NAMGAY DOOLA
There came to the beach a poor exile of Erin, The dew on his wet robe hung heavy and chill; Ere the steamer that brought him had passed out of hearin', He was Alderman Mike inthrojuicin' a bill! AMERICAN SONG.
Once upon a time there was a King who lived on the road to Thibet, verymany miles in the Himalayas. His Kingdom was eleven thousand feet abovethe sea and exactly four miles square; but most of the miles stood onend owing to the nature of the country. His revenues were ratherless than four hundred pounds yearly, and they were expended in themaintenance of one elephant and a standing army of five men. He wastributary to the Indian Government, who allowed him certain sums forkeeping a section of the Himalaya-Thibet road in repair. He furtherincreased his revenues by selling timber to the railway-companies; forhe would cut the great deodar trees in his one forest, and they fellthundering into the Sutlej river and were swept down to the plains threehundred miles away and became railway-ties. Now and again this King,whose name does not matter, would mount a ringstraked horse and ridescores of miles to Simla-town to confer with the Lieutenant-Governoron matters of state, or to assure the Viceroy that his sword was at theservice of the Queen-Empress. Then the Viceroy would cause a ruffle ofdrums to be sounded, and the ringstraked horse and the cavalry of theState---two men in tatters--and the herald who bore the silver stickbefore the King would trot back to their own place, which lay betweenthe tail of a heaven-climbing glacier and a dark birch-forest.
Now, from such a King, always remembering that he possessed oneveritable elephant, and could count his descent for twelve hundredyears, I expected, when it was my fate to wander through his dominions,no more than mere license to live.
The night had closed in rain, and rolling clouds blotted out the lightsof the villages in the valley. Forty miles away, untouched by cloud orstorm, the white shoulder of Donga Pa--the Mountain of the Council ofthe Gods--upheld the Evening Star. The monkeys sang sorrowfully to eachother as they hunted for dry roosts in the fern-wreathed trees, and thelast puff of the day-wind brought from the unseen villages the scentof damp wood-smoke, hot cakes, dripping undergrowth, and rottingpine-cones. That is the true smell of the Himalayas, and if once itcreeps into the blood of a man, that man will at the last, forgettingall else, return to the hills to die. The clouds closed and the smellwent away, and there remained nothing in all the world except chillingwhite mist and the boom of the Sutlej river racing through the valleybelow. A fat-tailed sheep, who did not want to die, bleated piteouslyat my tent door. He was scuffling with the Prime Minister and theDirector-General of Public Education, and he was a royal gift to me andmy camp servants. I expressed my thanks suitably, and asked if I mighthave audience of the King. The Prime Minister readjusted his turban,which had fallen off in the struggle, and assured me that the Kingwould be very pleased to see me. Therefore I despatched two bottles as aforetaste, and when the sheep had entered upon another incarnation wentto the King's Palace through the wet. He had sent his army to escort me,but the army stayed to talk with my cook. Soldiers are very much alikeall the world over.
The Palace was a four-roomed and whitewashed mud and timber house, thefinest in all the hills for a day's journey. The King was dressed in apurple velvet jacket, white muslin trousers, and a saffron-yellow turbanof price. He gave me audience in a little carpeted room opening off thepalace courtyard which was occupied by the Elephant of State. The greatbeast was sheeted and anchored from trunk to tail, and the curve of hisback stood out grandly against the mist.
The Prime Minister and the Director-General of Public Education werepresent to introduce me, but all the court had been dismissed, lestthe two bottles aforesaid should corrupt their morals. The King cast awreath of heavy-scented flowers round my neck as I bowed, and inquiredhow my honoured presence had the felicity to be. I said that throughseeing his auspicious countenance the mists of the night had turnedinto sunshine, and that by reason of his beneficent sheep his gooddeeds would be remembered by the Gods. He said that since I had set mymagnificent foot in his Kingdom the crops would probably yield seventyper cent more than the average. I said that the fame of the King hadreached to the four corners of the earth, and that the nations gnashedtheir teeth when they heard daily of the glories of his realm and thewisdom of his moon-like Prime Minister and lotus-like Director-Generalof Public Education.
