Anandamath

Chapter V

Then both of them consulted together in whispers. After consultation Jivananda hid himself in a forest. Santi entered a different forest and began to behave in a strange manner.

Santi was going to die, she had decided to dress in feminine apparel at the time of her death. Mohendra had declared her man’s guise to be a false trick. It was no use dying in false colours. So she had brought her basket containing feminine nick-nacks with her. All her apparels and articles were there. Nabinananda now opened her basket and began changing her dress.

She painted her face putting a pretty sepia spot between the eye-brows; she half covered her moon like face with pretty curls as was the fashion at that time and then in the dress of a Vaishnabi with a Sarang in her hand she made her appearance in the British Camp. Seeing her the Sepahis with beards of the colour of a jet black bumble­bee became enamoured and excited. Some ordered her to sing a Tappa song, another a Gazal, a third a song about Kali, a fourth about Krishna and all had their desires satisfied. Some gave her rice, some a quantity of pulse, another sugar, and still another pice or a four anna bit. When the Vaishnabi was on the point of leaving after carefully studying the situation in the camp, the Sepahis asked her, “When are you coming again?” The Vaishnabi said, “I don’t know when that will be. My home is far off from here.” The Sepahis enquired, “How far?” The Vaishnabi said, “I live at Padachinha.” On that very day the Major Sahib was making enquiries about Padachinha; one of the Sipahis knew that. He took the Vaishnabi to the Captain. He took her to the Major. The Vaishnabi smiled sweetly, enamoured the Major with a piercingly glamorous glance, then striking her cymbals together she sang —

Sahib asked her, “Where do you live Bibi?”

The Bibi answered, “I am not a Bibi, I am a Vaishnabi. My home is at Padachinha.”

Sahib: Where is that Adsin padsin? Is there a gar (meaning a fort) there?

Vaishnabi: Ghar? О yes, there are any number of ghars (meaning rooms).

Sahib: O, no, not ghar, but gar.

Sahib: I understand what you are driving at. You mean a fort?

Sahib: Yes, a Gar, a Gar — that’s what I mean. Is there one?

Santi: Yes, there is a fort, a very big fort indeed.

Sahib: How many men are there in that fort?

Santi: How many stay there? Twenty to fifty thousands.

Sahib: Nonsense! There can be only two to four thousands in one fort. Are they all there? Or they have left?

Santi: Where will they go?

Sahib: To the fair? — When did you leave the place?

Santi: I left yesterday, Sahib.

Sahib: They may have left the fort by this time.

Santi was thinking mentally, “If I don’t cook the dinner for your burial service, I paint my face in vain. When will the jackals eat your head and I shall have the pleasure to witness it?” Aloud she said, “Sahib, it may be what you say; they may have left today. I don’t know such details. I am only a Vaishnabi and earn my living by singing from door to door. I don’t care to know such particulars. My throat is sore with talking, come, let me have my tip and go. Make the tip worth it, I shall come day after tomorrow and bring information.”

Sahib threw down a rupee and said, “Bibi, not day after tomorrow please.”

Santi: For shame, you blessed mother’s son! Call me Vaishnabi, not Bibi.

Edwards: Not day after, tonight I must have the news.

Santi: You lay your head on the butt of your gun and with mustard oil in your nostrils go to sleep. I shall go twenty miles and come back again twenty miles on foot! Chhuncho-beta. (You son of a rat.)

Sahib: What is a chhuncho-beta?

Santi: It means a hero, a big general.

Edwards: I may become a great general like Clive. But I must have the information today. I shall give you a reward of rupees hundred.

Santi: You may give me hundred or even up to a thousand. But my two poor legs will not be able to cover forty miles.

Edwards: On horse back?

Santi: If I knew how to ride a horse why should I come and beg in your camp with a Sarang?

Edwards: You will ride pillion with me.

Santi: I shall ride pillion with you? Do you think I am shameless?

Edwards: What a bother! I shall give you five hundred rupees.

Sahib: Who will go, you yourself?

The Sahib then pointed out a young ensign Mr. Lindley standing in front of him and asked him, “Lindley, will you go?” Enamoured with Santi’s youth and beauty he answered, “Most gladly.”

A big Arabian horse was got ready and Lindley made preparations to start. He wanted to pick up Santi and put her on the horse. Santi remonstrated, “For shame! In the presence of so many people? Do you think I have no shame? Let us get out of the camp.”

Lindley got upon the horse and went on at a slow pace. Santi followed him on foot. In this manner they left the camp.

Reaching a lonely field outside the British camp Santi put her foot on Lindley’s foot and in one leap vaulted on the horse. Lindley laughed and said, “You seem to be a trained rider.”

Santi said, “We are so well-trained that I feel ashamed to ride with you. Fie! It is silly to ride with the help of stirrups.”

Just to show off his cleverness Lindley removed his foot from the stirrup. Immediately Santi gripped his neck and threw down the foolish Englishman. Then Santi seating herself properly on horse-back struck the side of the horse with her ankles and set the Arabian horse at full gallop. For four years continually living and moving with the Santan army Santi had learnt riding very well indeed. Could she live with Jivananda unless she did all that? Lindley lay there with his legs fractured. Santi rode away like the very winds.

Santi went to the forest where Jivananda was in hiding and acquainted him with all these facts. Jivananda said, “Then let me go and warn Mahehdra. You go to the fair and inform Satyananda. You go on horse-back, so that our Master may get the news quickly.” Then the two rushed away different ways. It is needless to say, Santi again put on the garb of Nabinananda.