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Updated: May 4, 2025
Suddenly we heard the chanter of the itinerant Jadoo-wallah, and as usual I called him in to ask him if he had anything new. I wanted a really wonderful trick. "Yes Saheb" he replied "I have something really good, that few sahebs have seen before."
She put the keys in the Butler's hand, and if he asked for money she gave it. But one person is of one disposition and another is of another disposition." "That is true," replies the ex-butler, "but the sahebs are better than the mem sahebs. The sahebs are hot and get angry sometimes, but under them a man can live and eat a mouthful of bread.
With the mem sahebs it is nothing but worry, worry, worry. Why is this so dirty? Who broke that plate? When was that glass cracked? Alas! why do the sahebs marry such women?" Old Ramjee then withdraws his beeree from his mouth and sheds light on the subject. "You see, in England there are very few women, for which reason it is that so many sahebs remain unmarried.
No sooner had the Sahebs finished their dinner than the servants disappeared into their tents, and securing themselves within, as strongly as they could, devoutly hoped that the morning light would find them still alive and unharmed. One evening Sir M. retired to his own tent immediately after dinner.
I decided to have a good dinner it is the empty stomach that all sorts of incurable diseases find an easy prey. I sent for my cook and gave orders for a rich, sumptuous moghlai dinner, redolent of spices and ghi. Next morning the whole affair appeared a queer fantasy. With a light heart I put on a sola hat like the sahebs, and drove out to my work.
Wherever a "tazia" or tomb is a-building, there gather all the Mohurrum performers, the Nal Sahebs or Lord Horse-shoes, the tigers and the mummers of Protean disguise. The spot becomes an "Akhada" or tryst at which the tomb-builders entertain all comers with draughts of sherbet or sugared water, but not with betel which has no place in seasons of mourning.
The four Sahebs were in the verandah in a trice, and soon discovered the chowkidar returning to the verandah, visibly shaken and without his blanket. "What is the matter, and who shouted?" asked the Manager. "Saheb," the chowkidar replied in a quavering voice "a tiger sprang on me and caught the knot of my blanket." "Here!" interrupted the four Englishmen incredulously.
An untimely explosion of wrath will generally blow a sensitive Hamal's wits quite out of his own reach, and of course, out of yours; or, if he is of the stolid sort, he will set it down as a phenomenon incidental to sahebs, but without any bearing on the matter in hand, and he will go on as before.
The tiger fell backwards off the verandah mortally wounded, but to the amazement of the Sahebs struggled tip and made another attempt to get at B. He was however too badly wounded and fell back dead. B.'s hand and arm were terribly mauled, and after medical treatment he had to go home on long leave. A Maharajah's Adventures
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