Burlesques William Makepeace Thackeray

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see me than, dismounting from his own horse, and giving the rein to a companion, he
advanced to meet me with the charger; a second fellow likewise dismounted and followed
the first; one held the bridle of the horse, while the other (with a multitude of salaams,
aleikums, and other genuflexions), held the jewelled stirrup, and kneeling, waited until I
should mount.
I took the hint at once: the Indian who had come up to the fort was a great man—that was
evident; I walked on with a majestic air, gathered up the velvet reins, and sprung into the
magnificent high-peaked saddle. "Buk, buk," said I. "It is good. In the name of the fortynine
Imaums, let us ride on." And the whole party set off at a brisk trot, I keeping silence,
and thinking with no little trepidation of what I was about to encounter.
As we rode along, I heard two of the men commenting upon my unusual silence (for I
suppose, I—that is the Indian—was a talkative officer). "The lips of the Bahawder are
closed," said one. "Where are those birds of Paradise, his long-tailed words? they are
imprisoned between the golden bars of his teeth!"
"Kush," said his companion, "be quiet! Bobbachy Bahawder has seen the dreadful
Feringhee, Gahagan Khan Gujputi, the elephant-lord, whose sword reaps the harvest of
death; there is but one champion who can wear the papooshes of the elephant-slayer—it is
Bobbachy Bahawder!"
"You speak truly, Puneeree Muckun, the Bahawder ruminates on the words of the
unbeliever: he is an ostrich, and hatches the eggs of his thoughts."
"Bekhusm! on my nose be it! May the young birds, his actions, be strong and swift in
flight."
"May they DIGEST IRON!" said Puneeree Muckun, who was evidently a wag in his way.
"O-ho!" thought I, as suddenly the light flashed upon me. "It was, then, the famous
Bobbachy Bahawder, whom I overcame just now! and he is the man destined to stand in
my slippers, is he?" and I was at that very moment standing in his own! Such are the
chances and changes that fall to the lot of the soldier!
I suppose everybody—everybody who has been in India, at least—has heard the name of
Bobbachy Bahawder: it is derived from the two Hindustanee words—bobbachy, general;
bahawder, artilleryman. He had entered into Holkar's service in the latter capacity, and had,
by his merit and his undaunted bravery in action, attained the dignity of the peacock's
feather, which is only granted to noblemen of the first class; he was married, moreover, to
one of Holkar's innumerable daughters: a match which, according to the Chronique
Scandaleuse, brought more of honor than of pleasure to the poor Bobbachy. Gallant as he