A Cobra in the Plantation

By Alford Khan

It is about a young Indian nobleman thrown into exile, Nobile Hispahani found himself on a sugar plantation. A world dominated by Europeans. Through unimaginable circumstances he found himself propelled through the ranks to become the administrator.

Some of his friends thought it was possible because he married the daughter of one of the shareholders. others who knew him well knew that it was his grit and determination to succeed and above all never to be subservient to any man. All the workers on the plantation were from India. His main task was to elevate them from the stygian conditions given to them. This was a thankless task. The extra money they earned was spent on buying offerings for the many gods they worshipped. This made him question the existence of God and a relentless debate ensued. In the end. The debate drew no conclusion. His life on the plantation was filled with strikes and rioting from the disenchanted worker.

Nobile always was the winner. This story ends with him undecided if he should return to India for a holiday or not.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Oct 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9781728375229

Book preview

Introduction

It was a new experience for me when I was sent to spend the summer holidays with my maternal grandparents. They lived in a village on the outskirts of a sugar plantation. They were extremely happy to see me. But not half as happy as I was to see them.

This new experience made me realise the enormous different lifestyles of people in the countryside and those living in the towns.

Escaping from the confines of life in the town and finding freedom to roam the back waters and finding new friends who spoke an alien English was an inspiring experience. Nevertheless. Their camaraderie was overwhelming. This made me ignore their lack of grammar. And a mutual bond was born.

I was fascinated by their exaggerated stories of encounters with jaguars and snakes so large they can easily swallow a young boy. It was not long before I got tired of it and became interested in the stories their parents told me of life long ago.

Many years later. Their stories began teasing my memory. It was impossible to verify everything they said as the people involved in this tale are all gone. We all know stories of long ago can be exaggerated.

I thought if I could blend some of the fictious bits with the important parts. I may be able to write an interesting tale. It should be noted that some ideas portrayed in this book was based on knowledge at the time

It took me several years delving through plantation archives before I realised it was not all fiction.

And a great part of the horrors of life in the plantations turned out to be true. I felt it needed to be told.

My final decision came when my grandmother told me of the hardships her father suffered trying to feed a family of eight. And to pay for his eldest son’s training to be a veterinary surgeon.

As my research got deeper. I began to realise that there were indeed unbearable human sufferings. I wanted to write about it. And at the same time. I had to be careful not to dilute or exaggerate any of my findings in my research.

The story you are about to read reveal the truth of human sufferings and the efforts of one man and his loyal friends to bring about a change for the better. The challenges are as recorded in personal memoirs.

Names of the plantations have been changed to protect their descendants still alive and working there

In today’s present atmosphere of racial tension and discriminations. I found it difficult to believe the non-existence of racial tension between the Indian Administrator and his European staff. Was it because he was of noble birth and had the support of Matthew Longhorn? The indomitable legendary iconic retired English Commissioner of the hinterlands? Or the compromising and kind nature of the wealthy Scot plantation owner. Sir Adrian. Others say it was because he married sir Adrian’s niece. I personally believed it was because he had the ability to control the semi-illiterate work force and enhance the profits of the plantation? His honesty and sense of fairness became legendary.

Today as I took note of human sufferings and racial discriminations. I realised it was there from time memorial. Unfortunately. These inhuman activities will remain with us forever. Mankind will never evolve to relinquish their bigotry. It was. Is. And forever be the norm. It is what gave some of us that sense of superiority. I still remember the words if my maternal grandfather You don’t have to born a noble man to behave nobly to others.

I hope you find this story revealing in all its human aspects.

