deccan's » sharpest swords, And he the harlot's traitor son the goatherd Mulhar Rao ! Thrice thirty-thousand men were we before the mists had cleared, The low white mists of morning heard the war- conch scream and bray; We called upon Bhowani and we gripped them by the beard. We rolled upon them like a flood and washed their ranks away* The children of the hills of Khost before our lances ran. We drove the black Rohillas back as cattle to the pen; 'Twas then we needed Mulhar Rao to end what we began, A thousand men had saved the charge; he fled the fleld with ten! WITH SCINDIA TO DELHI 33 There was no room to clear a sword — no power to strike a blow, For foot to foot, ay, breast to breast, the battle held us fast — Save where the naked hill men ran and stabbing from below Brought down the horse and rider and we trampled them and passed. To left the roar of musketry rang like a falling flood- To right the sunshine rippled red from redder lance and blade — Above the dark C/psaras^ hew, beneath us plashed the blood. And, bellying black against the dust, the Bhagwa Jhanda swayed. I saw it fall in smoke and fire, the banner of the Bhao; I heard a voice across the press of one who called in vain : — 1 The Choosers of the Slain. C 84 WITH SCINDIA TO DELHI ^Hol Anand Rao Nimbalkhur ride! Get aid oi Mulhar Rao ! 'Go shame his squadrons into fight — the Bhao — the Bhao is slain 1' Thereat, as when a sand-bar breaks m clotted spume and spray — When rain of later autumn sweeps the Jumna water-head, Before their charge from flank to flank our riven ranks gave way; But of the waters of that flood the Jumna fords ran red. I held by Scindia, my lord, as close as man might hold; A Soobah of the Deccan asks no aid to guard his life; But Holkar's Horse were flying, and our chief est chiefs were cold. And like a flame among us leapt the long lean Northern knife. WITH SCINDIA TO DELHI 35 I held by Scindia — my lance from butt to tuft was dyed, The froth of battle bossed the shield and roped the bridle-chain — What time beneath our horses' feet a maiden rose and cried, And clung to Scindia, and I turned a sword-cut from the twain. (He set a spell upon the maid in woodlands long ago, A hunter by the Tapti banks she gave him water there: He turned her heart to water, and she followed to her woe. What need had he of Lalun who had twenty maids as fair?) Now in that hour strength left my lord; he wrenched his mare aside; He bound the girl behind him and we slashed and struggled free. 36 WITH SCINDIA TO DELHI Across the reeling wreck of strife we rode as shadows ride From Paniput to Delhi town, but not alone were we. 'Twas Lutuf-Ullah Populzai laid horse upon our track, A swine-fed reiver of the North that lusted for the maid; I might have barred his path awhile, but Scindia called me back. And I — Oh woe for Scindia! — I listened and obeyed. League after league the formless scrub took shape and glided by — League after league the white road swirled behind the white mare*s feet — League after league, when leagues were done, we heard the Populzai, Where sure as Time and swift as Death the tireless footfall beat WITH SCINDIA TO DELHI 37 Noon's eye beheld that shame of flight, the shadows fell, we fled Where steadfast as the wheeling kite he followed in our train; The black wolf warred where we had warred, the jackal mocked our dead, And terror bom of twilight tide made mad the labouring brain. I gasped: — ^*A kingdom waits my lord; her love is but her own. * A day shall mar, a day shall cure for her, but what for thee? 'Cut loose the girl: he follows fast. Cut loose and ride alone ! ' Then Scindia 'twixt his blistered lips: — *My Queens' Queen shall she be 1 'Of all who eat my bread last night 'twas she alone that came *To seek her love between the spears and find her crown therein ! 