Chapter Nine

Having taken his leave of his father with his troops, Jagatsingh wrought such deeds among the Pathan forces that a great terror spread through their ranks. The Prince had vowed to drive Katlu Khan's fifty thousand across the Subarnarekha with his five thousand — a feat he had not yet accomplished in full — yet the qualities of command he had displayed in two weeks since quitting camp were such that Mansingh, upon hearing of them, declared: "I believe that through my son the ancient glory of the Rajput name shall be rekindled."

Jagatsingh knew well that to repulse fifty thousand in open battle with five thousand was in no wise possible — defeat or death would be the certain issue. Accordingly he abandoned all thought of pitched engagement and adopted a manner of warfare designed to avoid it altogether. He kept his small force perpetually concealed — deep in jungle, or among that undulating country of the region where the land rises and falls like the waves of the sea — encamping always in hollows screened by rising ground, so that none could spy his men even from close at hand. Lying thus hidden, whenever he received intelligence of a small Pathan detachment, he would fall upon them with the swiftness of a breaking wave and annihilate them utterly. He maintained a large body of spies who, disguised as sellers of fruit, fish, and roots, or as mendicant wandering Brahmins and physicians, moved freely about the country and brought back word of the enemy's movements. The moment intelligence arrived, Jagatsingh would advance with the utmost caution, yet swiftly, and post his men in such ground as allowed him to fall upon the approaching Pathans with complete surprise. If the enemy proved numerous, he would make no open movement against them — for he knew that a single defeat in his present circumstances would ruin all. He would then follow at a distance when they marched, and carry off their stores, horses, and guns. But if the Pathan party were weak, he would lie still in concealment until they had come to a position of his choosing, and then, with the roar of a famished tiger, hurl himself and his men upon the wretched Pathans and cut them to pieces. In such encounters the enemy had no knowledge of the foe's proximity; they were wholly unprepared for battle; and falling suddenly into the torrent of his onset, they perished almost without resistance.

By these means vast numbers of Pathans were destroyed. The Pathans grew greatly distressed and exerted themselves particularly to seek out Jagatsingh's force and destroy it in the open field. But where Jagatsingh's troops lay, no man could discover; they appeared only at the moment of a Pathan detachment's death, like messengers of Yama, accomplished their work, and vanished. Jagatsingh was skilled in stratagem: he never kept his five thousand assembled in one body — here a thousand, there five hundred, elsewhere two hundred or two thousand, despatched as occasion and intelligence required, and never left in the same place once their work was done. The Pathans could never determine where the Rajputs were and where they were not. Day upon day, tidings of fresh losses poured into Katlu Khan's camp — ill news at morning, at noon, and at evening alike. In the end it became all but impossible for Pathan troops to leave the fort in small numbers for any purpose. Pillaging ceased entirely; the soldiery took shelter within the walls; and the very procurement of provisions became a matter of extreme difficulty. When Maharaja Mansingh received these tidings of the orderly governance of a territory so lately ravaged by the enemy, he wrote to his son thus:

"Ornament of our line! I learn that the kingdom shall be cleared of Pathans through thy doing; wherefore I send thee ten thousand men more as reinforcement."

The Prince wrote back:

"As the Maharaja wills. More troops are welcome. Yet, if they come not, this servant shall, with five thousand, by the grace of his Highness's feet, fulfil the vow befitting the Kshatriya race."

Thus the Prince, intoxicated with the pride of valour, went from victory to victory unchecked. But O Shaileshwar! — in the courts of thy temple, the warrior who was laid low by the candid gaze of that fair one — did that lady never once enter his thoughts amidst the tumult of battle? If she did not, then Jagatsingh is as much a stone as thou art thyself.