Contents

Introduction

Acknowlegement

Chapter 1     The Long March

Chapter 2     A New Life

Chapter 3     A Double Wedding

Chapter 4     The New Generation

Chapter 5     An Explosion

Chapter 6     Cobra Is Not Happy

Chapter 7     A Planned Seduction

Chapter 8     An Accident

Chapter 9     Revenge

Chapter 10   A Frustrated Inspector

Chapter 11   Celebrations

Chapter 12   Boysie Moment Of Glory

Chapter 13   Changes

Chapter 14   An Armed Robbery

Chapter 15   A Cheerful Captain

Chapter 16   An Emergency Meeting

Chapter 17   The Orphans

Chapter 18   Bombs And Weddings

Chapter 19   The Investigation

Chapter 20   The Capture

Chapter 21   A Journey In The Bush

Chapter 22   The Letter

Chapter 23   Local Politics

Chapter 24   An Uneasy Truce

Chapter 25   The Debate

Chapter 26   The Debate Continues

Chapter 27   A War With The Miners

Chapter 28   The New Project

Chapter 29   News From Europe

Chapter 30   An Historic Visit

Chapter 31   The End Of Hostilities

Chapter 32   The Promise

Chapter 33   Uncertainties

Chapter 34   Disappointments

Chapter 35   The New Town

Chapter 36   A Mystery Solved

Chapter 37   The Cobra Is Happy

Chapter 38   Matthew’s Dilema

Acknowlegement

My grateful Thanks to my sister Rose-Marie for the photographs and

Reg Sandhu for his help with my problematic computer.

Alford Khan was born 10th July 1033. As the eldest of twelve children he acquiered a great sense of responsibility. Age 15 he strarted workng in his father’s dental business. He also learnt to make his own clothes and that of his siblings from the tailor next door.

Several years later he was recognised as a registrerd dentist. This gave him freedom to practice dentistry. However. It did not provide the lucrative lifestyle imagined. Frustrated he left for London.

He was disappointed to discover that Registered dentist can only practice in the colonies. Again disaaponred but not disheartened. He got a job as a civilian technician with the Royal Army Dental Corps in Aldershot. He was the only non white and suffered humilating racial abuses. It must be said in all fairness that some of the civilian staff were kind and friendly to him. This encouraged him until he felt it was time to move.

He went to London and started his own dental busines which prospered with the support of the Jewish and Indian dentists.

It was not long after he met a young lady from Finland and soon they were married. They had four children. The prosperity of the business enabled him and his family to live a luxurious life style.

In 1985. He realised the poverty his homeland suffered. Lack of medicine for the sick and the poor education made the situation worse. It was time for action. He ecoureged a few friends to help. A charity was created dedicated for this sole purpose and became known as the Guyana Berbice Association. That very year he was elected President. A position he held for six years.

Togerher with the sister chapters in North America and the Rotary Club of Greenford. Medicines, clothes books and other educational accessories began pouring in the country. The President of Guyana was so impressed, he awarded the charity The Medal of Service

With the leadership in other capable hands. He wrote two jungle adventure stories. UptheDemerara River and Demerara Adventures

Aftern 69 years in the dental business. Age 84 He retired

CHAPTER 1

THE LONG MARCH

Colonel Kershaw looked tired as he scanned the horizon for any movements in the valley below. All he could see was a lone goat herder marshalling his flock down to the valley where the vegetation had resurfaced after the snow had melted. He trained his field glass past the snow line in the hope of seeing a lone rider. His spirit sank momentarily.

He was one of the few soldiers who knew these mountains. Unfortunately, this part of the mountain range was new to him. this was what forced him to engage the services of two Gurkhas. This intrepid soldier was determined to capture Ahmed Mirza Hispahani known as The lion of Gilgit a man who plagued the British army for years.

The thought of hundreds of lives lost on both sides was causing great concern. The British wanted to secure the Subcontinent by gaining control of India’s border with Afghanistan. Gilgit stood right in between. This was vital to the army’s vision of total control of India. The generals were getting frustrated. And the army could ill afford the loss. It was out of this frustration that a reward of £2,000 was offered for the capture of this ‘brigand’.

Several days had passed since he received instructions of where to go. This was draining the patience of his men. The two Gurkhas he hired to take him there, felt they had done their work and departed. The colonel was happy with their departure he wanted this to be a purely British success. He was also a man of enormous patience. His men were getting restless. To worsen the situation. The ground had its own enemies, biting insects and scorpions. He endured the hardship and comforted his men with stories of his many successes. Capturing Ahmed Mirza Hispahani would be his greatest victory. £2,000 was a king’s ransom, enough to tempt the most loyal fighter of betraying their leader. Kershaw looked at the letter and the map again. He was convinced he was at the right place.

Meanwhile. In his tent. Hispahani was in serious discussions with Kadar who was the leader of a much smaller band of fighters. He was there to discuss a possible merger of the two forces. Negotiations came to a stalemate when Kadar insisted to be the overall leader. Hispahani was not at all pleased. He felt he should lead the united army. After all his army was many times larger. Kadar was insistent for the leadership. Eventually, He suggested that Hispahani comes to his tent for a final discussion.

Why do I have to come to your tent? Can we not decide here.? Hispahani asked.