Then we sat down on clean white cushions, and I was at the King's righthand. Three minutes later he was telling me that the state of the maizecrop was something disgraceful, and that the railway-companies wouldnot pay him enough for his timber. The talk shifted to and fro with thebottles, and we discussed very many stately things, and the King becameconfidential on the subject of Government generally. Most of all hedwelt on the shortcomings of one of his subjects, who, from all I couldgather, had been paralyzing the executive.
'In the old days,' said the King, 'I could have ordered the Elephantyonder to trample him to death. Now I must e'en send him seventy milesacross the hills to be tried, and his keep would be upon the State. TheElephant eats everything.'
'What be the man's crimes, Rajah Sahib?' said I.
'Firstly, he is an outlander and no man of mine own people. Secondly,since of my favour I gave him land upon his first coming, he refuses topay revenue. Am I not the lord of the earth, above and below, entitledby right and custom to one-eighth of the crop? Yet this devil,establishing himself, refuses to pay a single tax; and he brings apoisonous spawn of babes.'
'Cast him into jail,' I said.
'Sahib,' the King answered, shifting a little on the cushions, 'once andonly once in these forty years sickness came upon me so that I was notable to go abroad. In that hour I made a vow to my God that I wouldnever again cut man or woman from the light of the sun and the air ofGod; for I perceived the nature of the punishment. How can I break myvow? Were it only the lopping of a hand or a foot I should not delay.But even that is impossible now that the English have rule. One oranother of my people'--he looked obliquely at the Director-General ofPublic Education--'would at once write a letter to the Viceroy, andperhaps I should be deprived of my ruffle of drums.'
He unscrewed the mouthpiece of his silver water-pipe, fitted a plainamber mouthpiece, and passed his pipe to me. 'Not content with refusingrevenue,' he continued,'this outlander refuses also the begar' (this wasthe corvee or forced labour on the roads) 'and stirs my people up to thelike treason. Yet he is, when he wills, an expert log-snatcher. There isnone better or bolder among my people to clear a block of the river whenthe logs stick fast.'
'But he worships strange Gods,' said the Prime Minister deferentially.
'For that I have no concern,' said the King, who was as tolerant asAkbar in matters of belief. 'To each man his own God and the fire orMother Earth for us all at last. It is the rebellion that offends me.'
'The King has an army,' I suggested. 'Has not the King burned the man'shouse and left him naked to the night dews?'
'Nay, a hut is a hut, and it holds the life of a man. But once, I sentmy army against him when his excuses became wearisome: of their headshe brake three across the top with a stick. The other two men ran away.Also the guns would not shoot.'
I had seen the equipment of the infantry. One-third of it was an oldmuzzle-loading fowling-piece, with a ragged rust-hole where the nipplesshould have been, one-third a wire-bound matchlock with a worm-eatenstock, and one-third a four-bore flint duck-gun without a flint.
'But it is to be remembered,' said the King, reaching out for thebottle, 'that he is a very expert log-snatcher and a man of a merryface. What shall I do to him, Sahib?'
This was interesting. The timid hill-folk would as soon have refusedtaxes to their king as revenues to their Gods.
'If it be the King's permission,' I said, 'I will not strike my tentstill the third day and I will see this man. The mercy of the King isGod-like, and rebellion is like unto the sin of witchcraft. Moreover,both the bottles and another be empty.'
'You have my leave t
o go,' said the King.
Next morning a crier went through the state proclaiming that there wasa log-jam on the river and that it behoved all loyal subjects to removeit. The people poured down from their villages to the moist warm valleyof poppy-fields; and the King and I went with them. Hundreds of dresseddeodar-logs had caught on a snag of rock, and the river was bringingdown more logs every minute to complete the blockade. The water snarledand wrenched and worried at the timber, and the population of the statebegan prodding the nearest logs with a pole in the hope of starting ageneral movement. Then there went up a shout of 'Namgay Doola! NamgayDoola!' and a large red-haired villager hurried up, stripping off hisclothes as he ran.
