Chapter 4 Chapter 4 Deep in the Grottoes of Elora

Dangdu Pont, the prince of the Maharaja of India, was the adopted son of Baki Lo, the Maharaja of Pune, that is, Nana Saib—possibly the only surviving leader of the original Indian army riot at this time—leaved that Off the beaten track camp.Brave, daring, good at adapting to the situation to get rid of the pursuit and make people invisible, and extremely resourceful, Nana, who can always save the day, has always hated the British, and this hatred was caused by the British riots in 1857. Frenzied by his vengeance, he ventured to the Dekkan region. yes!Nana's hatred for the Indian occupiers is unforgettable.When Bucky Low was born in 1851, he was the heir to the Maharaja.But the East India Company refused to continue paying his annuity.This is the origin of the hatred, but what happened later made the hatred deeper and deeper, and it became irreparable.

But what about Wan Saib?Over the past eight years, the Indian soldier riots have been completely quelled.The British government is gradually replacing the East India Company, and bringing the entire peninsula under its own command with a more powerful regime than the Merchant Association.The insurrection has become a thing of the past, and even in the local army, it has been completely reorganized and there is no trace of it anymore.Does this Nana want to start a national movement among the lower classes of the Indian peninsula?His plans will soon be revealed.In any case, he would not be unaware that he had been accused at Aurangabad, that the Governor-General of India had informed the magistrate of Calcutta and that a reward was being offered for his capture.There is no doubt that he should have fled immediately, and had to hide in a very secluded place to escape the hunting of the British and Indian police.

On the night of March 6-7, time was very tight for Nana.Knowing the area well enough, he decided to go to Elora, twenty-five miles from Aurangabad, to meet one of his accomplices. The night was dark.After making sure they were not being followed, the disguised beggars headed towards the tomb of Shah Sufi, a Muslim saint built on the edge of the city, whose relics are said to be used for healing.The mausoleum was extremely quiet at the moment, and the imam and pilgrims were still asleep, so Nana didn't have to worry about someone who was troublesome interrogating him. Through the darkness of the night, he could still see the impregnable Davrydabad Fort, a huge granite structure, rising two hundred and forty feet high on the plain to the north.Looking at it, Nana remembered that one of her ancestors, the former king of Dekkan, wanted to build a big city around this castle as the capital.That is indeed an unassailable position, and it is likely to become the center of insurrection in this part of India.But Nana turned her head, her eyes were only filled with hatred for this castle that had been occupied by the enemy.

After crossing the plain, the terrain becomes uneven.The terrain near the mountains is always somewhat undulating.Nana, who was in her prime, never slowed down even when climbing a steep slope.He planned to cover twenty-five miles that night, the distance from Aurangabad to Elora.Only there can he rest in peace.Therefore, no matter how many courtyards or dilapidated bungalows for long-distance travel teams to rest on the road, he refused to stop and sleep for an hour or two, even though he had already walked into the deep mountains and dense forests. At sunrise, the monks and beggars had already passed the village of Rauza, where the extremely simple tomb of the great Mongolian emperor Aurang Zebu was located.At last he came to the famous cave area of ​​Elora, the name of a small nearby village.

More than 30 grottoes were excavated on a crescent-shaped hill.Four temples, twenty-four Buddhist temples and some relatively minor caves are the main buildings here.Basalt has been used extensively in Indian architecture.But in the first century of mankind, Indian architects quarried these stones not to build magnificent temples around the peninsula.no!People mined these stones just to carve open spaces in the mountains for temples. One of the most remarkable temples is the Kayras Temple.The temple is 120 feet high and 600 feet in circumference, with a majestic momentum.The builders built it in a courtyard, thus isolating it from the whole mountain.The courtyard is three hundred and sixty feet long and one hundred and eighty-six feet wide, and is made of basalt stone.Then, the architect carves it like a sculptor with a piece of ivory.Outside the temple, people dug rock pillars, built exquisite small obelisks and domes, and used the rocks on the edge to sculpture several elephants that were larger than the real ones, as if they supported the entire temple; inside the temple was a spacious hall , surrounded by small altars, and the entire roof is supported by several pillars.In short, this temple was transformed from a huge stone, not by any means the result of human construction, but it is unique in the world, comparable to any of the most wonderful buildings in India and in no way inferior to the architectural wonders of the underground tombs of ancient Egypt .