A decision like this needs the approval of my men.

Hispahani felt it was a reasonable suggestion and agreed. He had no idea of Kadar’s treachery.

The sun was dancing on the horizon when one of colonel Kershaw’s men saw a lone rider with a white flag riding towards them. The colonel ordered his men to attention and told them to let the rider through and to take any weapons he may be carrying.

As he approached the soldiers. He took a letter from under his robe all wet with perspiration and handed it to Kershaw. Before the colonel could open it. The man mounted his horse and rode off. The letter instructed Kershaw to go with four men six miles east to Baligar where he would see a huge tent. He followed the instruction. But, before he reached the tent, he was intercepted by armed fighters who gave them robes to conceal their uniforms. They were taken to a smaller tent and told to wait. An hour later a bearded figure appeared and introduced himself. I am Kadar. I am the one who sent the letter to your general. I want you to remain here until I send for you. My men will provide food and drinks. He then left unceremoniously.

During the night, the soldiers heard horses riding in, they carefully looked through a small opening in the tent and saw a dozen riders entered Kadar’s tent. Half an hour later there was a great scuffle followed by a single shot, within minutes the commotion stopped. The colonel and his men were invited in the large tent and there on the ground were a dozen men all bound up. Kadar wiped the perspiration from his forehead and said to the colonel.

That tall one lying on his backside is Ahmed Mirza Hispahani. He is like a Nawab. His fighters call him the Lion of Gilgit. Look at him, my prisoner. He thought I would join forces with him to fight your army. He is your prisoner now colonel do what you like with him but get him out of my tent.

The prisoners were helped to their feet Hispahani looked at Kadar in the eyes and said to him. I should have known I should not trust you. A snake will always remain a snake.

The colonel was about to leave when Kadar said. I hope you have brought the reward. The colonel reluctantly handed it over. Then before departing he told Kadar. Hispahani told you that a snake will always be a snake and I would like to add. So are traitors. You have earned your thirty pieces of silver and I hope our paths never cross.

Dawn was breaking and the colonel wasted no time to start the long march back to the rest of his men and then the two days’ ride to his headquarters in Peshawar. Their journey was interrupted several times when the wily warlord’s men tried desperately to rescue him. At one stage Kershaw and his men were cornered and was nearly overwhelmed by the great number of Hispahani men. Kershaw had no alternative but to retaliate with his artillery. Hispahani watched in dismay as his men were mercilessly gunned down. He pleaded with Kershaw to stop the carnage while he signalled his men to retreat. He resigned himself to his capture and swore to wreak revenge on Kadar and his followers if ever he was free again.

At Peshawar he spent several months incarcerated while awaiting a special court to convene for his trial. Since his crimes carried the death penalty, he was given a defence counsel. Hispahani considered that a joke and at first refused to cooperate. He knew he would not be given a fair trial. Despite assurances from all concerned. In the end he agreed to meet his counsel.

Hispahani greeted Donovan cordially and asked. Why are you taking part in this charade?

I can assure you this is no charade. I am serious in defending you. You are facing serious charges and if found guilty you will be hanged. If I can prove mitigating circumstances, you may be spared the noose and sent to prison instead.

Hispahani asked. Mitigating? I do not understand that word.

It means you had a legitimate right for your actions Donovan explained.

I do have legitimate rights. Your army tried to steal the land of my ancestors. Is that not mitigation?

That is what I will try to prove.

Hispahani laughed and looked at Donovan as if seeing him for the first time. Then told him You do not have an honest face and I do not have an alternative but to trust you.

At his trial Donovan vehemently argued that the accused had the legitimate right to defend his homeland from invaders and to protect his people.

The prosecutor objected to the counsel’s line of defence. He asked, Are you saying the army is an invading force.?

From the defendant’s point of view. He curtly replied.

In the end the Counsellor failed to convince the court. They naturally ignored his argument, and Hispahani was found guilty and sentenced to be hanged.

His two young sons were devasted by the sentence. Although they expected him to be found guilty. They did not expect the death sentence. They swore to avenge their father’s injustice. Kershaw was afraid if the two young men were to return to their homeland it would be another struggle for the army. He ordered their detention until a solution is found.

When news reached the Viceroy in Shimla, there were concerns that an execution would create a martyr and the entire North Western territory would rise in revolt against the army. The Viceroy’s governance of India was not a smooth one and he thought this new dilemma will only add to his problems. He sent orders for Kershaw to bring his prisoners to Shimla immediately.

