brigands, however, they were good to their friends. Those who paid the stipulated blackmail had nothing to fear from their raiding parties. They were consequently popular enough with the country-folk, who regarded them as national heroes, and as their defenders against the inroads of the infidels, and were always eager to keep them informed of the movements of the enemy and to warn them of any approaching danger. It is not too much to say that, except the large cities, and the spots where the Mughal armies were actually encamped, the Deccan was practically under the control of those highland robbers.
A good deal of this must have been apparent to the keen glance of Aurangzíb, as soon as he had come into personal relations with the Maráthás; but he was not to be turned from the course he had set before him. The religious bigotry of the enemy only inflamed his own puritanical zeal, and he was imprudent enough to insist on the strict levying of his poll-tax on Hindús – which had considerably helped the popularity of the Maráthás – in the very country where it was most important to lay aside Muhammadan prejudices. His first stop on arriving in the Deccan was to issue stringent orders for the collection of the hated jizya. The people and their headmen resisted and rioted in vain. A tried officer was detached with a force of horse and foot to extort the poll-tax and punish the recusants. It is significant that in three months this sagacious officer reported that he had collected the poll-tax of Burhánpúr for the past year (R26,000), and
