" And the whole party set off at a brisk trot, I keeping
silence, and thinking with no little trepidation of what I was about to
encounter.
As we rode along, I heard two of the men commenting upon my unusual
silence (for I suppose, I--that is the Indian--was a talkative officer).
"The lips of the Bahawder are closed," said one. "Where are those birds
of Paradise, his long-tailed words? they are imprisoned between the
golden bars of his teeth!"
"Kush," said his companion, "be quiet! Bobbachy Bahawder has seen the
dreadful Feringhee, Gahagan Khan Gujputi, the elephant-lord, whose sword
reaps the harvest of death; there is but one champion who can wear the
papooshes of the elephant-slayer--it is Bobbachy Bahawder!"
"You speak truly, Puneeree Muckun, the Bahawder ruminates on the
words of the unbeliever: he is an ostrich, and hatches the eggs of his
thoughts."
"Bekhusm! on my nose be it! May the young birds, his actions, be strong
and swift in flight."
"May they DIGEST IRON!" said Puneeree Muckun, who was evidently a wag in
his way.
"O-ho!" thought I, as suddenly the light flashed upon me. "It was, then,
the famous Bobbachy Bahawder, whom I overcame just now! and he is the
man destined to stand in my slippers, is he?" and I was at that very
moment standing in his own! Such are the chances and changes that fall
to the lot of the soldier!
I suppose everybody--everybody who has been in India, at least--has
heard the name of Bobbachy Bahawder: it is derived from the two
Hindustanee words--bobbachy, general; bahawder, artilleryman.
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