Several days passed before a tired Kershaw was received in the Viceroy’s office. He introduced himself and sat on a seat offered.

Now listen Kershaw The Viceroy began. I was thinking of commuting this death sentence to avoid a calamitous war with these fanatics. I was in touch with my superiors in London and they agreed we are not in the habit of creating martyrs. He is your captive. And I was wondering if there is anything you can suggest that will prevent further uprising. You seem to know these people and their fanatical thoughts about us better than most.

Pardon me for being bold. Sir, you cannot blame them for thinking the way they do. Technically we are the intruders and I think under these circumstances we must consider their rights while upholding our sovereign rights to be here.

Damn your sentiment! Your statement is tantamount to treason! An annoyed Viceroy shouted.

You did ask my opinion. I spoke as I saw fit. The anger in the Viceroy’s words forced to continue. My loyalty is, and always will be to the crown and my country and to hell everything else.

No need to get upset. We must keep our heads and think positively. The Viceroy said quietly hoping to calm Kershaw. As you know. I have been in consultation with my superiors in London and like everything else they wanted to remain blameless for any disaster that might surface on this affair. This man has strong supporters not only in Gilgit and Peshawar but nearly the whole darn country. It is only the lack of a coordinated leadership on their part. And our army’s presence that is preventing another uprising. I have been given the authority to do what I deem necessary to avoid another uprising. Now think, do you have any solution to offer.

We cannot keep him and his two sons in prison in India. As you say he has many followers who will try to free him. Even the prison guards cannot be trusted. Like you I was thinking along the same lines. There is a ship in Calcutta bound for British Guiana with two hundred indentured labourers. If we can get him and his two sons on that ship it will solve our dilemma. Kershaw suggested.

British Guiana? Remind me where that is. A bewildered Viceroy asked.

It is our only territory in South America and a whole world away from here. Kershaw knew he had the right answer and wondered whether the Viceroy would accept his suggestion.

Capital replied the Viceroy. You are a genius. I shall see you are rewarded for your brilliance. First. I must inform London of my decision.

You can reward me by making me a general, sir. Kershaw told him tongue in cheek.

The Viceroy then asked to see the prisoner. Hispahani entered the office and looked scornfully at the Viceroy and at the picture of Queen Victoria hanging on a wall behind and above the Viceroy.

He had a second glance at the picture and asked. Is that woman your boss?

That is no ordinary woman she is the Lady Sovereign Queen of England and the commonwealth and also Empress of India. The Viceroy was full of pride as he made the introduction to the prisoner. It is her merciful act that gave me the power to spare your life and to send you and your sons in exile to British Guiana. I will make this official when you sign the conditions of your exile.

Why are you punishing my sons. They played no part in my struggle with you.

They are your heirs. They may feel obliged to continue where we stopped you. We cannot take any chances. The Viceroy was firm in his reply.

With anger raging within, Hispahani replied. As far as I am concerned you are no more than a civil servant taking orders from a woman. I am a born leader of men and of noble birth. If I were equally armed, I would have kicked you and your subordinate, who called himself a Maharaja out of the subcontinent. I am not afraid to die. It is only for the survival of my sons that I accept your cursed offer.

This unexpected consent prompted the Viceroy to inform him of the conditions of his exile. I do not know which plantation you will be sent. This letter I am giving you is for the Administrator. You will be under his supervision for the rest of your lives. You said you are of noble birth then I need your word that you will not open this letter or give it to anyone except the administrator. If you should lose this letter, you and your sons will be treated as common labourers. He paused and looked at Hispahani and asked. Do I have your word?

Hispahani merely nodded.

Before you go you must take the oath of allegiance to her majesty. You are now a British citizen. This oath will entitle you to live with dignity when you get there. You could have been sent as a common indentured labourer. But as you said you are a leader of noble birth. It is well for you to remember we are not the heartless conquerors you seem to imagine. It is also well to note how kindly you are being treated.

I will do as you ask. But only for my son’s sake.

Perhaps it was the air of authority both men exuded that demanded respect for each other. Hispahani had a kinder look on his face. In his heart he recognised he is being treated far beyond his expectations. Also, he recognised the loyalty in these men to their queen and country. He then turned and looked at Kershaw and as both men eyes met, each looking for a sign of weakness. Hispahani broke the silence and told him. It was your trickery that captured me, not your military might. He paused trying to contain the anger before continuing. YES! Treachery, bribery, and corruption, that is your passport to conquest. I have no ill feelings towards you. You are a mere soldier obeying your orders. I am a noble leader whose orders are to be implemented without hesitation. If you were under my command. I would have made you a general."