'That is he. That is the rebel,' said the King. 'Now will the dam becleared.'
'But why has he red hair?' I asked, since red hair among hill-folks isas common as blue or green.
'He is an outlander,' said the King. 'Well done! Oh well done!'
Namgay Doola had scrambled out on the jam and was clawing out the buttof a log with a rude sort of boat-hook. It slid forward slowly as analligator moves, three or four others followed it, and the green waterspouted through the gaps they had made. Then the villagers howled andshouted and scrambled across the logs, pulling and pushing the obstinatetimber, and the red head of Namgay Doola was chief among them all. Thelogs swayed and chafed and groaned as fresh consignments from upstreambattered the now weakening dam. All gave way at last in a smother offoam, racing logs, bobbing black heads and confusion indescribable. Theriver tossed everything before it. I saw the red head go down withthe last remnants of the jam and disappear between the great grindingtree-trunks. It rose close to the bank and blowing like a grampus.Namgay Doola wrung the water out of his eyes and made obeisance to theKing. I had time to observe him closely. The virulent redness of hisshock head and beard was most startling; and in the thicket of hairwrinkled above high cheek bones shone two very merry blue eyes. He wasindeed an outlander, but yet a Thibetan in language, habit, and attire.He spoke the Lepcha dialect with an indescribable softening of thegutturals. It was not so much a lisp as an accent.
'Whence comest thou?' I asked.
'From Thibet.' He pointed across the hills and grinned. That grin wentstraight to my heart. Mechanically I held out my hand and Namgay Doolashook it. No pure Thibetan would have understood the meaning of thegesture. He went away to look for his clothes, and as he climbed back tohis village, I heard a joyous yell that seemed unaccountably familiar.It was the whooping of Namgay Doola.
'You see now,' said the King, 'why I would not kill him. He is a boldman among my logs, but,' and he shook his head like a schoolmaster, 'Iknow that before long there will be complaints of him in the court. Letus return to the Palace and do justice.' It was that King's custom tojudge his subjects every day between eleven and three o'clock. I saw himdecide equitably in weighty matters of trespass, slander, and a littlewife-stealing. Then his brow clouded and he summoned me.
'Again it is Namgay Doola,' he said despairingly. 'Not content withrefusing revenue on his own part, he has bound half his village by anoath to the like treason. Never before has such a thing befallen me! Norare my taxes heavy.'
A rabbit-faced villager, with a blush-rose stuck behind his ear,advanced trembling. He had been in the conspiracy, but had toldeverything and hoped for the King's favour.
'O King,' said I, 'if it be the King's will let this matter stand overtill the morning. Only the Gods can do right swiftly, and it may be thatyonder villager has lied.'
'Nay, for I know the nature of Namgay Doola; but since a guest asks letthe matter remain. Wilt thou speak harshly to this red-headed outlander?He may listen to thee.'
I made an attempt that very evening, but for the life of me I could notkeep my countenance. Namgay Doola grinned persuasively, and began totell me about a big brown bear in a poppy-field by the river. Would Icare to shoot it? I spoke austerely on the sin of conspiracy, and thecertainty of punishment. Namgay Doola's face clouded for a moment.Shortly afterwards he withdrew from my tent, and I heard him singing tohimself softly among the pines. The words were unintelligible to me,but the tune, like his liquid insinuating speech, seemed the ghost ofsomething strangely familiar.