38 WITH SCINDIA TO DELHI ^One shame is mine to-day, what need the weight of double shame? ^If once we reach the Delhi gate, though all be lostj I win ! ' We rode — the white mare failed — her trot a stagger- ing stumble grew, — The cooking-smoke of even rose and weltered and hung low; And still we heard the Fopulzai and still we strained anew. And Delhi town was very near, but nearer was the foe. Yea, Delhi town was very near when Lalun whispered : —'Slay! *Lord of my life, the mare sinks fast — stab deep and let me die ! ' But Scindia would not, and the maid tore free and flung away. And turning as she fell we heard the clattering Fopulzai. WITH SCINDIA TO DELHI 39 Then Scindia checked the gasping mare that rocked and groaned for breath, And wheeled to charge and plunged the knife a hands-breadth in her side — The hunter and the hunted know how that last pause is death — The blood had chilled about her heart, she reared and fell and died. Our Gods were kind. Before he heard the maiden's piteous scream A log upon the Delhi road, beneath the mare he lay — Lost mistress and lost battle passed before him like a dream; The darkness closed about his eyes — I bore my King away. THE BALLAD OF BOH DA THONE 77tis is the ballad of Boh Da Thone^ Erst a Pretender to Theebaw's throne^ Who harried the district of Alalone : How he met with his fate and the VJPJP^ At the hand of Harendra Muketyi, Senior Gomashtay GJB,T, Boh Da Thone was a warrior bold, His sword and his Snider were bossed with gold, And the Peacock Banner his henchmen bore Was stiff with bullion but stiffer with gore. He shot at the strong and he slashed at the weak From the Salween scrub to the Chindwin teak : He crucified noble, he sacrificed mean, He filled old women with kerosene : While over the water the papers cried, *The patriot fights for his countryside ! ' 40 BOH DA THONE 41 But little they cared for the Native Press, The worn white soldiers in Khaki dress. Who tramped through the jungle and camped in the byre. Who died in the swamp and were tombed in the mire. Who gave up their lives, at the Queen's Command, For the Pride of their Race and the Peace of the ^ Land. Now, first of the foemen of Boh Da Thone Was Captain 0*Neil of the 'Black Tyrone,' And his was a Company, seventy strong. Who hustled that dissolute Chief along. There were lads from Galway and Louth and Meath Who went to their death with a joke in their teeth, And worshipped with fluency, fervour, and zeal The mud on the boot-heels of 'Crook * O'Neil. But ever a blight on their labours lay. And ever their quarry would vanish away. 42 ' THE BALLAD OF Till the sun-dried boys of the Black T3rrone Took a brotherly interest in Boh Da Thone : And, sooth, if pursuit in possession ends. The Boh and his trackers were best of friends. The word of a scout — a march by night — A rush through the mist — 2l scattering fight — A volley from cover — a corpse in the clearing — The glimpse of a loin-cloth and heavy jade earrings The flare of a village — the tally of slain — And ... the Boh was abroad 'on the raid * again I They cursed their luck as the Irish will, They gave him credit for cunning and skill, They buried their dead, they bolted their beef. And started anew on the track of the thief Till, in place of the * Kalends of Greece,* men said, 'When Crook and his darlings come back with the head.* They had hunted the Boh from the Hills to the plain — He doubled and broke for the hills again: BOH DA THONE 43 They had crippled his power for rapine and raid. They had routed him out of his pet stockade, And at last, they came, when the Day Star tired. To a camp deserted— a village fired. / A black cross blistered the Morning-gold, And the body upon it was stark and cold. The wind of the dawn went merrily past. The high grass bowed her plumes to the blast And out of the grass, on a sudden, broke A spirtle of fire, a whorl of smoke — And Captain O'Neil of the Black Tyrone Was blessed with a slug in the ulna-bone — The gift of his enemy Boh Da Thone. (Now a slug that is hammered from telegraph-wire Is a thorn in the flesh and a rankling fire.) The shot-wound festered — as shot-wounds may In a steaming barrack at Mandalay. The left arm throbbed, and the Captain swore, *I'd like to be after the Boh once more 1 ' 44 THE BALLAD OF The fever held him — the Captain said, 'I*d give a hundred to look at his headl ' The Hospital punkahs creaked and whirred. But Babu Harendra (Gk)mashta) heard. He thought of the cane-brake, green and dank. That girdled his home by the Dacca tank. He thought of his wife and his High School son. He thought — ^but abandoned the thought— of a gun. His sleep was broken by visions dread Of a shining Boh with a silver head. He kept his counsel and went his way. And swindled the cartmen of half their pay. And the months went on, as the worst must do, And the Boh returned to the raid anew. But the Captain ha<l quitted the long-drawn strife, And in far Simoorie had taken a wife. And she was a damsel of delicate mould, With hair like the sunshine and heart of gold, BOH DA THONE 45 And little she knew the arms that