Finally, both men eyes met again. And with a slight bow of the head acknowledge respect for each other.

A dark cloud fell over the warrior. The thought of leaving his homeland to live in exile in a world he knows nothing about saddened his heart. The thought of leaving his wife and his only brother Sultan made him sadder.

They were transported thousands of miles from Shimla to Calcutta a journey that took several days. This journey also had its own risks. The escorts were told to avoid all towns and large villages since they were unsure where his sympathisers were.

When Hispahani and his sons arrived in Calcutta. An angry mob tried to rescue them. Their escorts were not prepared to let the violence of an angry mob intimidate them. Immediately they fixed their bayonets and stood their ground. It was the mob that became intimidated. they started shouting abuse at the escorts and made several abortive attempts to free the prisoners. Finally, Ahmed Hispahani stepped forward and spoke. Yes, I am a prisoner as you can see. He raised his handcuffed hands above his head and shook it defiantly before continuing. The British is sending me to the other side of the world in the hope that I will not return. I promise you I shall return and free the land of my fathers from these tyrannical occupants. I plead with you not to sacrifice your life for me. Return to your family. A battle is lost but our struggle will continue.

Hispahani and his two sons were eventually escorted on board for a long journey into the unknown.

https://military-history.fandom.com/wiki/Fort_Nassau_(Guyana)

Fort Nassau in the Berbice river. Built by the Dutch as defence from invaders. In the days of the Dutch. It was the headquarters of the Captain General. The ruler of the province.

CHAPTER 2

A NEW LIFE

On the 5th of February 1900 Hispahani and his two sons were put on board the ship SS Dolphin with two hundred indentured labourers bound for British Guiana. Most of these passengers were impoverished illiterate villagers looking for a better way of life.

The captain was told of the possible threat of mutiny by Hispahani and its consequences if ever such a mutiny succeeded. To avoid this the captain had Hispahani and his two sons berthed on the upper deck with the rest of the crew. It was a long and tempestuous voyage. The passengers in the lower deck had very little comforts. This did not help them to overcome the misery of their environment. Many died from severe sea sickness. Malnutrition and diarrhoea.

The captain found Mirza Hispahani a charismatic and handsome man. He could not believe he was evil. He soon befriended him. He even invited him to dinner on occasions and tried to glean from him why he was sent in exile.

Eventually the ship docked at the capital Georgetown and the labourers were loaded into trucks and taken seventy miles east of the city to Berbice and from there to various plantations along the coast. Mirza Hispahani and his sons were taken to Godsend Hall one of the larger plantations producing two thousand tons of sugar annually.

They arrived late that evening and were escorted into a terraced building along a canal. These terraces were divided into two-roomed compartments. Mirza Hispahani and his sons sat all night on the mud floor in their hovel praying for the sunrise. When dawn eventually broke. They saw the horror of their accommodation.

Stepping outside, Hispahani saw the green rich vegetation nourished by the Guiana soil. A fortune’s worth of sugar cane spread out wide and flat in every direction with centuries old silk-cotton trees standing like half asleep sentinels along the mud road. Suddenly his attention was drawn to the murmuration of starlings. As they disappeared in the horizon. Thousands of parrots took over trying to emulate the antics of their feathered cousins. Hispahani and his sons were mesmerised by this aerial display. They waited until the last bird disappeared. Leaving the sky empty except for the morning sun in the horizon. The warrior took in the scene with mixed feelings before turning his attention to what was happening around him.

On the bank of the canal hundreds of workers were gathered around a huge fire with an equally huge pot of soup bubbling away. This was what the new arrivals had for breakfast served in tin cups. Hispahani watched in dismay as his countrymen were herded and treated like cattle. This was not the better life they were promised. The new arrivals took their soup before joining the others who were waiting for the gang leader. Before they had finished their breakfast, a burly man six feet tall with a huge paunch arrived with a cane in his hand and stood next to Hispahani. He shouted to the newcomers. My name is Um Bulla. I am the leading gang master. I received my instructions from the Superintendent. And you must obey them. Anyone disobeying those orders will feel the sting of my cane.