'Dir hane mard-i-yemen dir To weeree ala gee.'
sang Namgay Doola again and again, and I racked my brain for that losttune. It was not till after dinner that I discovered some one had cut asquare foot of velvet from the centre of my best camera-cloth. This mademe so angry that I wandered down the valley in the hope of meeting thebig brown bear. I could hear him grunting like a discontented pig in thepoppy-field, and I waited shoulder deep in the dew-dripping Indian cornto catch him after his meal. The moon was at full and drew out the richscent of the tasselled crop. Then I heard the anguished bellow ofa Himalayan cow, one of the little black crummies no bigger thanNewfoundland dogs. Two shadows that looked like a bear and her cubhurried past me. I was in act to fire when I saw that they had each abrilliant red head. The lesser animal was trailing some rope behind itthat left a dark track on the path. They passed within six feet ofme, and the shadow of the moonlight lay velvet-black on their faces.Velvet-black was exactly the word, for by all the powers of moonlightthey were masked in the velvet of my camera-cloth! I marvelled and wentto bed.
Next morning the Kingdom was in uproar. Namgay Doola, men said, had goneforth in the night and with a sharp knife had cut off the tail of acow belonging to the rabbit-faced villager who had betrayed him. It wassacrilege unspeakable against the Holy Cow. The State desired his blood,but he had retreated into his hut, barricaded the doors and windows withbig stones, and defied the world.
The King and I and the populace approached the hut cautiously. There wasno hope of capturing the man without loss of life, for from a hole inthe wall projected the muzzle of an extremely well-cared-for gun--theonly gun in the State that could shoot. Namgay Doola had narrowly misseda villager just before we came up. The Standing Army stood. It coulddo no more, for when it advanced pieces of sharp shale flew from thewindows. To these were added from time to time showers of scaldingwater. We saw red heads bobbing up and down in the hut. The familyof Namgay Doola were aiding their sire, and blood-curdling yells ofdefiance were the only answers to our prayers.
'Never,' said the King, puffing, 'has such a thing befallen my State.Next year I will certainly buy a little cannon.' He looked at meimploringly.
'Is there any priest in the Kingdom to whom he will listen?' said I, fora light was beginning to break upon me.
'He worships his own God,' said the Prime Minister. 'We can starve himout.'
'Let the white man approach,' said Namgay Doola from within. 'All othersI will kill. Send me the white man.'
The door was thrown open and I entered the smoky interior of a Thibetanhut crammed with children. And every child had flaming red hair. Araw cow's-tail lay on the floor, and by its side two pieces of blackvelvet--my black velvet--rudely hacked into the semblance of masks.
'And what is this shame, Namgay Doola?' said I.
He grinned more winningly than ever. 'There is no shame,' said he. 'Idid but cut off the tail of that man's cow. He betrayed me. I was mindedto shoot him, Sahib. But not to death. Indeed not to death. Only in thelegs.'
'And why at all, since it is the custom to pay revenue to the King? Whyat all?'
'By the God of my father I cannot tell,' said Namgay Doola.
'And who was thy father?'
'The same that had this gun.' He showed me his weapon--a Tower musketbearing date 1832 and the stamp of the Honourable East India Company.
'And thy father's name?' said I.
'Timlay Doola,' said he. 'At the first, I being then a little child, itis in my mind that he wore a red coat.'
'Of that I have no doubt. But repeat the name of thy father thrice orfour times.'
He obeyed, and I understood whence the puzzling accent in his speechcame. 'Thimla Dhula,' said he excitedly. 'To this hour I worship hisGod.'
'May I see that God?
'
'In a little while--at twilight time.'
'Rememberest thou aught of thy father's speech?'
'It is long ago. But there is one word which he said often. Thus "Shun."Then I and my brethren stood upon our feet, our hands to our sides.Thus.'
'Even so. And what was thy mother?'
'A woman of the hills. We be Lepchas of Darjeeling, but me they call anoutlander because my hair is as thou seest.'
The Thibetan woman, his wife, touched him on the arm gently. The longparley outside the fort had lasted far into the day. It was now closeupon twilight--the hour of the Angelus. Very solemnly, the red-headedbrats rose from the floor and formed a semicircle. Namgay Doola laidhis gun against the wall, lighted a little oil lamp, and set it before arecess in the wall. Pulling aside a curtain of dirty cloth, he revealeda worn brass crucifix leaning against the helmet-badge of a longforgotten East India regiment. 'Thus did my father,' he said, crossinghimself clumsily. The wife and children followed suit. Then all togetherthey struck up the wailing chant that I heard on the hillside--
Dir bane mard-i-yemen dir To weeree ala gee.