Today, the temple has been marked by time and is almost forgotten in the mountains.Several places have been damaged.The elephant sculptures have also become somewhat unrecognizable due to the weathering of the rock walls.Although the temple is only 1,000 years old, this age, which is insignificant to nature, only means old age to human architecture.On the left side of the base, several deep cracks have appeared, and the arm of an elephant has disappeared.It was through the crack that Nana Saib had slipped, and no one would know that he had come to Elora. The crack extended into a narrow and dark passage that ran through the entire base of the temple.A basement is naturally formed inside, or a storage pool, which is usually dry and can store rainwater in rainy days.

As soon as Nana walked into the underground passage, she whistled a peculiar whistle, and then heard the same whistle again.This is not an echo.A light suddenly appeared in the darkness. An Indian appeared before him with a small lantern in his hand. "Don't light the lamp!" said Nana. "Don du Pont, is that you?" asked the Indian, who quickly put out the lights. "Brother, it's me!" "yes?"…… "Eat first, then talk." Nana replied, "But I can't see anything. Take my hand and lead me away." The Indian took Nana by the hand, led him to a pile of hay deep in the basement, and helped him to lie down.Just now, he was sleeping here, and he went out to respond when he heard the monk's whistle.

The man was quite used to working in the dark, and soon he found some food, bread, a kind of pie made of chicken, which is a favorite of the Indians, and half a pint of arak made from coconut milk. Nana ate without saying a word.He is hungry and tired.At this moment, all life is concentrated in those eyes, as if the eyes of a pair of tigers are shining in the darkness. The Indian also waited silently for Nana to speak. This person is Balau Lo, the brother of Nana Saib. Barlow Low was Don du Pont's elder brother, but not a year older.Not only are the two very similar in appearance, they are almost indistinguishable, and in terms of thought, Balau is purely a second Nana Saib.The same hatred for the British, the same scheming, the same hard heart, it seems that the same soul is attached to both people.Throughout the riot, the two brothers were inseparable, fighting together from beginning to end.After the failed uprising, the two fled together to the same camp on the Nepal border to avoid the limelight.And now, the two are pulling together for a comeback, coming together for a fresh start.

Nana regained his vigorous physical strength after devouring his food and drink. He rested his head on his hands and still didn't say a word.Barlow Low thought he wanted to sleep for a few more hours, but remained silent. Suddenly, when Du Pont raised his head, grabbed his brother's hand, and said in a low voice: "I've been denounced in Bombay! The governor of Bombay is offering a reward of two thousand pounds for the capture of Nana Saib!" "Be du Ponte!" cried Barlow Low. "Your head is worth more than that! Mine is worth more than two thousand pounds! In three months they'll pay twenty thousand pounds." Bounty to catch us!"

"Yes," Nana replied, "three months later, June 23rd, will be the anniversary of the Battle of Plassey, and this year will be its centenary. The British rule should end, and we will Liberation is coming! Our soothsayers predicted it! The troubadours sang it! Brother, in three months, a full hundred and nine years will be history, and India is still occupied by the British invaders Step on it!" "When du Pont," replied Barlow Lowe, "what failed in 1857 should and can succeed ten years later. 1827, 1837, 1847 India has been at the height of the riots! Every ten years, the Indians are rioting! This year they will see the blood of the Europeans!"