He started poking the new arrivals to join the line of workers. He was about to poke Hispahani elder son in his ribs. The father snatched the cane, fell him to the ground and placed his heel on the man’s neck. A bewildered Um Bulla looked up as Hispahani spoke. Now you listen to me bully boy! You do not ever poke me or my sons. We are not your labourers. Now tell me who is the Administrator of this chaotic plantation. I need to speak to him.

A European superintendent arrived on his horse and asked scornfully. Why do you want to speak to the administrator?

I have a letter from the Viceroy of India for him. Will you take me to him?

No! I am the deputy administrator. You may give me the letter and I will see he gets it. The superintendent replied.

I cannot give you the letter. I was ordered to give it personally to your boss.

I have my own work to do. And you are holding back my gang leader. Kindly remove your boot from his neck and when he has finished his task. He will take you there.

Hispahani was noting the chaotic scenes around him and realised its simple cause. The labourers were from different parts of India and spoke their own languages. Very few understood what the others were saying. Um Bulla was made task master because of his limited knowledge of most of the Indian languages. This knowledge did not help as much as he would like. Frustration and impatience forced him to resort to the oldest form of control. Brute force. This provoked a hostile attitude towards him.

An hour later Mirza Hispahani and his sons followed the man to the Administrator’s office. It was a mocked Tudor building in the factory’s compound. As they entered it, the guard stopped them and told them they cannot go in as he did not receive any instructions for a visit. An argument arose and the administrator came out to see what was happening.

Hispahani asked. Are you the administrator? If so, I have a letter from the Viceroy of India for you.

A letter? From the Viceroy? For me? Who are you? The Administrator asked. His strong Gaelic accent sounded like a new language to the visitor.

In those brief moments Mirza Hispahani soon recognised him as a man he can trust. He introduced himself and his two sons Hamdan and Nobile. They were invited in the office and the Administrator began reading the letter and nodding his head intermittingly. Then he asked. Do you know the contents of this letter?

I do not. As you can see it is sealed and I gave my word to the Viceroy that it will be so until it reaches its destination.

You have met the Viceroy? Well, broadly speaking you are all exiles. And I am to make you comfortable and keep you out of mischief. For me to do that I will need your cooperation. Since you are not labourers and no mention of any work. I guess we will have to sort something out together. I do not intend to make you comfortable without getting something in return. This plantation is not owned by the government. I do not fully understand why you should become my responsibility. However. They promised a small fee for your meals and accommodation. The administrator was firm in his remarks.

Hispahani interrupted. Before you start having any ideas. I must tell you we are not prepared to live in that hole or be part of that chaos I saw before coming here. I am not a farmer. I am a leader of men. Your army in India is afraid of me that is why I am here. I would advise you we have an accepted agreement for both our sakes. I should not be telling this, but I am an extremely wealthy man capable of looking after myself and my two sons. It would suit us to have decent jobs only to keep boredom away.

You, told me you are extremely rich. I see no record in the letter where it shows that to be true.

I am not a fool to carry useless paper money around, especially since I did not know where they will be sending me. At this point Mirza Hispahani undid his turban and revealed dozens of precious stones. There were at least a dozen large diamonds and several sapphires and emeralds enough to decorate a king’s crown. Ian Ogilvie was speechless and quietly told him to put it away.

The two men were looking at each other and for the second time Mirza Hispahani found himself looking for a sign of weakness. Eventually the administrator said. I hope you are not planning to run my plantation.

Absolutely not! But I can help getting your workers organised far better than the chaos I saw. I stood for an hour watching your superintendent and his bully boy using brute force on the labourers. Those miserable workers will not cooperate with your head gang leader. Hispahani told him,

Why did you say that? enquired the administrator.

Because of his brutish tactics to get some work done. I recognise your importance here and I am not foolhardy to take that away from you. Remember, I was a leader of five thousand men. And I would not like someone to undermine my authority. I could be a beneficial advisor and help towards a more organised and coordinated work force that can benefit this industry and your workers. I seek no salary. Just a decent home. The war lord replied.

A decent home I can give you straight away. Your other suggestions will have to wait. There is a bungalow not far from where you were this morning. My field superintendents used it as a rest house to get away from the heat. It is hardly used now. Um Bulla will take you there. It has four rooms and a resident caretaker. I was told she is one of the best here.

A woman living in the same house as us. Unacceptable.

She like all maids and caretakers on this plantation have their own rooms on the ground floor.

His reply helped Hispahani breathe a sigh of relief.