I was puzzled no longer. Again and again they crooned, as if theirhearts would break, their version of the chorus of the Wearing of theGreen--
They're hanging men and women too, For the wearing of the green.
A diabolical inspiration came to me. One of the brats, a boy about eightyears old, was watching me as he sang. I pulled out a rupee, heldthe coin between finger and thumb and looked--only looked--at thegun against the wall. A grin of brilliant and perfect comprehensionoverspread the face of the child. Never for an instant stopping thesong, he held out his hand for the money, and then slid the gun to myhand. I might have shot Namgay Doola as he chanted. But I was satisfied.The blood-instinct of the race held true. Namgay Doola drew the curtainacross the recess. Angelus was over.
'Thus my father sang. There was much more, but I have forgotten, and Ido not know the purport of these words, but it may be that the God willunderstand. I am not of this people, and I will not pay revenue.'
'And why?'
Again that soul-compelling grin. 'What occupation would be to me betweencrop and crop? It is better than scaring bears. But these people do notunderstand.' He picked the masks from the floor, and looked in my faceas simply as a child.
'By what road didst thou attain knowledge to make these devilries?' Isaid, pointing.
'I cannot tell. I am but a Lepcha of Darjeeling, and yet the stuff--'
'Which thou hast stolen.'
'Nay, surely. Did I steal? I desired it so. The stuff--the stuff--whatelse should I have done with the stuff?' He twisted the velvet betweenhis fingers.
'But the sin of maiming the cow--consider that.'
'That is true; but oh, Sahib, that man betrayed me and I had nothought--but the heifer's tail waved in the moonlight and I had myknife. What else should I have done? The tail came off ere I was aware.Sahib, thou knowest more than I.'
'That is true,' said I. 'Stay within the door. I go to speak to theKing.'
The population of the State were ranged on the hillsides. I went forthand spoke to the King.
'O King,' said I. 'Touching this man there be two courses open to thywisdom. Thou canst either hang him from a tree, he and his brood, tillthere remains no hair that is red within the land.'
'Nay' said the King. 'Why should I hurt the little children?'
They had poured out of the hut door and were making plump obeisance toeverybody. Namgay Doola waited with his gun across his arm.
'Or thou canst, discarding the impiety of the cow-maiming, raise him tohonour in thy Army. He comes of a race that will not pay revenue. A redflame is in his blood which comes out at the top of his head in thatglowing hair. Make him chief of the Army. Give him honour as may befall,and full allowance of work, but look to it, O King, that neither he norhis hold a foot of earth from thee henceforward. Feed him with words andfavour, and also liquor from certain bottles that thou knowest of, andhe will be a bulwark of defence. But deny him even a tuft of grass forhis own. This is the nature that God has given him. Moreover he hasbrethren--'
The State groaned unanimously.
'But if his brethren come, they will surely fight with each other tillthey die; or else the one will always give information concerning theother. Shall he be of thy Army, O King? Choose.'
The King bowed his head, and I said, 'Come forth, Namgay Doola, andcommand the King's Army. Thy name shall no more be Namgay in the mouthsof men, but Patsay Doola, for as thou hast said, I know.'
Then Namgay Doola, new christened Patsay Doola, son of Timlay Doola,which is Tim Doolan gone very wrong indeed, clasped the King's feet,cuffed the Standing Army, and hurried in an agony of contrition fromtemple to temple, making offerings for the sin of cattle-maiming.
And the King was so pleased with my perspicacity, that he offered tosell me a village for twenty pounds sterling. But I buy no villages inthe Himalayas so long as one red head flares between the tail of theheaven-climbing glacier and the dark birch-forest.
I know that breed.