Annals and Antiquities of Rajasthan, or the Central and Western Rajput States of India v3.c43.t1.150

v3.c43.t1.150

Monuments to Warriors.—Dabhi is the line of demarcation between Mewar and Bundi, being itself in the latter State, in the district of Loecha,—dreary enough! It produces, however, rice and *makkai*, or Indian corn, and some good patches of wheat. We passed the cairns, composed of loose stones, of several Rajputs slain in defending their cattle against the Minas of the Kairar. I was particularly struck with that of a Charan bard, to whose memory they have set up a *paliya*, or tombstone,¹ on which is his effigy, his lance at rest, and shield extended, who most likely fell defending his *tanda*. This tract was grievously oppressed by the banditti who dwell amidst the ravines of the Banas, on the western declivity of the plateau. “Who durst,” said my guide, as we stopped at these tumuli, “have passed the Patar eighteen months ago? they (the Minas) would have killed you for the cakes you had about you; now you may carry gold. These green fields would have been shared, perhaps reaped altogether, by them; but now, though there is no superfluity, there is ‘play for the teeth,’ and we can put our turban under our heads at night without the fear of missing it in the morning. Atal Raj! may your sovereignty last for ever!” This is the universal language of men who have never known peaceful days, who have been nurtured amidst the elements of discord and rapine, and who, consequently, can appreciate the change, albeit they were not mere spectators. “ We must retaliate,” said a sturdy [660] Chauhan, one of Morji’s vassals, who, with five besides himself, insisted on conducting me to Bhainsror, and would only leave me when I would not let them go beyond the frontier. I was much amused with the reply of one of them whom I stopped with the *argumentum ad verecundiam*, as he began a long harangue about five buffaloes carried off by the Thakur of Nimri, and begged my aid for their recovery. I said it was too far back; and added, laughing, “ Come, Thakur, confess; did you never balance the account elsewhere?”— “ Oh, Maharaja, I have many, and taken many, but Ramdohai! if I have touched a blade of grass since your raj, I am no Rajput.” I found he was a Hara, and complimented him on his affinity with Alu, the lord of Bumbaoda, which tickled his vanity not a little. In vain I begged them to return, after escorting me so many miles. To all my solicitations the Chauhan replied, “ You have brought us comfort, and this is *man ki chakari*, ‘ service of the heart.’” I accepted it as such, and we “ whiled the gait ” with sketches of the times gone by. Each foot of the country was familiar to them. At one of the cairns, in the midst of the wood, they all paused for a second; it was raised over the brother of the Bhatti Thakur, and each, as he passed, added a stone to this monumental heap. I watched, to discern whether the same feeling was produced in them which the act created in me; but if it existed, it was not betrayed. They were too familiar with the reality to feel the romance of the scene; yet it was one altogether not ill-suited to the painter.