That very evening Ian Ogilvie wanting to know more of this enigmatic warrior did something unprecedented in the history of the plantation. He sent his butler to escort Hispahani to the mansion.

The visitor was welcomed and asked to sit. Make yourself comfortable Mr. Hispahani while I get your letter from the Viceroy.

Hispahani felt uneasy when the letter was mentioned. He was unaware of its contents. Ogilvie came and sat opposite him. He looked at the visitor for a few seconds as if trying to read what was on his mind before asking. Do you know the contents of this letter?

Hispahani reply was brief. No! I am ignorant of its contents.

Then I shall ask you a few personal questions, if only to get the record straight. It said you relentlessly fought our army for nearly one year. You were given the chance to surrender. And you refused. Why did you refuse? Ogilvie wanted to hear Hispahani side of the drama.

Would you surrender if you are winning the fight? Hispahani asked.

But you were captured. If, as you said you were winning. Why were you captured? Ogilvie was becoming intrigued with the answers he received.

I was betrayed by my enemy. A man I thought I can trust. Your generals realised they could not defeat me because I had the best ally on my side that was the reason I was winning. The British had superior weapons and better trained soldiers. But they were not superior enough for my ally.

What ally are we talking about Mr Hispahani?

The terrain! We knew every square inch of the mountains. You need to be an experienced mountaineer to navigate your way around. In the end when they discover they were losing the battle they resort to trickery. They offered a reward of two thousand pounds. I was thankful it was my enemy who betrayed me and not one of my loyal fighters.

Two thousand pounds? Ogilvie paused. He wondered why such a huge reward was offered. He then continued. This question may sound impertinent. But I must ask you. Did you enjoy killing our soldiers?

It was war! It is the same as the laws of the jungle. Kill or be killed. To answer your question directly. I did not enjoy slaying fighting men. Like Colonel Kershaw they were only men obeying orders. The politicians are the ones who knew the real reason they want to displace me. They are the ones who should be on the battle fields. The Generals knew if they were engaged in a prolonged war. It would have weakened their military might. Hence the reward. Hispahani said without showing any emotion.

Let us put aside military matters. The main reason I invited you here is to ask if you really can organise the labourers into a more productive work force. I am embarrassed to tell you this, but as you quite rightly said. The workers are disorganised. And because of that the plantation would close if we were to have another unprofitable season. Ogilvie was desperate enough to lay his cards on the table.

"I spotted the reason why your work force was so disorganised the very morning I arrived. I promise you that will change.

Would your two sons want to work? I have no idea what sort of job they can do. Perhaps you can enlighten me.

"My younger son will have to decide. He is more like me fearless and independent. My older son was his mother’s joy. A bit shy and reticent that was why I had him working with my bookkeepers.

Perhaps he will be happy working in your account’s office. My younger son will have to decide for himself."

How did your younger son prove his fearlessness? Ogilvie was curious of the temperament of the young man if he were to find him a suitable job.

It happened on day in Gilgit. He was only ten years old playing by a rice field when a cobra twelve feet long came out and the two confronted each other. He only had a stick in his hand and instead of whacking the reptile he toyed with. The fearless cobra became angry. It reared up several feet. Until it was taller than my son. It made several lunges at him and each time my son kept of reach. This went on for half an hour. I wanted to step in and kill the snake. But I thought he is clever enough to keep out of reach and it would be interesting to see the outcome of this duel. Eventually the snake became tired. It dropped it aggressive stance and headed back to the rice field. I shouted to him to kill the snake. He shook his head and told me the cobra is too noble to kill without reasonable cause. But it can bite and kill one of the planters. I said to him.

And what did he say? Ogilvie asked.

He, told me the snake and planters can avoid each other if respect is shown. It was a truthful and honourable thing to say. A few minutes later when the cobra was halfway across the field it reared its head and looked at my son. I became fearful that it will find and kill my boy. I sought advice from the Elders in the village and they assured me that it was a good omen. And my son will not come to any harm.

What an extraordinary story. If it is true. It is quite remarkable. Here the snakes do not have such noble qualities, many workers died from snake bites. I will let your son the one you call Nobile choose what work he wants to do. From what you told me he appeared to be a strong and independent minded young man Ogilvie told him. Then he remembered the fortune Hispahani hid in his turban. With concern for its safety. He told him. Mr. Hispahani, you are taking a great risk keeping those jewels in your turban. They are worth a fortune. Would you like me to keep it safe in our strong room?"

