The morning after Bidhi Chand had departed from Lahore the darogha Sondha Khan, finding one of the Emperor’s favourite horses missing and all the sentries and grooms asleep, was not in an enviable frame of mind. The grooms and guards, when roused up, maintained that they had been watchful during the night, and said the horse must have sunk into the earth or soared to the celestial regions. The Emperor Shah Jahan bemoaned his irreparable loss— ‘Who hath taken my most favourite steed and thus hastened his own destruction ? Can there be any one in the whole earth who hath not the fear of me in his heart? When the kings of other lands cannot keep a particle belonging to me in their possession, [ p. 171 ] who hath two heads that he can afford to sacrifice one of them for stealing my horse ? If my enemy were to hide himself in the retirement of the mountains or in desert fastnesses, my army would not desist till it had found him. Whoever hath taken my steed is now my greatest enemy. I will assuredly put him to death whoever and wherever he may be.’ The Emperor sent trackers with an escort in every direction to endeavour to trace the missing animal, but no clue could be obtained.
The Sikhs who had brought the horses from Kabul, on receiving charge of Dil Baghin Bhai Rupa, observed that he did not eat his corn with a will, that tears were flowing from his eyes, and that his heart was sad. It wasnot known how he had become so weak. He was well groomed and treated with the utmost care. Rai Jodh thought that the horse had become weak as it was the first time he had been ridden any distance. He had previously been unaccustomed to travel and exertion. The Sikhs, however, came to the conclusion that the water which flowed from the horse’s eyes was simply the pain of his heart projected on his body, and must be caused by separation from his hitherto inseparable stable companion. Bidhi Chand was easily able to confirm this opinion. ‘This Dil Bagh of ours and Gul Bagh were tethered together. They used to eat corn, grass, and mashes of different sorts side by side, so that affection sprang up between them. Manifestly it is on account of his separation from his brother that tears are flowing from his eyes.’ This speech convinced everybody.
Bidhi Chand therefore decided on bringing Dil Bagh’s brother to him from the Lahore fort, so that the horse might no longer suffer from the pangs of separation. He said to himself, ‘ Although hundreds of thousands of brave men with arms in their hands were on the alert, I could so deceive them, that I would take the horse away before their very eyes.’
[ p. 172 ]
After Bidhi Chand had set out for Lahore, Rai Jodh pressed the Guru to leave Bhai Rupa and go to his village of Kangar about four miles distant. Sadhu and Rup Chand, owners of the village of Bhai Rupa, desired to accompany the Guru, but he advised them to remain in their own village, and they should always have his company in the spirit. His bodily company would not he said be safe for them, for he was bent on perilous enterprises. He should have to encounter the Muhammadans in the blood-stained field of danger, when steel would resound on steel and brave men die amid the clash of arms. Meantime his beloved friends Sadhu and Rup Chand would lead the lives of saints, and practise the virtues of charity and benevolence in their native village. Sadhu and Rup Chand accepted the Guru’s decision, and made him their parting obeisance. Rup Chand’s wife also came and embraced the Guru’s feet. On the Guru’s arrival at Kangar he was similarly greeted by another lady, Rai Jodh’s wife, who made him large offerings. Such were the Guru’s gracious manners that he completely won Rai Jodh’s heart, and Rai Jodh daily showed him some new mark of affection.
When Bidhi Chand arrived at the gate of Lahore he heard the town-crier publishing the theft of Dil Bagh, and offering to give the finder any reward he pleased. Bidhi Chand inquired what all this meant, and was duly informed by the Sikhs who were entertaining him of what had occurred. After considering his position, and the danger to himself in the event of failure, he carefully formed his plans. He went to a cloth-merchant and asked him to make him a fine Hindustani costume. He ordered three coats of different lengths, a paejama or trousers with a beautiful waistband, a turban several yards long with embroidered ends, and a pair of ornamental shoes low at the heels but with long toes pointed upwards. The cloth-merchant had everything ready by four o’clock in the after [ p. 173 ] noon, and his wife then served up dinner. Bidhi Chand expressed his satisfaction—’ When one Sikh serveth another, the Guru valueth that more than service to himself, as he hath said, ‘‘ Knowing him to be my Sikh he hath honoured him.” On hearing of such love the Guru will be pleased.’