embraced Had cloven a man from the brow to the waist: And little she knew that the loving lips Had ordered a quivering life's eclipse, And the eye that lit at her lightest breath Had glared imawed in the Gates of Death. (For these be matters a man would hide, As a general rule, from an innocent Bride.) And little the Captain thought of the past, And, of all men, Babu Harendra last. But slow, in the sludge of the Kathun road. The Government Bullock Train toted its load. Speckless and spotless and shining with ghee^ In the rearmost cart sat the Babu-jee. And ever a phantom before him fled Of a scowling Boh with a silver head. Then the lead-cart stuck, though the coolies slaved, And the cartmen flogged and the escort raved; 46 THE BALLAD OF And out of the jungle, with yells and squeals, Pranced Boh Da Thone, and his gang at his heels ! Then belching blunderbuss answered back The Snider*s snarl and the carbine's crack, And the blithe revolver began to sing To the blade that twanged on the locking-ring, And the brown flesh blued where the bayonet kissed, As the steel shot back with a wrench and a twist. And the great white bullocks with onyx eyes Watched the souls of the dead arise. And over the smoke of the fusillade The Peacock Banner staggered and swayed. Oh, gayest of scrimmages man may see Is a well-worked rush on the G.B.T. ! The Babu shook at the horrible sight. And girded his ponderous loins for flight, But Fate had ordained that the Boh should start On a lone-hand raid of the rearmost cart. BOH DA THONE 47 And out of that cart^ with a bellow of woe. The Babu fell— flat on the top of the Boh 1 For years had Harendra served the State, To the growth of his purse and the girth of his ptt— There were twenty stone, as the tally-man knows, On the broad of the chest of this best of Bohs. And twenty stone from a height discharged Are bad for a Boh with a spleen enlarged. Oh, short was the struggle — severe was the shock — He dropped like a bullock — he lay like a block; And the Babu above him, convulsed with fear, Heard the labouring life-breath hissed out in his ear. And thus in a fashion undignified The princely pest of the Chindwin died. Turn now to Simoorie where, lapped in his ease. The Captain is petting the Bride on his knees. 48 THE BALLAD OF Where the whit of the bullet, the wounded man^s scream Are mixed as the mist of some devilish dream — Forgotten, forgotten the sweat of the shambles Where the hill-daisy blooms and the grey monkey gambols, From the sword-belt set free and released from the steel, The Peace of the Lord is with Captain 0*NeiL Up the hill to Simoorie — most patient of drudges — The bags on his shoulder, the mail-runner trudges. *For Captain 0*Neil, Sahib, One hundred and ten Rupees to collect on delivery.' Then (Their breakfast was stopped while the screw-jack and hammer Tore wax-cloth, split teak-wood, and chipped out the dammer;) Open-eyed, open-mouthed, on the napery's snow. With a crash and a thud, rolled — the Head of the Bohl BOH DA THONE 49 And gummed to the scalp was a letter which ran: — *In Fielding Force Service. * Encampmenty 'loth Jan. 'Dear Sir, — I have honour to send, as you said^ *For final approval (see under) Boh's Head; *Was took by myself in most bloody affair. *By High Education brought pressure to bear, 'Now violate Liberty, time being bad, *To mail V.P.P. (rupees hundred) Please add 'Whatever Your Honour can pass. Price of Blood 'Much cheap at one hundred, and children want food 'So trusting Your Honour will somewhat retain 'True love and affection for Gk)vt. Bullock Train, 'And show awful kindness to satisfy me, 'I am, 'Graceful Master, 'Your 'H. Mukerji.* 50 THE BALLAD OF As the rabbit is drawn to the rattlesnake's power, As the smoker's eye fills at the opium hour. As a horse reaches up to the manger above, As the waiting ear yearns for the whisper of love, From the arms of the Bride, iron-visaged and slow. The Captain bent down to the Head of the Boh. And e'en as he looked on the Thing where It lay 'Twixt the winking new spoons and the napkins* array. The freed mind fled back to the long-ago days The hand-to-hand scuffle — the smoke and the blaze — The forced march at night and the quick rush at dawn — The banjo at twilight, the burial ere mom — The stench of the marshes — ^the raw, piercing smell When the overhand stabbing-cut silenced the yell — The oaths of his Irish that surged when they stood Where the black crosses hung o'er the Kuttamow flood. 