"God bless us," whispered Nana, "blood for blood! Woe to those royal officers who have not been killed by the Indian rebels! Lawrence is dead, Barnard Hodder is dead, Napier Hobson and Havelock are dead too! But someone is still alive! Campbell and Oz are not dead, and of these guys I hate Colonel Moreau the first to stuff an Indian in Descendent of the gun-hole executioner, who slew with his own hand my companion, Queen Jansi! If he falls into my hands, he'll see if I remember Colonel Rael's ferocity, Skander Jaeger's Massacres, the atrocities of the British at Begom Palace, Bareilly, Jhansi, Moral, Idaspu and Derry! He will see if I forget that he cursed me to die, as I Cursed him!" "He's out of the army, hasn't he?" Barlow Low asked. "Yes!" replied Nana Saib, "as long as there is an uprising, he will go back to the army! But if the uprising fails, I will immediately run to his bungalow in Calcutta and kill him!" "What about now?..." "Now, the original plan should still be carried out. This time the movement will be nationwide. Let all the Indians in the cities and villages join the uprising and stand on the same front with the Indian soldiers. When I ran all over Dirk After the central and northern regions of Khan, I found that the heart of rebellion has spread everywhere. This uprising, we should go deep into every city, every small town. Let the Brahmins try their best to preach to the people. Religion will make Siva and Vichy The Christians in Nu and Nu will follow our command. Once the time is ripe, according to the signal agreed in advance, millions of Indians will revolt at the same time, and the end of the royal army will come!" "What about Du Ponte?..." Barlow Low asked, holding his brother's hand tightly. "Dang Du Ponte will not only be the crowned prince of Bilur Fort, but also the ruler of this sacred land of India!" Nana said. Nana Saib folded his arms in front of his chest, his eyes no longer just stayed in the past or the present, but looked at the future, looking a little confused, and he was silent all the time. Barlow Low never disturbed his silence.He always likes to let this ferocious person think alone, and when necessary, he will arouse the passion in this thinker's heart even more vigorously.Nana Saib would not find a more intimate accomplice, a more capable right-hand man to help him achieve his goals.People often say that he is another self. After Nana pondered for a while, she raised her head again and returned to the current situation. "Where is our accomplice?" he asked. "In the cave in Adjunta, according to the prior agreement, they will wait for us there." Barao Luo replied. "Where are the horses?" "I put them at a range from here, on the way from Elora to Polegami." "Is it Caragani who tends the horses?" "It's him, brother. They're well looked after, and they'll be off as soon as we get here." "Then let's go," Nana replied. "We must be in Adjunta before dawn." "Where shall we go when we get there?" Barlow Low asked. "Wouldn't it be contrary to your original plan to leave so soon?" "No," replied Nana Saib. "When we get there, we'll go to the Sotpura Hills. I know all the trails there well enough to escape the English police. And when we get there, we can It is on the territory of the Bills and Guends who have always been loyal to the anti-British uprising. We will stay in the Wendiya Mountains where uprisings can be raised at any time and wait for a good opportunity for an uprising!" "On the road!" replied Barlow Low. "They actually offered a reward of two thousand pounds to catch you! But it's not enough to offer a reward, someone must dare to come and chop off your head!" "They'll never get it," said Nana Saib, "brother, don't waste your time, let's go!" Along the narrow passage connected to this dark basement, Balau Low walked steadily forward.When he reached the opening where the elephant's butt was eaten, he poked his head out carefully, looked left and right in the darkness, and only went out when he saw that there was no one around.Then he walked more than 20 steps cautiously along the avenue centered on the temple, and when he was sure, he whistled to signal that there was no one on Nana Road. After a while, the two brothers left the man-made valley that was half a mile long.The corridors, domes and caves hewn on both sides are stacked in several places, which is truly spectacular.The two bypassed the Islamic mausoleum with its bungalows for the parishioners and the pilgrims who came from all over the world to pay homage to the name of Erola; On the main roads of Adjunta and Polegami. It was fifty miles (about eighty kilometers) from Elora to Adjunta; but at this time Nana was no longer the barefoot beggar fleeing from Aurangabad.Three horses, cared for by Don du Ponte's loyal vassal Calagani, were waiting for them on the road, as Balau Low had said.The horses were hidden in a thick wood a kilometer away from the village.One horse was given to Nana, the other to Barao Lo, and the remaining one to Karagani, and the three rode quickly towards the Adjung Tower.No one would be surprised by monks and beggars on