Part 6 (1/2)
”Thou art welcome, nephew,” said the old man whose long white beard contrasted with his gay-coloured, juvenile garments, that better matched the vivacity of the straight narrow eyes. The black astrachan cap perched on the reverend head, however, suited neither. ”Sit ye down, boy, and watch my b.u.t.ting rams! Yonder is the Earth Trembler--peace be on my ancestor's grave ... and this is the Barbarian Ghengis--no offence meant to thine, young Chagatai! Three _tumans_ of gold, Muzaffar, he smashes the other's horn first b.u.t.t!”
The man he addressed, who had been, Heaven knows why, prime favourite for years, and showed his position by the most arrogant of airs, turned to his neighbour. ”Not I; a certainty is no bet for me, though by our compact, Excellence, I would get my fair share of two-thirds back, if you won! But Berunduk Birlas here, having lost his best hawk after bustard to-day, is in a mood for tears, and would like to lose gold also.”
Berunduk Birlas, the ablest man at the court, shook his head sadly.
”Of a truth, friend, my loss is great enough to content me. Had my sons died or broken their necks I could not grieve more than for my true falcon-jinny Brighteyes! No man could desire a more captivating beauty.”
Sultan Hussain went off into a peal of laughter. ”Li! where is Ali-s.h.i.+r? Where is our poet? Brighteyes the captivating beauty who catches hairs, eh? There is a subject for word-play. Out with a _ghazel_ on the spot, friend Ali.”
A thin, elegant-looking man with a pale, refined face, got up and made a perfect salute. From head to foot he was exquisite, the Beau Brummel of his age.
”Look,” nudged one young courtier to another enviously, ”he hath a new knot to his kerchief. How, in G.o.d's name, think you, is it tied?”
The incomparable person paused for one second only; then in the most polished of voices he poured out a lengthy ode, deftly ringing the changes on the word ”_baz_” (falcon) which in Persian has at least a dozen different meanings.
A ripple of laughter followed his somewhat forced allusions, and he sat down again amid a chorus of applause.
Babar stood dum-foundered, yet in every fibre of his body sympathetic.
Here was something new indeed! A new world very different from the rough and tumble clash of arms and swords and polo sticks at Andijan; but a world where, mayhap, he might hold his own.
”Well done! Well done!” he cried with the rest, and his uncle the Sultan nodded approval at the lad.
”Sit ye down, sit ye down!” he said; ”and, cupbearer! a beaker of s.h.i.+raz wine for the King of Ferghana!”
For the life of him the boy could not refrain from one swift look at Kasim's face, Kasim who was all shocked propriety at such a violation of the rules both of Islam and Ghengis Khan; but after that one scared glance dignity came back.
”Your Highness!” he said, with pomp, waving his hand towards one of the b.u.t.ting rams, ”like my ancestor the Barbarian I drink water only.”
A smile went round the a.s.sembly and young Babar felt a glow of pride that he had not fallen so far short in wit. Thereinafter he sat and listened with wide eyes. His uncle was certainly a lively, pleasant man; but his temper was a bit hasty and so were his words. Still, despite that and overfreedom with the wine cup, he evidently had a profound reverence for the faith, since at the proper hour he put on a small turban tied in three folds, broad and showy, and, having placed a plume on it, went in this style to prayers!
That night when Kasim was snoring in the tent and the hundred-and-a-half or thereabouts of his followers were slumbering peacefully, full up of kid _pullao_, Babar lay awake. He was composing an ode for the first time in his life. It was a sorry composition of no value except that it filled him with desire to do better.
CHAPTER IV
In this world's inn, where sweetest song abounds There is no prelude to one song that sounds; The guests have quaffed their wine and pa.s.sed away Their cups were empty and they would not stay.
No sage, no stripling, not a hand but thine Has held this goblet of poetic wine; Rise, then, and sing! Thy fear behind thee cast And, be it clear or dull, bring forth the wine thou hast.
_Jami_.
Babar could not tear himself away from his uncle's camp. He lingered on and on, watching the military operations with a more or less critical eye, but absorbing culture wholesale.
It was a revelation to him, meeting men to whom fighting was not the end and aim of life; and these Begs and n.o.bles of his uncle's court, though they were all supposed to be engaged in warfare with Khosrau Shah who was holding Hissar over the river, for his nominee the nincomp.o.o.p, had yet time for other things.
Ali-s.h.i.+r, for instance, was wise beyond belief in all ways.
Incomparable man! So kind, so courteous. Babar profited by his guidance and encouragement in his efforts to civilise himself. Thus becoming--since there is not in history any man who was greater patron of talent than Ali-s.h.i.+r--one of that great company of poets, painters, professors, and musicians who owe everything to him, who, pa.s.sing through this world single and unenc.u.mbered by wife or child, gave himself and his time up to the instruction of others.
So far, therefore, as the clash of intellect went, young Babar was satisfied. In regard to the clash of arms it was different. How such a mighty body of Mirzas, Begs, and chiefs, who, with their followers, if they were not double the number of the enemy over the water were _at least_ one-and-a-half times that number, could content themselves with practical inaction pa.s.sed his understanding.
When, too, they had such battering rams and catapults as positively made his mouth water! There was one of the latter which threw such a quant.i.ty of stones and with such accuracy that in half an hour--just before bedtime prayers--the enemy's fort was beautifully breached. But the night being deemed rather dark for a.s.sault and the troops preferring the safety and comfort of their trenches, no immediate attack was made; the result being that before morning the breach was repaired.