Bidhi Chand then asked his friendtogetamagician’s chain made for him by a clever smith before next morning, and not mention the circumstance to any one. On the morrow he put on his new dress and with coco-nut oil greased his long hair until it shone. He parted his beard in the centre, so that his chin could be seen. He also twisted up his moustaches. He then put on his three coats, one reaching below the knees, the second a shorter one over it, and the third a jacket over all. He tied on his turban in the shape of a shield, and buttoned his trousers at the ankles. He fastened its waistband so as to show the embroidered ends, and finally put on his long pointed shoes so that he looked a real Hindustani. He had just dressed when the magician’s chain he had ordered arrived. Holding it in his hand in front of him, he walked slowly into the streets and market-places and appeared an innocent and respectable man. At the same time people were astonished on seeing his strange costume, and thronged around him. Several questions were asked, ‘To what country does he belong ?’ ‘ What is his name?’ ‘Where doth he reside?’ Bidhi replied, ‘My country is far away. I am a professional man and know something of occult science.’ So saying he strutted proudly along, followed by a crowd to the gate of the fort.
Bidhi Chand sat down on a raised platform and in reply to further inquiries said, ‘ 1 am an experienced tracker and astrologer, and can trace anything that hath been lost.’ The crowd asked other questions which he answered oracularly, while at the same time he amused his audience. He procured a mirror into [ p. 174 ] which he frequently looked, and then adjusted his beard and moustaches ; and he would now and again handle and shake his chain ostentatiously before the multitude. It happened that a servant of the stablekeeper, who was passing that way, stopped to see what was going on and inquired who the stranger was. Bidhi Chand replied, ‘My name is Ganak.’[1] My ordinary residence is in a forest[2] in a distant country. I have come in quest of an opportunity to show my skill.’
The stable-keeper’s servant then began to tell him of the loss of the Emperor’s horse, and said that, if he thought he could give any clue to the recovery of the animal, he would introduce him to the Emperor who would generously reward him. Bidhi Chand then boasted of his skill. By merely smelling the ground, he said, he could tell the secrets of the upper and nether regions, to say nothing of this contemptible planet. He could tell the Emperor in what direction the horse had been taken and where he was at that moment. He could not recover the horse, he admitted, for that was beyond his power, but the Emperor himself with his army could accomplish an enterprise of that nature. The Emperor heard of the self-constituted tracker and sent the stable-keeper to summon him. The stable-keeper went, and failing to recognize Bidhi Chand in his altered costume, took him inside the fort. He was duly presented to the Emperor, and stood up in court with the utmost confidence. In reply to the Emperor’s questions he said, “I dwell ina forest. Men call me “ Tracker Ganak.”’ My skill I obtained from an ancient and venerable seer. I can interpret omens, discover tracks, and read the stars and planets. J am a wanderer because certain persons bear me great enmity. They are many while I am but one. I have come hither to obtain justice, and I will give thee information regarding [ p. 175 ] the horse thou hast lost.’ The Emperor then conferred on him a costly robe, gave him a large sum to defray the expenses attendant on his residence at the capital, and promised him lakhs of rupees if he pointed out where the stolen horse was concealed.
Upon this Bidhi Chand, holding his magician’s chain, put his hand on the ground and raised it three times to his forehead. He then ostentatiously bowed to his supposed patron saint and preceptor. He began to count by the aid of his thumb the joints of his fingers, so that all might think he was interpreting omens. He then said to the Emperor, ‘ I know where the horse is, but I want to have one look at the place whence he was stolen, and then I will give thee all information. I will tell thee the thief’s name and how he effected the theft. It is then for thyself to consider whether thou canst recover the animal peaceably or go to war for him.’ The Emperor promised Bidhi Chand a high office at court; he should have all his enemies in his power, and he should receive four lakhs of rupees on giving information which would lead to the recovery of the horse.
Bidhi Chand requested the Emperor to reduce his promise to writing, and said, ‘ Let all the people in court pray with clasped hands that the two horses meet again. The prayers of many produce an effect, because the Lord is in the midst of a multitude. I shall obtain the desire of my heart if you will all heartily pray to God for my success.’ On this the courtiers clasped their hands and prayed that the stolen horse might again meet its mate. After this the Emperor reduced his promise to writing. Bidhi Chand then said, ‘ Let us now go to the place whence the horse was stolen. I will cast my chain and consider numbers, stars, and omens. I swear by my preceptor that I will tell thee truly where the horse is and the name of the thief. We diviners tell not lies, especially in the Emperor’s court.’ Upon this the Emperor, stable-keeper, Bidhi Chand, and [ p. 176 ] a few others went to the stables. Some tried to dissuade the Emperor from trusting the stranger, but the advice was disregarded.