It is kind of you to be concern. It is not that I distrust you. I can assure you it is just as safe where it is as it would be in your strong room. Hispahani replied with confidence.

At a weekly conference with his senior staff, Ogilvie entered the room with his hand on Hispahani shoulder. It was a deliberate ploy to assure his staff. After introducing him he said. This gentleman is going assist me or any of my staff in an advisory capacity. You all know this plantation existed on subsidies for the last two crops. He has assured me that he can remedy that. You are free to ask him any question.

Why did you try to kill my gang leader? One of the men asked. Hispahani realised it was the same man he saw on the first morning of his arrival. Before he explained his action. He asked.

May I know your name?.

My name is Alan Whitby. I am the deputy administrator.

Mr. Whitby I did not try to kill him. Merely teaching him a lesson on human behaviour. I would like you to know that he is a dangerous man. I will have to get rid of him if I am to succeed.

What makes you think you can change the fortune of this plantation? It seems sheer arrogance for you to come and tell us how to do our jobs. I have noticed people of your kind always wanting to prove something. Whatever that is. Whitby replied with scorn.

Hispahani noted an air of hostility and racial remarks in Whitby’s reply. He looked at Ogilvie and smiled. It was to reassure the administrator that he is not offended by the remark. Then he told Whitby with a smile.

It may sound egotistic. But I understand people and their needs. I hope that answer your question.

Another staff member raised his hand to speak. He was of medium built and well suntanned. Which suggests he was here for a long time. He told him. "My name is Crawford. I am one of the field superintendents. I understand you are not accepting payment for what you would be doing. May I inquire your reason.

My reasons are personal. Mr Crawford.

Surely your reasons be it personal is a matter of great concern to all of us. Is there a hidden agenda to your generosity? Crawford asked.

Perhaps you are right. If this plantation is closed. All of you will be given alternative employment. The labourers will suffer immensely. Their lives would not be worth living. They have no other means to sustain themselves and that will be a tragedy not only for them but for the owners of all the plantations. So, you see Mr. Crawford. I am doing this solely for the benefit of the workers. There was a poignant note in his reply.

At this point Hispahani realise his precarious position. The entire staff were Europeans. His mind drifted back to the time he was incarcerated in his homeland and the racial abuses he endured at the hands of the British soldiers. The words of Alan Whitby echoing as a reminder. He felt the time has come when he should never be treated like that again. Not hatred. But grim and resolute determination forced him to summon his inner strength and slightly increased the volume of his voice before continuing. I will now say what must be said before I embark on a journey on an unknown road. I would like you to know that I am not here to build bridges across racial, social, or cultural boundaries. But to make my life and that of my sons a dignified and happy one. He paused as if to let his words penetrate his listeners. Before continuing. Never again will I allow my dignity to be compromised by insults or innuendos. Again. He paused. And slightly raising the tone of his voice. He continued. I WILL NOT BE SUBSERVIENT TO ANYONE. Nor do I expect it. The administrator reminded you of the financial losses you suffered. I know I can make this industry financially viable. You have the tools, the work force, and like all tools and work force if used skilfully and with care can be useful assets. I need not tell you how or why we were sent here. Your Administrator knows the facts. I would like you understand. I have the experience to recognise the varying qualities in human nature. I will use it to ensure the prosperity of this plantation."

It did not take long for the staff to realise that this was not one of the ordinary workers they will have to deal with. His tall military stature and the voice of a commander earned him respect. Respect that was needed if he were to succeed. This was their last chance of producing sugar for a profit. And they knew it. It seems the dark clouds of uncertainties that once hung over them had disappeared.

True to his word. Hispahani began the impossible task of getting the workers to understand their orders and to organise themselves into specialist groups. This was a great advantage for workers and management.

Um Bulla was relieved as head task master. This annoyed him intensely and he swore he will kill Hispahani at the first opportunity. Filled with anger he raged through the villages proclaiming his hatred of Hispahani. To make sure the villagers understood his intention. He gave a shameful display of his obstreperous behaviour.

Alan Whitby heard of his threats. He invited Um Bulla to a rest house. There they discussed the dislike they both harbour for the Warrior and a mutual bond began. Together they planned his down fall.

A few weeks later the harmonious operation on the plantation came to a sudden halt. With the help of Whitby. Um Bulla got the workers to congregated in the factory’s compound and