The Moghul

lightly with his hand. Then the men holding the long poles tipped them toward the taper, and the two ends of papered bamboo were quickly ignited.
    The bamboo sticks started to whirl like pinwheels, popping and throwing sparks from the gunpowder packed inside. The keepers turned and thrust the poles under the face of the brown elephant, sending him rearing backward in fright.
    Although the black elephant now lay crushed against the wall, the brown was too distracted by the sudden noise to press his advantage. Instead he wheeled away from the exploding bamboo and began to charge wildly toward the edge of the crowd. Retreating bodies pummeled about Hawksworth, and there were frightened calls of " lor langar ." As the elephant neared the crowd, its second rider, with a look of infinite regret, threw down the log chained to its forefoot. The chain whipped against its leg, and in moments it was tangled and stumbling.
    By then the smaller black elephant had recovered its feet and came galloping in chase. In moments he was there, slamming his larger adversary with his tusks. The brown elephant stumbled awkwardly, tangled in the chain, and then collapsed into the dust. With a victory yell the mahout of the black elephant pulled a cord releasing a canvas cloth over its eyes. The heaving animal immediately began to gentle, and its jubilant keepers ran forward to lead it away.
    "Your elephant lost, Sahib. My regrettings. May I have the twenty rupees?"
    "But it was fixed!" Hawksworth held tightly to his purse.
    "The brown was clearly winning before he was frightened by the damned fireworks."
    "Did I neglect to tell the Sahib that the black elephant is a khasa , from His Majesty's private stable? His Majesty does not like to see his elephants lose."
    "You conniving bastard."
    "His Majesty makes the rules. Sahib. It is permitted to use the charkhi fireworks once during a contest, if His Majesty judges that the elephants need to be disciplined. May Allah grant you better luck next week." The man stood waiting, hand outstretched.
    "You're a damned thief."
    "That is a harsh judgment. Sahib. I am merely a poor man who must live. If you wait, you will see what happens to criminals here."
    With a sigh of resignation Hawksworth began to count out the twenty silver rupees, trying to look as sporting as he could muster. He found himself in grudging admiration of the swindler's style. Then he suddenly realized what the man had said.
    The rumors must have been right.
    "You mean there'll be an execution?"
    "This is the day. His Majesty always has executions on Tuesday, after the elephant fights."
    Hawksworth looked up to see another bull elephant being ridden into the plaza. He had sharpened tusks, each decorated with a single heavy brass ring, and was guided by a single rider, a fierce-looking, unshaven mahout. The elephant was festooned with bells, but there were no chains about any of its legs.
    At the other end of the square a balding man, with a short black beard and a ragged green cloak, was being dragged forward by Imperial guards. Hawksworth noticed that his arms had been bound behind him, by a heavy cord circled just above the elbows. His eyes brimmed with fear.
    The guards shoved him struggling toward the middle of the plaza. When they reached the central clearing, the officer of the guard knocked him to his knees with the butt end of a lance. The stunned prisoner turned to watch in terror as the elephant lumbered toward him, flapping its ears in anticipation.
    "He was sentenced yesterday, Sahib."
    "What did he do? Steal some nobleman's sheep? In England that's a hanging offense."
    "Oh no, Sahib, Islamic law does not give the death penalty for theft, unless a thief is notorious. And even then he must be caught in the act. If it is proved you have stolen something worth more than a certain amount, then the sentence is to have your right hand cut off. But for that to happen there must either be two witnesses or the thief must himself confess. Islamic law is not cruel; it is just."
    "What's this man accused of then?"
    "He was tried and found guilty under Islamic law of qatlul-'amd , a willful murder. His name is Kaliyan, and he is a Hindu and the son of Bijai Ganga Ram. He is accused of having kept a common Muslim woman as his concubine, and when the woman's father discovered this and went to reclaim her to restore his family's honor, this man murdered him and buried him behind his house. He confessed the act yesterday morning before