When the Emperor, in reply to Bidhi Chand, said that the horse which had been stolen had his saddle on, Bidhi said that, if it had been otherwise, he could by the calculations he had already made discover the tracks. If, however, the remaining horse were saddled and bridled, he would consider what could be done without the delay which would be necessary to recast his numbers. His suggestion was adopted. Upon this he said he would ply his skill energetically and not go to sleep that night. He hoped, by observing the motions of the stars, to discover before morning the tracks desired. He would then be ready to receive the stipulated reward. The Emperor pressed him not to wait till morning but impart his secret at once, in which case he should receive a further reward of a lakh and a quarter of rupees. Bidhi Chand said that he could only succeed in divining the tracks in solitude and tranquillity at the particular hour when the horse had been stolen, so he requested the Emperor to cause all the inhabitants to close their doors and go to sleep at that time. He also made it a condition that all the gates of the fort should be shut, so that there might be no noise made by the ingress or egress of its occupants. The Emperor was deceived into issuing orders according to Bidhi Chand’s wishes. When the fort gates were closed on one side, Bidhi Chand contrived to cause them to be opened on the other side, in order to effectually secure himself from pursuit.
When everybody else had retired to rest, Bidhi Chand undid the ropes that bound the horse. He put his head on the ground and prayed for his success. It is said that the Emperor heard a noise as if a horse had got loose, but Bidhi Chand allayed his apprehensions, and said that he had discovered where the horse was, and would surely fulfil his promise [ p. 177 ] to tell the name of the thief. Bidhi Chand appears to have also found means of locking from the outside the door of the passage which led from the Emperor’s apartments. He then said aloud, ‘ Hear everything, consider not the thief a person to be forgotten. Thy father, by the power of his army, formerly took possession of an excellent horse intended for the holy and worshipful Guru Har Gobind, whose fame is like that of the sun, and thou hast now in imitation of thy unjust father seized these noble steeds specially intended by pious Sikhs for their beloved Guru. I have made reprisal and taken the first horse by my ingenuity. My name is Bidhi Chand; I am the Guru’s servant. It was I who took home Dil Bagh, the horse thou art in search of. On account of separation from his mate he wept copiously on his arrival, and we could only induce him to eat and drink with difficulty. Wherefore, in the guise of a tracker and with a love for dumb animals, I have come to take his companion to join him. I am the thief, the true King is my master. Thou hast now given me Gul Bagh ready saddled. I have thoroughly gauged the wisdom of thy court. I will tell where the horse is, and in so doing remove all blame from myself. The Guru hath pitched his tent in the new village of Bhai Rupa. Know that Dil Bagh is standing there. Gul Bagh shall now go to join him.’
The Emperor on hearing this called to the darogha to stop the thief, but the darogha was also a prisoner and helpless. The Emperor again called out for help, but no help was forthcoming. The guards were all locked in. Bidhi Chand again addressed the Emperor, ‘Why art thou angry ? I have taken the horse, as was fit and proper. Remember the promise thou hast made me. I have not received my former wages as groom and grass-cutter, nor the present of a thousand rupees which thou madest me. Thou hast promised me four lakhs of rupees for tracking. [ p. 178 ] That thou hast not paid me. Again, thou didst promise a lakh and a quarter of rupees for immediate information. I have not yet received a kauri from thee. I have, therefore, virtually purchased the horses which with their saddles may be set against my account. Send me the balance and free thyself from the debt ; otherwise there shall remain an account between us which can only be adjusted in God’s court. If thou desire to stop me and determine not to pay me, then I shall go with the conviction that thou art a deceitful monarch. I have the keys of the fort here with me, and will throw them into the deep river. Make haste. Thou wilt have to find them before thou catchest me.’ Saying this, Bidhi Chand again prayed for the success of his enterprise, and finally addressedthe Emperor—‘ Whatever efforts are to be made, make now, so that thou mayest not be sorry after my departure. Say not that thou hast not had full information.’ Upon this he took the bunch of keys and calling out, ‘Going, going, gone, threw them into the deep water, and left the Emperor to search for them and his precious steeds.
He then applied his whip to the horse. The animal pulled himself together, leaped over the battlement, and dropped into the deep water of the Ravi. Bidhi Chand then rode off with him as he had done his companion Dil Bagh, gaily singing as he went along. Both horses were entrusted to the Sikhs who had brought them from Kabul.
The Sikh chronicler, who is partial to detail, states that when the two horses met they neighed each other welcome, rubbed noses and offered mutual salutations like two brothers who had met after long separation. The Kabuli Sikhs made them a present to the Guru. He changed Dil Bagh’s name into Jan Bhai, which means that the horse was as dear as life, and Gul Bagh’s name into Suhela, which means dear companion.