Stories of Bengalee Life/His Release/Chapter 3
III
Having made a profit of eight annas clean, the Khansama returned to the Dak Bungalow in high glee. He found his master walking about the verandah in an impatient manner.
Seeing the Khansama, the Sahib enquired of him in an angry voice the cause of his delay and took the tin from his hand. As soon as he saw the words "Hindu Biscuits" inscribed on the tin, he lost all control over himself and hurled it with a tremendous force at the head of his servant. The poor man was standing at the edge of the verandah and the impact sent him down to the ground below where a quantity of rubbish was lying scattered. The corner of the tin cut open the skin of his forehead and he bled profusely.
The Sahib, taking no notice of the man's condition, roared out—"You damned son of a pig—why did you bring these deshi biscuits?"
The Khansama managed to crawl up to the verandah again, and stood before his master, trembling with fear. With folded hands he said—"Huzoor,—I did buy bilati biscuits at first—but—"
"You did,—did you? What happened to them?"
"But Huzoor—The school-boys—" The Khansama thought he had much better bid good bye to his eight annas and confess that the boys had misled him into the belief that deshi biscuits were superior in quality and cheaper at the same time, so he bought them. He would however never do so again, &c., &c. But his master, burning with anger, interrupted him, saying—"What, the school-boys? Bande Mataram? They snatched your tin away—did they?"
The Khansama quickly changed his mind, thinking that this was by far the best way out of the difficulty. So he replied, bowing low,—"Yes, Huzoor—they snatched my bilati tin away."
"Why did you let them?"
"What could I do, Khodawund? I was alone and they were twenty or twenty-five against me."
The Sahib thought that things had happened exactly as he had been reading of late in the newspapers.
"You damned coward—why did you not call the Police?"
"I did, Gharibparwar—I shouted myself hoarse for the constables, but nobody turned up. The boys broke open the tin and scattering the biscuits on the street, began to dance on them, yelling Bundook Maro or some such thing. The Huzoor's tea was getting cold and as I had a rupee of my own in my pocket, I bought a deshi tin. The bilati tins could not be had for less than a rupee and a half, Dharamawatar."
The Sahib was convinced. "All right, I am going to see the District Magistrate at once about it. I will get these rascally boys clapped into jail"—he said, and taking his hat, marched off towards the Station Club.
The Magistrate, the Judge, the Police Superintendent and some other European officers were at the club. Some Mem-Sahibs were also present. The Judge and the Magistrate with their coats off and their shirt-sleeves tucked up, were playing a game of billiards. The Joint Magistrate, the Police Sahib and their respective wives, were playing bridge. The Civil Surgeon, with his pipe in his mouth, was turning over the leaves of the Illustrated London News. The gentlemen were drinking whisky-pegs and the ladies were sipping vermouth.
The tea-planter, arriving at the gate, sent in his card to the District Magistrate, and immediately was asked to walk in. He entered, hat in hand, murmuring that he was very sorry to intrude, and then related the whole of the affair as he had heard from his servant.
The Magistrate's face became livid with rage. Addressing the Superintendent of Police, he said—"I say, this is serious. This must be seen to at once."
The Police Sahib jumped to his feet, saying—"Yes, I will myself go and see to it." Making over his cards to the Civil Surgeon, he left the club with the tea-planter. On the way he ordered his Chuprassi to summon the Kotwali Daroga to the Dak Bungalow, at once.
Arriving at the Dak Bungalow, the tea-planter said—"While we wait for your Daroga, may I offer you a peg?"
"Thanks, I don't mind"—said the D. S. P.
The bottle, glasses and soda-water appeared on the table. Havanna cigars were produced also.
"'Tis really very good of you to take so much trouble"—said the tea-planter.
The D. S. P. remarked—"This Bande Mataram nuisance is getting intolerable day by day. The scoundrels of the National School must have done it."
The gentlemen then discussed over their glasses the state of unrest in the country, the impertinence of the present day Bengalis, the remissness of the Government in not adopting sterner measures and the criminal folly of the "White Babus" in Parliament in encouraging native lawlessness by their foolish questions.
In the meanwhile, Kasimulla Khan, the Daroga, arrived and saluting the D. S. P., stood attention.
"Daroga, do you know that there has been a disturbance in the bazar to-day?"
"Yes, Huzoor, I have just heard of it."
"What action have you taken?"
"I have deputed a Head Constable to find out the complainant, Sir."
"The complainant is here. Take down his itala and draw up a First Information Report at once."
"Yes, Huzoor,"—and the Daroga took the Khansama out into the verandah, and getting hold of a lamp, sat down to draw up the First Information. The Khansama gave the Daroga the same story as he had done to his master. In the midst of it the Daroga enquired—"Did they assault you and were you wounded?"
"Yes, they assaulted me rather severely and these are the wounds I received,—see Darogaji"—whined the Khansama and pointed out to him the wound on his forehead he had received at the hand of his master, as well as several bruises he had sustained by falling on the rubbish heap.
All this was in the hearing of the tea-planter, but he did not feel that there was any necessity of correcting his servant. He merely murmured to himself—"What liars these damned natives are!"
The First Information drawn up, the D. S. P. said to his Daroga—"You must arrest the culprits this very evening. Don't let them out on bail during the night." He then bade good night to the tea-planter and left.
The Daroga then approached the tea-planter and said with much deference,
"Will the Huzoor be pleased to give the Khansama leave of absence for a little while to come with me and identify the accused?"
"All right, you may go Khansama. Show the culprits to the Daroga."
The Khansama, with great hesitancy, said—"They were a large number of boys, Huzoor, and it was getting dark. I doubt if I could identify them."
"Soor,"—thundred his master—"If you can't identify the accused, I will dismiss you instantly."
"Jo Hukum, Huzoor"—murmured the poor man and walked off with the Daroga.
This excellent Police Officer, without making the slightest attempt at any kind of enquiry, betook himself to the Boarding House attached to the National School. None of the resident teachers were present then. Many of the students were also out. In the central room, four or five boys, sitting on grass mats, were preparing their lessons by the light of open earthen lamps. The Khansama pointed to three of the boys as having been in the row, and the Daroga forthwith arrested them.
Needless to say that these boys knew nothing of the affair. Greatly astonished, they exclaimed—"Why are you arresting us, Daroga Sahib? What have we done?"
"You shall know it in Court, young men"—was the Daroga's laconic reply. He gave these boys in custody of three constables and sent them to the thana.
The Daroga next took the Khansama to the Government Hospital and got his wounds examined by the resident surgeon and an injury report duly made out. This done, he wanted the Khansama to accompany him to the thana.
"But I have been late already and must go back to my master. What should I do at the thana?"
"Identify the accused."
"Haven't I done so already?"
"Yes, yes—but you must make yourself thoroughly acquainted with their faces to-night. To-morrow some Deputy Magistrate will come and mix up the three accused with half a dozen other boys of the same age—and you will be required to pick them out.[1] If you fail, bang goes your case."
"But the Sahib may be annoyed if I stay away long."
"Go and ask him for leave for a couple of hours."
The Khansama did as he was directed, explaining everything. His master gave him the leave, saying to himself—"How dishonest these dd native Police are!"
The Daroga then got hold of certain other "witnesses"—shopkeepers and others from the bazar and brought them to the thana. For fear of the Police they agreed to depose to the very little they had seen and a good deal they had not seen. The whole of the evening was spent in giving these "witnesses" a thorough drill as to their statements in Court, and also in preparing them for to-morrow's "honest identification."
- ↑ This procedure is known as "honest identification" in Police parlance.—Translator.