They answered rudely and the watchman retorted angrily.  The dacoits loudly abused the man.

The noise woke up the Commissioner, and he got out on deck with a loaded revolver in his hand.  The dacoits jumped from their dinghy and ran up the bank.  It was evident who they were and the Commissioner fired, aiming at their legs.  One man fell with a scream of pain but scrambled to his feet and ran on.

Nothing was to be gained by chasing them through the still dark jungle.  The Commissioner turned his attention to the boat.  “Search it” he ordered his watchmen.  His quick eyes detected legs protruding from a mat, and he was not surprised when his chaprassi called:  “Saheb, a dead man lies in it.”

The Deputy murmured feebly:  “I am not dead.  I live.”  The chaprassi amended the first statement:  “Saheb, he speaks.”  The Commissioner jumped into the dinghi, cut the ropes that bound the unfortunate man, and discovered the Deputy Magistrate.  It did not take him long to recover and pour his tale of woe into his Chief’s ears.

By sunrise they were all after the dacoits.  Blood-drops marked the way and, near by, they found the wounded man who, only able to hobble, had hidden himself in a thicket.  The Deputy Magistrate’s father-in-law was arrested.  He was one of the leaders of the band.  It did not take long to capture the others.  And after this, for a time, this part of the Dacca district enjoyed peace from dacoits.

All for Nothing

A young and very high-caste Bengali lady was married to the son of a rich man who lived near Hooghly, a small town within a short distance of Calcutta.

Some years passed, but there was no sign of a son and heir.  The parents-in-law were fond of the girl.  She had won her way into their hearts and they sympathised with her.  Yet they longed to see the old name being carried down the years, and whisperings grew into talk of a second marriage for their son.  The girl’s parents were anxious and distressed.

Then a kindly Providence intervened, and after months of expectation a little son lay in her arms, and both families rejoiced with the girl and shared her pride in the boy baby.

When the child was about a year old, the young mother’s brother became engaged to be married.  The date was fixed and invitations sent to the girl and to the family of her parents-in-law.  It was arranged that she and her baby should attend the wedding.

Not far off, also in Hooghly, lived a widowed sister (of the girl) in her father-in-law’s house.  She too was going to the wedding, and it was settled that both sisters should travel in the same boat to Calcutta.  No male member of either family could accompany them.  Therefore, their father sent an old servant from Calcutta to fetch them.  This man was trusted and treated like a member of the family, with whom he had been for years.