horseback.Because in India, there are indeed many beggars begging on horseback. Furthermore, during this time of year the main roads are almost deserted, whereas during the pilgrimage season the situation is quite different.So Nana and the two accomplices proceeded boldly and fast.Pausing only occasionally to rest their horses, they also took advantage of the brief moments to eat some of the food that Calagani had placed in the saddle.They avoided densely populated places, bungalows, villages, and small towns of Roa, whose houses were blackened with time, like those gloomy villages in Cornuais and Pilmary. Like the houses, the desolate town is submerged in the thick wild woods that surround it. On the land of Yimapingchuan, clusters of lush European heather are scattered everywhere.But near the Adjon Tower, the terrain becomes undulating. About 500 meters away from the city, there are some grottoes comparable to Elora. On the whole, they may be more majestic and beautiful than the former, occupying a rock wall of the entire small valley. In Adjunta City, the government announcement should have been posted.Nana Saib could not travel through the city lest she risk being recognized. So, fifteen hours after leaving Elora, he and two companions entered a narrow passage beyond which lay the famous valley in which twenty-six temples were built on dizzyingly high rock walls. The starry night is very charming, but there is no moon.Some tall trees, such as banyan trees or some other Indian giant plants appear black shadows under the stars.There was not a breath of wind in the air, not a single leaf moved, and there was nothing but the murmur of a stream in a valley a few hundred feet away.But the sound of the stream became louder and louder, and when the men and horses came to the Satkund Waterfall, the sound of the water turned into a roar.The waterfall falls from a height of fifty tewaz (an old French unit of length, 1 tuise equals 1.949 meters).It was smashed to pieces by protruding quartzite and basalt.The mist is flying in the valley. If there is still moonlight on this beautiful spring night, the mist will reflect colorful light. Nana Saib, Balau Lo and Karagani came to this grotto area in the valley, where the passage between the valleys turns sharply and the magnificent Buddhist buildings carved into the rock walls make the valley appear It suddenly opened up.On the high walls of those temples, there are all kinds of decorations, rock pillars, rosettes, Arabic decorations, verandahs, and many giant animal patterns and hollowed out small stone houses for the former monks and these Inhabited by the guardians of the temple, those colossal murals, completed as if they were done yesterday and still admired by artists today, depict court ceremonies, religious ceremonies, and wars fought with different weapons in different ages, faithfully recreating India What this wonderful area looked like in the turn of the century. Nana Saib knew the mysterious catacombs like the back of his hand.During those difficult uprising years, he and his accomplices were closely pursued by the British army, and they fled to this area to hide many times.The subterranean corridors leading to the tomb, the narrowest passages in the quartzite walls, the winding and intertwining paths, the labyrinth of forks that would impatient the most patient man, but he was familiar with them all.Even in this dark night where he can't see his fingers and the torches can't light him, he will not get lost. Taking advantage of the darkness, Nana went straight to the smallest cave very confidently.The entrance of the cave is covered with small shrubs, and there are some big stones piled up in disorder, which may have fallen there in a previous rock avalanche. Only a little passageway is exposed among the shrubs on the ground and the plants growing on the rocks. All he had to do was tap the rock wall with his fingernails to show that he had reached the mouth of the cave. Soon two or three Indians poked their heads out among the branches, then ten, twenty, and after a while more people came out from among the rocks like snakes, forming an armed team of more than forty people. . "Let's go!" said Nana Saib. Without asking for an explanation, and without knowing where he was leading them, the Big Head's loyal war companions set off with him, ready to die at his bidding.They walk no slower than those on horseback. The small party followed the passage between the canyons to the north and rounded the round hill.An hour later they were on the Candeisi Avenue leading to Sotpura Hill. By daylight the detachment had crossed the Nagpur fork of the Bombay-Allahabad railway and its main road to the northeast. At this moment, the train in Calcutta was running at full speed, and it kept spitting white steam towards the beautiful banyan trees on the roadside. Nana reined in the horse, pointed at the speeding train and shouted loudly: "Go, go and tell the Governor of India that Nana Saib is alive and that he will drown this damned railway with the blood of the invaders!"

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