The Confusion

“Until we washed ashore near Surat, I fancied I had my thumb on the ‘stan’ phenomenon,” Jack said. “Turks live in Turkestan. Balochs live in Balochistan. Tajiks live in Tajikistan. Of course none of ’em ever stay put in their respective ’stans, which causes the world no end of trouble, but in principle it is all admirably clear. But now here we are in Hindoostan. And I gather that it soon comes to an end, if we go that way.” Jack waved his right arm, which, since they were going south, meant that he was gesturing towards the west. “But-” (now sweeping his left arm through a full eight points of the compass, from due south to due east) “-in those directions it goes on practically forever. And every person speaks a different language, has skin a different color, and worships a different graven image; it is as varie-gated as this” (indicating a pied hillside of weavers). “Leading to the question, what is the basis for ’stanhood or ’stanitude? To lump so many into one ’stan implies you have something in common.”

Surendranath leaned forward in his palanquin and looked as if he were just about to answer, then settled back into his cushions with a faint smile under the twin spirals of his waxed moustachio. “It is a mystery of the Orient,” he said gravely.

“For Christ’s sake, you people need to get organized,” Jack said. “You don’t even have a common government-it’s Moguls up here, and from what you are telling me, if we went south we would soon enough run afoul of those Marathas, and farther south yet, it’s those fiends in human form, who’ve got Moseh and Dappa and the others-”

“Your memories of that day have run together like cheaply dyed textiles in the monsoon rain,” Surendranath said.

“Excuse me, I was trying not to drown at the time.”

“So was I.”

“If they weren’t fiends in human form, why did you jump overboard?” Padraig asked.

“Because I wanted to get to Surat, and those pirates, whoever or whatever they were, they would have taken us the opposite direction,” said Surendranath.

“Why do you suppose we jumped out, then?”

“You feared that they were Balochi pirates,” Surendranath said.

Padraig: “Those are the ones who cut their captives’ Achilles tendons to prevent them escaping?”

Surendranath: “Yes.”

Jack: “But wait! If they are Balochis, it follows that they are from Balochistan! If only they would stay put, that is.”

Surendranath: “Of course.”

Jack: “But Balochistan is that hellish bit that went by to port-the country that vomited hot dust on us for three weeks.”

Surendranath: “The description is cruel but fair.”

Jack: “That would be a Mahometan country if ever there was one.”

Surendranath: “Balochis are Muslims.”

Padraig: “It’s all coming back to me. We thought they were Balochi pirates at first because they came after us in a Balochi-looking ship. Which, if true, would have been good for all of us save Dappa and you, Surendranath, because we were all Christians or Jews, hence People of the Book. Our Achilles tendons were safe.”

Surendranath: “I must correct you: it wasn’t all right for van Hoek.”

Jack: “True, but only because he’d made that asinine vow, when we were in Cairo, that he’d cut his hand off if he were ever taken by pirates again. Consequently he, you, and Dappa were making ready to jump ship.”

Padraig: “My recollection is that van Hoek meant to stay and fight.”

Jack: “The Irishman speaks the truth. The cap’n took us between two islands, in the Gulf of Cambaye over yonder-whereupon we were beset by the second pirate ship, which was obviously acting in concert with the first.”

Padraig: “But this one was much closer and was manned by-how do you say-”

Surendranath: “Sangano pirates. Hindoos who steal, but do not kidnap, enslave, maim, or torture, except insofar as they have to in order to steal.”

Jack: “And who had apparently taken that first ship from some luckless Balochi pirates, which is why we mistook them for Balochis at first.”

Surendranath: “To this point, you are speaking the truth, as I recollect it.”

Padraig: “No wonder-this is the point when you jumped out!”

Surendranath: “It made sense for me to jump out, because it was obvious that we were going to lose all of the gold to the Sangano pirates. But van Hoek was preparing to fight to the death.”

Jack: “I must not have heard the splash, Surendranath, as my mind was occupied with other concerns. Van Hoek, as you say, was steering a course for open water in the middle of the Gulf, probably with the intention of fighting it out to the end. But we hadn’t gone more than a mile when we stumbled directly into the path of a raiding-flotilla, whereupon all of the boats-ours, and our pursuers’-were fair game for this new group.”

Padraig: “Darkies, but not Africans.”

Jack: “Hindoos, but not Hindoostanis, precisely.”

Padraig: “Only pirate-ships I’ve ever heard of commanded by women.”

Jack: “There are rumored to be some in the Caribbean-but-none the less-it was a queer group indeed.”

Surendranath: “You are describing Malabar pirates, then.”

Jack: “As I said-fiends in human form!”