N. Francis Xavier
Part XIV, (Continued from last week)
Col. Thomas CadellVC, sat on the bed and pulled on his boots. A turbaned orderly helped him.
He was getting ready to visit some new places in his domain. He wanted to go to places which have not been visited by a Chief Commissioner till then so that he could include them in his monthly report. His predecessor, Lt. Gen. Barwell hardly stirred from the Government House. Cadell wanted to show that he was different. He had already visited many distant outposts, where convict settlements had come up.
Wherever he went the convict settlers and ticket-of-leave men came up to Col. Cadell and presented many petitions, and aired their grievances. Many spoke of the threat from the Jarawas.
“Some petition-writer is very active here”, Cadell thought.
That day he planned to go to Mt. Harriet, and then onwards to Kala Pathar, or the ‘Black Rock’. He heard that most of the officers wanted to carve their names on the rock. It became a kind of ritual. He too wanted to etch him name, for eternity.
Cadell’s horse had already been sent to Hope Town, on the other side of the bay.
Capt. Birch, the unofficial Aide de Camp came in unannounced. It was irritating how Birch barged in when he was not wanted. Cadell did not like his unsolicited comments. The servants didn’t like him either. Cadell came to know about the spat between Birch and another officer four years earlier, during Gen. Barwell’s time.
“Sir, I ordered an armed guard to follow you,” Birch announced.
“Capt. Birch, I told you that I don’t like much pomp and show. I want to meet the people and know about their problems. That would not be possible if there are too many officers and soldiers around,” Cadell shot back.
“Sir, we can’t take chances. You know what happened in 1872”.
Birch was obviously referring to the murder of Lord Mayo at Hope Town jetty during his visit to the Islands.
That further irritated Cadell.
“I know how to take care of myself Capt. Birch. You may see that I have packed one of the new revolvers, and I carry my sword always. Perhaps you know that I took part in the Siege of Delhi during the Great Uprising?”, Cadell said, while lifting his coat a bit to show the shiny holster with the revolver.
That silenced Birch.
“Well, any more news about Hemraj? What are my appointments for tomorrow”, Cadell asked.
“Sir, nothing was heard after the message we received from the Charlotte. But we’re expecting a ship from Rangoon tomorrow. We may get some mail in her”, Birch said. “And, sir, we have a hanging to be carried out tomorrow, that of Kangal @ Janki for the murder of Nihal”.
Cadell remembered the case. He had been asked to submit a report on the increasing number of attacks on warders. He had already prepared a draft reply. As the convicts did not appear to be afraid of being hanged he suggested that they be publicly flogged and then hanged. He hoped that it would act as a deterrent.
“OK then, you go to Viper, and make the necessary arrangements for the hanging. I’ll take Lt. Deane with me”, Cadell said, dismissing Birch.
He went down the steps to the porch where a liveried convict servant held the reins of a saddled pony. After he mounted it the servant led it by the reins to the jetty where his cutter was waiting, with its twelve Sikh oarsmen at the ready.
“Chalo”, Cadell said, as he took his seat in the stern. “Let’s go to Mt. Harriet.”
The oars dipped and rose as the men pulled away.
Cadell had known Harriet Tytler. They too were in Delhi during the Mutiny. RC Tytler was much older than him, but Harriet, his second wife, was quite young. They never thought they would one day be sent to rule over the same mutineers in a distant island penal colony.
After the fall of Delhi it was rumoured that the Tytlers came across huge wealth hidden in the walls of the abandoned houses and the palace of Bahadur Shah Zafar, the last Mughal Emperor of India.
One of the items Col. Tytler grabbed from the old monarch was a crown. He took it to London and presented it to the Queen, expecting a huge reward. All that he got was the job of the Superintendent of Andamans.
The tenure of Col. Tytler in Andamans was known for its misgovernment and apathy towards the natives. When James Pratt, a sailor tried to rape an Andamanese woman and was killed by her husband at North Bay, Tytler ordered the village to be attacked and burnt down without investigating the matter. He was severely reprimanded for his actions by the Government and sent back.
Tytler’s only contribution was clearing the hill and naming it after his wife Harriet.
But Harriet was more accomplished than her husband. She had learnt the new art of photography from some famous photographers of the time, and produced some good collections relating to the Great Uprising of 1857.
His thoughts were interrupted when the boat gently bumped against Hope Town jetty. Lt. Deane, the District Superintendent of Police was already there with a saddled horse. The party started off immediately. Some more men accompanied them on foot and ponies.
Giant trees rose on either side of the narrow trail as it snaked through the tropical forest forming a thick canopy overhead. Huge lianas hung down from their branches like pythons. A few rays of sunlight filtered through the dense foliage. There was a chill in the air although it was midday. Everything was eerily silent except for an occasional shrill call of a parrot or the drumming of a woodpecker.
The trail seemed endless as it dipped and rose and again dipped into the evergreen forest.
In the bungalow on the top liveried servants served drinks and refreshments to the party. The horse and the ponies were left there and the party started out on foot in search of Kala Pathar.
After a considerable trek, suddenly, right in front of them they saw a huge black rock, worn smooth by the weather, with many names cut into its surface.
The first name Cadell saw was that of Hemraj, in Urdu, below the name of MV Portman and many others. Anger welled up inside Cadell. He took out his revolver and fired a shot at the despicable name. The bullet chipped off a bit of stone and ricocheted into the forest.
“Break off that part of the stone”, Cadell shouted to the men.
A man inserted a crow bar into the crack that ran along the surface. After a few attempts the stone gave way and crashed into the deep chasm below.
“Find a stone without any names where my initials could be carved”, Cadell told Lt. Deane. “I don’t want my name in the midst of all these ruffians”.
The sun started setting. The party decided they would retire to the bungalow for the night and complete the task the next day. ( To be continued….)
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