He resisted the temptation for some time, but when quite unable to do so any longer, he crept up to the feet of the chief, and most piteously begged him for the kalkay. The chief looked at him, and to his surprise recognizing him at once, said, "Ah! what is it, Lochan?" Lochan, growing bolder, looked up at his questioner, and said, "Can it be Pishemohashoy?"[1] The two men thus recognizing each other, the smoking pipe was handed over to Lochan, who, in obedience to etiquette that no one should smoke in the presence of one superior to himself, drew aside behind a palmyra tree and smoked to his heart's content.
Lochan then returned to his uncle's side and they began to converse.
"Well, Lochan," said Pishemohashoy, "what has brought you here? And how are you getting on? Have you got any family? I have neither seen nor heard of you for a long time. And there is good reason for it."
Lochan in reply informed his uncle how he had come there, and gave him all the particulars asked. He then asked his uncle why he was on the solitary seashore at that dark hour, apparently presiding over a court of justice. Lochan asked also why Pishemohashoy had for some years ceased all communication with his devoted nephew. To this the uncle replied, "Baba Lochan, hear my history from the time I left you, down to the present. You know that I was with the British army under Clive, and worked in the Commissariat, though it pleased me greatly to be present on the battlefield as often as I could. I was an interested spectator at the battle of Plassey, and just when Meer Jaffer with his men was about to leave the ranks of the Nawab for those of the English, a Mohamedan soldier on horseback rode up to the place where I was standing, and severed my head from my body. My body lay on the battlefield unnoticed and soon became food for dogs and jackals. My skull, however, remained intact, till a Jogi took it to his hut in the forest, and made a cup out
- ↑ The worshipful husband of my father's sister.
